From my position sitting on the hearth, I warily lifted my head and peered up at the small glass square situated under the mantelpiece. It was a fingerprint identifier, but the little device fixed to the side of it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. A tiny needle gleamed when I shifted my head. The Count’s blood was the key. Clever. I’d missed that little bit of info when I’d watched him from across the room, hidden by the oak bookshelves.
It took hours before I heard a car approach; dawn had broken, my behind was numb, and my fingernails were almost non-existent, not to mention bleeding and throbbing excruciatingly. I’d gone through so many emotions as I waited to discover my punishment that I was exhausted. Would he give me to the guards who hadn’t taken their eyes off me? Would he let them drain me dry? Rape me? Or physically hurt me? Nikolai would. He’d do all of it and more, so long as he got to watch. Or he’d fuck one of his minions while his eyes stayed on me. Sometimes it was one of them on their knees for him, instead of me. Male or female, it didn’t matter to Nicolai. Like with most vamps, the gender of their sexual partners wasn’t important. No matter the physical dynamics, his face always wore that same look of triumph and satisfaction as I was hurt. Power was what got him off, not just sex. He disgusted me. Would the Count do that? Did he like to watch? I doubted there was any sexual experience he hadn’t had in his long life. But powerful men always enjoyed flaunting their dominance. He was probably no different. I swallowed the bitterness of vomit, my heart pounding as my thoughts churned. His prisoners at the club certainly wouldn’t think so.
Through the open door of the library, voices resonated, but the Count didn’t enter the room for another two hours. By that time, I was a mess. I was hungry, thirsty, and needed to pee.Badly. I was convinced I’d either be taken back to Nikolai or punished like other people who angered the Count by being strapped to a pole and auctioned off as a sex slave at his club.
When the Count entered the room, I was a mess. Sweat stained my clothes, and I shook so hard I had to clamp my hands under my armpits to stop them shaking. His beautiful eyes landed on me, and I felt a surge of energy flow from him into the room. My skin tingled just like it always did when he was near.
“Thank you, Vito, you may all leave.”
Vito nodded once and left without so much as another glance in my direction. I didn’t look at the Count; there was no point. I’d accepted that my punishment would be severe. I shrank back as he walked towards an old winged armchair that was only three feet from me. Warily, I watched as he lowered himself into the chair and contemplated me. But my fear was forgotten the moment I noticed the dark shadows under his eyes and the dullness of his long black hair. The changes in his appearance were subtle enough that I didn’t think anyone else would notice. I did, because I’d studied him intently from the day he’d become my knight in shining armour. He was the sexiest, most magnificent man, I mean, male, that I’d ever seen. His darkness, the menace that surrounded him, even his reserved manner, only made him more alluring and mysterious to me. Even after everything that had happened to me, I found that air of danger exhilarating.
Butterflies fluttered in my belly whenever I saw him, and I’d had to work hard to keep heat from flushing my cheeks. I wasn’t so naive that I didn’t realise there might be a tremendous amount of hero worship on my side. He’d gotten me out of that hellhole, away from Nikolai and his ‘friends’, but Balthazar Rossi wasn’t a kind soul either, at least not from what I’d heard or seen. Then again, he’d done nothing to hurt or subjugate me.
Except, right then, my cheeks weren’t flushing with excitement or nerves. All I felt was shame. I’d abused his trust. It wasn’t even as if I could explain my need to see that tapestry again. I bit my top lip and straightened my spine before I met his glittering gaze. “I’m sorry.” I rushed the words out before he could speak.
He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I daresay you are, little one.” His eyes narrowed and were utterly cold. “Or are you just sorry that you got caught?”
I gulped. This was the stone-cold killer that the rest of the world knew. Fear skittered down my spine, my heart racing. He’d hear it. But I couldn’t do anything about that. I had no idea how to handle this icy, reserved behaviour. Nikolai had always yelled at me when he was angry; even if I hadn’t been the cause of his fury, I’d paid. Dearly. Usually, with broken bones, followed by rough sex as he or his friends fed off me. Cigar burns were another favourite, one of many other punishments my former vampire master had enjoyed inflicting. I’d hoped I’d never again have to go to that empty place in my head that protected my mind even as my body was wrecked.
I swallowed hard. Would I be able to endure whatever Balthazar was going to do? Perhaps I’d find a way to leave when this was over—if I was still alive. If I could still function, I’d run, go to America, or even Australia, and get away from all the cruel males, of any species, I’d faced in my life…
“What are you doing?” His voice was dark and ominously quiet.
I kept my head down and finished getting on my knees, my gaze fixed to the floor and my hands lying lightly across my thighs, palms up. “I’m waiting for my punishment—Sir.”
Silence descended. All I could hear was my own frantic heartbeat and breathing. He didn’t move. Not sure what to do, I peeked at him. Nikolai had never waited; he’d always been freewith his fists and his body. If he wanted something from me, he took it, quickly and viciously. Waiting was a hundred times worse.
The Count’s face was dark, his eyes a deep red, though his position in the chair had not altered. He looked relaxed, but I wasn’t fooled. I’d seen him like this before, with his enemies. He was a predator, and in the blink of an eye, before you knew it, you were dead.
“I know you were in here a few weeks ago when I opened this room. What is it that you think is in there, Sorcha? Are you working for Nikolai, hm? Was his whole plan to get me to give a shit about you and bring you into my home so that you could spy for him? Is that it?”
My chin shot higher as anger flashed through me. “What? You truly believe I would help him? That…” I wanted to swear, but I couldn’t do it. It had been so ingrained in me that ladies didn’t swear that, even now, I couldn’t force the names I had for my previous master out between my lips. “...that flea? You want to know what I’m doing? I’m doing as I was taught by him. Waiting as vermin should for my punishment.”
My gut twisted. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I didn’t have to kneel subserviently to this other vampire. It wouldn’t make any difference to the severity of my punishment; I already knew that. I’d trusted him, far deeper than I had Nikolai. With Nikolai, I’d only had a few hours before the abuse started. Yet, I guess this was my own fault. I’d wanted to see that tapestry again. Tears burned my eyes. But wasn’t it curiosity that killed the cat?
“What do you prefer, Sir? To break my arms, put one of those cigars you like to smoke out on my skin, or shall I just strip so that you can use me until you get bored before you give me to your men to feed from?”
The Count’s eyes flared to a bright crimson, and his jaw muscles popped. “Which of those punishments do you prefer?”
My shoulders slumped, his voice was quiet, controlled in a way Nikolai’s had never been. I’d still held a little hope that he wasn’t like Nikolai in his cruelty. “Whichever you do, Sir.” Tears dripped down my face and off my chin, but I forced myself to swallow the ache in my throat and stop crying. I wanted to trust this powerful vampire, to believe there was some kindness in him. Gods, I really was stupid. No vampire was trustworthy. They did nothing but lie and cause pain. Yet, I couldn’t deny that I shouldn't have been sneaking around his home.
“Get up, Sorcha.”
I was surprised by how close his voice was. A pair of expensive, shiny black shoes appeared in my line of sight. Slowly, I looked up into his face. He loomed above me, his eyes still broadcasting his anger. Trying to hide my fear was pointless when he could scent it and hear my heart racing, but I still kept my spine straight. I’d survive this. I always did. Still, I couldn’t seem to move.
“Sorcha. Up.”
Why was he holding a hand out to help me to my feet? My tormentors didn’t usually do that. It was usually a kick or a shove to get me to move where they wanted me. Utterly confused, I placed my hand in his, feeling a familiar tingle of energy against my skin as we connected. He pulled me to my feet, and even when I stood tall, I ended up staring at his chest. I felt small and insignificant, with no idea what was about to happen. I braced for the pain that would surely follow, fixating on the buttons of his silk shirt.
Gentle fingers lifted my chin. “I have no intention of hurting you, Sorcha. I can sense a lie, and you did not lie. So tell me, what were you looking for?”
My voice stuck in my throat. No punishment? There was always a punishment for making a mistake, no matter how minor. I stared into his red irises. Up close like this, I could see how pretty they were. I clenched my jaw as his smooth scent surrounded me. I had a sudden urge to lean my forehead against his broad chest and absorb his strength, to feel his arms around me, protecting me from a world that had done nothing but lie and cause pain. But that wasn’t possible. I was a human, nothing to a vampire like him. Despite the past months of relative safety, I had no reason to trust his words. No, I had to brace for him to laugh cruelly and punch me to the ground.
His eyes faded back to the almost colourless state that usually made my heart race. This close, I could see those tiny flecks of red turn a nearly colourless ice blue that gave them their arresting appearance. The ring of black that surrounded his irises made a startling contrast.
“Sorcha?”
His voice was so gentle, I felt tears prick my eyes, and my body began to tremble. This was cruel. “Don’t pretend, Count, please. Just do it.”
