Page 11 of Nicolette

“I see from your expression you remember who I am,” Mortas commented. “Do you remember what I told you the day I killed your father?”

The only answer I wanted to give this jackass was to shove a stake up his ass. Since it wasn’t smart for me to do that, I merely continued to glare at him. He shouldn’t be offended by it, either. He was the one who told me not to trust anyone.

“Perhaps you’re unable to answer me. That’s all right,” Mortas said as he placed his hands on either side of my head. “I’ll just have to read your mind then.”

The fuck you will. I snarled just before I slammed down the mental shields I’d taken years to perfect. Many of the supernatural roommates I had, wanted nothing more than to get in my head so they could mess with me. After having nightmares for a week because of a dream demon across the hall, I made short work of figuring out how to block him for good. Granted, the cocky prick died the following weekend, but it was still something I needed to learn. Now I kept up a low level of protection so no passing Supe could pick up on my thoughts. Better to be safe than sorry. Who knew what could decide to pop into my mind and force me to do something against my will?

“My, aren’t we a clever one,” Mortas murmured, his eyes closed in concentration. “Who taught you how to guard your mind so tightly? No one here would have given you that kind of coaching.”

I could feel him poking around, looking for the slightest weakness to force his way in. Good fucking luck, you walking, talking, corpse. I’d never let you find a way in.

“It would seem you have a few tricks up your sleeve, Nicolette. Could it be that you took my words to heart even all these years later?” Mortas pondered, having a conversation with himself. “Your father claimed you had none of his blood in you, but that can’t be true, not with how powerful this shielding is.”

Opening his eyes, he leaned down and licked my cheek, making me want to vomit at the feel of his slimy cold tongue. A shiver of disgust ran through my body, sending bolts of pain along with it as my body protested the movement.

“Interesting…” Mortas drawled. “You are distinctly human, but yet not. I can’t put my finger on it, but you have a bit of supernatural blood in you. Diluted almost to extinction, but whoever this male donor was, had a mixed breed in line somewhere. That certainly explains your skills and ability to stay alive as long as you have in the hands of an idiot like The Broker. Did you know I’ve been trying to buy you from him for quite some time? Unfortunately, you make him too much money, and he doesn’t want to give you up.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell I’m doing here now as you lay dying on the table. The answer is to fulfill my promise, of course. I told you one day I would offer you life when death was imminent. Right now, you’re a little too alive for my needs, so I figured, why let an opportunity go to waste? My plan is to drain you until there’s just enough blood in your body to keep you alive, then make my offer. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” Mortas asked, smiling down at me like it was his birthday or something.

Do vampires even have birthdays?

Why the fuck am I thinking about that right now?

I was never going to need to know the answer. Mortas shoved my head to the side, baring my vein to him, which he licked before sinking his fangs into me. A whimper slipped out at the pain, and I knew it was because I was blocking him from my mind. He couldn’t cloud my feelings, hiding how painful this experience really was. That’s why I hardly ever let anyone feed off me, but for vampires, sex and feeding were synonymous.

Those nights I took a vampire lover to bed, I got good and tipsy so it wouldn’t be so painful. Orgasms helped as well if they timed it right, but that didn’t happen often. You’d think they’d be better at it after a good hundred years of practice.

Mortas continued to drink, making my body feel heavier and heavier as my heart sped up in a panic, trying to move what blood it could through my veins. Soon my lungs realized I wasn’t getting enough oxygen with the blood loss and sped up my breathing into short frantic bursts. To me, it sounded like I was gasping and choking at the same time, but neither was really helping. Sweat beaded on my skin which was contrary to how cold I felt lying on this metal table. Almost as if the metal was leeching out the last bits of warmth I could muster. Just as my sight started to dim and tunnel, Mortas released me with a satisfied moan.

“Nicolette, you taste like the finest aged wine, spicy, dry, full of body and life. That is a vintage that must be savored, appreciated, and only indulged in on special occasions,” Mortas praised, sounding a little like he was drunk. “I’ve decided… there will be no question, no offer, no choice in the matter. You will simply be mine as of tonight.”

Mortas bit his own wrist, tearing out a chunk of flesh before prying my mouth open and feeding me his blood. Clamping my nose shut with his fingers, I was forced to swallow so I could breathe. With my body’s panicked state, I couldn’t fight the reaction even if I wanted to try. It was on autopilot, doing everything it could to save me, which meant clearing my airway by swallowing.

“That’s it, drink,” Mortas cooed. “Soon, your body will calm as my blood fortifies you, restoring your life. Then you will be blood bonded to me, my little Nicolette. Our lives will be forever connected.”

That spurred me into action, trying to fight against his hold to stop swallowing his blood. I’d rather choke on it than be tied to the man who killed my father for the rest of his immortal life. I could feel myself growing stronger, but that only made me panic. The stronger I became, the closer I was to being taken over by this blood-sucking leech. Then I heard the sound of a snarling cat before Mortas was knocked away from me.

Hissing, yowls, and the sound of a tussle happening somewhere in the room had me attempting to sit up. Still far too weak, I barely got my head off the table before it was too much. Laying there with blood all over me, making the table slick, I tried to think of something to do. If I couldn’t sit up, then maybe I could slide off the table, or roll off, anything to prove to myself I wasn’t giving up. With monumental effort, I got one leg off the table dangling it over the side. Next, I worked on using that leg to get me closer to the edge of the table. Even with my blood acting as lubrication, it was too much for my battered body to manage.

Letting out a frustrated sob, I felt hot tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes. God-fucking-dammit, why, why was this happening to me? Hadn’t I gone through enough already in my life? Couldn’t there be just the one time I get rescued instead of having to save myself? Was that too much to ask?

A soft furry head nuzzled mine, licking away the tears with its rough tongue. My eyes flickered open to meet the crystal blue gaze of Marco—or was it Polo? He let out a mewling chuff as if he was upset or sad seeing me like this. His large paws started to knead into my stomach, which had me gasping as the claws pierced my skin.

“Wait,” I croaked out. “You’re hurting me, Marco.”

I couldn’t tell you why I knew it was Marco, but I did. There was something in his expression that I’d seen in his human eyes as well. Almost as if he was distressed at my state of being and wanted to fix it. He gave a quick chirp of acknowledgment before he started purring and rubbing his head all over my face and neck. When he started to groom me, I squirmed at the unpleasant feeling of it but knew he was only trying to be sweet.

“You can’t heal me, Marco,” I whispered. “He fed me his blood, a lot of it. I know you have special abilities in your healing area, but I don’t think you can fix that. It’s better to just kill me and save me from a life of servitude to a vampire.”

Marco pinned his ears back and hissed, crouching low over my body like he was guarding it, searching the room for whoever dared to come close. Come to think of it. The room was really quiet. I hadn’t noticed when that happened, making me curious as to where Mortas went. Marco meowed. At least, I thought that’s what he did since it sounded more like a bird trill than a typical cat sound. He did it again as he stood, planting his paws on my shoulders and putting his weight into them. I groaned at the pain and let my eyes fall closed, only to snap them open when his claws fully extended, stabbing into my flesh deeply.

I whimpered, refusing to cry out as Marco was giving me what I asked for. If I was going to die tonight, I wasn’t going to do it, bawling and begging for my life. This was a good day to die. I’d proven that I could fight a supernatural and win, which only an incredibly small amount of humans could say. My only hope was that Marco would make this quick. I didn’t know how long we had before the vampire blood would win out, keeping me alive forever.

“It’s okay, Marco. I’m ready to die,” I assured him, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. It’s the first time anyone’s ever done that for me. Now all I ask is that you make it quick, and as selfish as it might be of me to ask, could you stay with me until I’m gone? I just don’t really want to do this alone.”

Marco gave a full body shake, his tail thrashing about as he yowled disapprovingly at me.

“Okay, fine, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” I muttered. “We hardly know each other as it is, and here I am asking you to rip out my throat. I wouldn’t want to hang around either.”