I’m not dealing with usual, day to day people. Nothing in my life is normal. I’m not even dealing with things that walk in the light of the day. The chateau has become my prison and is monitored day and night by vampires. That throws a wrench in my plans. A big one. I can run, in the daylight, to the town, but then Aydin will send one his suited henchmen to retrieve me. He is bound to me. We are connected.
So, instead of running pleading for help, wild and hysterical which is exactly what I feel, I am doing what every southern-bred woman does in times of duress. I am day-drinking. No wine for me, I have moved on to the hard stuff.
It is the middle of the day. A bottle of lord-only-knows how old scotch sits next to me. I am in a makeshift bathing suit, consisting of a silky white bra and panties, laying by the pool, a small glass of clear liquid in my hand. My fear over the last few days has faded. Henri I know won’t touch me. He crossed a line that even the psycho vampire family I was born into won’t allow. For once, I am grateful for the protection. His futile attempt at an apology fell on deaf ears. I can only hear that Aydin has changed me and Claudette’s warning. I am Henri’s obsession.
I try to sip my drink, but the warmth sits in my belly, churning my insides. More accurately, I am trying to day-drink and failing miserably.
The hot sun feels good on my skin, a thin layer of sweat covers my body. The material of my garments is thin, revealing more than what I would usually be comfortable showing. Considering that my life no longer belongs to me, I don’t care. There is not much left they can take away.
I sip my scotch again and try not to choke on the taste. Aydin is the one that I always see sipping the drink. I need to remember to tell him it is putrid. If I talk to him again. My stomach sinks. He is meant to keep me safe and he has delivered me straight to the mouth of hell. I want to hate him, but I can’t. For whatever reason he cared about Emily and I enough to risk his life. No matter how cruelly he acts, no matter what he has done, I know that is not his real face. He has let me see past it too many times.
Pain tries to needle its way in. I want to feel nothing over the pain they all have caused. I sip more scotch, my head is light and I close my eyes, sipping even more. Eventually, it will stop, and the hurt will fade, replaced by sweet numbness. Soft tingles of alcohol induced nothingness.
“Ashur wants to talk to you.”
I scream, loud, and sit upright, spilling my drink. Lance stands over me and I curse.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I say and place the drink down. As I stand I see Lance has looked away, his eyes focusing on the wall just behind me. Interesting. He is the only one that doesn’t eye me. I walk to the pool and slide in ignoring him. The cool water washes away the sweat and spilled scotch.
“Ms. Duval, Ashur would like to speak with you.” Lance tries a nicer approach. His voice softening, as if that will help.
I continue to ignore him and dunk under the water. When I resurface, Lance is standing by the pool holding my dress. His face is unreadable. He blinks and turns his head away, pressing the small device in his ear, communicating something to someone. Probably that I am difficult. It is a little thing, childish really. The only bit of arsenal I have, being ornery.
I step from the pool, walk to the towel I have laid out, and pour myself another drink. Lance’s large hand grabs my arm and yanks me toward the gate. I would yell, but I’m so shocked I can’t open my mouth. In over two weeks he has not touched me. Barely spoke and suddenly he is manhandling me.
With my drink still in hand and my other arm clasped by Lance, I am not so gently guided to the house. My body is almost completely exposed in the flimsy wet material. Goosebumps spread out, revealing my nipples under my bra. Only a thin layer of lace covers the most important parts on my bottom. Now I feel exposed.
Lance takes me to the back of the chateau, where I know they walk about. When we reach the back, he leads me to the servant stairs up to the third floor. I have never been in this part of the house. All the windows are sealed with thick heavy curtains blocking out the sun. Here, I thought everyone has been running around the lower levels, and they have really been right above me.
My arm aches, the skin twisting as Lance leads me to massive double doors. He pushes them open and escorts me in, practically shoving me to the center of the room. Instead of Ashur, I see Aydin, standing in what looks like a study. He is leaned up against the fireplace, his back to us, looking in the black mouth where the fire should have been.
“Here,” Lance says, his voice mean and out of character. He throws my dress over the back of a small loveseat and without another word, walks out, shutting the door behind him.
“I thought he said Ashur wanted to see me.”
Aydin turns, his mouth opens, his eyes widen and he looks away. My entire body heats, reacting to his expression. A blush moves from my chest up to my cheeks. I refuse to budge. It doesn’t matter that he can see almost entirely my upper half and the lower garments leave little to the imagination. Pride and sheer stupidity keeps me from covering myself. I am going to have the upper-hand in this situation. Even if it means I am practically naked in front of the one person who has seen me grow over almost thirty years.
Aydin looks back, keeping his eyes glued to mine. He has regained his composure and his finger rubs his bottom lip. “I thought you would come if you thought it was Ashur that wanted to speak with you,” he says.
I remain silent. Obviously, I don’t want to talk to anyone.
“No escape plan today?” He sticks his hand in the pocket of his crisp slacks. Today the suit is a charcoal gray, almost black. His eyes are clear and bright, a beautiful contrast.
“Well, yeah, but I don’t think it would work,” I say. “Security around here is tight.”
Aydin gives me a dry look.
“I could get out by going through the kitchen, maybe get as far as the winery this time.” My hand goes to my hip, resisting the urge to cover my breasts. “Maybe one of the workers would help. Doubtful though.”
“No, they wouldn’t help.” Aydin shakes his head. His jaw clenches and he blinks. “There are tunnels that lead directly to the chateau. There are tunnels all over the town too, but they aren’t connected.”
I shrug. It isn’t like it worked last few times I have tried.
“Seems you have decided to feel sorry for yourself instead. Is this the route you are taking?” He points to the glass in my hand, his brows turned down, his mouth sour. “I’m beginning to think you have a drinking problem.”
“Drinking is the least of my problems.”
“So, you are going to spend the rest of your life drunk?”
I look to my glass and bring it to my lips. With tearing eyes, I take a long drink and nod. The liquor burns my throat and I choke on the word, “Yes.”
“Instead of fighting, you are just going to sit back and let everyone take advantage of you?”
“Not much of a choice. The Head of Security is a real ass. Seems another attempt to escape is futile.”
I think he smiles. “That is very unlike you, Charlotte.”
“Since you know me so well.”
“I know you better than you think.”
“You seem to think there is room for improvement,” I spit out.
Aydin takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “Are you going to spread your legs so Henri can fuck you over as well?”
The glass flies from my hand and shatters on the mantle next to him. He doesn’t even flinch. “Isn’t that the plan? I have to stay here so he can fuck me whenever he wants?” I scream at him. My voice tears through the room like a maniac. “Fuck you, Aydin!”
“Watch that nasty mouth!” He yells. Aydin walks to the love seat and tosses the dress to me. It lands at my feet. He sits on the seat, less than a foot from me and rolls his eyes.
Rolls his eyes.
My temper flares. I am on him. I lash at his face, his head, his shoulders. I want to tear him apart. He lets me, for a m
inute. He doesn’t shield his face, only turns his head, closing his eyes before he grabs my wrists. His touch burns and sorrow fills me to my teeth. There is no escaping it. My legs weaken and I crumble in front of him to my knees. Tears start to fall over my cheeks. I look away, but I don’t care. He already knows how hurt I am. I have let it slip and let him in. I can’t keep him out no matter how hard I try. I barely know his thoughts from my own. All because he has twisted my world, saved my life and gave me his blood. I can’t escape him because of it. I hate him for it and myself as well. For my weakness. My desire for him, my anger, and desperation that wants to trust him. Needs to trust him.
Aydin’s grip tightens on my wrists and he shakes me hard. My teeth rattle and I am stunned quiet. The tears stop and I turn to look at him. His eyes are cold, his face hard and unreadable. He forces me up, so I am standing in front of him. My wrists are released and he sits back holding my eyes. My body heats, I can smell my sweat and my fear, giving away my desire and agony.
Long, thin fingers brush over my arm, barely grazing the skin. The kiss of his fingers raises goosebumps over my body. My nipples harden and I close my eyes. My breathes are heavy and shallow. Aydin is daring. He isn’t supposed to touch me. We aren’t supposed to be here, alone. I wonder if anyone even knows where we are. Aydin’s fingers touch the tips of mine, bringing my thoughts back to him.
I have known what I feel isn’t completely my own. It has grown to such a size, when I am near him I can’t tell who it belongs to. I open my eyes to see that he is watching me, his eyes move over my face. Aydin’s hand goes to his mouth, his finger rubs his lip. I want to reach out and grab his thoughts. Force him to show me what he is thinking.
I step closer, but he leans back shaking his head in warning. I freeze. Aydin’s arms spread out behind him, resting on the back of the seat. He won’t let my gaze move from his gray eyes. His lips part and his tongue touches the corner of his mouth. Everything in me leans out, wanting to take it in my teeth. To force him to move his tongue over me so I can feel his cool breath and rough desire.
The bright gray of his eyes cloud and the pupils dilate. Our eyes break as he lets his move down. My skin catches fire as he gazes over my lips, my neck, the fabric over my breasts. They move hungrily, down over the curve of my hip, resting only for a moment, on the thin lace that barely covers the space between my legs.
Aydin takes a deep breath, filling his lungs and releases it in a rush before he looks away.
“Go to your room and get dressed.” His voice is rough and hard, giving him away. His body reveals the truth, it pounds into me and I feel every lick of want. He is every sin, boxed up and hidden in the form of a man. He lies to everyone, himself worst of all. No one can have me. Henri holds no power, he can’t touch me or try to claim me. Aydin already has.
AYDIN
Chapter Thirty-six
A terrible savage beast lies within me. He is dark and demented. He sits hunched, on hooves, forming depraved thoughts in his sick mind. There are times he almost breaks free, times I want him to. This sickens me the most. My desire to unleash him, to unlock his cage and let him take her. I play with the locks, weaken them, threaten to release him unto the world where I know, just know he will devour her.
How have I come to this? How have I gone from her fierce protector to the one that she needs to be saved from? I am disgusting and immoral. Any ounce of humanity that rests in me falls out, trampled under this monsters feet, in his desperate need to have her.
It comes out, threatens to break free every time Henri looks at her. That is all he has to do, just graze his eyes over her body. I know what his eyes hold, it matches my own. I am familiar with its savagery, this unclean lust. I am as full to the brink as Henri with greed. It makes me want to tear his eyes out, to capture what he sees when he looks at her and remove it from his thoughts.
It is unclear when this started. There is not an exact moment I can look back and recognize when the hideous beast was born. I have carried him around, my entire life. It may have started, only a beating heart, when I gave her my blood the night of the accident. It may have been the night she sat in the village at the bar. When I could smell Henri’s greed on her, how it was tangled up in her soft scent. Everything in me craved to remove it. To wipe his memory from behind her eyes, erase the places he had touched and color it with my own. It started to eat at me. I could feel its teeth gnawing at my insides, wanting out.
I had let Charlotte go, and told no one she had slipped out and gone into town. No one followed her, no one could watch her. It was a stroke of luck I manipulated to be near her. To touch her skin and feel her warmth. I, of course, had to be the one to fetch Charlotte. My pride wouldn’t allow for anything else.
The knowledge that my blood runs through her veins sparks this beast’s insanity. It breathes life into my locked up monster. He rears his head and claws to be free. His cries make my teeth long and my heart beat faster. He wants her. Needs her. Sometimes, I know, I am no better than Henri.
But, Henri is on edge, something about him is changing. At times, he seems darker and out of control. Thin layers are peeled back, and its ugliness peaks out. I had asked Lucius to keep his eyes open, he is after all, her Guardian. I no longer am expected to protect her, no longer allowed. Lucius was supposed to keep a better eye on Charlotte. He knows how I worried over Henri. Henri’s act of betrayal is far worse than cruel hands, I can see it written in her eyes. He wants nothing more than to humiliate, debase and control her.
That is what he is made of, this beast. He is made up of the stuff of the betrayed. Broken promises and violating touches. He was born from it, created in it, just as I. From vacant eyes and innocence lost. How many of those have I seen in my life? Too many. I couldn’t save them all, though I had tried.
Every fiber in me screams to kill Henri. A slow torturous death. I want to rip his eyelids back and force him to look at what he has done to her. Tear his hands so he could no longer feel the greed that drove them. The depravity of my thoughts shock even me. For he is still, somewhere in there, the boy I cared for.
After I had been created, I was powerful, my strength far exceeded Ashur and the thought was terrifying. I had little control and it took years before it was mastered. When I was finally disciplined, I kept it close. I never gave into greed and the bloodlust that makes us who we are. I am a master in control. Except once. And it has ruined everyone I ever loved.
Charlotte stands in front of me, her eyes flash as I speak. My secret has been revealed and she knows my thoughts. Her body reacts, the scent of her desire makes me dizzy. Everything about her is intoxicating. The faint smell of sweat on her skin, the water that dampens the thin white silk that covers her. My fangs grow long and I am scared to talk. She will see what she does to me.
I am disgusting. I lust after the little girl I had protected. There is nothing more I can think of. Charlotte consumes my every thought. How her skin would taste. How sweet and thick her blood would feel sliding down my throat. It tightens at the thought. I sit still, unmoving. If I try to escape her, she will capture me. The monster will break free and she will be left in ruin.
Charlotte would be easy to manipulate. She is scared, confused, and hurt by the very people she loves. With her standing inches from me, her body and its warmth are all I want. My insides scream to take her and tell her she wants nothing but me. I have the power to force her desire, force her hands, to control her heart and feel her skin on mine.
But, they all want to control her. Her life and her blood, her power and the beautiful light that draws me to her. I refuse to be one of them. I don’t deserve the luxury of her desire.
“Go,” I say, again. She’s not listening. She hasn’t since she arrived at the chateau. I don’t know why I expect her to now.
“You think you’re so dangerous, Mr Thanos,” she says, her voice is low and throaty. “So self-contained. Always in control of everything.”
I stand and she backs away. I move fo
rward too fast and she stumbles; her back hits the door. “You are lucky that I am, Charlotte.” I put my hands on either side of her, trapping her. Reason calls to me from far away. I know I need to stop. All other sounds fade, nothing but her ragged breaths and drumming heart echo in my head.
“Powerful Aydin.” Her voice is callous and mocking. I bite my tongue to keep my mouth shut. “Everyone has to listen to you. So strong, but you can’t even keep two little women safe.”
There is red in the corners of my eyes. She shrinks back, yet I can hear her laugh. I know I am losing control. She is acting cruel. I finally feel her anger. It is deserved. I know it is. Yet, it is amazing, that it effects me so. “You have an acid tongue, Charlotte.”
She seems at a loss for words. I know my pupils have dilated, I know she can see the tips of my fangs as I speak. I grab her hair and yank her head back. Her hands reach up and she makes a small sound, her lips parting. I am no better than Henri. I know this. I want to stop, but I can’t.
“Do you think, by using harsh words, you can hurt me?” I ask. Her hair is so warm between my fingers, the strands soft. I can smell her shampoo and the scotch on her breath. Her thighs press together and I almost completely lose control. The scent of her arousal hits my nose, my mouth waters. “Your nasty little mouth does nothing to me.”
“Does this make you feel stronger Aydin?” Her voice is fearful, but her lips twist into a sneer. She has so little self-control over her mouth, it is alarming. “Are you going to try to force yourself on me too?” Charlotte’s voice tears.
She thinks I would hurt her? I let go of her hair and rest my forehead to hers. My eyes close, and my deep breaths try to calm me, but I’m still on edge. How can she make me so weak? I breathe her in deep, and place my hands on the door behind her. I know if I touch her again, I may not let go.
“You have to trust me, Charlotte.” My voice sounds desperate. I hope she can’t see what she does to me.
In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 Page 27
