by Katee Robert
“When I’m sure you won’t try to carve out my heart, I will.”
“Looks like someone already tried and botched the job.” I jerk my chin at the mangled scars on his chest. “I’m more than happy to do it properly.”
He chuckles, a dry rasping sound. “What’s your name, little dhampir?”
As much as I want to dig in my heels instead of answering, it won’t serve any purpose. I’m here for the foreseeable future. Might as well be on a first name basis with my captor, willing or no. “Mina.”
“Mina.” He says it slowly. “It suits you.”
“If you say so.”
Malachi reverses the knife in a smooth move and presses it to the side of his throat. “You seem like a smart girl.”
I blink. “Um.”
“Too smart to deny yourself a tool, even if I’m the one giving it to you.”
I don’t know he’s right about that, but I can’t help staring at his throat as he drags the tip of the knife over his skin, leaving a thin trail of blood in its wake. My fangs ache in response. I might not require blood the way actual vampires do, but the desire is still there. “What are you doing?”
“Blood is power, little dhampir.” He leans in, pressing against me, until his neck is a few spare inches from my mouth. “Drink from me enough and your knee will mend itself.”
“Impossible.” I throw the word out like a life preserver. “It’s healed already.”
“Not impossible.” He tilts his head to the side, baring his neck completely. “Drink.”
I shouldn’t. It’s another tie linking me to him. His bloodline’s power might not be glamour like my father’s, but sharing blood back is what vampires do to mind-fuck humans. I’ve never drank from a vampire before. I don’t know what will happen if I do.
But if he’s not lying… If it can heal my knee…
My tongue snakes out without permission and drags over his neck. That small taste feels like a nuclear bomb going off inside me. I stop thinking, stop trying to rationalize my way through this. I simply act.
I bite him.
I have no finesse, like he demonstrated even when he was tackling me to the floor that first time. I’m too desperate for more.
His blood is like lightning on my tongue. It lights every nerve ending up. I swear I can actually feel the power rolling through my body. I want more.
Malachi digs his hand into my hair and gently pries me off him. “That’s enough.”
“But—” I can’t take my eyes off his neck. Even as I watch, the wounds close. “More.”
“Not today.” He steps back slowly, as if it pains him to put distance between us. “Get some sleep, Mina. You’re going to need it.”
I inhale. Even the air tastes different with his power flowing through my veins. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to…” I look at him. He really is sexy in a brutal sort of way. I can appreciate that, appreciate his strength and the way his eyes bleed to black when he looks at me. “I want to fuck.”
“Not that, either.”
“Why not?” Is this what being drunk feels like? It’s completely different than the bliss of his bite. That’s a physical thing and it eases almost as soon as his fangs leave my skin. This feeling is in my veins, searing me right to my very soul. I shiver. “It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He’s studying me, but I’m too loopy to read his expression. “But not yet. If you still want my cock when you wake up, you’re more than welcome to it.”
“I want it now.” I hop off the counter, but the world shifts, turning topsy-turvy on me. My bones go liquid and the last thing I feel before darkness claims me is Malachi’s strong arms closing around me.
4
I wake up in the same bed as before. Unlike last time, I don’t feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I feel great. Like I’ve had a full night’s sleep and a month’s worth of well-balanced meals. I sit up slowly and look down. My dress is back in place, but a quick check shows the bite marks are healed as if they never existed.
I prod my knee, but though the pain is fainter than normal, I don’t feel much different. Maybe it was all bullshit, but I can’t deny I feel better than I have in months.
Maybe that’s the point, though.
Biting him drugs me as much as his bite does. The first dose was free, but he’ll demand I fuck him for another.
The thought should fill me with horror. Having sex with Malachi means playing out the scheme my father put into motion. But the thought feels distant. Malachi isn’t anything like I expected. Oh, he’s vampire through and through—arrogant and predatory and sure that might makes right. But if he was as much monster my father is, he would have taken everything he wanted from me that first time in the foyer. He’d have chained me to a bed somewhere and gotten down to business until I’m knocked up or dead.
But just because Malachi is taking a softer route doesn’t mean he’s a better person. I have to remember that. Even if part of me feels a thrill of anticipation at the thought of his hands on me again.
I climb carefully to my feet, and my knee doesn’t buckle the way it sometimes does first thing in the morning. A few careful moments brings some pain, but my mobility is already better than it was.
Maybe he wasn’t shitting me, after all.
The thought rocks me back on my heels. This, out of everything, doesn’t make sense. I’m here. I’m more or less willing to play my part. I might hold out as long as possible, but it’s inevitable I end up in his bed at some point. Especially with that bite of his. He has absolutely no reason to heal me. None. Not when I’ve already admitted my father pulverized my knee because I have a history of running.
I don’t understand this vampire, and that scares me more than anything else that’s happened.
I make a circuit around the room. My suitcase is gone, which initially fills me with panic, but I find it tucked in the wardrobe, along with all my clothing that’s been unpacked. I frown at the neat row of shirts and pants and dresses. “Pushy.”
The thought of putting clean clothes on without cleaning my body first makes me leave the wardrobe and go check the second door I didn’t bother with this morning. Sure enough, it leads to a bathroom. I don’t have high hopes for the plumbing, but when I turn the facet on the large copper tub, the water comes out clear and hot.
I eye the door. I could try to block it, but what’s the point? If he really wants into the room, he’ll end up here, chair in front of the doorknob or no.
Will he see me not locking the door as an invitation?
I refuse to examine that thought too closely as I strip and step into the tub. The water is hot enough to make me hiss out a surprised breath, but I sink down into it all the same and lean my head back. I didn’t realize how cold I was until now, when heat begins soaking into my body.
The creak of a floorboard has me opening my eyes to find Malachi leaning against the wall across from the tub. I narrow my eyes. “Did you make a sound on purpose?”
“You seem opposed to me surprising you.”
“Gee, I wonder why?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, which leads me to realize he’s changed since I saw him last, too. Now he’s wearing a pair of low-slung pants…and nothing else. His body is too lean for his wide shoulders and sturdy frame, confirming my suspicion he’s gone without regular feedings for a long time. And he’s covered in scars. The one over his heart is the worst of them, but there are slashing and stabbing marks, and more than a few bullet holes. And that’s just what I can see from my position.
I frown. “If your healing power is so superior, why are you scarred up?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know. If the wound is made with silver, it doesn’t always heal properly.” He touches the one over his heart. “The scarring is mostly surface-level though.”
I hadn’t known that. Why didn’t I know that?
I study him. “Are you here to collect your daily feeding?”
“You don’t seem particularly
opposed to the idea.”
No, opposed isn’t the word I’d use. Damn it, but even the sight of him has desire coursing through me. There’s no point in denying it, either, because his senses are acute enough to pick up on all the signs. “Might as well get it over with.”
Malachi’s lips curve. “Such a noble sacrifice.”
“You’re stronger than me. Faster than me. And your bite ensures I become a willing victim the second you get your fangs into my skin. Fighting you is pointless, and I try to save my strength for battles I can win.” It sounds logical enough, even if I feel anything but.
The bastard laughs. It’s just as rusty as the last time. “No, Mina. I’m not here to take my daily feeding.”
I draw my knees to my chest and refuse to categorizing the sinking feeling inside me. “Then why are you here?”
“I suppose I owe you an apology.” He studies me for a long moment. “All the others who’ve come through that door felt differently about the role than you do. If I hadn’t been half-starved, I would have realized it.”
Half-starved. I knew it. “Why wait for your meal to come to you? You’re more than capable of taking care of it yourself.”
He ignores the question and taps his fingers against his forearm. “I suppose if you want your freedom, you’re more than welcome to leave.”
Ah, so this is just another game. I glare. “You should really work on your sense of humor. You know as well as I do I can’t leave.”
“Do I?” He doesn’t move. “Walk out the door. I won’t stop you.”
“And the guards my father has posted around the property?”
His mouth tightens. “I’ll handle it. I’m more than capable of keeping them distracted long enough for you to slip away.”
For a moment, I almost believe him. Freedom is what I crave more than anything else in the world. If there’s a chance…
But then reality raises its ugly head.
I have nowhere to go. No money. No way to pass among the humans without raising some eyebrows and doing something that puts me on the government’s radar. From there, it’s a short trip to a padded cell, at best. At worst, to some scientist’s lab to be experimented on for the rest of my life. With enough preparation, I might be able to slip into the world without a ripple, but I don’t have that knowledge or resources required.
Not to mention the fact my father will not let me leave in peace. If he realizes I’ve run, he’ll send his hunters after me. There’s nowhere I can hide they won’t find me, and when they drag me right back I’ll be worse off than I started.
No. No matter how much I dream of running, it’s not really an option. It never was.
I close my eyes and fight against the burning behind my lids. I don’t know if he’s doing this on purpose, but it feels particularly cruel to offer me what I’ve always wanted and force me to reject it. “I’m staying.”
“The offer stands.”
I press my lips together, hating the way the bottom one quivers. My anger feels so far away right now. Everything feels far away right now. “You are such a bastard.”
“I’ve been accused of worse.”
I finally look at him again. Desperate to focus on something else, I go back over what he said. How he apologized. How he dodged my one question. Why he’d be so starved even though he seems more than capable enough of hunting. I frown. “You’re stuck here, too, aren’t you?”
Malachi lifts a single shoulder. “It’s complicated.”
Complicated. Smells like vampire politics to me.
I push it away. It’s a mystery for another day, and I’m suddenly too exhausted to poke at him any longer. “I suppose we might as well fuck since you’ve rubbed my nose in the fact I’m stuck here.”
He barks out a laugh. “Enjoy the rest of your bath, little dhampir.” A blur of movement and he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him.
Every time I think I’ve managed my expectations, he does something to pull the rug out from beneath my feet. I don’t understand what’s going on, and I don’t feel like things are going to change any time soon.
It takes three minutes to acknowledge the relaxation of my bath is ruined. I wash quickly and get out. After some consideration, I pull on a pair of yoga pants and a baggy shirt before I leave the room. I need food.
And maybe part of me wants to provoke another encounter with Malachi. He’s so unexpected, I never quite know what he’ll do. Attack. Seduce. Apologize. He’s brought my most unforgivable trait to the fore.
He’s made me curious.
I make my way back to the kitchen and stop short in the doorway. It almost looks like a different room from the one I visited earlier. Every surface gleams and it smells faintly of lemon. The only thing that remains from yesterday is the faded paint of the walls. I walk to the fridge and pull it open, my jaw dropping at the sight of it filled to capacity with a wide variety of food and drink. “What the hell?”
I slept through the majority of the day, and I expected Malachi did the same. Sunlight is barely an inconvenience for vampires, no matter what the human legends say, but most of them prefer to keep nocturnal schedules to avoid the irritating brightness. Either there’s someone else in the house with us… Or he cleaned the kitchen and stocked the fridge for me.
How the hell did he stock the fridge if he’s trapped here?
“Tricky vampire,” I murmur. I shove down the weird warmth in my chest. Of course he’s ensuring I can feed myself. I’m no use to him if I starve to death, and no matter how much power his blood carries, I still need actual food to survive. The blood bank dries up if I die. Surely that’s why he did this. Believing anything else is a fool’s thought.
Refusing to eat out of spite is silly, so I grab the makings for a light breakfast that’s heavy in protein. It feels strange to sit at the kitchen table and eat slowly, rather than shove food in my mouth before someone decides to deprive me. My father always allowed me meals in a begrudging manner, as if my very need to eat inconvenienced him. It didn’t seem to matter there were other humans in the colony who had the same biological requirements I do. Every reminder of my human side irritated him.
At least until he found a use for me.
I blink down at my empty plate. I’m not sure how long I’ve been staring at it. I give myself a shake and clean up my dishes and put everything away. I look around the kitchen again and frown. What am I supposed to do for all the hours in between Malachi biting me? In the colony, after breakfast, I’d immediately be put to work at whatever menial task I was assigned that day. Before my knee injury, I’d sneak in a workout at some point, too. The younger turned vampires loved to spar with me because it gave them an excuse to beat the shit out of me. They’ll always be faster, but I picked up plenty of skills in the process.
With nothing else to do, I go exploring. The house is more or less what I expect. Room after room on the verge of decay, all with peeling wallpaper or fading paint. Dust covering everything. The whole house needs an update in the worst way.
I stop at the back door and stare out over the fields behind the house. A ring of trees mask the fence I know circles the entire property, a tall imposing iron monstrosity designed to deter even the most curious explorer. I’m reasonably sure I can wander anywhere within that fence without worrying about running into the guards, but I’m not willing to test it out. Not yet.
Instead, I turn around and head upstairs. More rooms, most of them bedrooms, but I hit the jackpot in the back corner of the house. I walk through the door and have the strangest feeling I’ve walked into a different building entirely. It’s been converted to a passably modern gym. The walls are painted a new-ish white and the dusty carpet has been torn up and replaced with wood floors which are only moderately beat up. A free-weight set looms in the back corner, stacks upon stacks of weights on the bar. A fancy treadmill is pushed against the other wall, angled to look out the window. In the center is a mat similar to what we had in the colony for sparring.
; Huh.
I poke at the treadmill, a bittersweet feeling rising in my chest. There was a time when I would have given my left arm to have access to equipment like this. A chance to properly train. My knee might feel okay right now, but I suspect it’s a false feeling created a side effect from taking Malachi’s blood. No matter what he seems to think, even vampire blood can’t fix something already healed. He’d have to rebreak my knee, and even then I doubt there’s enough structure left to ensure it’d heal properly the second time. No, he’s simply acting the way all vampires do naturally—with casual cruelty.
My neck prickles and I speak without turning around. “I thought you weren’t going to sneak up on me anymore.”
“It’s not my fault your dhampir senses aren’t acute enough to hear me coming, even when I’m not trying to mask my steps.”
I turn to find Malachi’s changed again. He’s wearing a pair of loose pants, and he’s foregone a shirt again. He’s even tied back his long hair. Obviously, he’s here to work out. I clear my throat. “Don’t let me interrupt you. I was just checking out the house.” I hesitate. “Um, thank you for the food. And for cleaning the kitchen so I can actually make it without worrying about giving myself some kind of lead poisoning or some shit from whatever old paint is on the walls.”
He moves a few steps into the room. “Would you like to spar, little dhampir?”
5
I blink. He wants to spar? “What?”
“It would be useful to see your skill level.”
His words are logical, but that doesn’t mean they make sense. “Why do you care what my skill level is? I’m only here for two reasons.” Maybe that’s what his offer is about. A reminder of my place here. I’m not foolish enough to nourish the false hope he’s different from every single vampire I’ve ever known. The odds of that are astronomically not in my favor.
“Indulge me.” The steel in his tone informs me this is less a suggestion than a command.
I could try to push back, but it’d just end in us sparring while I attempt to escape the room. The thought of him getting his hands on me again has my traitorous heartbeat kicking up a notch. “You just want to bite me again.”
