Chapter Fourteen – Evelynn
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EVELYNN
He sleeps next to me while I lie there, staring blindly into the darkness. My thoughts refuse to stop long enough to let me sleep.
He never answered my questions. He keeps avoiding them. So I’m left alone, trying to figure everything out myself.
The blood. Their eyes. The fact that I haven’t seen a single window, apart from that tiny one in the cell. I haven’t seen him—or any of them—eat, apart from that smoothie. They didn’t take Hex to the hospital.
Or they did and just haven’t said.
Or maybe he died?
No. That can’t be it.
When Lucian lifted one of the Crawley brothers into the air like he was nothing, his arm didn’t even tremble. My last boyfriend used to lift weights, and when he lifted me once, I felt his arms shake.
Maybe he’s on roids.
It would explain the mood swings.
Nope. That’s not it.
I exhale a long breath.
It’s either this is some kind of cult, and I’m the offering—the sacrifice to whatever god they worship—or they’re vampires.
I snort out a laugh at that thought, loud in the silence, then quickly slap a hand over my mouth and freeze. When he doesn’t move, I relax again.
Vampires. Seriously. I’ve watched too much Twilight.
I pause.
They don’t eat. The ‘smoothies’. The blood. The strength. The way they looked at me like I was a meal.
HOLY FUCK.
I gasp out loud and scramble out of the bed. My feet tangle, and I trip, landing on the floor with a loud thud.
The lamp clicks on. Lucian sits up in bed, his beautiful body on display as the sheet pools at his waist.
Beautiful vampire body, I remind myself.
My eyes go wide as I shuffle back, struggling to get to my feet. He watches me calmly.
“You’ve figured it out,” he rasps.
I manage to stand, pushing my back to the wall as panic rises. “How? What? This can’t be real,” I pant.
He moves from the bed in a blur until he’s standing right in front of me. My eyes somehow go even wider.
“Holy shit!” I squeak.
He lifts a hand. “Petal, you need to calm down—”
“Don’t touch me!” I scream.
His hand freezes mid-air.
“Please don’t kill me,” I whimper.
He slowly lowers his hand. “I’m not going to kill you,” he says firmly.
“Oh God. This can’t be real,” I ramble as panic fully takes over my body.
I can’t breathe. I look past Lucian and see the rest of them entering the room.
“Oh God, you’re all going to drain my blood, aren’t you?
Oh God. I can’t breathe,” I gasp, pressing my palm to my chest as I struggle to draw a full breath.
“You told her,” Silas seethes.
“No. She figured it out,” Lucian answers, stepping back.
I spin away from him, looking for a window, another door, any way out. I’m trapped. Trapped with vampires.
“Someone help me, please!” I scream.
“I think she’s taking the news well,” Cain mutters sarcastically.
“I’m going to die. I don’t want to die, not yet.
There is so much I’ve not experienced,” I wheeze, still trying and failing to breathe properly.
The room starts to spin. “I’ve never been on a plane, I’ve never owned a puppy, I’ve never tried drugs…
Not that I want to, but it would’ve been nice to have the choice. ”
I stagger along the wall, my hands trailing over the stone as I search for some hidden escape.
“What’s she doing now?” I hear Clutch ask.
“Think she’s looking for a secret door,” Echo answers.
“I haven’t climbed a mountain. I’ve never even tried that Dubai chocolate everyone keeps going on about,” I wail, hearing my heart pounding in my ears too loud and too fast.
I try to breathe slower, deeper, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to keep the air in my lungs.
The room tilts. I collapse to the floor as everything spins one last time. My vision tunnels, darkness creeping in from the edges.
They all crowd around me, looming shapes looking down.
This is it. Now they feast.
“I’ve never even had sex,” I gasp one last time.
And then—nothing.
“She has to die. It’s the law,” a deep voice argues.
“She is not dying,” Lucian counters. “She is here for a reason. I feel it.”
“The nun did say…” another voice adds.
My head feels like it’s underwater. Slowly, I blink my eyes open to find myself back in Lucian’s bed. They’re all standing around me, watching, waiting. My gaze drifts over them.
“Hex,” I breathe in surprise.
He gives me a subtle nod and a small wave of his hand.
His hand.
The hand that was missing.
I rub my eyes and look again.
Yep. Both hands are there.
I jerk upright. “How?” I gasp. “It was gone.”
“Hex, I told you to keep it hidden until we calmed her down. You hear that? She’s going to pass out again,” Lucian chastises.
“Hear what?” I ask, clutching the sheet to my chest, looking between them like a skittish animal ready to bolt.
“Your erratic heart,” he answers.
“You can hear my heart?” I whisper.
“Drink this. It will calm you a little,” Hex says, handing me a bottle.
I reach out, my hand shaking as I take it. I sniff.
Whiskey.
Good whiskey.
I press the bottle to my lips and knock back as much as I can manage, stopping only when the burn becomes too much. I cough and splutter, my eyes watering.
“Thanks. I needed that,” I croak. “What will you do to me?” I ask, dread crawling over my skin.
“Us? Nothing. But I’m sure Prez has a list of things.” Clutch smirks.
Lucian glares at him.
“You’re not going to kill me?” I press, looking at each of them.
“No,” they all answer, except Silas.
Lucian notices and turns his attention to him.
Silas holds my gaze for a long moment. “No,” he says at last, reluctantly.
That’s… reassuring.
“You’re really vampires? Like, this isn’t some cosplay thing, and you’re just in character? Like you’re really big Blade or Twilight fans?” I rush out, then take another sip of whiskey.
Warm fuzziness spreads through me like a comforting blanket.
No one answers.
Lucian bares his teeth, exposing his fangs, his eyes glowing.
I swallow. “Okay. Not cosplayers,” I mumble, clearing my throat.
“You said you can hear my heart. What else is there?” I ask.
Silas lets out an exasperated sigh. “Look, if this is going to turn into a Q&A, I’m going to save you some time. We hear everything: your heart, your pulse, your breath. When you ‘crept’ down the hall while we were at the table, we all knew you were there. Prez just told us to ignore you,” he says.
My cheeks burn.
“We also have an acute sense of smell,” he adds.
I blink. “Like blood?”
Silas fights a smirk. “Yeah, like blood. Or like when you were with Prez earlier.”
I frown. “What do you me— Oh my God!” I gasp, horrified.
They all chuckle as I slap my hands over my face.
“I don’t think I want to know anymore,” I mumble behind my fingers, peeking through them.
“It’s fine. When the Fang Bangers come, the scent is overpowering,” Diesel shrugs.
I drop my hands, confused. “Fang Bangers?”
“Club whores,” Marko answers. “It’s what we call them. We allow them in on the first of every month.”
I shift uncomfortably, my mind traitorously offering up images of Lucian with one of them. Or more than one.
I subtly shake my head. I have no right to think of him as mine. I’m his captive, for crying out loud.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Do you… kill them after you’ve—” I pause, flustered. “You know.” I gesture vaguely.
“After we’ve fucked them?” Silas asks, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“No. They don’t know what we are. They just want to be biker whores,” Hex says with a shrug.
“I restrict it. I don’t want them seeing too much,” Lucian adds, his gaze never leaving me the entire time.
“I think that’s it… for now,” I say softly, clutching the whiskey bottle like it’s a lifeline.
“Leave us,” Lucian orders.
They vanish within a second, blurring out of the room. The sudden speed of it takes me by surprise.
Lucian remains where he is, standing at the foot of the bed, his amber eyes fixed on me.
“I’m tired,” I lie.
I’m not tired. I still have a million questions I want to ask, but I’m overwhelmed, and knowing that they’re not only an outlaw biker gang but also bloodthirsty vampires who could rip my throat out in a split second has me treading very, very carefully.
He moves around to his side of the bed and climbs in. I don’t move. He gently takes the whiskey bottle from my hand and sets it on the nightstand.
I want to protest and drink more, maybe enough to pass out. At least then the questions ricocheting around my skull would shut up.
“Lie down,” he orders. His voice is gentle, but there’s an unmistakable edge of authority to it.
I do as I’m told.
Is this the moment he sucks my blood and makes me his? Is that how it works? Maybe I just laid down because he has mind control. I’ve seen movies. They have that.
Maybe I’m attracted to him because he told me to be.
He pulls me to him. I let him, but my body stays rigid with uncertainty, unsure what he wants or what’s going to happen.
I end up with my cheek resting against his chest. His fingers thread through my hair, combing in a slow, soothing motion.
“I will never hurt you. You have nothing to fear with me,” he says, the rumble of his deep voice vibrating through his chest.
I relax a little. Not fully. Not yet.
“Sleep. I will answer any more questions you have tomorrow.”
Sleep. Is he insane?
Maybe if I had more of that whiskey.
I blink, my muscles loosening against my will. My eyelids start to feel heavy, and my head becomes a little woozy.
“Goddamn it, you drugged me again, didn’t you?” I whisper.
“Just something to help you sleep,” he replies.
I try to force my eyes to stay open, but it’s futile.