Chapter Two
The smell of briny air wafted past my nose, pulling me from another dream. In this one, I’d been sipping red wine and enjoying a juicy steak by candlelight from inside a dark room that smelled like rust. Weird.
Still, I didn’t want to wake up. Mostly because my heavy limbs ached for more sleep, and the pounding in my head made it nearly impossible to open my eyes. Was part of the transformation feeling like I had a hangover to end all hangovers, including hangover’s cousin, the wine flu?
My eyelids peeled open like an old fruit roll stuck to its plastic.
The artificially lit room was filled with white wicker furniture, khaki linen fabrics, and obscenely large bouquets of fresh tropical flowers.
Stark stood at the foot of the large bed, unpacking my things from a suitcase.
He wore faded jeans and a white, button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattooed arms.
“Where are we?” I muttered, rubbing my throbbing forehead. That was when I noticed someone had put me in a pair of white satin PJs (one of my favorite sets), and my skin smelled like strawberries and cream lotion. Same as the moonshine tasted.
“On the island of El Corazón.”
I’d never heard of it. “What country?”
“Technically mine,” he replied without a blink.
“You own an entire country?” Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. He’d once offered me a billion dollars in gold coins plus my own country in exchange for sex, which I’d turned down. Another long story.
“My island resides in international waters. Very few know of it, though it is mentioned in several mythological mermen tales. No pun intended.” He continued unpacking my things, pulling out my strapless bra and setting it at the foot of the bed on top of the white comforter.
“Of course, such creatures do not exist. Fish men. Ridiculous.” He scoffed.
Was it? Because I was watching a five-hundred-year-old dude, who slurped on vein-juice to survive, organize my clothes by color.
Did I mention that I hadn’t packed any of these items myself?
It meant he’d had someone go to my new apartment near the Rooster, or he’d done it himself.
Hope he didn’t see my toy in the nightstand.
Right above it was my collection of dirty books. Oops.
“So how come no one knows about this place?” I asked.
“Money buys power, and power buys privacy.” He shrugged.
It had to cost a pretty penny to keep an entire island secret.
“So, why are we here?” I vaguely remembered him saying we were going on a sort of pre-honeymoon, but I’d been imagining a log cabin on a mountain lake or a houseboat with jet skis.
Something fun. A secret island, where one needed a boat to leave, was a whole other jar of pickles, me being the pickle. Trapped.
He pulled my little black dress from my suitcase and inspected it front to back. “You will wear this to dinner with your black heels.”
He’d just attempted to move the conversation cheese, and I wasn’t having it. “Why did you bring me here?” I asked again.
He set my dress next to my bra. “I chose this location because you are safe here. Safe to explore your new life as a vampire. There are no humans on the island, and every staff member has been through the same transformation. They are sympathetic to your needs and will ensure you’re made comfortable.
Any request you make will be satisfied, with the exception of leaving.
Other than that,” he spread his arms, “consider this your personal playground.”
Playgrounds were fun, filled with swings, slides, and monkey bars. This sounded more like a pig in an Easter dress. Cute, but only until you lift the ruffles. Pigs were filthy little things.
“Welp,” I swung my feet to the floor, “I appreciate the sentiment, but I want to go home.” Leiper’s Fork was familiar to me, and given what I was going through, I needed to be close to family, even if I couldn’t see them for a few weeks.
“Masie, we just arrived here. You must at least see the island before fleeing.”
“Are you saying I can go if I take a tour and don’t like it?” Because I was perrty dang sure I’d just heard him say that leaving was not on the fun-menu, and I wasn’t on board with that.
He dipped his head. “You are not a prisoner. You are my mate. You have just as much power as I, and that includes coming and going as you please.”
Oh, look. I finally found something Stark sucks at: gaslighting. A little surprising given how his entire existence depended on deceiving humans. No, no, Miss Riding Hood, I’m not staring at your neck. Nom nom.
“Wanna know what I think?” I said. “You’re hoping I choose to stay so you can avoid a confrontation.
In fact, I bet if I walked outside right now, headed for the dock, and tried to put myself on whatever boat you got going on here, there’d be a big strong vampire waitin’ to stop me.
Am I right?” I folded my arms over my chest.
His mouth flapped for a moment. “I would never allow another man to lay his hands on you.”
Oh, so we’re playing dodgeball now? I’d just chucked a big pink bouncy ball his way, and he’d ducked. Stark had avoided answering the real question.
“Am I allowed to leave or not?” I snapped.
“I am merely asking you to consider everything I have said: humans are unsafe around new vampires. The bloodlust will become overwhelming, and you have no reason to doubt me on this.”
So it was in my best interest to be somewhere I couldn’t hurt anyone. Got it. But he should’ve put his plums on the table and discussed coming here with me first.
On the other hand, he probably knew I’d say no, and Stark wasn’t one to ask permission. He was a powerful vampire, accustomed to being obeyed.
Gotta work on that with him. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, and if I really loved him, I’d give him space to figure out this new life together, just like I expected from him.
“Fine.” I got to my feet. “Let’s go check out the island, but if I don’t like it, you’d better come up with an alternate plan that involves getting me closer to home.”
“Your well-being and happiness are all that matter,” he said, his eyes filled with a deep adoration that made my pulse amp up. “But first, you should shower and dress for dinner. I shall return in two hours to show you the island.” He left in a hurry, slamming the door behind him.
That was strange. My suspicion perked up. I might be in love with Stark, but I was still dealing with an ancient creature whose instincts to conceal things went hand in hand with survival.
Ain’t that funny? I kept thinking of him as “a creature” when I was one of them now.
Didn’t really matter if I still felt like good old Masie, I was embarking on a journey that might last thousands of years.
I would get to witness the world change in ways humans only dreamed about or saw in movies—living on Mars, flying cars, an end to cellulite.
And if all went well this next month, I would get to live that long, happy life with the man I loved.
Then why were things feeling so…off?