Enslave

by Felicity Heaton

  Cristo. If he were feeling honest then he would admit right now that he already felt something for her. He cared about her welfare, felt extremely protective of her around the other males, and had wanted to tear Payne apart for touching her.

  Maybe it was already too late to save himself.

  Still, she had it worse. If Payne couldn’t undo the spell, she was stuck chained to the theatre for the rest of her life, and the pain that had shone in her eyes told him that it was already killing her. She had surrendered her name to Andreu to gain her freedom when they had been together in the bedroom. Now she had lost that freedom because of him, because of the attraction she felt towards him and her desire to see him.

  He had singlehandedly wrecked her life.

  Well, not quite singlehandedly.

  What had Antoine been thinking when he had arranged for the collar and the spell woven into it? Antoine had wanted her gone, hadn’t he? Had he decided that keeping her trapped in the theatre was a better solution? He could easily find a spell or something to lock her up during the performances, ensuring that she wouldn’t drive their audience away with her presence. Andreu shook his head and tried to give Antoine the benefit of the doubt. He hadn’t known that her captivity would be permanent. He might have thought that the collar would keep her here so Andreu could speak with her and convince her to leave and never return. The whole mess made Andreu’s head ache and his heart began to throb too, dull in his chest. He needed to find Varya and apologise.

  “I will find her. Just find a way to undo this.” Andreu rubbed the spot in the centre of his chest where he ached the worst.

  Payne led Antoine from the theatre, discussing the fae with him at the same time. Javier patted Andreu on the back, offered him a reassuring smile, and then followed them, leaving him alone with a grim-faced Snow.

  Snow turned away and trailed after his brother and the others.

  He paused at the double doors and said something that set Andreu’s heart pounding.

  “Do it quickly. The female is weakening.”

  The doors shut behind him.

  Andreu closed his eyes, tipped his head back and inhaled slowly through his nose. The scent of vampires came back to him, strong on his senses. He focused and picked through the smells, searching for her softer scent.

  Honey and vanilla.

  So sweet and tempting.

  Andreu slipped down from the stage and followed the smell along the aisle between the rows of red velvet seats. He pushed the double doors at the back of the theatre open and frowned. The sun was up. The shutters across the glass front of the building shut the light out but he could feel the early morning warmth on them and could smell the sunshine. It reeked of death.

  His blue eyes scoured the foyer, touching on the pale marble floor and the elegant staircases that led up to the private boxes. She had to be here somewhere. Was she hiding from him? He couldn’t really blame her if she was. She probably wanted nothing to do with him now. Tough luck. Snow was right. Varya had been growing weaker. Payne had mentioned that succubi needed energy in order to teleport and Andreu feared that she might have just used the last of her power to escape him.

  Andreu stalked forwards, searching for her. Her scent led him to the doors. He pressed his hand against the black shutters and focused on the other side.

  His eyes widened, he grabbed the handle on the shutters and dragged them aside. Sunlight washed over his bare chest and he ducked back into the shadows, clenched his teeth and hissed in pain. Varya was on the other side. He poked his head around, heart slamming against his breastbone.

  “Varya,” he called through the glass doors but she didn’t respond. She lay on her side, her back to him, and her heartbeat was weak. “No.”

  Andreu kept his head bent and made fast work of the doors, undoing the latches at the top and bottom. He tore the door open, raced to Varya as his bare skin began to blister and burn, and grabbed her. She was too heavy to lift, the sun already sapping his strength, so he caught her under her arms and growled as he struggled to drag her into the shade of the foyer. Pain tore through him with each step but he gritted his teeth and kept moving, pulling her inch by inch into the safety of the theatre.

  He collapsed in the middle of the foyer with Varya on his legs, breathing hard and fighting to focus through the sharp barbs that ripped into him, making him feel as though his skin was being torn to shreds. Damned sunlight. The elegant plaster ceiling of the foyer wobbled in his vision, darkening at the edges. His mind swam, UV pouring through his veins like battery acid, chewing him up from the inside. His lips tugged into a wry pained smile. Even at five hundred years, he wasn’t old enough to withstand a few seconds of sunlight.

  “Andreu!” Her high panicked cry pierced his skull and he flinched and tried to open his eyes. When had he closed them? They felt as though someone had tossed sand into them, dry and coarse, the lids scraping his eyeballs with each attempt to open them. “Gods, what happened to you?”

  She still sounded weak.

  He managed to get his eyes open and flinched away from the weak sunlight streaming in through the glass doors.

  Varya looked over at the doors and then back at him. The panic that had been in her voice touched her eyes.

  “What were you doing out there?” he whispered, throat dry and tacky. Swallowing didn’t help. Blood. He needed blood. Devil, he could almost feel the cool slide of it down his throat, quenching his thirst and restoring his strength. He shifted his gaze to her.

  She lay beside him on the cold marble, as pale as the stone beneath her, lips ashen and eyes dull but red. She had been crying again. He wanted to reach over to her and touch her face but he couldn’t muster the strength to move when every inch of him was screaming in agony.

  “It was the furthest I could go.” There was resignation in her tone but pain in her eyes. She had tried to escape. His gaze tracked down to the fae markings that ringed her throat. They were deep blue and black. What did that mean?

  Payne’s markings changed colour too when he had lost his temper. Did his emotions affect them? Were the ones on Varya’s throat doing the same? The colours looked sad to him.

  “I’m sorry,” Andreu whispered and swallowed again, grimacing when his blood burned. It would calm soon but he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His heart continued to thunder against his chest, body accelerating to heal the damage he had taken with only a few seconds in weak morning light. He supposed he was lucky she hadn’t decided to teleport herself and pass out in a dangerous open place at noon. Not only would it have been impossible for him to go out after her, but humans would have tried to help her. They might have hurt her by trying to force her to leave the theatre boundaries.

  He closed his eyes.

  “I really am sorry, Varya,” he said on a sigh.

  Varya moved on his senses and then he could feel her hand close to his face, her gaze boring into him. The burns on his cheeks stung and then the pain began to fade. Varya’s breathing deepened, hoarse in his ears.

  Andreu flicked his eyes open when he realised she was healing him and pushed her hand away. “No, you’re hurting yourself. I’ll heal.”

  She smiled but there was only sorrow in it. “It does not matter… I’ll be dead soon.”

  Andreu pushed himself up onto his elbows, unable to keep still on hearing her say such a thing. He would never allow that to happen. She had to live.

  “No.”

  Her smile softened and she closed her eyes and laid her head on the marble floor, her black hair snaking across it to form a dark crown of spikes that would have suited her had it been spread across his pillow and had she not looked so weak and pale. “You think you can change things with that small word. You cannot change this.”

  “Why? You took energy from me the other day. I felt it… so why is this happening to you?”

  Her eyes opened and sought his. “Because of the circle… and you… and this whole wretched place.”

  “I don�
��t understand. Please… I know you are tired but you have to tell me.” Andreu shut down his own pain with great effort, slowly sat up and gently pulled her into his arms, cradling her away from the cold floor. She trembled in his embrace. “Stay with me, Varya. I did not mean what I said. I will look after you.”

  She huffed and her smile faded. Her gaze met his and he stared down into her striking brown-blue eyes, his chest aching at the sight of them so dull.

  “I have not fed properly… I meant to, but I wanted you to see me instead… I was too intrigued. So I visited you that day in your room… and you gave me strength… but you took it too. I tried to stay away… I tried to feed but they tasted foul. I wanted your taste again… your kiss… so I returned… and then the circle caught me… and trying to escape used the last of my strength,” she whispered and closed her eyes, turning her face away from him. “It is better this way. I would rather die than live as a slave.”

  “I promise you, I will find a way to fix that… and I will not let you die.” Andreu bent his head to kiss her but her hand covered his mouth and she weakly pushed against him. He tore her hand away from his face. Dios, she wasn’t even strong enough to push him away. How close to death was she? “Let me help you, Varya. Let me give you my strength.”

  He pulled her to face him and pressed his lips to hers. She responded, her mouth faintly moving against his, but he didn’t feel the usual rush that came with her kiss. He tried for a few seconds longer and then drew back. Was it too late?

  Her eyes gradually opened. “I cannot… you take…”

  Andreu frowned. “Then tell me how to give.”

  “I do not know.” Her head lolled back and she curled up, a pained sound leaving her lips. Her eyes rolled closed, lids fluttering, and her hands twitched in her lap.

  It wasn’t going to end like this. She had come here because of Payne but Andreu was the reason she had allowed herself to grow weak. She had wanted to kiss him. No, it was more than a kiss. The way she looked at him at times, and the connection that crackled into life between them whenever their eyes met. It was far more than a kiss that had her risking her life in order to see him, and it was more than just a sense of responsibility for what had happened to her that had him desperate to find a way to bring her back from the brink of death.

  To him.

  He wanted her to come back to him.

  He wanted her.

  Damn the rules.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 8

  Andreu covered her mouth with his, kissing her softly, focusing on giving his strength to her and making her better because he didn’t want her to die. She had to live.

  Live, damn it.

  His eyes shot wide open when a spark leapt between their lips and raced deep into his blood, heating it. Her mouth moved against his, stronger now, and he tasted that addictive hint of vanilla and honey. He ignored his own pain and pulled her closer to him. Her hands grasped his shoulders, her lips growing bolder and taking control of the kiss.

  Andreu kept his focus on giving everything to her, all of the passion she stirred in him and his need for her. She moaned into his mouth, the sweetest sound he had ever heard, and pushed her fingers through his hair. He slipped then, losing himself in the heat of their kiss and his desire for her. He kissed along her jaw and she tilted her head back, baring her throat to him. He trailed his lips over her vein, feeling the fluttering of her pulse against them, and kissed her there. Dios, he wanted to drown in this woman.

  He was so hungry for her.

  His fangs emerged.

  The deep pulse of arousal in his veins turned to lust, but not for her body. He needed her blood.

  “Stop, please, Andreu,” she whispered and she didn’t sound as though she really wanted him to refrain from kissing her throat. The way she tugged at his hair and arched her body against his said she wanted quite the opposite from him. “Stop!”

  Andreu forced his mouth to leave her throat and looked down at her.

  Varya lay in his arms, breasts heaving against her black long-sleeved top, her eyes shining bright shades of brown and blue, the flecks of gold in them sparkling.

  “I’m fine now, you can let me go… let me go now,” she said and he still wasn’t convinced.

  She had regained some strength but she was still weak, and the look in her eyes, the way they held his, her pupils wide and dark, told him that she wanted more. Andreu brushed his fingers across her cheek and then swept his thumb under her eyes to clear away the mascara tracks from her tears. Even as she was now, eyes red from crying and black smudges beneath them, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  “I want to kiss you again.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He pressed his lips to hers and she raised herself into the kiss, her mouth soft and compliant. Andreu slanted his head and delved his tongue between her teeth, desperate to gain another taste of her. She moaned, the sound like Heaven to his ears, and writhed in his arms. The heat that always burned between them was fiercer than ever, an inferno in his veins that scorched him right to the bone and controlled him. He groaned and it ended on a growl as she pushed him away, breaking the kiss.

  She escaped his arms and stood on shaky legs.

  Andreu breathed hard and remained kneeling on the floor, his body struggling against the one-two punch of the effects of an unhealthy dose of UV poisoning and the raging arousal that had his blood pumping, spreading the strange concoction of pain and pleasure through his veins.

  “I need to feed,” she whispered and her gaze darted around the foyer.

  Something told him that he wasn’t on the menu.

  Andreu growled and pushed himself onto his feet, straightening with effort. It was a miracle he remained standing. The combination of healing his body and giving sexual energy to her had him shaking all over. He swayed but planted his feet shoulder-width apart to keep himself upright. Now wasn’t the time to look weak.

  “You want sex?” His cock throbbed, telling him that he might be healing but he wasn’t averse to the idea of finally sinking himself into this woman.

  Varya nodded. Andreu swallowed. Cristo. He shouldn’t be doing this but he wanted her and that need overruled any concerns about his health. He was already healing again, the pain lessening with each second that passed. It wouldn’t be long before he had healed fully and he was sure it would happen even faster if she kissed him and he somehow took just a little of her energy. Payne had said she would kill a weak host. Was he weak because of his injuries or did her power judge strength in a way other than physical? It didn’t matter. He needed Varya and she needed him.

  He took a step towards her.

  She countered him with a step backwards. “Not you.”

  Andreu frowned, mildly offended and then enraged. There was no way he was going to let her go off and find someone else to have sex with.

  “Why not?” he said.

  “You’re toxic… dangerous… I need someone else.”

  “Don’t sugar-coat it, Chica. Say it how you see it.” Andreu glared at her and then muttered a curse under his breath. “It isn’t going to happen. The staff are out of the building as are the performers. It’s just you and me.”

  “You’re a liar. There are other unmated males here still. The white-haired one.”

  “Snow?” Andreu growled and was on her in a flash, hands grasping her upper arms so tightly that his knuckles blazed white, burning as fiercely as the rage pouring through his veins. “That is not going to happen.”

  There was no way on this Earth that he would ever allow another male to touch this woman, especially one as dangerous as Snow. God only knew what sort of kinks that man had and Varya wasn’t strong enough to handle a two thousand year old vampire.

  Andreu waited for her to mention another name so he could shoot down that one too. There was another single male in the theatre. Payne. She didn’t mention him though, boosting Andreu’s belief that she had told the truth and had no interest in sleeping wi
th the part-incubus vampire. He still felt the need to put that one to the test and force her to give up on finding another male at the same time.

  “What about Payne?” he said and her eyes widened. She instantly shook her head.

  “Not the bastard. He’ll kill me.” She tried to shrink away but Andreu held her firm.

  “Then you’re stuck with me. It’s just sex, right?”

  Her eyes didn’t get any smaller. Something in them said that it would be more than just sex if he was her partner, and he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t feel the same way. Things had become too personal, too intimate, between them for this to be about feeding her and nothing else.

  “I can be your host.” He released her arms and she backed away.

  “No. I cannot.” She cast a fearful glance at him and then at the doors. Was she actually thinking of fleeing rather than taking his offer?

  “Why not?” He couldn’t contain that question. She kept refusing him and now he wanted to know why. She kissed him but she wouldn’t take things further? What was it about him that had her running scared? Something told him it wasn’t because she was concerned about his injuries or his health. She could probably heal him during the act. “Is this because I do that thing you mentioned… I take your energy?”

  She began to nod and then shook her head, and then her expression turned pained and confused. He locked gazes with her, intent on discovering just what she was hiding from him—the truth behind why she kept coming back for another taste of him and why he fascinated her.

  Varya turned her back on him and wrapped her arms around herself. “Your aura is black as night. Too dangerous… forbidden.”

  Andreu raised a single dark eyebrow. He was forbidden? While that sounded quite sexy, having a black aura didn’t sound like a good thing.

  “So I radiate darkness? What does that even mean?”