Rowan shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Garrison tried his hand at playing Good Cop, but his permanent scowl made it hard for him to look anything but menacing. “Look, the officer we believe gave them to you has already been put on disciplinary leave, so you don’t have to worry about retribution. All you need to do is confirm it.”
Rowan swallowed a relieved sigh. They didn’t suspect Zoë. Who did they suspect, then? He wanted to give them a name to keep the heat off Zoë. She’d mentioned someone had blogged about his interrogation. Besides Garrison, there’d been Jenson and the skinny kid with the big mouth in the interrogation room.
Of the two, the kid was probably more likely to post a blog. He seemed overly interested in Rowan’s abilities. Rowan scanned back in his memory, trying to remember the kid’s name. He’d rather give them that than a description. If he was wrong, he could always say that wasn’t who he meant.
“Hinkle,” he blurted out as soon as the name badge came into focus in his memory.
Garrison and the chief exchanged a look that told him he’d hit it on the head, and Garrison muttered, “Little twerp needs to be taught a lesson. He shouldn’t even be here.”
The chief shook his head. “Why the hell would he give him the blood? What was in it for him?”
“He probably wanted to bribe more information out of him for his little blog.” Garrison gestured at Rowan.
Rowan breathed out slowly, his heartbeat settling. He felt better about leaving knowing that Zoë wouldn’t get in trouble. But then his pulse sped up again at the prospect of escape. “Is it time for my arraignment?”
The chief tapped on the laptop under the third officer’s arm. “Well, in light of the recent information we’ve received, we’re not too keen on letting you out of this here cage. Seems you’re not strong enough to escape it, even after consuming blood. Plus, we got protestors marching outside our doors who’d like to see you dead. Not that I’d mind that,” he sneered at Rowan, “but they’d probably mob us if we tried to transport you, and I’m not willing to put my officers at risk. So, we’ve decided to keep you in there, safe and sound, and try one of those high-tech video conferences.”
Rowan’s hopes plummeted as the officer opened the laptop and propped it up on the folding chair. He bent down, his knees creaking, and tapped on the keyboard for a few moments till an image of a judge’s chambers appeared.
The man sitting behind the desk looked older than the technology they were using and just as personable. His jowls rolled over the collar of his robe as he glanced down at the paperwork he held.
He read off Rowan’s rights and the charges against him, peering through scratched and clouded glasses, then gave him a chance to plead. Rowan plead not guilty, but he knew it didn’t matter what he said, he wasn’t getting out of there any time soon.
The judge casually scratched one of his long, white sideburns while ruining Rowan’s chances of escape with a few, official words. “Based on recent events, I believe it is in the public’s best interest to deny release at this time until further information can be obtained about the suspect. Mr. Eiris shall remain in police custody until trial.”
He set the trial date the maximum 45 days later then tapped his gavel with a dull thud, punctuating Rowan’s fate. Garrison and the chief smiled as the other officer closed out the video window and shut the laptop.
“Guess you’ll be staying here for a little while longer. How long can you survive without blood?” Garrison smirked at him.
Rowan stared back at him but didn’t answer. He should still be alive in 45 days, but he’d be way too weak to attempt escape unless he managed to find a blood supply between now and then.
Chapter 12
Rowan laid on his bed the next day, staring at the yellow patch of sunlight on the concrete floor, once again debating whether it was time to end it all. The odds that he’d ever see the outside world again were slim, and the fact that he’d recently discovered the existence of a whole city full of vampires only compounded his dejection. Just when the world was finally learning about vampires, he would die here in this cell, or another one like it, and never meet another of his kind.
“Rowan.” Zoë’s sweet voice yanked him from his morbid thoughts as she tiptoed towards him. For once, he’d been too caught up to notice her approaching footfalls.
“I heard about your arraignment. I’m really sorry.” She leaned on the black, metal bars, pressing her soft, pink cheek against them. It was such a strange contrast, emphasizing the disparity between their worlds. He stared at her, soaking in her presence. At least he’d have a bit more time with her.
“I wanted to show you something. It’s the vampire council meeting with the President.” She held out her cell phone.
Rowan pulled himself off his cot and went to her. He was curious to see what they looked like. Her fresh, sweet scent engulfed him as he moved in close enough to watch the video. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, her skin, but instead, he kept his hands at his sides and focused on the phone screen.
The seven men looked normal enough to pass for human, but he recognized an air of wisdom that came with centuries of life experience, even though they all appeared as young as he was. What was their story? How did they live? Did they blend into human society, or had they created their own world where they didn’t have to hide their true nature? Rowan was desperate to know, to see for himself. Desperate for a chance to join them and belong to a community again.
They sat around a glossy, mahogany conference table with the President, Vice President, and several advisors. They looked like business men having an important meeting, discussing the nature of vampirism as if it were an alternate lifestyle choice instead of a demonic curse as the legends portrayed it. Everyone acted professional and civil, and the President barely cringed when the head councilman shook his hand.
In the end, they agreed that vampires would be afforded the rights of human citizens, and it would be illegal for humans to hunt or kill vampires. But any vampire caught drinking human blood would be arrested, and human police were not required to provide blood for them. Any vampire who infected a human would receive an automatic death sentence. The vampires would fund and staff an official agency responsible for policing and prosecuting their kind since human law enforcement would be unable to contain vampires who far exceeded their strength or methods of restraint.
Zoë looked up at him with hope flickering in her eyes, as blue as the sky he’d never see again. “This is good, right? I thought it would turn into a witch hunt, but the government is treating them like human beings. There’s already an interest group campaigning for the ethical treatment of vampires.”
“It’s great.” His voice cracked, and he turned and walked away, tempted again by the patch of sunlight. It was more fair and ethical than he ever expected, but it did nothing for his situation.
“What’s wrong?” She slipped the phone into her pocket and grabbed onto the bars.
If only one of them was strong enough to pull them apart. But the bars weren’t the only thing separating them. He kept his back to her. Looking at her made him long for what he could never have.
“It will be months before the agency is up and running and able to assume my case. By then, I’ll have starved to death.”
“Not if you had blood.”
He turned back around, missing her face already. “Where would I get it? You heard what they agreed to. They’re not required to give vampire prisoners blood. And I really doubt any of the officers here will feel inclined to help me. They’re afraid I’ll be able to escape if I get my strength back.”
“Maybe I could bring you blood.” She rubbed her hands up and down the bars nervously.
His heart melted at her willingness to help him. What had he ever done to earn her devotion? But her ignorance outweighed her kindness.
He shook his head and walked towards her again. He couldn’t resist being close to her. “You can
’t just buy blood from the grocery store, Zoë. You’d have to have access to a blood bank and the skills to steal it without getting caught. You’d need to be a certified medical technician to even get a job working around blood.”
“Oh.” She ducked her head and stared at her fingers, twisting them together. When she looked up, her plump lip was pressed between her small, white teeth, and her eyes burned with an emotion he didn’t immediately recognize.
“What if you just drank from me?” Her words came out as faint as a dove’s coo.
Emotion welled up in him, threatening to choke him, and desire surged through his body, setting his nerve endings on fire, igniting a flame in his belly that flared up into his throat. His mouth flooded with saliva, trying to quench the fire. His lips curls back, and he sucked in a deep breath with a hiss as his fangs descended. His body tensed, ready to pounce.
The next thing he knew, he was inches from her face, breathing in the intoxicating smell of her blood, heightened by the rush of fear that was suddenly coursing through her veins. She was terrified and exhilarated at the same time.
She gasped and jerked back at his sudden nearness. Her body shivered, and the tiny hairs on her arm stood up as goose bumps pebbled her flesh.
He shook his head even as his eyes searched her neck for a vein. “You don’t know what you’re offering, Zoë.”
“I don’t think you’d hurt me,” she said, but her voice wavered, obviously not convinced.
It would be very hard to stop if he started, but no, he didn’t have to drink her dry. He could drink a pint or two, and she’d be just fine. But would he? Drinking from a live vein was intense, erotic, as intimate as sex. The feelings it evoked would drive him mad with desire for her. It would be incredibly difficult to stop and almost impossible to break the bond that would develop between them. It had been a very long time since he’d drunk from someone directly, but he could still remember the experience like it was yesterday.
Slowly, she stretched a thin, pale arm through the bars, holding it out to him. His hand reached out, independent of his will, and trailed down the length of it, caressing her tender flesh, his fingers coming to rest on her wrist. He pressed gently on the veins, feeling the blood pulse against his fingers. The thinnest membrane of skin protected her throbbing vein. It would take the smallest prick of his fang to slice it open.
When he lifted her wrist to his face, her pulse quickened. Her heart pounded frantically, and the blood surged, desperate to be taken. He breathed in the heady scent, letting it mesmerize him for a long moment. Suddenly coming to his senses, he pushed it away from his face before his need clouded his mind completely.
He stared at her, confused and overwhelmed. “Why, Zoë? Why would you do that? Most people would be utterly repulsed. Why do you want to help me?”
“Because you’re not a criminal or a monster, and you don’t deserve to die.” She ducked her head, hiding the emotion swirling in her ocean blue eyes. “And because I care about you.”
The words cut through the dark cloud that had surrounded him ever since Anna died. She was the only one who had cared about him in so long, he thought she was the only one who ever would. Was it possible that this human girl could too?
He wanted to kiss her so badly, for a moment it outweighed his desire to taste her. He gave in to temptation and reached a hand through the bars to stroke her hair, her face, her neck. Her skin was as soft as butterfly wings. Her cheeks pinked under his touch. He curled his fingers around her neck, ready to pull her to him, but she beat him to it, leaning forward till her face was pressed against the bars. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, waiting for him to complete the kiss.
He couldn’t resist it. His lips descended on hers as gentle as a hummingbird at first. But she sucked in a breath, pulling the air from his mouth and drawing his lips to hers. He claimed her then, taking her bottom lip between his, biting at the plump flesh, then pressing tender kisses against her before delving in deeper. With great effort, he held back the monster that craved her blood and focused on the pleasure of her kiss, savoring her without giving in to his need.
His body hummed with pleasure like a current of electricity, their pounding hearts the only sound he could hear. He lost himself in the sensation, and everything else disappeared. But when his fang nicked her lip, a drop of blood beaded up on her skin, and his tongue swooped in to wipe it away. The taste exploded in his mouth, knocking him off his precarious ledge of self control.
His need took over, and he threw himself at her, his hands groping for her, his mouth and fangs ready to attack as the bloodlust took over him. But his body crashed into the bars with a clang, sending him reeling backwards.
The impact and sudden separation shook him from his delirium. He bent at the waist and grabbed his knees, panting, his body shaking. When he looked up, Zoë was wide-eyed and stunned.
“No, this is wrong. You need to go before I do something we’ll both regret. Get out of here, Zoë, and don’t come back.” His voice was hard, cold, demanding as he flung out a hand, gesturing for her to leave.
Her lips quivered, and fat tears pooled in her eyes then dropped to her cheeks, making shiny, wet streaks down the pink skin. She stared at him for a moment, pain clouding her sky blue eyes, before whirling around and taking off.
He threw back his arms and let out a roar. If he’d had the strength, he would’ve torn his cell apart, ripping the fixtures from the walls and clawing long gouges in the concrete. Instead, he stepped into the patch of sunlight on the floor and ripped his clothes off, letting the rays attack his body.
Chapter 13
Rowan’s roar echoed down the hallway, bouncing off the concrete walls. Then Zoë heard fabric tearing and another, agonized wail. He was going to kill himself, she knew it.
She raced away from him even though her heart was pulling her in the other direction. He didn’t want her. She’d told him how she felt about him and he’d kissed her like he felt the same way, but he’d still pushed her away.
She skidded to a stop and bent over, clutching one hand to her stomach as his rejection stabbed into her again. Her lungs gasped for air as the pain pressed against them, squeezing them till there was no room left for air.
But as much as it hurt, it didn’t change the way she felt about him. She still cared about him too much to let him die. Even if he didn’t want her, she had to save him somehow. But what could she do? She had to do something to stop him.
She dashed to the maintenance closet, her sneakers squeaking on the hard floors, and yanked the door open. She scanned the battered, wooden shelves, looking for something. She didn’t know what, but her subconscious must’ve brought her here for a reason.
Her eyes landed on a box of large, black trash bags. Maybe she could block his window from outside! She grabbed it then rooted around some more, pushing aside cleaning supplies, packages of paper towels, and old tools till she unearthed a silver roll of duct tape on a high shelf that she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach.
Rowan’s window was high up in his cell, too, and there were large bushes surrounding the outside of the station. She’d never be able to reach it. But there was a ladder in the corner behind brooms and mops. She tossed them aside, grabbing the ladder. But it was old and heavy, and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to carry it all the way outside and around to his window. And what if someone tried to stop her?
She’d already wasted several minutes. She didn’t know how long it would take for the sun to kill him, but she couldn’t risk the time it would take to execute her plan. She had to think of something else, something that wouldn’t take more than a few moments.
Her eyes fell on a boxcutter, hanging from a hook on the wall by a leather loop. She reached out, her hand moving in slow motion, till her fingers wrapped around the cold, dull gray metal. She lifted it off the hook and pressed her thumb against the ridged button, forcing the rusty blade into view. Her heart beat so hard, she could hear it in her ears, feel it pound
ing against her flesh, the rhythmic pulse like a voice repeating the same command over and over again.
There was nothing else she could do that would distract him quickly, and she had no time left to spare. She’d already offered to let him drink from her; this was no different. She didn’t have time to analyze the decision, and she didn’t have to. She would do whatever it took to save him.
Grasping the blade tight in her sweaty hand, she raced back down the hall towards Rowan’s cell, dodging a few people who were in the hallway. She couldn’t worry about what they’d think or what they might do. She had to get to Rowan now. She skidded around the corner, and the sight tore her stomach from her center.
Rowan was standing spread-eagle in the rectangle of light, wearing nothing but his boxers. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed, and his mouth open, but his scream had died in his throat. A yellow glow of sunlight surrounded his body, but his normally-pale flesh was bright red, singed with black, and covered with giant, oozing blisters. Dark smoke curled around him.
Zoë gasped and opened her mouth to scream at him but stopped herself before the sound escaped. She didn’t dare draw anymore attention to herself, or to him. Instead, Zoë held out her arm and pressed the blade to her flesh.
The tip made a divot in the pale skin of her wrist but didn’t pierce it. With one hard pull, she raked the blade across it, slicing through the skin and veins. She bit her tongue to keep herself from crying out. The blade clattered to the floor at her feet, and her hand reached to cover the wound as blood gushed from it, running down her hand and dripping red splotches on the floor. Pain flared up her arm, pulsing in waves with each heartbeat.
It only took a moment for the scent to hit Rowan. His eyes popped open, and his lips curled in a hiss. He spun around, and Zoë recoiled at the gruesome sight of his charred flesh. But she forced herself to step closer and pushed her arm through the bars.
Captured by the Vampire: Vampire Enforcement Agency Series Prequel Page 7
