Collateral Damage (23 page)

"Can you . . . ?" Lacy glanced at the door and skimmed her bottom lip with her teeth. "I should—"

"Go. I'll manage." I gasped as Vince's tongue pressed into the cut. "Can you leave the candle?"

"Yeah." She blinked when Vince let out a low growl. "Are you . . . ah . . . yeah.

Just—just don't let him kill you. That would be bad."

Ya think?
I waved her away. As soon as she was gone, I combed my fingers through Vince's hair—the only part of him I could reach. "You'll have to bite me to get more, Vince. The wound isn't deep enough for you to—"

His tongue pushed harder, sliding back and forth until I could feel my skin stretching. The sensation made me whimper, and I did my best to swallow the sound.

"Please, Vince." I gave his hair a gentle tug. "You're hurting me."

He groaned and opened his mouth wide. His fangs dug into the cut, but didn't pierce my flesh. It was as though he didn't have the strength to bite down.

"Shit." What the hell was I supposed to do now? If only Lacy had made a deeper cut—but then again, she'd probably been worried about me bleeding to death. And maybe figured a taste would be enough to get Vince's instincts to kick in.

It had, but clearly he needed some help.

I put my hand on the back of his head, pushing him down while jabbing my thigh up against his fangs as hard as I could. His fangs penetrated and ripped all at once. My leg spasmed, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Counted until the blazing pain subsided.

And felt Vince latch onto my skin and start to suck.

A few swallows and he took over, stabbing his fangs in deep. The pain changed.

Spread out and blossomed into something sweet that sent shivers of pleasure up my body. He pushed himself up on his elbow and wrapped his hand around my upper thigh, massaging the muscles as he drew long and hard from my vein.

My vision grew foggy. I petted his hair, a little drunk with arousal and blood loss. But I didn't have it in me to stop him. He could drain me, and I'd be . . . content.

Vince lifted his head, and his fingers dug into my flesh. "Nicole? Nicole, speak to me!"

"Shh." I pillowed my head on my arm and smiled at him. "I'm right here."

"I can't see you!"

The panic in his tone flushed the languor from my body. I tried to sit up, but he held on to my leg, so I stayed where I was. "Vince, feel me. I'm with you."

"Why . . . ?" He turned his head and squinted with his good eye. He brought one hand up to his face and touched the bandage. "Fuck! No . . . .
No!
"

"I'm sorry." Seeing the impact of his loss hurt worse than him tearing into my flesh. I couldn't fix this. Couldn't make it okay. "I'm so sorry."

"You . . . what did they do to you?"

"Nothing." Compared to what they'd done to him anyway. I'd get past the shame and humiliation. Cyrus had scarred him for eternity. "Vince, listen to me. You'll be okay. You stood up to Cyrus. You're stronger than him, and that's why he did this.

Because he can't control you."

"Yes." Vince dropped his head to my knee and hugged my calf. He closed his eye, and one tear spilled. He burrowed his face into the crook of my knee. "I must tell you . . . ."

He drew something in the dirt. My brow furrowed as I read it. The words "I lied."

I lied?
About what? And how could he write that if he couldn't read? Was that what he'd lied about—No. Couldn't be. There's no way he'd pretend ignorance for my benefit. But, suddenly, he could write, and that had to mean something. And the words meant more.

He'd told Cyrus he'd done nothing. That must be it. And since I didn't know
what
he'd done, he must feel guilty about leaving me in the dark.

But since Cyrus could read me so easily, I couldn't blame Vince for that. I strained to reach his hand and held it when he let me.

"I know." I smiled, even though I knew he couldn't see it. I hoped he heard it in my tone. "I trust you. That's all the truth we need."

Chapter Nineteen

Soft, golden light filtered through my closed lids. I woke and saw an elegant, brass candelabrum placed on the floor in front of me by a silver tray bearing a bowl, a mug, and a thermos.

The shackle had been removed.

And Vince was gone.

Dressed in one of his uniform designer suits, Cyrus sat beside me and drew me up to sit between his thighs. He propped me against his bent knee and then picked up the bowl.

I stiffened against him, not sure what to make of his behavior. When he brought a spoon full of oatmeal to my lips, I opened my mouth, afraid that the food might be poisoned, but more afraid of what he'd do if I refused.

"Relax. I'm here to take care of you." He scooped up more oatmeal. "Say 'Thank you, Cyrus.'"

Relax? Are you serious?
"Where's Vince?"

He made a circular motion with the spoon. "Not far I suspect."

"What have you done?"

"Done?" He cocked his head and smiled. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You're in a good mood, which usually means something awful is going to happen. Or has happened." I worried my inner lip with my teeth. "Where is he?"

"Don't you worry about him." Brow arched, he held up the spoon. "Now eat."

I let him feed me, and then sat quietly as he poured me a cup of coffee from the tray on the floor. His being so nice and considerate was freaking me out. But I wasn't ready to do anything to make him stop.

Which meant "Tell me what you've done to Vince or else" was out. There was no

"or else." And I couldn't very well help Vince while I was being beaten or raped.

"Thank you," I said when he handed me the cup. Holding it with my good hand, I took a sip, carefully going over all the ways I could get him to talk without pissing him off. Another gulp burnt my lips, but I managed to ignore the pain and smile. "This is very good."

"You're adorable when you're like this." He combed my hair away from my face, fine creases forming around his eyes as he studied my face. "Trying so hard to say the right thing while inside you're telling me to go fuck myself."

Why bother trying to say the right thing then?
I nodded slowly and decided to just go for it. "Please tell me where he is."

"I told you not to worry about him."

"We both know that's not going to happen."

"Then you're not as smart as I thought you were." He folded his hands behind his neck, relaxed against the wall, and blew a strand of wavy, black hair from his face. "You should be considering all the ways you can make me happy. Vince isn't in a position to keep you safe anymore. But I can. Give me what you gave him, and I will make sure what happened last night never happens again."

I wanted to say no. Everything inside me screamed the word. But I knew things would go badly if I did.

"What about Lacy?"

"What about her?" He laughed. "You think I can't handle you both?"

Being one of his women shouldn't have appealed to me. On any level. But I was almost tempted. Being his would give me a certain amount of freedom. Freedom I could use to get Alrik out of here.

And what about Vince?

He'd leave
me
for Alrik. I'd never forgive him if he didn't try.

"And he won't forgive you if you don't." Cyrus finished my thoughts for me, lips curving into a smirk as I stared at him. "You're getting sloppy with your thoughts, my dear."

I'm so fucked.
I blinked and shook my head. "I—"

"I'm not angry, Nicole. Not yet." He leaned forward and reached out to toy with a strand of my hair. "More . . . curious than anything. What do you see in him? He's hurt you as much—if not more—than I have."

"Because of you." I crawled backwards, away from him, almost falling over as pain spiked up from my swollen hand. I snarled over a sob. "Everything he did to me was because of you."

"Ah. I see." He unfolded from the floor and brushed the dirt from his black pants.

"You've made him into another victim in your mind. I am to blame for everything. I forced him to rape you, and hit you, and make you into his pet. He had no choice in the matter."

"It's the truth." I cradled my hand between my breasts and drew up my knees to hide myself from his as much as I could. "Don't bother denying it."

"Why would I? You've done such a good job of convincing yourself he's on your side." He tugged at his sleeves and rolled his shoulders back. "I offered you to him. He could have refused, but I knew he wouldn't. You remind him of a teacher he had as a boy. One he fell in love with. One who 'betrayed' him with me. Rather than continue serving as a guard, he took on the task of training you. Of making you his in a way she never was. And, I must say, he did a damned good job."

Cyrus wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know. But hearing it spelled out so plainly was different. I reminded myself of everything Vince had done helped me survive. And he
was
on my side. How things had started off didn't matter.

"Are you getting to a point?"

His eyes widened a little as he let out a sharp laugh. "I haven't seen nearly enough of it, but I do admire your spunk. Women usually shut down after being fucked by a stranger with a bottle, but not you! You locked that away with your first rape and the gang bang. I wonder . . . ."

As he strode forward, I scuttled backwards, but he was too fast. Suddenly, I was on my feet, trapped against the wall with my jaw held firm in his hand.

"What would it take to scar you? Watching your friend getting murdered didn't do it—you simply latched onto Alrik and decided you needed to hold it together to save him. You could probably be raped for days and bounce right back." His narrow gaze burned into mine, and the tips of his fingers grated the insides of my cheeks against my teeth. "Maybe if I forced you to watch that little boy being torn apart—"

"No." Tears welled up. I'd gone too far. "You can't—"

"I can. But I won't. He serves a different purpose, and I won't waste him on you."

He released me and watched me as I slid down the wall, clutching my stomach as it wrung tight with fear. What was I doing? Pushing him didn't do Vince or Alrik any good. If there'd ever been a time for me to swallow my pride, this was it.

I pushed up to my knees. "Cyrus, please—"

The back of his hand cut across my face. He jerked my head back with a hand in my hair. "Don't you dare. Vincent wouldn't accept fake submission. Do you think I will?"

"It won't be fake!"

"Really? Then let's try something. What if I told you, right now, Vince is out in the woods being hunted by some of my guests who paid good money to have a go at him? He's half-blind, but experienced enough living in the wild to give them a good chase. What if I gave you the choice of either joining him or staying and showing me what a good, little submissive you can be? What would you choose?"

I pictured Vince, reaching for his lost eye, how broken he'd looked when he'd realized it was gone. Then I saw him, fumbling around in the dark, learning to cope with half his vision while the animals who'd attended the party the night before tracked him. Did it really matter how experienced he was?

And how exactly are you going to help him?

I had to try. But . . . .

"What about Alrik?"

"He's playing air hockey with Darryl. And will continue to do so no matter what you decide."

What if you die out there?

"They won't kill you. They placed a deposit on Vince just in case, but that doesn't cover you."

A deposit?
My throat locked. Like they cared about losing a bit of money.

"So?"

I slid up the wall and looked up into his expectant face. "You already knew what I'd decide."

"Yes." He ran his thumb under my bottom lip and then licked a drop of my blood off it. "But it was fun to see how many different ways you'd try to talk yourself out of going. Took you longer than I thought it would. Poor Vince."

"You're sick."

"So they say." He tipped my chin up with his finger and laid a soft kiss on my bottom lip. "You be careful out there. I don't want my property damaged."

"Are you going to give me some clothes?"

"No, but I will give you this." He dipped his hand into his pocket and then pressed something into my palm. "Drink it all up, and I'll bring you outside."

I glanced down and my stomach dropped. "But—"

"This isn't a free ride, Nicole." Cyrus stepped back and folded his arms over his chest. "You didn't think I'd make it easy, did you?"

Had I? Was I that stupid?

"Drink, and you can go to him. Or don't. I'm sure he'll do fine without you."

Maybe . . . but are you willing to risk it?

Shaking my head, I uncorked the vial, and then drained it in a gulp.

Chapter Twenty

The canvas sack slung over my shoulder rhythmically thunked my hip as I wove through the trees, following a trill of laughter from the hunting party. Sweat slicked my flesh, and I had to fight not to throw myself on the ground to find some relief with my fingers. Ignoring my body's needs was painful, but focusing on moving forward helped, as did absorbing the pain of my damp thighs chaffing as I ran. I pictured the route Cyrus had traced on the map he hadn't let me keep as I skirted further downwind, careful to keep out of sight. His instruction played over in my head.

"They're headed northeast. They'll try to trap Vince in the mountains where it's more
difficult to maneuver and his handicap will be a serious disadvantage."

Shifting uncomfortably, all too aware of Cyrus' hot body so close to mine, I whispered.

"How do you know that?"

"I suggested it." He put his fingers over my lips before I could comment on how fucking
helpful he was. "Save it. Now listen. They will cut a straight path through here, following the
river upstream. If you stay on the other side of the river, downwind, they won't sense you.