Off Limits
The windowless cellar stripped away all sense of time. I woke, startled in the darkness. The sound of Dommik mumbling in his sleep anchored me in place and time.
Raider ambush. Injured vampire. Abandoned basement.
I rubbed my temples, exhaling in disbelief at my situation.
Maybe it was the muted orange glow cast from the dying oil lamp, but Dommik didn’t seem as pale. That had to be a good sign. A sign he was healing. Relief rippled through me, cut short by what it meant if he was well enough to travel. Where we were traveling to.
I shifted in my seat, wincing as I prodded at my own injury before laying back against the stone. The aches and tears and itchy beginnings of my own healing made me claustrophobic in my own body.
I wondered what it was like, the immortal perk of healing so quickly.
It all seemed so obvious now. Dommik’s demeanor and presence.
His mannerisms and attitude. The way he moved with such patience and natural confidence.
Living in the same body for hundreds of years must do that to a person.
I realized then, I didn’t know how old he was.
Would all the vampires at the Hive be like him? I’d imagined bloodthirsty monsters. Pallid, gaunt, more animalistic than human. Maybe I just hadn’t seen him in his element yet.
My throat tightened and my chest constricted as I imagined a life amongst the vicious creatures of my nightmares. Dungeons and fangs and…
Fresh air. That will help.
I found it, wafting freely through the broken windows of the main floor of the manor. Darkness had descended while we’d slept in the cellar below. Starlight refracted off the shards of glass. A whole day gone. We both must have needed the rest.
I tiptoed from room to moon-lit room, leaving footprints in the dust and crunching the occasional leaf under the pads of my feet.
In the dining room, I found a scene frozen in time.
Instead of people sitting down to a grand meal, the elements dined here.
Foliage covered the table, chairs, and place settings.
Cutlery, plates, and glasses were broken and out of place.
Like whatever happened here interrupted the owners while entertaining.
I brushed my fingers across the long wooden table, careful to avoid the broken glass.
My curiosity caught on a face staring down at me.
A portrait of a young man dressed in fine clothing.
His hands held his jacket like he was proud of the garment; behind him, in matching clothes, stood an older man. The boy’s father, presumably.
I stepped closer, squinting in the dark, trying to place the face. The men shared intense, stormy eyes. Almost like a younger…
“Oh, dear. What’s this?” I jumped, alerted by a serpentine voice from the doorway.
“Is it ‘er?” Heavy-leaded footsteps approached behind the lean, shadowy figure.
“Seems so, Rolf.” The elongated hiss traced a claw down my spine, leaving chills in its wake.
The pair of hunters could not have been more at odds with each other. One pointed and slender, like a strong wind could blow over his frame. The other, Rolf, was bald, broad as an ox, and sounded like he’d taken a hoof or two to the head as a child.
An eerie smile crept across the smaller male’s narrow chin. Gleaming white teeth had been filed to points, and among them, two prominent fangs. His ghoulish face matched the white moonlight glow. And his eyes, like black obsidian, were made darker from their nest in his hollow facial features.
“You’ll be coming with us now, miss.” Pieces of his inky hair fell away from his ponytail as he spoke, framing his gaunt cheekbones and unnatural dark lips.
These were the vampires of my nightmares. The dining table met my legs as I skittered back. My hand landed on cutlery I hoped was a knife. “No, thank you. My husband will be returning momentarily. I invite you to take your leave.”
“Our leave.” The ghoul’s chuckle rasped. “No, we won’t be doing that. We came a long way to find you. We won’t be leaving without you in tow.”
They were looking for me? Were they with Dommik?
“Who are y—”
“She’s bleedin’.” The giant’s eyes widened and sharp fangs descended. Large, dumb, and deadly. A horrific combination. “Vaspar, would the regent punish us if we had a taste? Just a little one?” Rolf’s thick tongue licked his lips at the idea.
“You will not feed on me,” I snarled, curling my fingers around the cutlery.
Please be a knife. Please be a knife.
“Shhh.” The ghoul approached with hands splayed wide, blocking my escape.
He kept hold of my gaze but spoke to his companion, “She’s right.
We cannot have the pleasure of biting her.
The regent would see us ended for that. But, there’s another way to have a taste… and see what all the fuss is about.”
A wind whipped dust and leaves into an airbound frenzy. I wheezed as my back slammed against the dining table. The sharp edges of a broken dish needled into my shoulder blades.
I couldn’t track the swift movements of the immortals. Icy, consuming fear shot through my veins as Rolf pinned my hands above my head, holding my writhing body against the table.
Rolf chuckled as he saw what I clutched in my palm. “What are ya holdin’ a spoon ‘fer?”
“Release me—who do you think you are—let me go you—” Threats and curses rattled from my lungs to no avail.
While Rolf had been a bolt, Vaspar moved with predatory, calculated precision. The serpentine male approached the table and deliberately situated himself near my feet. Slowly, he lifted his pointer finger to his thin lips. “Shhh. Hush now.”
I kicked and squirmed against the broad henchmen, all the while wondering if Dommik could hear what was unfolding above him. Could he hear them demanding my compliance? Could he hear me fighting? Was he so injured he couldn’t do anything to stop this? Or maybe he could, but didn’t care…
Rolf’s fingertips dug into my arms and Vaspar swatted my kicks like I was a measly housefly. The beige fabric of my dress rose above my ankles.
Vaspar looked at me, eyes full of malice, and waved a blade. “If you don’t hold still, I might miss.”
My chest heaved and a ringing erupted between my ears. My insides screamed at me.
No one is coming to save you! Fight harder! Get away! He’s going to kill you!
I bucked wildly against my captor with every piece of primal survival I could muster. A crack erupted from under my heel as it collided with bone.
“Fucking BITCH!” he hissed, clutching his broken nose.
Rolf’s jovial laughter filled the dark room. “She got you!”
Pure evil glared up at me. “You’re going to regret that.” Rough hands secured my legs and his head disappeared from sight.
Burning heat radiated from my inner thigh as a blade sliced through my skin and his tongue dove between the exposed layers.
His ravenous appendage worked the length of my wound and brought searing pain as it stretched the gash wider.
My panic surged, the ringing steadily grew louder, and my hope dwindled as he lapped at the fresh flowing life source.
Through the panic and the pain, I tried calling for help but my scream was muffled by Rolf’s meaty hand. “That’s enough of that, sweet’art.”
Vaspar let out a long, savoring hum against my thigh. I couldn’t turn my head beneath Rolf’s grip, yet I recognized the sound of wood scraping against the floor. I strained my eyes to look toward the noise but fear-fueled tears blurred my vision.
I writhed and winced. Please stop, please don’t let me die today.
“How is it? She smells amazing. Is she clean?” Rolf asked eagerly.
Vaspar lifted his head. His devious, depraved stare drank in my fear and twinkled with sickening delight. He used the pad of his thumb to wipe away blood, my blood, from the corner of his upturned grin. “She’s…an absolute delicacy. Succulent enough to drain.”
Drain. My eyes went wide and I fought with every ounce of effort I had. Hate and hopelessness burned as I continued my fruitless struggle against their supernatural strength.
“Yes. Keep fighting. It helps the blood flow faster,” Vaspar hissed as he prepared to dive under my skirt.
Suddenly, Rolf’s hand fell away from my mouth and my wrists were free. Vaspar was staring, mouth agape, eyes focused on something behind me.
I sat upright and turned to Rolf’s headless body crumbling to the floor. The resounding thud shook the room. Freshly drawn blood dripped from a familiar serrated blade.
Dommik looked absolutely murderous.
“Step back, filth.” His words vibrated with rage through his bared teeth, his weapon extended and ready to strike again.
Vaspar lifted his hands in retreat, but it wasn’t Dommik’s blade he fixated on as he backed away, it was me. The unrelenting hunger in his gaze sent tidal waves of nausea through me.
“Reyva.” Dommik’s stern voice called my attention. “Come, are you all right?”
“Yes. I mean. No.” The admission was but a squeak before taking his hand and climbing from the table.
Stormy eyes looked down, taking in the state of me. My undone braid, ripped dress, bruises forming on my arms, and finally, the fresh blood dripping down my arm and leg. His nostrils flared at the sight, his dark eyes becoming darker as he faced my retreating attacker.
“I shouldn’t have—” I began but I lost the words as he pulled me into him. Leather and pine consumed me and his muscled arm wrapped around my shoulders.
“Sh—no. Stop. This is not your fault,” he consoled. There, hidden against his chest, I let silent tears fall.
“Touching,” Vaspar jested.
Dommik moved me behind him, shielding me from the ghostly attacker. “You—defied—strict—orders.” Dommik bit out each word.
“Apologies, ” Vaspar sneered and rolled his onyx eyes. “She’s wounded and we were…overcome—”
“She was wounded. But that—” he gestured to my bleeding thigh “–-that’s new. That was your doing.”
I dared to steal a glance and regretted it instantly.