Enslave

by Felicity Heaton

  If he had, would Varya leave him?

  The past week with her had been interesting to say the very least. She had a voracious appetite and he had happily indulged it, spending more time tangled in her arms than he had on his work, or even sleeping. After the first few days, the pace between them had changed and Varya’s hunger had lessened. She hadn’t taken as much energy from him during their lovemaking sessions, and had instead given him the impression that she had been sleeping with him out of desire rather than a need to feed. He had enjoyed feeding her, had loved her roughness and the way she drove him to be wicked with her, but it was the times when they had come close to making love rather than having sex that stayed with him. There were times when he had sworn he could see right down to her soul. Poetic rubbish but he swore it had happened.

  There were other times when he hadn’t needed to look into her eyes to know the feelings she had locked deep in her heart too.

  She had given him blood on several occasions, each one an intoxicating experience that had left them connected for hours afterwards. In those hours, he had felt her feelings in his own blood, relayed to him through hers. He had bitten women in the past and felt a connection to them while he had been feeding, but it had never lasted more than an hour after he stopped. The longest the link between him and Varya had lasted was close to six hours, and he had only taken barely a few sips of blood from a cut on her chest.

  The link was different in other ways too. Normally a connection just opened his mind to the one he had taken blood from, allowing them to feel each other’s emotions and experience shared pleasure. The connection that formed between him and Varya whenever he took her blood ran deeper than that. He could feel things in her but it wasn’t just emotions. It was her hopes and her fears, her memories in a way. Whenever his mind opened to hers and they joined, he learned something new about her, and the more he knew, the more he wanted to connect with her and the deeper he wanted to delve.

  Andreu felt certain that if she were aware that she was sharing her innermost feelings, her essence and what made her Varya, she would stop him from tasting her blood. She was a private person, one who had secrets that even he couldn’t unlock, and she would see his infiltrating her mind as intrusive.

  He liked the link though. It had given him insight into her feelings and thoughts that could prove invaluable in the days ahead. If Antoine had found a way to undo the spell, she would leave.

  Andreu didn’t want that to happen. He wanted her to stay.

  He hadn’t been looking for a romantic entanglement, had wanted to keep his time at Vampirerotique as purely business, but meeting Varya had changed all of that. It had changed him. He was a fool like his brother. Varya had unlocked the barriers, torn down his defences, and stolen his heart. She had given him a taste of her and now he was addicted, and just a taste was no longer enough.

  He needed her.

  A selfish part of him wanted to keep her chained to the theatre so she could never leave him. He had been fighting that part of himself for the past few days and had come close to mastering it a few times.

  Andreu brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. It would be wrong of him to force her to stay when she valued freedom as highly as he did. He had to find a way to release her and he wasn’t going to fool himself into believing that when that happened she would stay with him. Vampirerotique was no place for her. She had made it clear several times over the past week with him that her kind never associated with vampires because his kind were dangerous, able to sense them even when they used a spell to hide themselves, and that she didn’t like the theatre. She was on edge here, uncomfortable, and Antoine had only made things worse by shackling her to the building.

  No. When he had fulfilled his promise to free her, she would leave him. He had no doubt about that.

  Andreu pressed one knee and one hand into the bed, leaned over Varya, and placed a light lingering kiss on her pale cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, putting her scent to memory in case this was his last moment alone with her. A dull throb started in his chest and he tore himself away, dressed in his black trousers and a dark blue shirt, and left the room barefoot.

  He closed the door behind him, easing it shut so it didn’t rouse her, and padded along the black and gold corridor towards the stairs.

  Payne’s text message had said that they were waiting for him in the theatre.

  He wasn’t sure what to expect when he reached them and that was why he was leaving Varya sleeping in his temporary room. If it was bad news, it would break her heart, and he didn’t want to see her hurting again. If the fae that Antoine had used to create the collar had placed no loophole in the spell, then Andreu would seek other fae and see if they knew a way to break the chains that bound Varya to the theatre.

  He wouldn’t give up.

  Andreu swiftly took the stairs down to the first floor and then the expansive double-height black-walled room on the ground floor. He turned to his right and pushed open the double doors that led into the theatre.

  His blue gaze immediately sought Antoine and found the dark-haired aristocrat male sitting in the front row of the stalls. The grim look in his eyes as they met Andreu’s told him everything he needed to know.

  “There’s no way to reverse it, is there?” he said and Antoine shook his head. “Cristo… why would a fae do such a thing?”

  “It turns out he’s not exactly a very nice fae. It seems he has a grudge against the succubi.” Payne sat on the edge of the stage, hands firmly planted on either side of his hips, his expression darker than Antoine’s. The rolled up sleeves of his black pinstriped shirt revealed his fae markings and they shone in hues of deepest red and smoky grey. He was angry, and Andreu couldn’t blame him.

  Andreu raked his fingers through his thick brown hair. Dios. Antoine had to go and find the one succubus-hating fae in the world.

  “I can’t leave it like this.” Andreu paced barefoot across the red strip of open carpet between the front row of seats and the stage. “There has to be a way to undo it.”

  “I understand you don’t want to babysit her for the rest of your life, and you won’t have to. She can remain here at the theatre, free to roam when the performances aren’t taking place and in a room when they are.” Antoine looked far too relaxed and casual as he laid out the plans for Varya’s containment and Andreu wanted to punch him for it.

  “No, you don’t understand.” Andreu turned on the powerful aristocrat male, snarling the words at him. “I don’t give a damn about babysitting her… what I do give a damn about is her welfare. It isn’t right, Antoine, and you of all people shouldn’t be letting this end here, like this. She deserves her freedom.”

  “She will be able to go around the theatre as she pleases other than during the performances. What else am I supposed to do for her?” Antoine stood, coming toe-to-toe with Andreu and staring straight into his eyes. The red ringing Antoine’s pale irises wasn’t the only reason Andreu felt intimidated. Whenever Antoine lost his temper, bad things happened. He had heard the stories and his senses stretched out, scanning the area.

  Not that he would have a chance of seeing Snow coming. If the crazed aristocrat vampire felt his brother’s anger and felt he was threatened, he would be down in the theatre and ripping Andreu’s heart out before he was even aware of him.

  “That isn’t freedom. This is a prison for her. She can’t pass the boundaries of the theatre. The furthest she can reach is the front steps. What sort of life will she have here, Antoine?” Andreu sucked in a deep breath and stalked away from him, needing some space so he didn’t make the deadly mistake of giving in to his desire to strike the man down for what he had done to Varya. He turned near the doors and growled under his breath. Payne gave him a look that easily conveyed that he would have back up if he was in the mood for fighting Antoine and making him pay.

  “There has to be a way,” Andreu whispered and dug his fingers through his hair, pressing his palms to the sides o
f his head. He looked to Payne. “There must be something we can do.”

  A hint of discomfort surfaced in Payne’s deep grey eyes in the brief second before he looked away.

  “There is, isn’t there?” Andreu stormed towards him, grabbed him by the open collar of his black shirt and yanked him around to face him. “There is a way.”

  “It would not undo the spell… you have to understand that.” Payne’s expression remained serious and Andreu had the terrible feeling that he understood all too well what the blond elite vampire was saying. Payne placed one hand down on Andreu’s shoulder and it felt heavy. “There is a way to transfer the spell.”

  Transfer. As in, someone could take Varya’s place and be chained to the theatre, trapped within its boundaries.

  “Would this person be under the command of the building or the owner?” Andreu’s mind reeled as he tried to take it all in.

  “I am not sure. It is possible. The one under the spell is owned by the building, and the building itself is owned by a person. I have never seen it happen, but it is possible that the chain of command could influence things.”

  “I will do it,” Antoine said and Andreu pivoted on his heel to face him. The aristocrat vampire’s pale blue eyes were as serious as Payne’s grey ones. “I accept responsibility for what happened and will take her place.”

  Andreu shook his head. “You can’t… what if Snow needs you and you can’t leave the theatre?”

  Antoine glanced up the height of the theatre to the floor above them and frowned. He closed his eyes and lowered his head again, his shoulders slumping with it.

  “I must. This is my fault. I will do all I can to keep Snow here where I can reach him.”

  But if Snow lost control outside of the theatre, it would be carnage. Antoine wouldn’t be able to stop him. As much as Andreu wanted the man to pay for what he had done to Varya, he couldn’t allow him to take the spell on himself. It was too dangerous. If Snow went on a rampage, he would expose their entire race to the humans. It would be war.

  The thought of chaining himself to the theatre in her place though turned Andreu’s stomach and chilled his blood. He valued his freedom as highly as she valued hers, and had so many plans that he wanted to pursue. His dream of opening his own theatre in Barcelona faded before his eyes.

  He had to do this. She had come back to the theatre because of him and he had been part of the plan to capture her. He was as responsible for her plight as Antoine was and he could do something about it.

  “I will do it,” Andreu said, sick to his stomach as he heard himself speak those words. The full weight of their meaning hit him hard but he stood firm, unwilling to take back his decision. He flicked a glance to Payne. “Don’t think that this means you’re off the hook though. I’ll need you to tap every fae contact you have to find a way to break the spell. I’m not spending eternity tied down here.”

  Payne smiled. “It would be my pleasure. My resources are limited, but I can do some digging for you, and hopefully something will turn up.”

  “You do not have to do this, Andreu,” Antoine said and Andreu shrugged.

  “I owe it to her and I’m the most sensible option. We need Payne to get into the fae underworld and find a way to undo the spell, and we need you to keep your brother under control. Javier has a life with Lilah, and Snow has enough on his plate without our adding to it.” Andreu smiled even though he didn’t feel like it. The prospect of being stuck in the theatre for a potential eternity wreaked havoc with his feelings, tearing him between doing the right thing and keeping Varya tied to the theatre so she couldn’t leave him.

  “Antoine was the one who placed the spell on her, so he will need to be the one to move the spell to you.” Payne hopped down from the stage. “We will need to set up the ash circle again and the collar.”

  “I will get the collar and the ash.” Antoine went to leave but halted next to Andreu. He stared into his eyes for long seconds and then frowned. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  No, he wasn’t, but there was no way on this Earth that he would admit that. He nodded. Antoine squeezed his shoulder and left. Payne stared at him in silence.

  “There might not be a way to undo this spell.” Those words fell heavily in the quiet theatre, echoing off the boxes and sinking into Andreu’s stomach, pulling it down to his feet.

  “I know.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it on a sigh. “But I promised her that I would free her, and so I will.”

  Payne continued to stare at him and Andreu had the impression that he thought he was a fool. Andreu thought that too. He was setting Varya free and would likely never see her again unless he could somehow convince her to remain with him.

  He frowned at the red carpet. “Payne… a fae’s name… you said it was secret and fae rarely gave it to anyone. Does it give me power over her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could I make her come back to me?” He looked up into Payne’s eyes and felt as though the elite male was looking straight through him, stripping away the layers of his calm facade to reveal the truth beneath.

  “You care for her.” Payne leaned back against the stage and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re setting her free because you feel something for her. She’s a succubus. It is not in their nature to be monogamous.”

  “She has spent the past week with me. The performers were back in the building and she didn’t go after them to mix up her meals.”

  Payne scrubbed his hand over his blond spiky hair. “Then she might be different… or maybe it’s you. She hasn’t harmed you during sex?”

  “No, and we haven’t exactly been gentle at times.” Andreu cleared his throat and tried to stifle the blush that came over him. “It’s been great. She’s fed only from me, and I’ve done my best not to take energy from her… but she keeps telling me that I’m forbidden and something about my aura being shadowed.”

  Payne’s eyes widened. “Is she still in Callum’s room?”

  Andreu nodded.

  Payne disappeared.

  That was a first. It seemed that succubi weren’t the only ones who could teleport. Part-incubus vampires could too.

  “Where is Payne?” Antoine said and the doors swung shut behind him.

  Andreu wondered the same thing. Had he gone to speak with Varya? Andreu didn’t want her to wake and find out what he was doing. He wasn’t sure whether she would try to stop him, but he wasn’t about to sit around and wait to find out.

  He turned to face Antoine and his gaze dropped to the silver collar in his right hand, and the bag in his left.

  “The ash?” he said with a nod towards it.

  “The last of it.” Antoine held it out to him.

  Andreu took it and hopped up onto the stage. He opened the end of the small grey sack and carefully poured the ash out into a circle. His heart thumped hard against his chest, palms damp and fingers trembling. It had hurt Varya when she had stepped into the circle and Antoine had placed the collar on her. He wasn’t looking forward to that, or any of it.

  He took several deep breaths, removed his navy shirt and tossed it onto the red velvet chaise longue.

  “You do not have to do this,” Antoine said from behind him.

  Andreu shook his head. “I do. I’m doing this and no one can stop me.”

  He drew a final breath, closed his eyes, whispered a prayer that Payne would one day find a way to reverse what he was about to do, and stepped into the circle.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 12

  Varya’s throat burned. She rubbed it and rolled over, trying to claw back the pleasant dream she had been having about Andreu. The pain dulled but came back again a second later, so fierce that it felt as though someone had stabbed her with thousands of white-hot needles. Nausea rolled through her and she scratched at her throat, groaning under her breath.

  “Wake,” a deep growling voice said and her eyes snapped open.

  The blue-aura-carrying bastard stood at the side of
the bed, towering over her, his expression grim and cold.

  Varya scrambled to her knees, holding the red sheets around her to cover her nudity, and wildly searched the room for Andreu.

  She was alone.

  “What do you want?” she hissed the words at the incubus.

  He frowned at her. “Andreu says you speak of him wearing shadows.”

  “He does. Where is he?”

  “That does not matter right now. What matters is how you answer my next question.”

  Arrogant bastard. Varya scanned the room again, a spark of panic making her hands tingle and her heart tremble. What had he done with Andreu? She rubbed her neck. And why was her throat burning?

  “What is Andreu to you?”

  Varya’s brown-blue eyes widened. What was Andreu to her? How many times had she asked herself that question this past week with him and failed to find the answer? Now the incubus bastard was asking it too and she still wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Do not say a host. He is more than a host to you.” The man glared down at her, the blue and gold flakes in his eyes beginning to brighten, and folded his thick arms across his chest. The fae markings on his forearms shifted in hues of crimson and black. What had him angry? “He says that you have fed exclusively from him this past week, and that he can take energy from you as well as give it, and that you have claimed he is forbidden and wears shadows.”

  “He is and he does. I will be in trouble with my clan for being here with him.” Varya wrapped the covers around her and kept a wary eye on the man, not trusting him. Incubi were notoriously volatile and her clan had lost many to their wild and vicious ways in the past. She wasn’t about to lose her life to him, not when she had just found something as wonderful as Andreu.