Chapter 7
C assia
“Holy shit,” I muttered into my pillow.
What a fucking nightmare.
Tugging the comforter down, it felt funny.
Almost like a velour whereas the new blanket Bryan and I recently bought was one thousand thread count.
My fingers slid back and forth along the edge, and the sensation remained.
The softness was incredible and reminded me of a chinchilla.
I’d had one as a pet when I was in grammar school and I used to press it against my face, it was so soft.
A sinking feeling filled my soul as my heart raced. I was scared to open my eyes or lift my head from the pillow for fear of what I would see.
The last thing I knew, Bryan and his whores were scattered across my living room like they got hit head-on by a dump truck.
And there was a duo of vicious strangers responsible for the carnage.
Two oddly attractive men. An arrogant blond and a spooky guy who wore makeup like he worked at a goth Wal-Mart.
No matter what had happened, I was going to have to face it, so I rolled over.
The bed I was lying on was huge—bigger than any I’d ever seen, length or widthwise. It was kind of like a box, with walls and curtains hanging around the large openings. The headboard was deeply carved and peaked with a solid wall behind it.
Across from the foot of the bed were large windows with diamond-shaped panes. They were so far away it seemed like wherever I was, the space was larger than my entire apartment.
I scooted down and peeked out the side, sucking in a breath when I saw the rest of the room. It was like I’d been transported to a gothic fantasy world. Everything was either black, or rich, dark stained wood.
And everything was molded and carved. From the walls and furniture to the ceiling and trim. Crystal and brass, mirrors, and artwork. Oh my God .
I was out of bed before I felt myself moving. There was a spectacular oil painting in a thick, gilded frame directly across from me that pulled me from the enormous mattress.
The sky was similar to the one I’d drawn with colored pencils recently, in warm ochre shades. The mountains were stylized just the way I’d been going for but hadn’t really been able to quite capture. My stomach twisted, looking at it. It was so beautiful and I just wasn’t talented enough.
Tearing my gaze away, I walked down to the windows. The view made me feel like I was in the painting. Was I dreaming right now? I glanced at the floor. My toes touched hardwood, but my heels were on what appeared to be a Persian rug.
When I looked up again, the scene hadn’t changed. If I was asleep, it probably would have been. The sky was a ruby red when I looked out, with a smattering of twinkling stars.
It shouldn’t have been possible, the deep, rich crimson and I couldn’t stop staring. The sun was shining, too. I could see hints of green trees and shrubs, yet the view overhead looked like a pool of blood. It was both beautiful and horrifying.
I turned away, intent on exploring something else, when I came to an abrupt stop. Peeking over my shoulder, I glanced again at the strange sight. There was something about it, something that tickled the back of my mind. It had to do with one of my own drawings.
And I didn’t want to think about it.
Swallowing, I ran back to the bed, yanking the covers over my head. This couldn’t be right. Maybe if I went back to sleep, I’d be home and I could just yell at Bryan and his dirty socks in the morning and then leave his ass. Everything would be normal.
Sleep never came. I don’t know how long I laid there, but my brilliant idea wasn’t working. I sat down again on the bed, trying to think, and then noticed my clothes weren’t my own.
The well-fitted blouse and black leggings didn’t come from my closet. I had as many pairs of the comfy pants as any other girl, but the material was weird. No—not weird. Different. They were abnormally soft. Kind of like the blanket.
Pulling the waistband away, I peeked down to make sure I was wearing my own underwear.
I was.
Small comfort seeing as I still didn’t know what was going on.
The temptation to pull drawers open was too much to bear, and I found myself rifling through them. Going by the contents, I had to assume this was a man’s room. A very rich man.
The fabrics and styles of the garments were otherworldly with their craftsmanship, and I was pretty sure the jewelry contained real diamonds and rubies, though they were glossier than anything I’d ever seen. The shine almost hurt my eyes.
If I was dreaming, this all felt really real. Everything was solid. Things worked as they should. Or as they shouldn’t because my bra strap kept falling. I even bumped my toe against the edge of the bed, and it hurt and left a little red mark.
I was thirsty. These normal hazards indicated I was wide awake.
Moving on to the desk, I pulled the little draw string of the lamp and stared at the wood grain of its surface for a moment.
I could smell the wood polish, a crisp but creamy scent.
A couple of scrolls sat near where the piece of furniture met the wall, with a stack of books that had titles I didn’t recognize.
Beneath them were cubbies that were empty other than a few pens, a stamper, and a small jar.
The drawer contained a notepad, more pens, and a stiletto. I slammed the drawer shut and backed away.
The weapon’s blade was clear crystal or some other see-through stone and the handle, an etched gold. It reminded me of Lukas’s nails. I’d never been one for hallucinating or imagining things, and at the age of thirty, I’d had plenty of time to develop maladaptive responses. I know what I saw.
He’d used those fingernails to murder my boyfriend and those two women. And I was pretty sure the other guy helped, Kiam. Had the police found them yet? Were they looking for me? I had no idea how much time had gone by.
As scary as it was, I knew I had to leave the room. I’d been avoiding whatever may be on the other side of the wall, but the time had come to act.
With a glance at the window and foreign sky, I walked over to the door and gripped the handle. It felt like something was tugging on it from the other side, like a rubber band. After yanking on it several times, I got it open and found myself in a hallway.
Out here, the floor was black marble, and the hall was no less fancy than the room. Double-lit sconces lined the walls, casting a warm amber glow on my feet. A crystal chandelier hung in the distance in what appeared to be an open space.
I held onto the doorframe as I peeked out and twisted to look the other way. Several feet away from me, a man stood. He was well over six feet tall, with tan skin and extremely long black hair. He stopped walking and stared at me, canting his head to the side.
His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed while he gazed at me curiously. A sense of dread washed through me, and I took a step backward, intending to close myself back in the bedroom but suddenly, he stood right in front of me.
He’d moved so fast it didn’t make sense. He was in one spot for one second and breathing down my neck the next.
His hand went to the door, pulling it from my grasp and I screamed, “Get away from me!”
“Stand down, Kalix,” I heard a familiar voice.
Lukas was suddenly in my space as well, and then Kiam appeared. He gestured to Kalix, and they walked away, leaving me the two of us alone.
“You killed Bryan,” I accused. As if he didn’t know. My question was stupid, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“You can’t say it was a loss.” He moved forward, forcing me back into the room. “How did you leave the room?”
Walking backwards as he towered over me, I replied, “I want to go home. Well, not home. Just not here. Why am I here?”
He was making me nervous. Not only because of what I witnessed, but he loomed over me, staring down his nose, eyes narrowed. I knew all too well what he was capable of. He was a monster that looked like an angel. Deceptive packaging.
“I chose you. You are not to leave this room.” He waved his hand and the door slammed shut, vibrating the walls so hard I ducked for a moment. He pursed his lips. “If you go out there, you will die.”
You have got to be kidding me .
“You can’t tell me where I can and can’t go. I don’t even know you.”
I had been minutes away from freedom and restarting my life when this asshole barged in and slaughtered everything.
My dreams, my life, my ex. Now, I probably didn’t even have furniture left.
The building supervisor likely thought I was on the run, committing a major crime and then fleeing the scene and going into hiding.
“You know how bad you screwed me over? I have nothing now. There might still be time. I need to get back to my apartment.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You are much better off, here.”
“You just said I have to stay in this room or I’ll die.” I crossed my arms. “That’s not an improvement.”
His hand shot out and I was lifted off the ground. “You are to stay in this room. Do not disobey me.”
I fell to my knees when he let me go, and I sat there rubbing my neck. Hot tears threatened to spill from beneath my eyelids, and I swallowed them down. He was staring at me again, I could feel it, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of looking back.
“Where’s my bag?” In my panic, I’d forgotten all about it.
“In the closet.”
I’d never bothered to open those doors and gone straight for the wider, double one I figured was an exit.
Lukas watched me as I pulled myself up off the floor, his gaze intense enough to burn a hole through my chest. It felt like he was noticing every little thing and it made me self-conscious.
He was studying me. Flicking a glance at him, I rolled my eyes. His expression changed, giving me the barest hint of a smirk. Other than that, he didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. The lack of even a minor twitch of an arm was deeply disturbing. What the hell was he?
“What are you?” My walk to the closet was unsteady but I made it.
The door opened smoothly, and a light turned on, revealing extensive shelving, and a ton of men’s clothing. My duffle bag was slotted like it’d always been there. Taking it with me, I turned around and Lukas was right in my face.
“Excuse me, please.” He didn’t budge.
My entire view was of his pectoral muscles and this time, his chest did move. Glancing up, I was greeted by the hollows of his cheeks, a very faint five o'clock shadow, and then the bright green of his irises.
His response was to cup my cheek and rub his thumb on my skin. I sucked in a breath while my face heated, the sensation running down to my belly.
What was this guy doing? The first time I met him, he offered to kill people for me. In the coffee shop, a week before then, I was pretty sure he sniffed my hair. Weird, but New York City was full of those types.
I’d done nothing to earn his attention other than to just exist.
I grabbed his hand, but he snatched it with his other. The emerald shade of his eyes darkened slightly as he peered down where I’d touched him. Then he looked at me.
“Why did you bring me here?” My voice was quiet in the stillness of the closet.
“Because you’re mine.”
“I’m not, though.”
I pushed him until his grip loosened, and he slowly let go of me, his large hand smoothing down to my wrist before it fell away. “You are and you will be.”
Hoisting the bag over my shoulder, I asked, “How do I get home?”
He rubbed his chin and turned, running his fingers through his shiny hair. Sliding past him, I headed straight for the door.
Again, the door fought me.
It would open about an inch and then shut. My bag kept getting in the way, but I knew from earlier, it wasn’t that. Then, the door stopped moving at all.
Lukas grabbed my shoulder. “Sit,” he ordered, thrusting an arm towards a chair covered in thick brocade.
Ignoring him, I grabbed the latch again, but he swooped in, picking me up and depositing me in the chair. My duffle was left in the middle of the room. He flicked a hand at me when I went to stand and to my horror, I couldn’t move.
“What did you do?” My breaths grew shallow, and my pulse raced, giving me an instant headache. I had no control over my limbs. I could twitch my fingers and my toes, move my neck and my eyes, but trying to do anything else was useless.
The man bent down in front of me, his hair sliding against my face as he leaned in. He inhaled deeply, his eyes shuttering, before he placed a hand on my chest right over my heart.
It was like someone injected me with warm water; the sensation was that instantly soothing. It felt like I’d just received a deep tissue massage. “What did you do?” No one could do these things.
He lifted his head and his hand, switching his grip to my neck before trailing his lips along the other side. Had I been able to move, my body would have puddled on the floor. The way he caressed me was so erotic I didn’t know what to do or think. Bryan had never touched me this way.
I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He was weaving some kind of magic over me. Between the door, his nails, his supernatural speed, and now all this, I knew it wasn’t natural.
“Get off of me.” My voice sounded hoarse.
“Cassia, you’re not going home. You are going to do as I say.” Lukas stood. “If I need to put you in a cage, I will. I protect what is mine, even if it pains them.”
He wasn’t joking. “How many women have you done this to?”
“You.”
I still couldn’t move and my anger spiked. “You mean to tell me you’ve never taken women against their will before?”
“Not for a situation similar to yours.” He disappeared into the closet.
The energy in the room had shifted, as if the air itself was discontented. It could have just been me, but I was pretty sure it was more than that.
“Why do you keep saying I belong to you. Why me?”
“I chose you.” He walked back into the room. “I wanted you. I will see to it you have suitable clothing. The items in your bag are a disgrace.”
Exhausted, my fight began to drain away. For now. There was no way I wouldn’t be back at it after I got my strength back. “You can’t just take people.”
“I’m a born vampire. This is my Realm. I can have whatever I want.”
My vision narrowed to a pinprick.