Ensnared: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance (2 page)

“Fucking little thief.”

Antoine threw me into the alley behind the club. I landed on
my hands and knees. A few seconds later, my backpack hit the asphalt beside me.

I pushed my way back to my feet, grabbed the backpack and
wobbled down the alley as fast as I could on those frigging high heels.

One hundred thousand dollars.

I had only gone a few yards when my ankle twisted. It was
too much. Hot tears pricked my eyes. I dropped the backpack, leaned against the
chain link fence that ran down one side of the alley and pressed my balled
fists into my stomach.

WhatamIgoingtodo? WhatamIgoingtodo?

A hundred thousand dollars? I couldn’t raise that much money
in ten years, let alone by tomorrow. And the hell of it was, the money was
nothing to Oakley. He took in four or five times that every night.

One thing was sure: I had to get the hell out of Baltimore. They
might think they could catch me, but I was good at hiding. And I’d be damned if
I’d make it easy for them.

But God, I’d have to leave my paintings behind. And the last
of my art supplies.

Tears dripped down my face. I gulped and wrapped my arms
around my abdomen.

Deep breath, Star. Now another.

I was so focused on holding it together that I didn’t hear anything
until a shadow fell across my feet.

I jerked and snapped upright. It was
him
. The watcher
from the club.

“What the—?” I looked around, wild-eyed. “How did you know I
was out here?”

“I followed you.”

I blinked. “Yeah? Well, good for you. Now get the hell out
of here.” Without taking my gaze from him, I bent down and felt for my pepper
spray in the front pocket of my backpack.

He raised a hand. “Star. Calm down—I want only to help.”

I palmed the canister. “I don’t need your kind of help.”

His gaze went to the pepper spray. “I wouldn’t do that if I
were you.”

I froze. Something in his voice made me want to obey.

I shook myself.
The hell with that.
I turned the
nozzle, unlocking the spray. “Go. Away.” I held the cannister out with a
shaking hand. “Or I’ll spray this in your fucking eyes. I swear I will.”

He stepped back and considered me like I was an interesting
puzzle. “Calm yourself,” he said in a low tone that stroked over my nerves like
velvet. “I want only to speak with you. You’re upset. Calm down and listen to
me. I promise, I mean you no harm.”

I brought the pepper spray down to my side. I might as well
hear the man out. Even if I sprayed him, he had me cornered, because a silver limo
had stopped at the end of the alley, blocking the entrance.

“Okay.” I gulped in a breath. “Talk.”

He stepped a little closer and examined my face. His black
eyes flashed. “The bastards damaged you.”

I moved a shoulder.

“Was it Oakley?”

I pressed my lips together. Snitching would just make it
worse. Besides, what could he do?

“Tell me.” A cold, hard voice.

Our gazes snagged. His eyes bored into mine. Once again, I
felt that strange urge to obey him.

I wrenched my gaze from his and rested my throbbing cheek
against the fence’s chilly metal circles. “Just go away. Please.”

The hiss of breath made my nape tighten. He touched my face
with a single finger, but somehow my head turned so I was looking right into
his eyes. “
Tell me
.”

“Antoine. There, are you happy?” I pushed his hand away. “It
was fucking Antoine.”

“And Oakley? Does he know?”

A bark of laughter escaped my throat. “Who do you think gave
the order? He was right there watching.”

“I see.” His elegant jaw worked. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll
give you the money,
ma petite
.”

“Who said anything about money?”

“I heard what happened. I know you need money—right away.”

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t care if you’re rich as
God. Why the hell would you give me money?”

His gaze went to my cheek. “Let’s say I hate to see marks on
such a pretty little thing.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’d never be able to—”

He sliced a hand, cutting me off. “How much?”

I pressed my lips together and then shrugged. “A hundred
thousand.” Like he would give me that much.

“Very well.” He whipped out a cell phone and I listened, open-mouthed,
as he directed that a hundred thousand dollars be sent to Oakley’s account in
my name. He ended the call and looked at me. “There. He will have the money
within an hour.”

“Jesus.” I gaped at him. “I can’t let you do that. There’s
no way I can pay you back.”

“It is done.”

“You’re serious.”

“You will learn I’m not a joking man.”

“I—.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say. Except I’ll
pay you back. I swear I will. I don’t know how, but I will.”

His gaze fastened on my mouth. He inhaled slowly. “You’re
bleeding.”

I swiped my free hand over my mouth and looked at the smear
of blood, then back at him. My heart pounded: slow, hard beats. Suspicion
sprouted, grew roots. He was staring so intently at that faint red smear.

Without taking my gaze from his, I rubbed my hand on my
skirt.

“I have a way for you to pay me back,” he murmured. “And it
will only take you a month.”

My mouth twisted. I should’ve known there was a catch. “I’ll
bet you do. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Would it be so bad?” He stepped closer.

My heart kicked into high gear. I tightened my grip on the
pepper spray at my side.

“Become a courtesan.” That deep, velvety tone again. “
My
courtesan.”

“Your
what
?”

“My courtesan. I promise, I’ll treat you like a princess.”

I shook my head. Nobody talked like that anymore. Except—
oh,
Lord.
Those eyes, the way I’d never seen him in full daylight.

The interest in my blood.

His tongue swiped over his lips and I caught the glint of
sharp white teeth.

The pepper spray fell to the pavement with a small thunk. “You’re
a vampire,” I said flatly.

I don’t know why it took me so long to figure it out. But people
like me don’t run into vampires. They’re dark, dangerous, rich—and I mean
Bill-Gates-rich. Give someone hundreds of years to invest, and pretty much
anyone can get wealthy. But vamps are reclusive, and most of them could care
less about humans.

Except when they need to feed.

He inclined his head. “I am.”

 “And you mean a blood courtesan.” The shadow world of
vampires existed alongside the humans, but mostly we left each other alone. Except
the vamps needed blood—and they loved sex. Combine the two, and it gave them a
high like drugs for a human. “Me.”

“
Oui
.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips.
“I’ll make it good for you, Star. I swear. All you have to give me is one
month. Is that so bad?”

He brushed his mouth over the inside of my wrist. His lips
were firm and cool. A zing went straight up my arm.

I tugged my hand from his, but damn, I was tempted. Because
vampire or no, he was the hottest man I’d ever met. And a month wasn’t so long…

But a blood courtesan? I shook my head. “No.”

To my surprise, he didn’t argue. “It is your choice, Star. You
can pay me the cash if you prefer. I’ll give you a year, and I won’t charge
interest. No one can say I’m not a fair man.”

Like hell.
This was anything but fair, and we both
knew it.

I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to see a way out of
this.

But there wasn’t. I couldn’t come up with a hundred thousand
dollars in a year. Probably not even ten years.

It was either a month with this man—
this vampire
—or I’d
have to leave Baltimore for good. Even with the money I’d made the past week, I’d
have less than five hundred dollars to travel on—and in a year, the vampire would
come looking for me.

And somehow I had a feeling he’d find me.

I moistened my lips. The vampire’s gaze went to my mouth,
lingered.

“I’ll throw in a bonus,” he added.

I shook my head, but I was weakening. “I don’t even know
your name.”

“I beg your pardon.” He gave a small, courtly bow. “I am
called Remy de la Lune.”

Remy of the Moon.
How appropriate. I wondered when
he’d last seen the sunlight. I had a feeling it hadn’t been for a long, long
time.

“And I’m Star Salazar. But you know that.”

He inclined his head. “
Enchant
é
,
mademoiselle
.”

We stared at each other. A few yards away an alley cat
snarled, and on a nearby street a car accelerated with a roar, but here in the
alley it was quiet, the two of us illuminated by a single streetlight.

“So?” the vampire prompted. “What is your decision?”

“A month? You swear that’s it? No tricks or hidden clauses?”

His eyes flashed in the gloom. “You doubt my word?”

“Not exactly”—well I was, actually, but it seemed smart not
to insult him—“but I need to know what I’m agreeing to.” I was damned if I was
going to let a vampire railroad me into a lifetime in thrall to him.

He stepped closer and set a hand on the fence beside my
head. With the other, he stroked the side of my throat. My pulse jumped, and
his smile deepened. The S.O.B. knew I was a lot more uncertain—and afraid—than
I was letting on.

His face was just inches from mine. I inhaled shakily and
was surprised to find he smelled good: dark, earthy male.

“One month,” he said. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”

I swallowed. “Thirty days?”

“Thirty days,” he agreed. “We will sign a contract.”

“And you’ll throw in a bonus?”

He inclined his head. “At the end of that time, if you
satisfy me, you’ll receive a bonus of fifty thousand dollars.”

My eyes widened.
Fifty thousand?
I’d been thinking more
along the lines of five thousand, if that much.

“But during that month, you will be completely mine. You
will live in my home, obey me in all things. Cater only to me.”

His mouth was against my throat now. I felt the scrape of
fangs. My head swam with a dark mixture of fear and excitement.

“Is that clear?”

I gripped the fence. “I’m not sure about that ‘obey me’
thing.”

Remy stilled—and then he laughed. It was an odd, rusty sound,
as if it had been years since his vocal cords had known amusement.

“All right,” he said. “That one is negotiable. Now enough.
Say yes.” His hard body pressed against mine, and God help me, it was exciting in
a primal way.

My fingers tightened on the chain links. “Yes,” I whispered,
and then again in a stronger voice, “Yes.”

Fangs pricked my throat.

I swallowed hard, but made myself stay frozen in place.

“So sweet,” Remy murmured. “So very sweet.”

I closed my eyes and waited tensely for him to feed. But he
just pressed a kiss to the soft underside of my jaw. His lips were cool and
firm. A tiny zing went through me. My nipples pricked and heat pooled in my
lower belly.

“Not here,” he said against my skin. “But soon.”

I shivered, and he squeezed my shoulders. “Don’t be so
scared. It will be good for you, I promise.”

“I’m not scared,” I replied automatically. Because I
wasn’t—or at least, it wasn’t
just
fear.  I was wary and aroused and
curious, too.

“
Non
?” He scrutinized me and then with a small shrug,
said, “Of course you aren’t.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go then.”

I got my backpack and gave him my hand. He kissed the back
of it, a light butterfly touch, and then led me down the alley to the limo. A man
in a dark suit who looked like an escapee from an MMA ring got out on the
passenger side and opened the back door for us.

I set one foot in the limo and halted, hand on the doorframe,
looking from the chauffeur to the MMA look-alike to Remy. Three men—all of whom
looked like they could snap my neck without breaking a sweat—and me.

Suddenly fear was my chief emotion. My lungs constricted.
What
was I doing?
This man was a
vampire
—and I was about to go off with
him and his two goons.

I gripped the doorframe and looked wildly around.

“It is your choice.” Remy’s voice was even. “Until you sign
the contract, you can change your mind. This I swear to you on my honor as a de
la Lune.”

“Right.” I expelled a breath and, reminding myself that I
had no choice, got inside.

As the chauffeur eased the limo onto the street, Remy spoke
to the large man riding shotgun. “Malik? You have directed that Oakley be
paid?”

“
Oui, monsieur.
He should have the money by now.”

“Text the information to Star as well. You have her number,
oui
?”

Malik nodded and took out his phone.

While they were talking, I looked through my backpack. Antoine
had rifled through it, but he hadn’t taken anything. My fingers closed on my
cell phone like it was a lifeline. At least I could call 911 if things got bad.
Sure, the police were no match for a vampire, but I was pretty sure there was
some kind of human-vampire treaty that meant Remy would be in deep shit if he
killed a cop.

My companion raised a single black brow. “Calm yourself,
Star. For the last time, you aren’t in any danger.”

My face heated, but I didn’t release my grip on the phone. “What
are you, a mind reader?”

Remy shrugged and changed the subject. “You won’t need to go
home,” he said, looking me up and down with a practiced eye. He was too polite
to say anything, but you didn’t have to be a genius to know my outfit wasn’t up
to his standards. “I will supply everything you need.”

“But what about my apartment?” I had a deal with my landlords
where I paid cash in return for a fifty-dollar reduction on the rent. “I can’t
just leave for thirty days. I have to pay my rent on June first. If I don’t, I’ll
lose everything.”

Remy waved a long-fingered hand. “Contact your landlords.
Tell them they will be paid as usual.”

I called Jim, the more laidback of the couple. It was after
two in the morning, so he didn’t answer, but I left a message explaining I had
a job offer that was taking me away for a month.

“I’ll make sure you get the June rent,” I promised with a glance
at Remy. He nodded, and I continued, “Just please leave everything where it is.”

That taken care of, I put the phone back into my pack. I
didn’t care about my things so much as the paintings. They represented months
of work. I didn’t just paint, I glued objects to the canvas, ripped up photos
and attached them here and there. The result was big, crazy-colored paintings—each
at least a yard high and a couple of yards across. Someday I was going to get
up the courage to show them to a gallery owner.

“First, the contract,” Remy said. “That will make you feel
safer, yes?”

“It will—thank you.” The tension in my shoulders eased a
bit.

Our first stop was outside an elegant brick town house in
Bolton Hill. Remy led the way up the steps. The interior was huge, with those
pre-war details that people love: high ceilings, hardwood floors, arched
windows and a marble fireplace in the large front room where Remy took me.

A tall blonde who could’ve doubled for Samantha from
Sex
in the City
rose to greet us. I took in her perfect hair, perfect makeup
and sexy little champagne-colored dress, and smoothed down my skirt, feeling
like the thrift-shop refugee I was.

The blonde gave Remy her hand. He pressed a kiss to the back
like he had to mine, but I noticed he released it quickly.

“You are looking well, Madame Angelique.”

She inclined her head and turned to me. “This is Miss
Salazar?”

“Yes,” he said, and introduced us, adding, “The contract is
ready?”

Angelique frowned. “This is most irregular, Monsieur de la
Lune.”

I looked from her to Remy. What did she mean?

“You know how it works,” Angelique continued. “
I
find
the girls, and I vet them and send them to our clients.”

He quirked a single black brow. “But for me, you will make
an exception,
oui
?”

She pursed her lips. “It will cost you.”

“No matter. Do it, or I will be most unhappy.”

At the steel in his tone, she stilled. “Of course, sir.”

The vampire turned to me. “I will leave you with Madame Angelique
now so that she can explain the terms to you. This is acceptable?”

I nodded. Right then I would’ve agreed to almost anything. I
half-believed I was dreaming. From the moment I’d been accused of stealing in
Oakley’s office, things had gotten stranger and stranger. The silver limo. The
money Remy was willing to pay for me. The expensive blonde in her expensive row
home.

And Remy de la Lune himself. The rich, powerful vamp who was
so desperate to have me.

I’d crossed my arms over my stomach to calm my uneasiness.
Now I pinched my upper arm through the white shirt just to see if I would wake
up in my attic on the east side.

But nothing happened except that Remy left the room, leaving
me with Angelique.

“Why don’t you sit down?” She gestured at a pink brocade
couch.

As I took a seat, I winced. Now that the adrenaline had worn
off, I was feeling every blow Antoine had landed.

Angelique glanced at my swollen cheek and murmured, “I’ll be
right back.” She returned a minute later with a gel ice pack. “I’m not going to
ask if Remy did that,” she said, “because while he might be a cold S.O.B., I’ve
never known him to hit a woman.”

I pressed the ice pack to my cheek. The throbbing eased a
little and I gave a sigh of relief. “No,” I replied. “It wasn’t him.”

“Good. I wouldn’t think so, but he wants you—bad. And when
Remy de la Lune wants something, he gets it. He’s lord of the largest clan in
France, you know. A vampire count. He rules over five covens.”

“No. I didn’t know that.”

A frigging vampire count?
Okay, this was officially
Alice
in Wonderland
and I’d fallen down the rabbit hole.

Madam Angelique took a seat on the opposite side of the
couch. “There is something I will ask. De la Lune—he hasn’t put a compulsion on
you?”

“A compulsion?” My nape prickled. “You mean—forced me?”

“Yes or no?”

“No.” I shifted the ice pack to another part of my face. “I
mean—I can’t be sure, can I? But he said it was my choice.”

She gave a satisfied nod. “Then he hasn’t compelled you. I
wouldn’t trust any vampire when he’s after a blood courtesan, but Remy’s honest—at
least for a vampire. If he said it was your choice, then it’s true.”

“What’s a compulsion?”

“Some vampires—the older, more powerful ones—can compel you
to do their will.”

“And he’s one of those?”

“Remy de la Lune is one of the oldest and most powerful vampires
in the world.”

Somehow that didn’t surprise me. I recalled that first morning
when I’d felt his will beating against mine. And again tonight, when he’d
forced me to calm down—although that had been for my own good. Still, I didn’t
like the idea of him playing mind games with me.

“I’m pretty sure he’s tried it once or twice,” I said. “But not
when he asked me to be his courtesan.”

“Good. Frankly, vampires prefer their woman—or man—willing. It
affects your taste.”

“My…taste?” I swallowed dryly.

“Yes. They tell me every human has a slightly different
flavor—and a vamp never forgets any of you. Remy knew from your scent that you
and he would be a good match.” She smiled, not unkindly. “Don’t look so scared.
Remy will make sure you enjoy it. Most women tell me they’d have stayed with
him longer, but a month is the most he ever books a courtesan. Now”—she stood
up and got two thick sheets from her desk—“here’s the contract. One for you,
and one for Count de la Lune.”

She kept speaking, and I nodded as if I were paying
attention, but I was staring at the contract, handwritten on ivory parchment
paper. The words danced before my eyes, but as far as I could tell it covered
everything Remy and I had discussed: the money he’d paid for me, the bonus if I
pleased him. In return, I was completely his for the next thirty days.

And then I was holding my copy of the contract in my hand. I
must have signed it because there was my signature, and a minute later, when Remy
returned, his bold scrawl beneath mine.

But I was still taking in the fact that I was prey. Something
to be tasted—hunted.

And instead of running as hard as I could in the opposite
direction, I’d just signed a contract with the hunter.