CHAPTER EIGHT
After being escorted to my suite, my fury only paused long enough to scarf down my first bite of real food in days. I inhaled the ham sandwich, chugged my soda, and then savored each fry like a tiny treasure. The salt, the grease, and the warm crunch of the potatoes were slivers of heaven. But let’s be honest; any food, even a crappy chilidog from Al’s gas station back home, would’ve tasted great.
I showered, brushed my teeth, and put on my pink satin PJs—my favorites, used only in case of emergencies to lift my spirits. With food in my belly, counteracting whatever was really in that moonshine, my head became terrifyingly clear. I was in trouble, and the problem was bigger than Stark’s lies. He could not be trusted, and I was stuck on an island.
Vampire island!
So, while my first instinct was to go ballistic the moment Stark showed his face, it wasn’t the smartest move. Not if I wanted to get home.Because at this point, there was no reason to believe Stark would ever let me leave. He’d shown his true, deceptive colors.
That meant I had to let Stark continue the ruse while I searched for a way off the island. Then I’d flee during daylight hours while the vampires were asleep. Once I made it home to Leiper’s Fork, I would make Stark pay for this.
How? A problem for another day.
I placed my dirty dishes outside under a bush where a member of the staff would hopefully notice them and take them away. I couldn’t afford for Stark to see that I’d been eating or suspect that I’d caught on. It would only give him an excuse to sedate me again or use his googly-eye powers.
Here on out, I had to be careful. I would fake drinking moonshine, fake-believe I was a vampire, and fake being completely head over heels for that cruel, manipulative, son of a biscuit Montgomery Stark. I had to sell my lie as skillfully as he’d sold his. If I failed, I might never be free again.
Just after sunset, there was a loud knock at my door, and I froze under the covers. I knew it was Stark, but I wasn’t ready for smiling at the man who was lower than a snake’s butthole.
Does it matter if you’re ready?I slid from bed, opened the door, and yawnedlike I’d just woken up.
Stark had his long hair pulled back and wore faded jeans and a dark gray dress shirt.
“Don’t you look tempting in those pink pajamas.” His gaze settled on my breasts, which I didn’t appreciate.
My boobs!And I wasn’t sharing them with him anymore.
“May I come in?” he asked.
May I hock a loogie on your perfect face? Maybe I’ll hit one of those beautiful lying eyes.
“Sure,” I said, flashing a flirty smile. “But only if you brought me something delicious to eat.”
He stepped into the room and pulled his flask from his back pocket.
“Thank God. I’m starving.” I snatched the flask. “Be right back. I’m going to down this and brush my teeth. Dragon breath today.” I hurried to the bathroom and closed the door behind me. “That champagne really got to me last night,” I called out.
“Did it now?” I heard the bed creak, so I guessed he’d taken a seat.
“Tossed my cookies and passed out!” I ran the water and poured out the moonshine. After brushing my teeth, I emerged, doing my best to maintain eye contact so he wouldn’t grow suspicious. I had to appear like a woman who wasn’t fantasizing about taking a cheese grater to his sack. And I wasn’t talking about a standard upright grater with four sides. I was talking hand-crank grater where you shoved the parm block into a little compartmentand smashed the cheese against the shredding wheel.Maximum pain.
“I shouldn’t have let you drink so much,” he said, “but you seemed to be having a good time, and I didn’t want to interfere.”
Here was the thing: Stark had ordered me to enjoy the evening, and for all he knew, I’d had the time of my life. Nonetheless, I was not the type of gal to let his behavior slide, which he already knew. So if I didn’t want him catching suspicious vibes, I had to make a fuss.
I stood near the foot of the bed and planted my hands on my hips. “Yeah, about that fun, if you ever pull that mind voodoo on me again, I’ll rip off your kielbasa and make ya eat it.”
“My kielbasa is much too large to fit in my mouth. Yours, on the other hand…”
I narrowed my eyes. “Did you just say I have a big mouth?”
“You are an opinionated woman, yes.” He stood from the bed and gently grabbed my arms, beaming down at me. “Which I would not have any other way. I love everything about you.”
“I sense a but coming.”
“But,” he added, “you need to learn to relax. Becoming a vampire does not have to deprive you of enjoying life. In fact, I would say it is the opposite. You no longer have to worry about the things that plague a human’s everyday life—crime, illness, poverty. You arefree from all that now.”
Was he really going there? He wanted me to believe that vampirism was one big freedom fest?
