0748469001330321113 slavetoherdesires jillmyles (11 page)

What I hadn‘t counted on? Tripping an alarm when I tried to go through one of the windows rather than the front door.
Stupid
, I told myself again as the men‘s hands clenched harder on my arms and they dragged me forward. The alarm was new. I wouldn‘t make such a mistake again.

Provided I had the chance, of course.

They dumped me in a large room, letting me sprawl in a heap on the wooden floors. My limbs still twitched from the aftershocks of the tasering I‘d been given. The room was filled with people, laughing and talking in hushed voices, and I could smell alcohol. A party, then. I sat up, but a hand at the small of my back pushed me forward, knocking me to the ground again.

The crowd parted, and as they did, I caught sight of him across the room. My old master, Aloysius.

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He looked like hell. Though his clothes were ridiculously opulent and heavy despite the late springtime air, they were wrinkled despite their finery. His skin was sickly pale and his black hair lay in tangles around his face, as if he no longer cared to groom himself. The vampire‘s eyes were red, signifying his hunger, and so bloodshot that they looked like pools of blood in his face.

My shock at his appearance must have shown. In all the years I had known him, Aloysius had always been meticulously groomed…but then again, it had been my job to take care of his clothing and appearance. Had he let himself go while I was gone because he missed me?

Unease clenched in my gut.

The vampire smiled at the sight of me, displaying his fangs. ―Welcome home, my pet.

What brings you here?‖

―I decided to kill you once and for all,‖ I said in a bored voice, hiding my fear and frustration. Those would only be used against me. ―Looks like I failed.‖

―Indeed you did,‖ he said with a leer, then patted his knee. ―Come. Crawl toward your master, Olivia, and show him how much you missed him.‖

My muscles locked and I fell to the floor. I lay on my stomach a moment before starting to crawl forward, helpless to obey. Anger and loathing burned in my stomach as I slid along the floor, past the bare feet of the onlookers. I kept that anger and loathing close to me. It would fuel me through what was to come. Eventually, I arrived to Aloysius‘s feet and stopped.

―Sit up,‖ he said. ―I want to take a look at you.‖

I sat up like a mannequin, my body stiff. My eyes met his and I suppressed a mental shiver. His expression was cold, pitiless. Hateful.

He examined me for a long minute, then tilted his head as my gaze met his. ―Your eyes.‖

I closed them immediately, not wanting to give anything away.

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―Open them,‖ he barked, and my eyes snapped open again. ―They‘re silver,‖ he said accusingly. ―No wonder you didn‘t come crawling back to me several days ago. I knew something was up.‖ His cold sneer made my heart pound. ―So you found David after all this time, did you?‖

I said nothing, even though I knew it was futile. He‘d just force me to answer.

His sneer withered, turning into a snarl. ―Where is he? Where have they hidden him?

Answer me!‖

―He‘s in a monastery with the Serim,‖ I said. ―It‘s warded against others. No one can find it but another Serim. You can‘t get to him.‖

He reached for my hair and before I could jerk away, knotted his fist in my hair and dragged me forward. I stifled the cry of pain that arose in my throat, knowing that it would bring him far too much pleasure. ―Well, my little whore,‖ he said, his mouth pressing close to my face

– so close that his spittle flecked my cheek. ―If you‘ve just crawled from his bed, I suspect he‘ll be showing up here sooner rather than later.‖

―He won‘t,‖ I said quickly, taking a small pleasure in being able to thwart Aloysius in this. ―I didn‘t tell him where I went. I left in the middle of the night and took the phone with me.

He‘ll never know where I am.‖

His fingernails dug into my scalp, and I winced at the needle-sharpness, felt the blood trickling down my scalp as his razor-sharp fingernails cut my skin. ―You little bitch. You did that on purpose, didn‘t you? You think you can control me?‖

―No,‖ I said truthfully, avoiding his gaze. ―But I can protect David from your perversity.

And I will.‖

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He shoved my head against the arm of his throne-like chair, cracking my forehead against the wood. Pain shattered through my skull and the world spun in a circle of red and black. The skin on my forehead had split and throbbed with pain, gushing blood down my face. I didn‘t lose consciousness – I couldn‘t, but I felt a curious sort of dread even as I wiped the blood off my face. I knew it would make him hungry, and I didn‘t want to feed him.

His hand grasped my hair again, raking the blood-spattered tangles away from my face.

―Look at me, Olivia.‖

I grudgingly turned my gaze to him, hating this. Hating him. Hating everything. This was what it had been like being his slave. Nothing that I did was of my own volition – all my movements were entirely at his disposal, and I loathed it – and him. And myself for not being able to resist.

He ran a finger along my cheek, down the blood that ran down my face, and then put the fingertip in his mouth. ―So sweet. I always forget how sweet my little succubus tastes.‖ He looked at me in an almost tender way, dragging his hand through my hair again. ―Now, Olivia, I do think David will come after you. He‘s a good man, remember? You may have known him for a short time, but I have known him for millennia.‖

I bit my lip. I prayed it wasn‘t true.

―But until he arrives, we can have a little fun, can‘t we?‖ He tilted his head and gave me a mocking smile. ―Beg me to drink from you. Beg me to take your throat.‖

Hatred burned in my stomach. I clenched my hands with furious, helpless anger. He knew what to do to push me – to break me. To make me realize I had no will but his own. The words came automatically out of my mouth, even as I hated myself with every fiber of my being 89

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for not being able to resist. ―Please, master,‖ I gritted, desperation welling inside me. ―Take my throat.‖

―Beg me again,‖ he said. ―I do so like hearing you beg.‖

He made me beg for a long time, knowing how much I hated it. Made me kiss his feet and his hands in supplication, and then when he tired of seeing my stiff responses, pulled me into his lap and tore at my throat. Aloysius had never been a clean blood-drinker – he liked to make huge, nasty wounds with his teeth and tonight was no exception. After all, he didn‘t have to worry about hurting me.

I ignored the pain, going to a different place in my head. Thinking of lying in bed with David, our limbs tangled together, watching the sun rise, knowing that I would have another day of sunlight and his wonderful presence at my side.

I thought of that even after Aloysius pushed me off his lap. ―I‘m tired,‖ he announced.

―Mark her up. I want to see her bloody when night falls again.‖

And just like that, he passed me to his minions to whip.

#

The whip hissed against my skin for the hundredth time that long, unending day. The windows were covered, so I had no idea what time it was, but that didn‘t matter anymore. I was stuck. I‘d willingly given myself to hell to protect David. And how stupid was I? I‘d failed miserably, all because I‘d tried to go through a damn window instead of the front door.

But…I‘d do it again to save him.

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I thought of David, of the last night that we‘d spent together, curled in each other‘s arms, our faces pressed so close in the bed that his breath mingled with mine.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you like to go?”
he‘d asked me.

I‘d shrugged, unsure what to say. I didn‘t know what to say. No one asked me where I wanted to go – what I wanted to do. I‘d never given it much thought.

His smile was like warmth on my skin as he brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes.

“There must be someplace you would like to go,”
he‘d said.
“Rome? Paris?”
I‘d been to both. Hated them both because I‘d spent it at Aloysius‘s side.
“I don’t know,”
I‘d told him.
Anywhere you go,
I‘d wanted to say. But I didn‘t. So I said nothing
.

“I was looking at a map in the library,”
he‘d said in an excited voice.
“The world is so
different now. I wonder what the changes are like – what marvels there are to be seen. Did you
know they finished that tower in Paris?”

“The Eiffel Tower?”
I‘d replied thoughtfully.
“Do you want to see it?”
His hand had caressed mine.
“Only if you do.”
The whip cracked over my tattered back once more, and I wondered if he would go and see Paris without me. I hoped he would. I thought of his handsome face, silvery eyes lit up with wonder as he stared up at the Eiffel Tower, the sun shining behind him.

Crack!

The whip sizzled across my skin again, and I bit down on my lip again. I‘d bitten it so many times that it was likely as mangled as my back, but I wouldn‘t give Aloysius or his lackeys the satisfaction of hearing me scream. The man whipping me left the room, shutting the door behind him, and I stretched in the handcuffs. My hands were tied over my head, leaving my back 91

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arched and exposed, my t-shirt in tatters, my bra close to it. It hung together by a mere thread.

But the holy water was still tucked safely under my breasts, and it gave me a bit of hope.

―Has she cried out?‖ said a voice, muffled on the other side of the door.

―Not yet,‖ said the man with the whip. ―She has incredible control.‖

No
, I thought.
She is just really, really fucking stubborn and has played Aloysius’s games
for over a hundred years.
I knew this wasn‘t the real punishment – this was the warm-up.

Aloysius was going to think up something very special –and awful – to punish me for running away. This was just to keep his goons entertained while he slept. I‘d save my screaming for then.

―Pull her down,‖ the other man said. ―Aloysius is awake and wants her.‖

I stiffened.
Wants her
could mean anything. Sex – which I hated but would endure – or torture, or something else. Anything else. I‘d learned not to anticipate his moods or his thoughts.

The men moved to me and pulled me down, unhooking the handcuffs from where I‘d been strung to a hook from the ceiling. I sagged to the ground as they released me – no one moved to catch me. Probably too scared of Aloysius.

―Get up,‖ the man said in a hard voice. ―The master wants you in the main room.‖

I ignored his command and remained where I was. ―Tell the master to come and fucking get me, then.‖

The man‘s face mottled with anger, but he didn‘t backhand me. Instead, he grabbed me by the arm and hauled me bodily down the hall and into the main hall.

The room was full of people once more, dressed as they had been the night before.

Aloysius lounged in his chair, perking up at the sight of me, bloody and bruised. The men removed my cuffs and dropped me at his feet.

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―Well, don‘t you smell delicious?‖ He said, running his fingers down my back and leaving a sharp stab of pain in its place.

I batted his hand away, hating the revulsion that crawled through me.

He kicked me with a heavy boot. Fire spread along my back as I landed on my raw wounds. ―Ah, Olivia. I have missed you all these years. We shall have a great time trying to catch up, shall we? I‘ve brought some of your favorite toys along.‖

He held out a goblet and shook it at me. Small metal things clinked inside it, and I felt a quiver of fear in my stomach. Razor blades. His favorite game.

I swallowed hard.

―But first,‖ he said, and waved a careless hand at me. ―Fix me a drink. You know the way I like it.‖

I did know the way he liked it – he liked a goblet of wine spiked with my blood. I trembled for a moment, thinking about the holy water in my bra. The compulsion dragged me to my feet and turned me automatically to the wet bar, and I moved like a jerky automaton, my limbs quivering with exhaustion but unable to resist. No one paid attention to me, though, and I methodically moved behind the bar, reaching for bottles. Aloysius liked Scotch mixed with a heavy dose of my blood, because he knew it bothered me. So I poured the scotch, neat, and then sliced my palm with a nearby knife, letting the blood pour into the cup.

I glanced up as I bled into the glass. Aloysius was playing with one of his human pets, fingering her hair as she stared up at him with a blankly adoring look on her face. It made me sick. As I watched them, I reached into my tattered bra and retrieved the holy water, uncorking it with shaking, bloody fingers. Any moment now, someone would see what I was doing. They would stop me, and then my punishment would be severe.

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But no one stopped me. A few people wandered in and out of the room, laughing and talking. The one closest to the bar rubbed her forehead, as if she had a headache, and slipped out the back door. She was quickly followed by another man, and then another. No one was paying the slightest bit of attention to me – which was perfect. I tossed the vial aside and stirred the scotch until it blended. Keeping my face carefully neutral, I moved back across the room and offered it to Aloysius. He didn‘t reach for it, so I placed it at the table beside him as he stroked and petted the woman that clung to his knees.

He gave me a dismissive look as I turned to leave, hoping to sneak away before my deception was found out. He pushed the human woman away, and she scuttled to the back of the room. Aloysius leaned forward in his chair. ―Stop.‖

I halted, hating him with every fiber of my being.

―Come and lick my feet, Olivia. Show me your appreciation.‖

Fury rushed through me, even as I knelt on the floor and began to remove his shoes. I wanted to rip his black heart out. My hands were rough as I tore his boot off, exposing one smooth, corpse-pale foot. Compelled, I fought with every fiber of my being even as I knelt over his foot and touched my tongue to the arch of it, shuddering at the taste.