Chapter Three
Meg
I shake slightly as the gnome—and now I’m pretty damn
sure it really is a gnome—removes the collar from around my neck.
I know the first thing I should do is punch her in the face
and run as fast as I can, but…I find myself frozen in place.
I might be dead. I might be dead, and this is some weird
waystation on my way to heaven or hell.
Or as Shakespeare said, there might be more to heaven and
earth.
“Is that…?” I find it difficult to form words. The question
I’m going to ask is ridiculous. It’s stupid. It might be real. “Are those men
vampires?”
If they’re vampires, Meg, then they’re not men, dummy.
My subconscious is picking up that this is real, and I’ve
wasted a shit ton of time.
She’s annoyed. I’m super sorry I don’t know the proper
grammar I should use when describing mythical creatures.
The last few hours of my life have caused me to realize this
isn’t a dream and I might be in trouble.
Beck said he wanted a wife. I’m not sure what the vampires
want, but it might be a nice dinner, and I’m definitely on the menu.
Beck really does seem like my best bet.
I don’t know the area. I have zero idea what’s outside this
tent, so running seems like a bad idea. I need to figure this place out before
I run.
Or you could hang out with Beck and see what happens. I
mean it’s not like you have a lot going back in Texas.
Inner me is also slightly insane.
Cara laughs gently. Her light blonde hair shakes. She looks
at her husband, the gnome named Reeve, and says something in that other
language before turning back to me. “Aye, mistress, they are vampires, but
don’t worry none. We won’t let them bite you. They only want to see what they
will be fighting for.”
She puts a hand on her hip and says something to her
husband.
Reeve rolls his eyes. “Fine then, woman. Meg, my wife wants
to unchain you. We’re taking you to the arena where the tournament will occur.
You can watch one of two ways. I can keep you bound and naked like that, or I
can give you a robe and let you sit with us in the stands.”
“I think I’ll take the robe.” I’m not going to let this
chance get by. If I can get a lay of the land, then running might be back on
the table. The gnomes are small. One well-placed kick and I might be on my way.
I don’t think about the fact that Cara’s been kind to me.
That’s the Stockholm Syndrome talking.
Reeve considers me as though he can hear my thoughts. “If
you run, you should know that one of them vampires will be on you before you
can think to shout. They’ll play by the rules as long as you do, but the minute
you run, they’ll chase you down. It’ll be a free for all.”
Gosh I hope they can’t hear my damn thoughts.
His words make me think about fangs and the looks of hunger
in the vampires’ eyes. It sends a shiver through me, and I’m back to wondering
where Beck is. “I’ll stay close.”
At least I’ll be out of the chains and clothed. What if Beck
changed his mind? He hasn’t been back to see me, and it’s been hours. No one
else was allowed to touch me. When they tried, the gnomes explained that if
they did not follow protocol, they wouldn’t be allowed to fight. I didn’t asked
why Beck was special. I didn’t have to.
According to the other women, Beck was a king.
Reeve allows his wife to unchain me.
“Where am I?” If this is my reality for the time being, I
need to figure a few things out.
I’m obviously in denial. Something took me and my brain
hasn’t found a way to deal with it.
It’s time to start dealing.
“You truly don’t know?” Cara asks, a look of sympathy on her
face.
I shake my head. For the first time, I try to look at these
beings as something other than figments of my imagination. If this is real and
I’m going to save myself, I need them. If this is really happening, I have to
get away. I can’t run if I don’t know where I am.
I’m beginning to accept that strange creature who kidnapped
me brought me somewhere…else.
Cara brings over a gossamer robe and hands it to me. I pull
it over my head, the soft fabric caressing my skin. Though it’s practically
sheer, it feels warm against me.
The dress-like robe cuts a deep V at the neck, showing off
my breasts. I try to tug it closed, but it doesn’t work. Cara moves in behind
me and expertly ties it in the back. The garment molds to my curves. It’s
utterly unlike the shapeless clothes I prefer to wear at home. The ones I’ve
told myself help me blend in so no one notices I’m not enough. Those boring
black pants and shapeless shirts didn’t stopped my ex-husband, Michael, from
always telling me I need to lose twenty pounds and bleach my hair blonde.
Blonde is lovely but not for me. My auburn hair is the only thing I truly like
about my looks. I’ve tried to lose the weight. It didn’t work.
Beck didn’t seem to mind my weight.
“Bloody hell. You’re gorgeous, sweetheart. Seriously, you
are one fucking beautiful consort. Look at that glow.” The words came from
behind where I stand, peppering out in quick order. “Are those tits real? No
one has real tits where I come from. Fucking plastic surgeons screw up
everything. Pretty soon we’ll all have plastic dicks, and what fun will that
be? Let me tell you something, babe, the day they come for my cock and fangs is
the day I leave my home plane forever.”
The man is one slick-looking vampire. Perfectly white fangs
peek from behind sensual lips, so there’s no denying what he is. He’s a
vampire.
And I’m not home anymore.
The truth washes over me but I manage to stay some sort of
calm. This is the most ridiculous situation I could ever be in. Dateline
didn’t prepare me for this shit.
I’m apparently going to be forced to be some kind of
bondmate or consort to a man I don’t even know.
So why do I want to see him again? Why am I not fighting my
way out?
“Oh, no, Mr. Dellacourt,” Reeve says with a shake of his red
cap. “The tourney is about to begin. Her viewing is over. If you wish to buy an
entry, there is still time. However, her viewing is done.”
The vampire named Dellacourt shakes his head. Strangely, the
vampires are the closest thing to a normal human I’ve seen so far, if one
forgives the fangs. This particular vampire’s skin is light, almost alabaster,
and his green eyes are like emeralds. Like his fellow vampires, he’s dressed in
an elegant approximation of a business suit. They seem to wear somber, deeply
colored jackets. The blacks and grays and navys seem almost luminous.
Dellacourt wears black from head to toe. A sleekly cut jacket reaches his knees
and a matching vest completes the look. The only color he has on is a ruby red
shirt that peeks out from under the vest. His trousers and loafers are
midnight-colored as well. Unlike Beck, the gnomes, and the other men who came
to “view” me, the vampires seem to have left the feudal era behind.
“Yes,” Dellacourt says slowly. “We need to talk about that.
What would you say if I told you I could triple your business on this sweet
thing?”
Reeve sighs, and I decide that he and Dellacourt probably
have a long history, and not a lot of it good. “I would say that the day I
start listening to a slick vampire salesman is the day my wife should carve me
up with a piece of wrought iron.”
Cara nods somberly. “I have it all ready, too. The minute he
goes soft, I’m taking him out.”
Cara holds out her small hand, and I take it. There are a
million and one reasons I’m not fighting my way out, the chief being I have no
idea how to fight. Back home I carry a little canister of pepper spray with me.
Not that it did me a ton of good since I’d been overwhelmed by the… What had
they called it? Planeswalker. Someone had mentioned the Planeswalkers brought
the gnomes goods to sell.
I have no idea how to get home. It’s time for me to play
along until I can figure a way out.
If I even want one.
The little gnome starts to lead me out of the tent into the
sunlight. It’s warm on my skin and the daylight seems to caress me. I cannot
deny that it is beautiful here.
Dellacourt doesn’t miss a beat.
“Seriously, I can make this a very profitable venture for
you, Reeve.” Dellacourt follows us into the sunshine, and I hear a small
whirring sound. I watch in shock as sunglasses form around the vampire’s eyes.
Dellacourt grins down at me. “Nanites, babe. Those are tiny computers, to the
less technologically advanced. All of our clothes and accessories have nanite
tech in them. They are intensely useful little fuckers. Of course, every now
and then they band together and try to take over the world. Hey, what’s
progress without the occasional apocalypse?” He turns to Reeve again. “Back to
my point. I only need a few hours. I’ll give you a half million in gold, and
all you have to do is delay this tournament until, say, eight o’clock.”
“That ain’t happening.” Reeve continues walking.
I study my surroundings as Cara leads me into what looks
like a small marketplace. There are stalls with vendors hawking their wares in
odd languages. I’ve calmed down from initial rage and terror. Now I can
concentrate on my surroundings.
The gnome mentioned that I don’t speak Gaelic. I’m almost
certain this is the language spoken all around me now. It makes sense, in a
weird way. The creatures around me appear to be straight out of Northern
European lore. Gaelic was an ancient language of both Ireland and Scotland. I
took courses in lore in college, and I’ve been thinking about what Beck could
be. It’s obvious he doesn’t think of himself as human. After watching the way
the gnomes treat him, I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s a faery of some
kind. From the looks of him, he’s more than likely a sidhe. They’re
the human-looking faeries and the ruling class. If my lore is correct, he will
belong to one of two tribes, the Seelie and the Unseelie. The Seelie are the
blessed, shining ones, while the Unseelie hold all the monsters the Fae have to
offer. I would bet he’s a Seelie, though I haven’t gotten a look at his ears.
According to some lore, they should be slightly pointed. Of course, not all