Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I am sorry, Tru, but there are rules that I have to follow, and this is a vampire issue. By your own admission, you’ve been hiding things from me.
It shouldn’t have got to this stage. How can I do my job as your guardian if you don’t trust me?
” Xander adjusts the sleeves of his jacket.
He’s wearing an immaculate black suit and shirt. He looks sexy as hell.
And he catches me staring at him.
Red-faced, I stare at the floor.
Gah, I need to stop doing that. I fidget. I wish my body would stop betraying me. Every time I catch sight of him my brain short circuits, and… I want to jump him. Climb him like a tree. It’s mortifying as it’s pretty obvious how he feels about me… the child.
“What happens today is on you. You should have told me sooner that you weren’t feeling well.”
I scrunch my face. What does he mean by what happens today is on me?
Bloody hell, that doesn’t sound good.
Xander’s heavy hand lands on the back of my neck as he guides me down the hall to the portal. Why has he got to be so handsy? I attempt to wiggle away.
Him touching me is not helping my short-circuiting brain. Where does he think I’m gonna go? He squeezes my neck in a warning, and I take the hint and stop wiggling.
“I don’t want to go see the vampires,” I whine as I drag my feet. Undeterred, Xander uses his grip on my neck to push me forward. Steady there, angel. God, if he’s not careful, he will be squishing my nose against a door.
This is my fault. I thought I was being sneaky. It was Story’s idea to empty the bottles of blood into the loo when everyone dismissed my concerns. They wouldn’t listen, so I lied. I pretended I was drinking the vile stuff.
I don’t know how Xander found out I wasn’t, but obviously, he did.
Hence this fun trip.
I guess no amount of makeup can cover my deathly pale skin and the purple bags underneath my eyes. Plus the horrendous bruises on my arms.
So yeah, I told Xander the truth… I can lie by omission, but I can’t lie to that man’s face—bloody angel mojo—and his response? He goes and immediately dobs me in to the vampire council. Nice one, Tru. I should have kept my gob shut.
I should never have trusted the tattletale angel.
Of course the sensible vampire Atticus is unavailable. Even though he’s mysterious and a little bit of an unknown, I’d rather deal with that guy than Lord Gilbert, aka the fake posh prick.
I don’t feel very sociable, and I should be at work, not playing at vampire diplomacy. I don’t know what the angel thinks is going to happen. It’s not like I’m gonna be enamoured by Lord Luther Gilbert and start chugging down blood like it’s going out of fashion.
We should be really going to the doctor if Xander is so worried about my health.
We stand in front of a normal-looking door with a fancy rune keypad. The portal. Portals are a worldwide gateway system that takes you instantly to other places and sometimes other worlds. If you know the code to where you are going, you enter it and just walk through the door.
They’re expensive pieces of kit, and I’ve never met anyone who’s owned one personally. Xander has one in his house. He’s such a show-off.
Xander doesn’t bother to give me an answer and stoically inputs the gateway code. Together we step through the magical door.
The power of the gateway tickles the hairs on my arms, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.
“Ha, Lord Gilbert hasn’t got his own portal,” I say with glee, instantly forgetting that I’ve been bullied into this visit. We’ve stepped into an alleyway.
It must rile up the vampire something proper to have his visitors pop out of a communal alley door—a spotless alley, but still.
I giggle.
Xander looks down at me with a soft smile. “Nice, huh?”
“It must drive the fake posh prick bonkers.”
“Yes.” He laughs with me. His eyes are perfect: honey flecked with gold, sparkling with fire, mirth, and intelligence. His strong jaw is shadowed perfectly by the light… My lips part.
And he catches me staring at him again.
Hastily, I avert my eyes. Oh, look at that… I recognise the area. It’s a relief to know we’re not in another city or, heaven forbid, in another world.
There’s a bakery up the street that competes with our café. Their chocolate cake is to die for. I wonder if Xander will let me grab a few slices once we have dealt with this.
I giggle again when we arrive at a squat, grotty-looking building, and I see the sign Vampire’s Kiss plastered all over the building.
What an original name. I clap my hands. A vampire that owns a nightclub, how predictable.
I wonder if Xander sees this place as a competition to Night-Shift.
From the look of the outside, I bet he doesn’t.
“We’re meeting him here?”
“This is where he lives.”
Oh. So no fancy estate for Lord Gilbert. He tumbles down even further in my estimation. Not that he had far to fall. Not that I think money makes a person. No, it’s their character. The man is a bully. But with all his pomp and attitude, you think he’d somehow be able to back all that up.
I snort when it registers that he’s dressed his vampire guards—standing lazily outside the club as if they’re waiting for a bus—in cheap red uniforms.
He’s aiming, and spectacularly failing, at the impression of guard duty at Buckingham Palace. Yeah, Lord Luther Gilbert is all fur coat and no knickers.
“Lord Gilbert is expecting us,” Xander addresses a guard. The guy nods and shuffles away as he speaks into his headset.
The other vampires stare menacingly at us.
Which gets my back up straightaway. How rude.
I dance from foot to foot. Xander’s hand touches the back of my neck again, and the gentle pressure stills my movement and makes me shiver.
What’s with all the touching? I roll my shoulder and step to the side, knocking his hand away.
“Will you follow me,” a creepy-looking butler guard says as he flings the door open. We follow him into the club.
You’d think the vampire lord would invite us into his home, which I presume is somewhere in this building, but no. We stand waiting for him to dazzle us with his presence in the empty club. Next to the bar.
Xander silently stands to attention, his hands tucked behind his back and his legs spread as if he’s in the military. I don’t blame him for standing like that. It means he doesn’t have to touch anything. This place is as grotty on the inside as it is out.
I frown down at my boots and lift my toes… Ew, the floor is sticky. Every time I move my feet the soles of my boots squeak. Much to my amusement, I find myself composing a little squeaky tune.
Xander clears his throat.
Lord Gilbert glides into the room. He nods at his man, and like a well-trained puppet, the butler guard leaves. “The fewer people who know about you, the better,” he says, running his hands down his out-of-place fancy grey suit. “Okay, Angel, you can leave her with me. Wait outside.”
What? I look at Xander with pleading eyes. I try to silently tell him, “Don’t leave me with the posh twat.” What the hell am I doing here? I barely refrain from grabbing Xander’s arm as he nods at the vampire and walks away.
Xander leaves. He leaves me alone with this strange vampire.
Thanks a lot, guardian, I mentally grumble.
I slump onto a nearby stool as Lord Gilbert steps behind the bar and pulls out a glass bottle from the fridge and gives it a shake. The liquid sloshes inside, and I wrinkle my nose with distaste.
“I’m a busy man, and I haven’t got time for these childish games.
They have informed me that you’ve not been drinking.
We’ve made many exceptions due to your nature, and I won’t force you to drink from the vein, but you must drink.
Your refusal is a black mark on your character and offensive to our kind.
You’re not trying. If you don’t drink this blood while I watch, I am going to force it down your neck.
” He undoes the metal lid, the top clicks, and the tamper seal pops.
Ah, now it all makes sense, why I’m here. I’m not feeling very well, and my brain has mushed a little. Who better than a vampire to encourage me to eat?
Lord Gilbert slams the bottle down onto the bar, and a droplet of blood hits my hand.
I stare at it as it spreads bright red across my skin.
I lift my eyes and meet his determined glare. Is he serious right now? Do people not listen to a word I say?
“Was I not clear when I told the council blood makes me poorly?” I snatch up a surprisingly clean cloth from the bar and vigorously rub my hand. The rancid smell of the blood is making me feel sick.
I chuck the cloth away and rub my forehead with frustration. “You wouldn’t force me,” I scoff incredulously.
He wouldn’t force me… Would he? I wiggle on the stool and push myself back. The legs scrape against the floor. Huh. It’s a miracle the chair moved at all what with all the gunk on the floor.
I need to get as far away from the bottle as I can. It’s like somebody waving a packet of peanuts at someone with a nut allergy and shouting, “Just eat one. What will be the harm?” I’m not kidding when I say blood does not agree with me.
The man’s an idiot.
“Drink the blood, girl,” he growls. He leans forward and nudges the bottle closer to me.
“I’m a vegetarian, and blood makes me sick.” I lean forward and push the bottle back.
“You’re what?” Lord Gilbert scoffs, dismissively. “You’re a vampire. A disgusting disgrace of one, but even I can admit you have pure blood running through your veins.”
“I’m also a unicorn shifter,” I say. I try to keep my tone reasonable. I wouldn’t want to be accused of being a child. I clench my fists. Yeah, Xander might have given me a complex with that one.
For a millisecond, the vampire’s eyes widen with surprise. Huh, my being a unicorn is news to him. Good to know.
I glance down at the bottle of blood, and my nostrils flare. The smell wafting from it is putrid. If he thinks this is him helping me—I shake my head—if he thinks this is a good idea, trying to bully me into drinking that rancid crap, it’s not.
I’m done with this shit. I relinquish my manners. “You’re being a dick,” I say as I stand, abandoning the stool. His body tenses at my words, and he flashes his fangs. Eek, I really shouldn’t have said that to the scary vampire, but fuck him. He started it. I cringe and take a step back.
Look at that. I am pissing him off.
It’s kind of good ’cause I’m pissed off too.
“You’re not listening.” I throw my hands in the air and take another small step back. “I’m not doing this on purpose to myself, arsehole. Do you think I want to be ill?” He eyes my arm, which is almost entirely covered in bruises. I tug my left sleeve down. “Blood makes me sick.”
His eyes flicker red, and his voice lowers dangerously.
“This is something you’ve been avoiding, and it’s a stipulation of the vampires.
The only thing stopping us from taking you at the moment is the other councils and your age.
As soon as you’re eighteen, it’s game on.
That angel protector of yours can’t take on all the vampires.
All the shifters. Between us, we will rip him to shreds. ”
Crikey. When he puts it like that… I suddenly can’t help worrying about Xander’s health. I didn’t realise the situation was so precarious. God, how selfish I have been. While I’ve been moaning about him being a crap guardian, he’s been dealing with all this shit on my behalf.
“You feel comfortable being protected by that angel? Think about what your life will be like when we force feed you in a cell. Breed you, as that’s the only way we can take advantage of your blood. As you, girl, are already a lost cause.”
Breed me. Fucking hell.
I laugh to stop myself from throwing up. My entire body shivers with disgust. I guess that explains why I’m still alive. I bet he wasn’t supposed to share that little titbit. I’ll file it away to freak about later.
Shit, I knew things being quiet were a bad sign.
“You’re hurting the bloodline by not taking blood. This stops today. You need blood, girl. The vampire side of you is starving, and you are no use to us dead.”
My vampire side is starving.
“Sit. Down,” he snarls with another flash of his fangs.
I don’t.
I take another small step away, and my eyes flick to the door. Suddenly I’m airborne. My back thuds against the bar.
Shit.
“Get the fuck off me.”
Instead of letting me go, he slams me again against the bar like I am a rag doll.
Ouch.
He drags me closer and forces me between his legs. My heart pounds in my ears, and inside my head, dozens of countermoves flash to the forefront of my mind. I have enough skill, enough training… but my body. Crap, I am so, so weak.
In one hand, Luther—I guess I can drop the lord title—grips my neck, and with his other hand, he grabs the blood from the counter. He shoves the cold bottle at me, and it smacks against my teeth. I squeak in alarm and quickly clamp my lips closed.
“Drink,” he growls.
I shake my head, and I try to pull away, but his big hand against my neck holds me firmly. With all my strength, I jerk my head to the side, and the bottle hits my cheek.
I risk opening my mouth. “Get the fuck off me. You are hurting me.” His hand continues to grip my neck, and his thumb digs into my jaw. I dig my nails into his wrist.
“Drink the life-saving blood. This aversion you have is all in your head.”
“Fuck off,” I say, my tone vicious.
Luther growls, and his cheek brushes against mine. “You say that like a child who’s refusing to eat her vegetables.”
Gah, child. I thrash about, or at least I attempt to; the vampire has got me so tightly against him I can’t move an inch. “You don’t understand. You’re making a mistake.”
“You’ll be useless if you’re dead.”
“I WILL get sicker if you do,” I yell.
I realise I’ve made a mistake as soon as the words leave my mouth. A finger slips between my lips, quickly followed by a thumb. The vampire prises my teeth apart.
Wide-eyed, I watch as the bottle of blood tips.
Blood fills my mouth.