Bait

Chapter Twenty-Seven

As I arrived to the same dark, wooden paneled study where Tane had locked me in, Dragos reclined on a plain wood chair. With one sandaled foot resting on his knee and his arm thrown over the chair back, he stared at a large broad sword that rested over the fireplace mantle.

I stepped through the threshold as quiet as a mouse, not wanting to disturb him, and took this opportunity to admire his male beauty. Muscular and strong, his chest and arms strained against the gray t-shirt he wore. The electric lights were off and he must have lit some candles, while I’d been gone, so the flickering glow caste shadows on the walls. His black leather pants clung to his long legs and ended in a pair of brown, worn sandals.

Why did I ever fear him or think him monstrous? His tattooed baldhead and pointed ears made him more exotic, not repulsive.

“Why would you run from me?” He echoed my thoughts. Soft and compelling, his voice had the timber of someone who never yelled. I wanted to hear more. “It would have displeased me if you’d left and taken Rurik with you.”

All the trouble I went through to escape and release Rurik appeared silly now. I should have stayed here and waited. What sort of horrible person was I to make him unhappy? I knelt to cower on my hands and knees, ashamed of my selfishness. “I’m so sorry , Master.”

“Since you’re still young and foolish, Rabbit, I forgive you. I’ll teach you to be a proper pet. Look at me.”

Still bent low to the ground I gazed up at his magnificence. He’d uncrossed his legs and now leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

“You and your merry band of slayers have entertained Tane to no end during our visit to Budapest. He’s offered you as a token for leaving me out.” He gestured to his lap. “Approach me.”

My legs shook so much I couldn’t stand. Not from fear but from anticipation of his touch. So I crawled.

His presence filled the room. Energy and malevolence pulsed from him in imperceptible waves.

When I reached his legs I couldn’t resist rubbing my face against them like a cat in heat.

“Much better.” He ran his fingers through my curls then pinched the material of my long-sleeved t-shirt between two fingers. “I hate these modern fashions on women. Take it off.”

I started to remove my shirt but his touch on my arm stopped me. “Stand, I want to watch.”

Something bothered me about his request. It made me uncomfortable but I couldn’t understand why. I stood and undid my jeans then slid them down my legs in a slow manner. My earlier hesitation lifted and my purpose to make Dragos happy returned. The shirt, socks and shoes joined my jeans in quick succession.

I stood in my matching white lace bra and thong, happy I’d thought to wear these today instead of my sports stuff.

The cold heat of his scrutiny burned as his stare traced up my legs, over the generous curves of my hips, and stopped at the mounds of my breasts. “Turn.”

I did a slow three-sixty. If Tane wouldn’t have hurried me so much I might have thought to wear some make-up or done my hair. Instead, I came here as a windblown, nut case.

“I think I’d like you better with heels but this will do for now.” He tapped his lap once more with his hand.

The gesture triggered a reflexive annoyance but it vanished almost as soon as it materialized. I scurried to him and perched on his trunk-like thighs. The skintight leather of his pants felt smooth and slick under my behind. I could feel every hard muscle in his legs. This god-like creature wanted me and it thrilled me that he did. I’d make him a very, very happy Master.

His fingers traced a line down my spine sending shivers straight to my scalp, raising the hairs on my body. “Like a god?” He whispered close to my ear. “You have it wrong, Rabbit. I am a god.”

I started with the confirmation of his words. He really could read my thoughts. My repressed self bubbled up from where Dragos hid her. I grasped at my non-existent mental shield and panicked as a wave of calm poured over me before I could fight back. It allowed me to breathe easier and relax into his arms.

“You like to fight.” His tone sounded approving. “And you don’t believe me. Let me show you our godhood.”

Visions of an ancient stone temple towering over a dense jungle intruded my thoughts like a video clip. Dragos stood on a dais at the top of the stairs, which climbed the side of the building, as people were dragged to him one at a time. Sacrifices. His soft voice echoed in my head. The moonlight glinted off his pale skin and baldhead, a giant surrounded by his worshippers.

Precious life and blood, taken for granted, spilled for a monster that cared nothing for them. Who probably terrorized this simple culture into extinction.

One after another the faces of victims played for me until I recognized a handsome and arrogant expression. The love in his eyes for his god shone bright. Tane, before Dragos made him a Nosferatu vampire.

As a human, he appeared so angelic.

My personal trip in history faded to present day, where Dragos attempted to convert me to his religion.

I’m not sure when I moved but now I straddled him, pressed up against his massive chest with my arms wrapped around his thick corded neck. The scent of the Danube River still clung to him.

His fingers played up and down my spine while he kissed a line from my shoulder to my ear. “Rurik’s changed you. I don’t like it.”

I pushed myself away to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?” Rurik should have minded his own business and left me alone. I needed to fix things for Dragos so he’d like me again.

“He’s made you happy. I can barely hear your grief. Even my visions of death don’t stir it.” He gripped a handful of my hair and yanked it so far back I had to arch my torso to prevent him snapping me in two.

I groaned at the strain on my back. My hands tried to find purchase but only found his arms to grasp. I wanted to give him what he wanted but didn’t know how. It made me ache with incompetence.

“We’ll have to fix this. I want to taste the salty grief that almost drowned you when we met.” His fangs dragged and scraped the tender skin of my neck. “Let’s explore this together and dig it back up. It was so fresh, it couldn’t have healed in this short span of time.” Pressure built in my head as Dragos sank himself into my memories. “I think this is the source of your grief.”

Dragos and Budapest disappeared, replaced by a heart monitor on a hospital nightstand. The soft blips sounded familiar and the smell, of something dying, filled the room. I turned, already expecting what would be there.

Laurent, my deceased husband, lay in a hospital bed. Blankets pulled up to his waist, his exposed arms so thin and skeletal. The cancer had eaten away all of his strength.

A mass of wild blond curls rested next to his lap on the other side of the bed. He twirled one around his finger then let it fall away only to start over again, a bitter sweet smile on his face.

The head of hair stirred and lifted from the bed. I watched myself rub the sleep from my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Laurent touched my face.

“Nonsense, I’d have been upset if you let me sleep too long. Are you hurting? Do you need the nurse?”

“I’m all right, Connie. You really should get more sleep.”

“I get plenty of sleep.” The lie sat in the room like an elephant. At the time I believed myself. But as I looked at the dark circles under my eyes and my own weight loss I knew I’d only fooled myself. Laurent could see my suffering no matter how hard I tried to conceal it.

That hurt. A lot.

I reached for an open book that sat on the bedside table. “Do you want me to continue reading to you?” The Princess Bride scrawled across the cover in bold letters. He’d given it to me on our first date. I’d been more in a Romeo and Juliet kind of mood that day but we both loved this story.

He nodded. “As you wish, but lay next to me.” He tried to scoot over but the pain made him grimace.

“Let me help.” My younger self raced around the bed to help him shift over then I crawled in next to him.

He placed his head above my heart and snuggled in tight. His left hand caressed my breast until the nipple budded.

“How can I read with you fooling around?”

“I may be dying but I’m not dead.” His chuckle tore my heart apart just like it did then. He glanced at my face and sucked in a breath. “Oh baby, don’t cry.” He pulled me down and kissed the tears that rolled over my cheeks.

“That’s not funny.” I sounded choked up on tears.

I’d buried this day deep, deep in my subconscious. I didn’t want to be here, I couldn’t survive this again. I wasn’t strong enough yet to face this moment.

The last time we’d made love.

I tried to get out, but the room had no door. The pleasant noises from the bed drove me mad with guilt. I couldn’t watch my younger self with my dead husband. This was why memories faded. How could I have continued living without him? I pressed my hands to my ears and curled up in a corner but I could still hear his climax.

The sound changed, it became shriller. I recognized it. Time had shifted to a few days later. The heart monitor no longer blipped. I uncurled myself and approached his bed.

Dead. Just as I remembered it.

The horrid ear piercing cries came from the younger me on the other side of the bed. A nurse tried to console her but I was beyond that. Grief held me prisoner, then and now. Neither of us had any family, only each other.

I was alone.

I don’t know who howled louder at this point, me or the vision of me. Whatever healed since his death, ripped open. I knelt by the side of his bed, grasped his cold hand, and cried as if I’d never been through this before.

Alone, again.

A ripple of laughter cut through my grief. “Much better, Rabbit. This isn’t the source though but I see it now.” Dragos ’ voice pulled me from Laurent’s bedside.

Instead, I knelt on the grass in a cemetery. I recognized the place even though I hadn’t been there in ages. A cold dread seeped into me. Quiet weeping to my left drew my attention. A teenage Connie Bence sat on the fresh dirt covering a grave, all alone. My grandmother, my grandma, the only family I grew up with and knew of. I wanted to tell my younger self that everything would be all right. In a few years we’d meet a great guy who’d set us straight. Who’d show us there really were good people in the world. That they weren’t a myth.

Helpless, I watched the younger me draw away from the world. Left in New York City, known for eating its young and destroying their innocence, to fend for myself.

This grief didn’t stab me like the other but Dragos was right, it all started here.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. What happiness I knew became a forgotten memory.

A sudden sharp pain in my neck snatched me from my inner turmoil. Dragos ended the torture, satisfied at last with my state of mind. My blood salty enough with grief for him to feed.

He drank deep, his arms holding me fast and tight as he pulled my life’s essence from my body.

I didn’t struggle, I wanted it to end. It felt right to give him what he wanted.

Moans of pleasure emanated from Dragos. He bit down harder to increase the flow.

The pain caused me to cry out. It helped clear some of the fog clouding my reason. Why would I want Dragos to drink from me? He would kill me with his thirst. Laurent and my grandmother would never want me to give up.

The face of my new love returned, a fresh start, and a chance for a happily ever after. I’d left Rurik chained to a stone pillar, weak from being bled, to face the dawn. Then I crawled and undressed for Dragos? Worse, I let him touch me.

When did I lose my mind?

This triggered a cascade of memory blocks, the ones Tane built to hide our intentions. They crashed one after another. Colby’s rescue, Tane’s plan, and my involvement in both rushed back to me. I drank the drug and Dragos now drank me but I had failed to release my hero.

Shit.