Another door opened down the hall. More male voices. Different men, talking loud and arguing, harsh words drenched in violence.
She shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t safe. Some of these old buildings had double exits. At the other end of the hall, a crooked exit sign hung over a doorway that might lead to escape. They were busy, she could just leave, no matter what he said.
More noise inside the apartment. Groans of pain. It sounded so ugly. “Did I say you could talk? You had your chance. Your brother had his. And your father had his. Every fucking one of you red-blood cockroaches. This is not how we are gonna play this here. I don’t care who says they are in charge. You know the rules. No more talking. Get it done or I will.” Fury saturated every one of Micah’s words.
She held her breath as she crept past the open door, eyeing the exit sign hopefully.Don’t look in, keep eyes on the floor. Act natural.
But stupid her, Sophie’s eyes drifted to the interior of the apartment anyway.
Micah, with Jumper behind him, had his hands on the stooped shoulders of a shirtless, skinny human guy on his knees. And there was blood. So much blood.
The instant she registered the sight, she could smell it too. Her throat closed; her stomach heaved. Her captor, Micah, had caused that violence. He was worse than the vampir—raw, wild, unpredictable, and uncontrolled. What was she going to do? How could she escape? Her mind spun. A sound slipped out before she could stop it, and Micah’s head whipped her direction.
He moved in front of her, blocking the sight of his violence. A cold sweat popped out on Sophie’s brow, a delicate little trickle finding its way into her eye. She flinched when his hand came her way then circled the back of her neck. “What a bad girl you are. Not following directions. Not staying where I put you.”
She wiped at her mouth and licked her lips, trying to find moisture. Every inch of this man was turbulent, barely leashed chaos—just so bright and alive. What was he going to do? Would he beat her now, like the guy in the apartment? Was he going to hurt her?
She could barely form rational thought as panic filled up her mind and stole her breath.
“Breathe in through your nose, little Starlight. You aren’t meant to see this. Should’ve stayed home today, yeah?”
Latching on to the contact of the hand at her neck, to the voice in her ear, so close she could feel his hot breath, Sophie did as she was told.
“That’s it. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You’re panicking. Why are you so afraid, little vampir drudge? I know they get rough where you are from.” He brought her forehead against the heated muscle of his body, barely concealed by rain-damped cotton.
Each inhale filled her senses with the rich, musky smell of him. She liked things simple. Step-by-step directions. When she did what the vampir wanted, she avoided slaps, hair pulling, and red-faced yelling. She knew what to do and what to expect. She should have listened to him. Why didn’t she listen?
Simple instructions were good. Necessary. Important.
Micah’s tone changed to a sensual purr, “Sweet Starlight, that’s right, listen to me. That’s your last chance now, not gonna tell you over and over. You see what happens when you don’t follow directions? You made yourself sick. Saw shit you shouldn’t. That can get you killed here. No one cares what a commodity you are if you get in their way. You get me? You are going to do what I say, aren’t you, baby?”
Panic receding, she looked up at him, biting her lip. His finger touched the corner of her mouth and pulled her lip free. Touching her like he could do whatever he wanted, and she would accept it. His entire hand engulfed her jaw, a finger brushing over her wet cheeks. Was it from the rain, or the tears she’d started crying? She didn’t know anymore.
Standing too close, he murmured, “Too good for this place, aren’t you? Too young and innocent for a dirty old monster like me.”
Two hands on her neck now, collaring her, he gifted her with unexpected calm as his thumbs brushed up behind her ears. Hot, calloused palms held her there for a heartbeat, branding her skin. Then his eyes met hers, searching.
No one had touched her like this. Other than hugs she forced on Alexi, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been touched by hands that weren’t cold, impatient, or clinical.
“Please, let me go. I’ll go right home,” she promised weakly.
Taking her hand again, He tugged her down the hall, leaving the beaten man in the apartment behind. “Let you go? Don’t think so. Come on. Let’s get in the car.”
His friend, Jumper, didn’t come with them. Micah opened the car door for her, helped her in before going around the vehicle to get in. Sophie glanced out at the rain-soaked street.
Now. Run now.She gripped the door handle.
The car rocked as Micah sat down, starting it without another glance her direction. Andhe knew.“Don’t run from me. You won’t like what happens, baby. You know where you are, right? Who’s territory you’re in? I’m not some fluttery, fancy vampir. I will chase you, and fun things gonna happen when I catch you. Well, fun things for me. Can’t resist a chase, you understand?”
Sophie tucked her hand back in her lap. Micah didn’t know she had the gift of recognizing the nature of alternative supernaturals. Even if they could hide from each other, or other types of gifted humans like sorcerers, witches, and healers, they couldn’t hide from her. Their true nature stood out, no matter how ugly. Even when she didn’t want to see it.
The vampir didn’t know if she’d lose that gift if she lost her virginity, but it was another trait that earned their protection. She was valuable to them as she was, and never had to fear becoming a pleasure toy.
She didn’t have any value for a man like Micah. Why wouldn’t he let her go?
There was something about him, not in his face, but in his bearing, that suggested more age than he looked like he could claim. All the lore Sophie had access to said that older blue-bloods were more dangerous. This car no one else could afford to fuel, the way he talked to that man, he could be a South Bloc gang lord.
Another thing Apocalypse Day turned upside down. Age equaled power and strength. Youth only meant you were weak and hadn’t paid your dues.
