Page 13

Twelve

HARLOW

“So…how many of you want to be mortal come sunrise?”

Dormer, my captor and a literal king , clenches my wrist again, his finger tracing my scars. The touch is almost tender, which is completely ridiculous, and I wonder if he realizes he’s doing it.

A vampire steps forward to call out a number. He’s one of many, which still, my brain hasn’t processed. My parents hid me from vampires my entire life, and here I am, a buffet for his guests. Even more shocking is the fact I’m not getting attacked by any one of those numbers, thanks to my captor, who’s doubling as my bodyguard. And my pimp, based on the actions unfolding around me.

“A thousand!”

Dollars?

Dormer makes a displeased noise. “That’s all mortality is worth to you? Come now. I know you’ve spent the last three hundred years gambling your way to wealth.”

Three hundred. Okay, so my captor’s older than that . Old enough to have been around when kings and queens were a thing. Although, in some countries, they still are, so that’s not much to go off of.

He casts me a quick smirk, like he knew exactly where my thoughts went.

“Ten thousand!” another one shouts.

Again…dollars?

A few sips of my blood is worth ten thousand dollars ?

And why’d I never think to do this years ago?

My captor hums, the vibration going up my arm, making me shiver. I shouldn’t enjoy the feeling of his touch as much as I do, but when his fangs dragged over my pulse, my thighs pressed together to hide the truth of what I’ll never admit to either of us.

It’s science, that’s all. He already said the feed is pleasurable for these assholes. Surely I, “the prey,” get affected by whatever powers they’re working with? Gram’s books didn’t cover that part, so it’s only a theory.

“Twenty thousand!”

“Thirty!”

“Fifty!”

Dormer brings my wrist back to his nose, inhaling. It’s erotic in a way it shouldn’t be. “Miss Sinclair has never turned a vampire mortal. Her blood, for what it’s worth, is virginal.”

“Eighty!”

Hate to admit it, but he’s good…

“One hundred!” a voice yells, louder than the rest. A vampire pushes from the back of the crowd to the front, hands in fists and eyes tinged red and a bit manic, almost terrifying as they pin me to the spot. “One hundred thousand dollars to end this fucking life now .”

My kidnapper straightens in his seat and releases my wrist. He leans forward, scanning the rest of the crowd. “Would anyone like to beat that?”

The vampire who made the insane bid glares at the room, as though daring anyone to shout a higher number. No one does, and after a moment, my captor nods towards the buyer.

The buyer. The bids. My goodness, is this Stockholm syndrome? Even my thoughts are lining up with the vampire’s.

“After the party, you will be human. Between now and then, get the money transferred to me. Payment first.”

The vampire who won bows before retreating into the crowd, presumably to go follow those orders.

“Is he about to lug in a whole chest of gold coins?”

Dormer glances my way, amusement dancing in his expression. “We’ve adjusted to modern times and keep bank accounts.”

“Did he really just pay one hundred thousand dollars for my blood?”

He reaches for my wrist again, too quick for me to react, and flicks where my skin meets the cuff. There’s no reason for him to be touching me since the bidding is over, yet he does. “Some of us have been vampires for a long time. After so long, most of us have grown our wealth. Unlike humans, we have the benefit of time and a lack of need. Wealth is agreeable, of course, but we don’t use it to buy food, houses, or vehicles like humans do. We don’t engage in normal society, so jobs and education aren't open to us. When you don’t need something, it’s easy to allow time to work in your favour.”

That actually makes sense.

“You underestimate exactly how desired your blood is,” he adds.

Except I know that all too well. I’ve survived the attacks on my house, and the ones who were successful in getting through.

And how my parents’ lives ended as a result.

Pushing the past aside to get through the present, I point out, “Except by you.”

He’s about to respond when a loud shrill comes from the crowd. The entire room falls silent, turning towards the interruption. A vampire storms his way to the front, a finger jabbed in our direction, his braided hair tossed over one shoulder.

“You.” His snarl focuses on Dormer. “You call yourself our king, but then take control of the one thing in existence that can save us from this cursed life by putting a goddamn price tag on it. You are no fucking ruler of ours.”

Dormer smiles at the one who’s interrupted, but it’s a smile full of maliciousness. A smile promising death if the vampire continues. A slow tilt of his lips before he murmurs, “The witch has been available for any of us to kidnap. I’m simply the one with the means to do it.”

I step back a few paces, feeling the sudden urge to get away. A quick peek at the crowd tells me my motions haven’t gone unnoticed.

“Fuck the money!” the vampire shouts. “And fuck you! Hand her over and let us all drain the witch dry.”

I don’t notice if there’s a signal or anything, but suddenly, the vampire is a blur towards me. Instinct has me quickly skittering back, cursing the cuffs that keep me stuck to a short vicinity. Before I’ve fully taken a step, my captor is out of his seat, a shadow coming between me and the attacking vampire. For once, a shadow I welcome.

Everything happens quickly then. Anarchy breaks out and I, the magickless witch who’s chained to a chair, am absolutely fucked . There’s running from the vampire who appeared in my bedroom brave, and then there’s stupidity. This would be stupidity.

Two more break away from the crowd, streaking towards me. My captor throws the first attacker clear across the room, his body thudding against a painting of an ocean. He lands on the ground, the crowd around him dispersing in a loud hush. I doubt that killed him, but my attention is on the next one coming my way.

Dormer zips from one end of the room to the other, cutting off the oncoming attack with a vicious snarl I’ll hear in my nightmares for years to come—if I live that long. Blood splays right before the vampire falls to the ground, dead, his head rolling away from his body.

Oh, Goddess, get me the fuck out of here.

Dormer’s a blur towards the other, cutting off that attack and repeating his own. Another head, another body, and plenty more blood spilling onto the once-white granite floor.

He whirls to face me, a monster in human form. Blood-coated fangs elongated, with more blood coating his chin and even the tips of his hair. He seems so much…bigger. His body takes up more space as he seethes. His eyes, a vibrant red, pin me from across the room, as though daring me to react.

He looks dangerous, yet my stomach clenches in a way that whispers something else. That familiar slither of the shadows glides over my neck but doesn’t linger, as they frequently seem to not when around Dormer. This time, it’s more like a nudge in the direction he—my monster, captor, and protector—stands.

A motion comes from behind him as the first vampire he tossed out of the way gets unsteadily to his feet before sprinting towards Dormer. I open my mouth to warn him because, as messed up as everything is, my captor is my best bet in a room full of war-hungry bloodsuckers. At least to him, I’m valuable and not a meal.

As fast as a sound leaves my throat, Dormer whirls, catching the vampire by his neck in an unyielding grip. He lifts him off the ground, the man’s feet dangling a few inches above.

When Dormer speaks, it’s a deep growl masked by fangs and gore, and with a ferociousness I could never have made up. “You thought you could usurp me? That was your first mistake. Your second was thinking you could touch her.”

“My liege—” His words cut off when my captor’s hand punches inside his chest. I think I shriek, all bravado disappearing when Dormer twists his hand and yanks from his chest a black organ—a heart.

The vampire slumps forward, his pale skin flushing even whiter before the body is dumped unceremoniously on the ground. Keeping the heart in his grip, he turns to the audience.

“Take what happened here as a fucking warning. The Sinclair witch is my captive. Mine to do with how I see fit. If I choose, I could lock her away from all of you, ensuring her family line ends—and thus the cure. See it as mercy I’m granting you the ability to regain your dreaded human lives.” He holds the heart up before rotating his wrist and dropping it beside the deceased body. “If anyone dares to question me again, this will be the outcome of your stupidity. If any of you even fucking look at her, you will die. Leave, now, all of you.”

Like magick, every vampire in the room disappears in a massive blur, obeying his command before they end up on the wrong side of his mood. Only two remain: the one I’ve guessed to be his friend, given he’s the only one who approached all night, and the one who won the bid on my blood.

That one drops to his knees, his head lowering. “My liege, I hope our deal still stands?—”

“I don’t break agreements with those who show respect,” Dormer interrupts with an irritated flick of his hand that gives me an idea of what he would have been like as a human ruler. “Stand. You’ll receive what you paid for shortly.”

Right. With everything, I’d almost forgotten about the bid. Almost , but after being nearly attacked by three vampires, pouring a bit of blood into this guy’s mouth—or however Dormer is planning on doing this—seems so insignificant.

He turns my way, pinning me with that gaze of his that makes me want to bolt while also remaining unmoving. Eyes that are no duller than moments ago, blood now drying, crusting on his face.

He’s like a nightmare and a dream come to life. A physical embodiment of fear, yet as he approaches, I’m overcome with a sense of safety wrapping me in its arms. For better or worse, he saved me. Only to protect what he believes is his investment, but still. For now, I’m breathing because he didn’t allow them near me.

I’m frozen in place as he stops short, his hand darting for my arms. His fingers are stained with blood, but thankfully it isn’t the hand that ripped out a heart. That one is coated in gore up to the wrist, and the scent tickles my nose.

As though reading my thoughts, he wipes that hand on his pants before unclasping the cuffs with a jerk of the metal. “You better hope on your life this works.”

The cuffs drop to my feet, my wrists immediately lighter, but the vision that slams into me pushes me right back down.

“Come on, time to go.” Cuffs land by my feet, my arms feeling lighter than they have since I was put in here.

Dormer yanks me towards the other vampire, snapping me from my thoughts. A memory? Whatever it was…I glance towards the scars on my wrists. Impossible. Maybe it was a premonition of what’s to come, even though I’ve never had those before. It would explain hearing his voice, if so.

At this point, I’ll lump all the weirdness together and tie it in a giant bow marked with a big question mark. Topped with my shadowy tormentors, of course.

He snaps his fingers and, seemingly out of nowhere, a guy appears with a goblet—a human, based on his blue eyes and scared demeanor—handing it off before he skitters out of the ballroom. I watch him go, wondering how many people Dormer has captive here.

He gestures towards me, slipping a knife from his pocket, telling me all this was pre-planned. Unless he walks around with weapons on him for fun. “You’ll bleed into the cup, and that is all that will be required.”

His friend wanders closer as Dormer places the blade by the meaty part of my hand, and I shuffle my feet until I have him in a better view, just in case he’s someone I need to worry about attacking me once the bleeding starts.

The slice that’ll be the start of so much more—the lineups outside the castle about to ensue—is only stopped by the other vampire interrupting. “Wait. How do you know how much to bleed from her?”

“A few sips is all it’ll take,” Dormer answers.

“Are you certain?”

“According to the history of my family, yes,” I chime in, irritated. The bloodsucker is about to be handed immortality at my expense, and he’s complaining?

The look he gives is like I’m a bug on the bottom of his shoe—worthless of his attention. “You have every reason to lie.”

“Yeah, but I’m not.”

“Both of you, shut it.” Dormer’s command is only enforced by the quick slice on the same palm I cut with the rock. It re-opens the wound, enticing a curse out of me that all three vampires ignore. Assholes probably haven’t felt pain since they were human.

“That fucking hurts,” I hiss, but it gets worse when Dormer presses his thumb beside the cut, forcing blood to well faster. It slides to the edge of my hand before dripping into the goblet, the small amount forming a pool of everything I’ve spent years avoiding.

I jerk my hand away, my movement clearly unexpected to him because he doesn’t stop me, and the next drop doesn’t join the others in the cup. My pitiful resistance only lasts so long when Dormer appears behind me, his arms coming around my waist to regain control. He pushes even harder into the cut, and I twist to glare, hoping those heightened senses of his pick up on the level of hatred I have for him.

Just in case he can’t, I mutter, “I fucking hate you.”

“I’m aware.”

He abruptly pulls back, satisfied with the inch of blood in the cup. He releases his hold, his body disappearing from behind me before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silk handkerchief, handing it to me.

His nostrils are flared, his voice a grating command. “Clean yourself.”

Taking the handkerchief, I wrap it around the cut, fisting my hand to soak up as much of the blood as possible before the others get triggered.

Dormer passes the goblet to the other vampire, who eagerly snatches it. Dormer’s friend comes up on my other side, his attention on the show about to take place.

In truth, I am curious to see the outcome of what my ancestors did as well. Out of all possible chances at witnessing the transformation, this is probably the best and safest one.

The vampire lifts the cup to his mouth and tips it back, his throat working in large gulps as he swallows it— me —down. Dormer crosses his arms and observes all his hard work with a look of satisfaction.

After all…one hundred thousand dollars made this possible. One vampire, and a few drops.

I’m never getting out of here. There’s nothing I can offer him that’ll replace this business opportunity—money that’s unfathomable to me. It’s a realization as heavy as the shadows Hecate keeps sending after me.

The cup lowers, and the vampire wipes blood from the corner of his mouth, swiping it against his fang for what’ll be the final time. “Your blood tastes like honey.” He glances towards Dormer. “You will be making a fortune off her. How long does it take to work?”

“Few minutes.”

“And if it doesn’t? I’ll need more.”

Dormer snarls, inching himself closer to me. “You’ve gotten plenty.”

The other vampire opens his mouth, presumably to argue, but then he gasps. His black eyes wildly dart around the room, as though seeking answers to a question he isn’t asking, before a full-body shudder drops him to the ground, a pained cry filling the room.

His shrill scream is loud enough my ears would likely bleed if he went on for a while. He manages to get on his hands and knees, and his back bows, his head lowering to the ground.

“Fuck,” Dormer’s friend whispers, his tone amazed.

This is the cure at work. This is why my ancestors did this. To eradicate vampires, one bloodsucker at a time. Maybe there will be an upside to captivity…

The screams fade into pants, and the man’s head darts up, his gaze landing on me. Only this time, he no longer has fangs but straight, human teeth that grin in a non-malicious manner. Brown eyes instead of black, and his skin darkens with the newly changed blood coursing through him.

“It worked,” he whispers, a sense of wonder filling his tone.