11. CHAPTER 11
I want to kill him. He won’t stop. Not fidgeting, throwing that damn bottle, humming, talking in circles to himself, singing, or asking random questions. I’ve completely lost track of time. How long has she been gone? Maybe I should just bang my head against this wall for the smallest reprieve.
“It’s utterly boring here. Wouldn’t you prefer to talk rather than sit there pulling at your hair in silence?” His once-velvety accent now grates on my last nerve like salt in an open wound.
I stare at his gigantic form lying on the concrete, his long legs shooting up the glass in some kind of yoga pose, and my teeth grind together.
Before I can answer, his legs windshield wiper to the floor, and he moves to a cross-legged position in a heartbeat. He’s so swift. Is Teagan that fast, too?
His head turns towards the hallway. “They’re coming back.”
That one sentence evaporates a large portion of the tension in my body. I look towards the hall but can’t see or hear anything. A full minute later, the door in the back scrapes open.
My breath freezes in my lungs as their steps approach. They round the corner and my heart crashes to my stomach when I see them carrying her. Is she faking being unconscious? I latch onto the small sparkle of hope as my gaze locks on her face, looking for any movement of a wink. But there’s nothing.
Jeff drops her feet to pull out the taser and approaches the door. “Umm, Bret?”
“What?” Bret snaps while fumbling to support all of Teagan’s dead weight. He looks like the weakest one. I’ll need to rush him if we attempt our plan.
“He’s untied.” There’s a slight quiver in Jeff’s voice and one side of Tilly’s mouth twitches up in a smirk.
“Fuck.” He drops her onto the floor to approach the door. And she still doesn’t make a move of her own. “You two, backs against the far wall if you don’t want to be electrocuted.”
I Immediately walk to the back right corner, but Tilly takes his sweet time standing and lazily moving to the left. It’s the slowest he’s moved this entire time.
“Give me the taser. I’m going to unlock the door as you pull her inside,” Bret demands.
She isn’t stirring at all. This isn’t good. Jeff hands it over, and the door clicks open as he bends down to lift Teagan’s shoulders. He drags her through the doorway. My nostrils flare and hands clench into fists at the small line of blood trailing from where they laid her down. Jeff lowers her shoulders to the ground right inside and backs out, keeping his eyes on us. Well, more on Tilly.
Bret tosses in another blood-filled water bottle that rolls across the floor to Tilly’s feet. “We’ll be back for you soon. Make sure that bottle is consumed completely first. I promise it’s more comfortable than being tasered unconscious. Unless you want to experience that again so soon.”
Tilly just tilts his head, almost serpent like, in response.
The door closes, and the locks click into place.
Teagan. I don’t even wait for them to be out of the hall; I rush over and drop to my knees by her side. I take her pulse then examine her various wounds.
“A doctor. I should’ve known,” Tilly comments from across the cell.
I remain focused on Teagan, but the sound of liquid glugging down the drain reaches me. I check the severity of the lacerations and burns across her torso and thighs. They aren’t bad compared to what she had the other day, but one hasn’t fully closed yet. I apply pressure to the wound while making sure I’m not missing anything more serious.
I hate how skimpily dressed she is in front of Tilly. Which is stupid. I have no claim on her. I mean, hell, she’s attractive. But the feeding thing wasn’t because of attraction. It was needed, pure and simple. She needed my blood and probably has no interest in me outside of that.
“She okay?”
I look over as Tilly flops down on the thin mat.
Glancing back at her emotionless face, I brush my knuckles across her high cheekbone, and her eyelashes flutter. “Yeah. I think she’s waking.”
She blinks slowly and clears her throat. We lock eyes, and I realize my hand is still pressed to her cheek. She gives a faint smile.
I reluctantly drop my hand and scoot backwards. “Ohh. Sorry. I was just checking your condition.” Heat rushes to my face, and I nervously push my frames back up my nose.
“Yeah. I know.” She pushes herself up, groaning, and leans against the wall. Her eyes land on Tilly and narrow.
“Oh, yeah. That’s Tilly. He’s like you.”
Tilly turns his head toward her and elaborately salutes. “He wouldn’t give me your name.”
She pauses for only a moment, and emotions rapidly cross her features. Worry, guilt, and finally, resignation. “I’m Teagan.”
“Pleasure.” He goes back to staring at the ceiling.
I couldn’t care less about him right now. What the hell happened to her, and what are we going to do now? I fight my urge to touch her again, my shoulders rounding towards my ears. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. I don’t remember much of it, but I’m sore right now.” She looks down at her hands, chin trembling. “I’m sorry our plan didn’t work.”
“Hey.” I lightly grasp her chin and tilt it up so she’s looking me in the eyes. “It’s not your fault. We’ll figure something else out.”
Tilly’s head whips towards us, and Teagan stiffens. “I could assist with said escape plan. Assuming neither of you wishes to remain here.”
Teagan licks her lips, and when she talks again, her voice is steadier. “No, we want out. I just haven’t been strong enough.”
He nods. “Is that why you didn’t try the glamour before they took you for testing?”
“Partly. I’ve also just never been great at it. I can’t make the memories hold for more than a few minutes.”
He nods again.
“Well, I’m fairly certain I can get us all out.”
Her head cocks to the side. “Are you going to glamour them before they take you?”
“No, I rather liked your original plan and them taking me ‘unconscious.’” He air quotes. “Plus, you’ll need time to feed again.”
She looks at me with a slack jaw and pinched brows.
I mutely shake my head in response. I wouldn’t have told him that. How could he know?
He chuckles to himself and rolls his eyes. “I’ll give it roughly ten minutes from when I leave this prison then I’ll glamour them. Best-case scenario, I can snag their keys and return to you both. Worst-case scenario, they return me here like they did you.”
My chin lifts and my hands close tightly at my sides. “How do we know you’ll return for us?” Irritation sharpens my tone.
“You don’t.” Each word is clipped.
“We don’t have a choice. We’re stuck here, regardless,” Teagan says with a heavy sigh. “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Tilly whispers, “They’re bringing a cart this time,” and chuckles quietly to himself. He sits and drops his head, deepening his breathing. His enormous form takes up the whole cot plus three extra feet.
Teagan’s eyebrows furrow, and she places her ear against the glass. Almost a minute passes before I hear the squeaking wheels of a cart.
Bret and Jeff push an old rickety wheelbarrow right up to the solid glass door. Bret unlatches the lock while pointing a taser at us. “Up against the back wall.”
Jeff steps into the cell with large ropes draped over his shoulder and a second taser gun pointed in our direction. He bends down to secure Tilly’s wrists and ankles.
Bret pushes the cart to the center of the room, giving us a death stare. “If either of you move a muscle, I’ll drop him and fill your veins with volts faster than you can blink.”
Bret places the taser loosely in his front pocket and nods towards Tilly’s upper half. Jeff moves to lift it while Bret hugs and raises his lower. Tilly’s head sways about with the movements. They take three steps towards the cart then swing his colossal form up.
Tilly’s weight pushes the wheelbarrow, and it rolls away from them.
“Fuck. The cart!” Bret snaps at Jeff.
Bret drops Tilly’s feet and runs to catch the cart. He pushes it right up to Jeff. “You’re going to have to drop him in while I hold it.”
Jeff sighs and pulls up with all his might and dumps Tilly’s upper body, back first, into the wheelbarrow. Tilly remains motionless, dead weight the entire time. Panting, they head back out of the cell, and Bret pushes the cart towards the hall.
Jeff places a raw steak and another sandwich within the window. “Sorry about the accommodations. We’re working on moving him, and hopefully, we can release you both soon.”
He sounds sympathetic, but we all know they won’t release us. Neither of us gives him a response, and he turns to follow Bret.
“Fucking hell.” She rubs her face. “He’s tied up now. Hopefully, he can still glamour them.”
“He didn’t have any issue with the ropes earlier. Sliced through them like butter. His fangs are larger than yours.”
She glances over, stunned. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. Not at all. He’s a large, scary man, but more annoying than intimidating. He did nothing to me other than irritate the crap out of me.”
“Ha.” A small smile eases some of the stress from her face. “Why’s he so irritating?”
“He just doesn’t stop. Not talking, humming, moving, fidgeting. But he didn’t touch me.”
Her shoulders drop with relief. “Well, that’s good, at least. Do you trust him?”
“Not yet. But in all fairness, I probably trust you more than I should.” I jest with a smirk.
She winces. “I want you to be able to trust me.” Her longing gaze captures my full attention. “Maybe I didn’t at first, but that was only because I was trying to keep my distance. Since we’ve been here,” she jerkily gestures to our cell, “I’ve been nothing but honest.” The small tremble in her voice leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
I step closer, cupping her face between my palms and tilting her face up to mine. “I know. It was mostly a joke.” I brush her smooth cheek with my thumb. “I do trust you. But him…” I look off to where they took Tilly, slowly shaking my head.
“Yeah, there’s something off about him, for sure.” She presses her face into my hand more, and my eyes find hers again.
My thumbs trail over her jawline and brush down the sides of her neck, letting them fall to my side. “You should feed before they come back.” I can’t control my heart rate at the thought.
Her nostrils flare, and her eyes shift from their beautiful grey with specks of gold to a darker color, the gold turning pink throughout. “Are you sure?” Her fangs slightly slur her barely audible voice.
I step even closer, erasing any space between us. Our bodies connect, and I slide my arms around her waist. Her lips part, the tips of fangs showing, and I lower my mouth to hers. I move so slowly, giving her time to push me away or say no. When she does neither but sucks in a breath of air, I bring my lips right to hers. Is this really happening? I’ve dreamed about this more nights than I’m happy to admit, but is it actually happening? With our mouths barely touching, I whisper back, “Positive.”
Her fingers roam up my back, snapping my restraint, and I sink into her with a deepening kiss.
She melts against me, her fingers digging into my bare back like she can’t get close enough. Our tongues tease and dance together, feeling each other, learning each other. Her faint caramel taste pulls a groan deep from my core. My tongue brushes a fang and my arousal spikes tenfold. It should scare me, right? Not make me hard as steel.
I grip her hips, exploring her curves. She grinds her lush body against mine and my hands roam lower, squeezing her barely covered rear. She sniffs the air without breaking our kiss, her deepening moan captured by my mouth.
We don’t have time for this, let alone all the other things I want to do to her. Dammit! We need to get the hell out of here first. Then we can finish this later. And there will be a later. I need more time to explore her body.
Reluctantly, and against all my desires, I pull back.
We’re both breathless. I cup her flushed face. “I want to continue this so badly. But we only have so much time, and we have to get out of here if the chance presents itself. And you need to be at your strongest.”
She nods, her swollen lips glistening in the light. “You’re right. I need to feed. Should I do your wrist or neck this time?”
“Well, we don’t know if his plan will work. Do we want to risk them seeing the marks if we’re stuck here?”
“No. The thigh is the best hidden spot, given our current clothing situation.”
“I agree. Though, not going to lie, I’m loving being able to see you walk around in just these.” I slide my thumb along the lacy strap of her underwear. Clenching my jaw, I force myself to take a step away before I can’t. I turn and remove my torn scrub pants. “Do you have a leg preference?” I face her and slide down the glass to the floor. I don’t bother shielding myself this time. She was grinding against me not a minute ago, so what’s the point?
“Um. Maybe the other one, to allow the first bruise to heal more?”
“You’re the expert.” I stretch the other leg out straight ahead of me. If someone had said last week that I would be trapped in a cage and excited about a person drinking my blood, I would’ve called them insane. And yet, here I am.
I tilt my head back, looking at the ceiling and away from her firm ass, tightening my hands into fists so I don’t touch her like I’m dying to do. My body’s warm and my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. One kiss, and I’m a hormonal teen?
Fuck, he’s so sexy. I just want to run my fingers up his thick, defined thighs… Trying to fight the urge, I bite my bottom lip and let out a sharp hiss when my fangs nick my skin.
“Are you okay?” His chin drops and his eyes zero in on the dribble of blood trickling down from my lip. “Oh.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, just leans forward and swipes the trail clean with his thumb. I freeze instantly. It feels like time has slowed, the surrealism engulfing me. My breath grows faster as he lifts his thumb to his mouth. His tongue leisurely slips out to lick my blood off, and I’m mesmerized. Tingles run south. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“All better.” he says with a smirk.
With a shake of my head, I refocus on his leg and lower myself above his artery. I’m swarmed by his increasing woodsy mint scent. Not an ounce of lemon present this time. Resting my sharpened canines against his flesh, I press in slowly, his skin surrendering to my invasion. Slipping in until the warm ambrosia coats my tongue, fills my mouth, and glides down my throat. A rush of warmth, strength, desire, and power follows, cascading from my head to my toes, warming my core as it passes. I moan, and my bite deepens.
A groan escapes him, and his head falls back to the glass with a soft thud. I lick the wound, tasting the saltiness of his skin then take a deeper pull of his blood. His stiff member twitches in response. His hand half rises, but he lets it fall down again. Another thick pull, and his hand and hardness twitch in unison.
I’m taking longer than I need to, but I love the physical reactions he’s having to me. I want to bite him everywhere to see what elicits the best responses. What hurts him? What tickles? What excites him? And what sparks his lust so much he can’t stand it? I want to find every spot.
My hand moves up his bare thigh until I reach the cotton of his boxer briefs. I hesitate for only a second, our eyes locking, then his lips part and I move my hand higher; his unblinking, hooded eyes watch me grip his firm cock through the thin material. My hand moves in slow strokes up and down. I take even deeper pulls and lose myself to his taste.
I want to ride him while feasting from his neck. I want him to fill me while nourishing me. “Mmm.” I can’t get enough. He groans and twitches within my grasp. The warming pleasure pulses through my entire system, tingling and soaking my center. I want so much more.
The kiss left me damp and wanting, but this…this sensation. I need more of him. Need him filling me in every way. I’m desperate for it all. I’ve never felt this ravenous. This is more than my injuries, more than our situation. It’s his blood. It’s intoxicating, and I’m drenched with desire.
I could straddle him, taking him into me in more than one way. From his scent, he wouldn’t stop me. In under a minute, I could have him uncovered. My panties pulled to the side, lowering myself onto his thick length, and sinking into his neck. But I can’t.
My chest tightens. If I don’t want to hinder him, this can’t continue. I’ve already taken too much.
My body tenses, and somehow, I slow my drinking. My hand slips free, but my bite lingers. The urge to keep my fangs embedded is too strong. Maybe I can take just a tiny bit more. Hmph. No. I can’t.
A heaviness fills my stomach, and my brows pinch together. With a deep sigh, I retract my fangs and lick the wound closed. I suck the area to create the hickey then sit back. I shouldn’t be embarrassed—the sweetness of his desire’s strong and I don’t sense any bitterness of regret—but I can’t look him in the eyes.
His voice is rough with heavy breaths. “Did you get enough?”
“Yes.”
He nods then leans forward, cupping my cheeks between his hands and pulling me forward. It’s the briefest kiss. He barely tastes my mouth. But I’ve never been kissed after a feeding. While it doesn’t sound like a huge thing, my emotions are going haywire. The intimacy in such a minor act makes me want things I’ve never even dreamed of wanting. I’ve only ever fed on random people, even the few rare times sex was a part of the equation. Once I got what I needed, I was out of there. This one simple act has made me feel cared for. Protected. Treasured. Important. Desired. Each a foreign concept I can’t fully comprehend, and each coming stronger and faster than the last.
He stands to pull his scrub pants back on, tucking and trying to conceal his hard-on. I remain kneeling, lost in an emotional rollercoaster. This is all so new to me, but I kind of like it. Or maybe I kind of like him?
His voice pulls me back to the present and slows my chaotic thoughts. “How much should we tell him?”
“Considering he’s in the same position, I don’t want to lie to him, but he hasn’t earned my trust either. Maybe err on the side of caution and only tell him what he needs to know when he needs to know it?”
“I’ll follow your lead. Though if he can get us out of here, I’ll trust him a bit more.”
My breathing is more under control, but my heart’s still beating wildly in my chest. “Did you get anything worthwhile from him while I was away?”
“Ha. Hardly.” Wyatt rolls his eyes while running a hand through his disheveled hair. “He seriously talks in circles and answers questions with more questions.”
Who is Tilly, and can we trust him? Butterflies swarm my stomach, which isn’t reassuring at all. And who am I kidding? Can I really allow myself to trust people? Yeah, I’m trying to with Elena and now I guess Wyatt. But how much is too much? How will it be used to hurt me? Am I even capable of fully trusting another?