“Ah,” his fellow bloodsucker steepled his fingers, nodding gravely. “This is quite the development.” I could feel his pleasure in drawing the moment out, forcing James to speak first.
There was the faintest whiff of a sigh from the man behind me. “Aleksei Volkov.”
The name meant something to the other bloodsucker, his eyes widened just a fraction, but I could feel his excitement, somehow. The house music filled the silence as the two monsters stared at each other. I realized I was getting a bit dizzy because I’d been holding my breath, and I tried to draw in air as silently as possible. Miles’ reptilian gaze followed the rise and fall of my chest.
“Volkov is not a man I would wish to cross,” he observed, “he has quite the gathering of followers. Most sloppy. Greedy. Many have met the sun as punishment, but no one would think of attempting to…” Miles pondered some more.
James was perfectly immobile, his arm across my lap, keeping me the same way.
The male pet shifted position and scratched his leg.
I took a sip of my wine. It was heavy and bitter. I didn’t care for red wine but I took another sip anyway. Glancing upward, my flesh crawled. Miles was following the movement of my throat as I drank.
“He spends much of his time with Gisane Laurent,” he volunteered.
“She exists? I thought she was a myth?” James was clearly shocked.
Miles was no longer smirking. “She exists,” he allowed, “and she is far worse than the stories told, I assure you.”
As James leaned forward, the push of his chest on my back thrust me forward, too. Aaaand, that goddamn bloodsucker’s lizard gaze was back, lingering on my cleavage, more or less on display.
“Where? Tell me, Miles and I can take care of them.”
“Here is where I draw the line on our friendship,” Miles said crisply. “For this, I require payment.”
James leaned back, and so did I. “What form of payment?”
Depraved Uncle Guy gave him a fond smile. “Chattel.”
There was another moment of silence and staring and whatever mind games these two were playing with each other, but I was too scared to even take a sip from the glass clenched in my hand.
Smoothly sliding me from his lap, James rose and took my hand in his, gently placing my glass on the table. “Thank you for your time, Miles.”
I heard a pained shriek from behind me and turned to see the now Angry as well as Depraved Uncle Guy slash the back of one pet, then the other with a riding crop, hard enough for a small spurt of blood on the young man’s shoulder blade. As James yanked me through the door, I watched as others drifted over, like smoke to watch their suffering.
I put my hand on the rainy windshield on our way back to my high-end prison. The glass was cool and I was swamped with longing again to be outside. To feel the rain and the chill, look for stars between the ever-present clouds. Pushing the button to lower the window, I sighed when I realized it was locked.
“What are you doing?” scolded James. “You’ll get water all over my leather interior.”
“I just wanted to touch…” I struggled, “outside, I guess.” He gave me a brief glance and the rest of the ride back was silent.
James…
“Wait.”
She turned to me; an eyebrow raised. Already trying to trudge up the stairs to the bedroom when the word escaped me.
“Come here.”
Oh, my girl was so wary, trying to make her way back down while edging away. I chuckled, taking her hand and pulling her along with me. Opening a door across the hall, I led her through.
“Oh…” It was half a sigh, half a sob from her as she stepped out.
My home was surrounded by a high brick wall on two sides, enclosing a little garden not visible from the bedroom windows. The full moon illuminated the lush grass, rose bushes and an ancient carved wooden pergola. It sheltered the plump padded couch inside from the rain. When I switched on the outdoor heating lamps, it felt almost summery in this little space.
I watched her slip off the Louboutin heels I’d given her to wear to the club and set her bare feet carefully in the wet grass. Her pale green eyes closed and her head tilted, sending her glossy black hair cascading down her back. So sophisticated and lovely in that red dress. So different than her first appearance in my agency, with her thrift store office wear and her sloppy braid. My doll breathed in deeply, those pretty breasts rising and falling. I folded my arms, leaning against the brick by the terrace door as I watched her.
She looked up at the full moon, which was casting a light bright enough to illuminate every feature on her lovely face. Giving an odd little huff, she turned her face away.
