Chapter 1 #2
Is he for real? No pretence, straight for the payoff. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. “I’m not helping you escape, if that’s what you think. I’m not stupid.”
He sneers at me. I expected this. As if Roman would ever do anything out of the kindness of his heart. I lean close to him. “Rumour has it, Marcel was taken to a different club. What if I promise to get your brother a message?”
Marcel was working with Roman to overthrow our family and steal the crown. He was sentenced the same as Roman. But he was recently moved to another club.
Roman looks me up and down with so much disdain, it peels away every layer of confidence I had.
I grit my teeth and stand firm. “Don’t fucking look at me like that, do you want in or not?”
He presses his lips together and then gestures for me to lean close. I don’t trust him one bit. Not one fucking bit.
But this is what I came for. So, what choice do I have? I hate that that is becoming a mantra.
I do as he asks and move to hover just above his neck.
Anyone glancing our way would think I was feeding.
His skin smells salty and stale, that deep unwashed dirt that only skin can hold.
But it’s the energy he gives off that makes my skin bristle.
Round goosebumps rise up my flesh. Morrigan was right, this man is evil to his core. It literally billows off him.
I stay there, my heart pounding as he makes me wait and wait. And wait.
Right as I’m about to step back he says, “You know the thing about you, Pen? For all your beauty and allure…”
“Get to the point.”
He laughs, a nasty sneer of a thing that crawls down my spine like the clack, clack, clack of scorpion pincers.
He jerks suddenly. There’s a clank and a crunch as metal buckles. I yelp; he catches me. He must have ripped his arms from the cuffs. He grips the back of my head and pulls me in for a kiss.
His breath is worse than his skin, full of decaying, unwashed teeth. I scream and gag as he presses his filthy mouth against mine.
I claw at his face, slapping and scratching at him. But he holds me tight.
I bite down on his lip. He growls, shoves me back so hard I crash to the floor.
A gang of vampires piles on top of him. Pinning him.
But he fights back, smashing faces and breaking jaws.
Blood, bone and tissue splatter the floor and furniture.
Finally, they drain him until he passes out or hopefully fucking dies.
They drag his blood-covered body away. None of the vampires look too healthy, but I guess they’ll heal a lot faster than him.
If he even does. He looks grey. Gods, I hope he’s fucking dead.
I brush myself down, my outfit is squiffy, my hair a mangled mess of tufts and pins half fallen out.
A shadow looms above me. I peer up; it’s a woman holding her hand out. I take it and she hauls me up, only for me to realise too late how cool her skin is.
Cool enough to be a vampire.
She cocks her head at me, chin-length hair cut into a suave set of waves.
Her features are chiselled, her body muscled.
What stops me breathing though, are her eyes.
So potent, so dark and the strangest mix of chaos and curiosity.
She’s stunning. I’ve only been with one woman, but gods, if she were a magician, I’d genuinely consider getting on my knees for her.
The way she stares at me sets a fire blazing in my stomach.
“What are you?” she says.
“Pardon?”
“You smell like a vampire but look like a human. So, stranger, I’ll ask you again… what are you and how do you know Roman?”
She takes a step closer; I step back. She moves forward, again and again until my back hits the wall. Then, she places her palms either side of my head, pinning me in place.
Fuck. The fire in my gut turns to adrenaline, butterflies dancing, and I’m not sure why. Fear or fury or a furnace of desire?
My heart pounds so loud it throbs in my ears. Fuck. Fuck. This is exactly why I shouldn’t have come here. I know what she is. What she could do to me.
Gods… what could she do to me? A vision of the vampire and human fucking as I entered flashes through my head. I need to get a fucking grip. She could just as easily snap my neck.
“I… I shouldn’t be here,” I stutter out, my fingers and toes tingling with the urge to run. I don’t know who she is, but I do know she’s a predator.
“Is that so? Secrets to hide, hmm?” Her voice is silky. My heart rate slows, steadies until I feel like I have control again. Did she do that? Is she doing that thing? Fuck. What was it Quinn said. Compulsion?
“What if I do? I heard this club keeps everyone’s secrets…” I say, my confidence returning. I’m a fucking princess, after all; I’m not going to be dictated to by some vampire trash.
“Quite the attitude for a stranger who shouldn’t be here and currently has no way of escaping…”
“There’s always a way,” I say and draw my knee up and ram it into her stomach.
She lurches forward, her palms slipping off the wall enough for me to dash out of her grip.
I make it five feet.
Five.
Before she yanks me by the wrist and spins me, pinning my back to her chest. She sinks into the shadows, taking me with her.
Shit.
“I’m going to ask you again, who the fuck are you?” she breathes into my ear.
Adrenaline spikes through me. I should be running, screaming. But I’m frozen in place, desperate to know if I’ll end up like that human girl: fucked, bitten, orgasming for days. It’s so wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong. And yet my pussy clamps down, my underwear sticking to me.
The vampire leans in, inhaling.
What the hell? She’s literally sniffing me. Oh gods, I hope she can’t smell my arousal.
The only option is hardball. “Do you get off on this? Pinning women in place and forcing them to do whatever you want?”
“What if I do? This club is designed to dish out your darkest desires, Stranger. So tell me… have you ever fucked a vampire?”
She smelt my arousal, then. Shit. My heart rate quickens. She must be able to sense the thudding beat because I hear the smile in her sneer. “I’ll take that as a no, but you want to.”
I lunge forward and shove back, smashing her into the wall hard enough she releases me.
Spinning around, I face her, knowing that if I try and run, she will just catch me again.
I have to think my way out of this. She’s masc.
I can tell from the air of confidence filling her gaze and jutting her jaw.
The muscles bulging under her shirt are a giveaway too. The question is, is she also a dom?
“I see you’re the kind of brat that likes to fight back…” she says.
Yes. Then. And I’d bet money on the fact she likes to tame a brat. This is my play. “What’s your name?” I ask.
“Dahlia. What about you, Princess?”
I smile. She has no idea. “I think I’m rather fond of Princess.”
She cocks her eyebrow at me. “Hilarious. The cute blonde brat fancies herself a real-life princess, hey?”
“Something like that.” I shrug.
She folds her arms and looks me up and down. “I could just torture your secrets out of you. Spank you until you tell me exactly what you’re doing… Or maybe I’m in the mood for real torture, it is one of my kinks…”
She watches me swallow that information. I force myself not to tremble, to breathe slow and deep. She likes a brat. And I am the brattiest of them all. I just need to be me.
I take too long to respond. She grabs me by the arms and pins me against the wall.
We’re face to face. Oh gods. The last vestiges of very sensible and needed fear vanish.
She’s hot, she’s masc and from the way she’s pinning me against the wall, she’s clearly a dom.
I should absolutely not be fantasising about her fucking me like this.
What I need to do is locate a heavy dose of panic. Maybe throw out a few first-class screams. Running for my life is probably sensible.
And yet I do absolutely none of those.
What in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with me? But the more I think about how much danger I’m in, the wetter I’m getting.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous, and I can tell you’re just a human. Albeit a very nice smelling one.”
She leans so close our breath mingles, my skin heats, goosebumps rise, but this time not from disgust, but lust. I should be ashamed of myself. Their species killed thousands of ours. My eyes fall to her lips. All I want is to place mine on hers.
Fuck.
She grabs each of my wrists in turn and grips them above my head. Then she pushes her knee between my legs and drives her thigh up to meet my cunt.
“Oh. Oh fuck,” I say as heat pools between my legs. “I… we…”
Can she feel how wet I am through my underwear and pants?
Her eyes glimmer, hooded desire making them heavy and my stomach flutter.
I need to get out of here. This was a bad idea.
I failed to get what I came for, and Roman is no longer an option.
I need to cut my losses and run before anyone discovers who I really am.
“Dahlia… let me go, please…?”
The words snap her out of her daze. She stares at me, her eyes drooping, something passing through them. What was it? Regret? Sadness? It’s gone before I can place it.
I’m sensing a pattern with myself—one filled with things that seem like a good idea. But I’m never coming back here. Aside from Octavia at the wedding, I doubt I’ll ever meet another vampire. I’m probably about to die, they’ll just make another spare heir anyway.
Oh, what the hell…
I slide my hand to her jaw and pull her in.
Our lips meet, a frisson of electricity passing between us, like fireworks and lightning.
Like a summer breeze and fresh snowfall.
She smells like bergamot and rich spices and winter winds.
Her hands paw at my waist, my back, she holds me like I’m treasure and diamonds.
Gods, I’ve never been kissed like this. She deepens the embrace, her strong hands pulling me closer, harder. Holding me.
No.
It’s more than that. It’s like she owns me, as if I’ve only ever been hers.
Fuck.
If this is what kissing a vampire is like, no fucking wonder that woman looked like she’d died and gone to heaven. My body melts against Dahlia. I sink into her, giving myself over to her, silently pleading with her to take more of me, own more of me.
My fingers find their way into her raven waves and tug.
She groans against me, so I pull harder.
I want more. I need to drown in this. Her mouth opens, and I slide my tongue against hers.
Everywhere we touch ignites with heat and electricity.
Molten want courses like energy between us.
Her fingers glide over my breasts, my nipples harden in response.
I don’t want this to stop. But it has to. This was supposed to be my distraction. I kissed her to make her let me go.
I need to get out.
Roman screwed me.
I don’t know what I expected but I should have known better.
This was all a mistake.
I pull away. Suck her bottom lip between my teeth and let it pop back as I release her.
“Fuck.” She says it like a growl rumbling between her ribs.
“Yeah. That was…” I say but struggle to find the right words.
“It really was,” she says.
I give her one final glance. “I have to go.”
“Don’t,” she says, and for the barest of moments, I swear I see a flash of softness in her gaze.
“I can’t stay,” I say, my stomach knotting, this time, with regret. I wish I could, but what use would it be telling her?
“Will you come back?”
I shake my head.
Whatever softness I saw vanishes as I slip into the darkness of the club and away, back to New Imperium with one word, one taste, one feeling burnt into my memory: Dahlia.