“Not particularly,” he said. “Likewise, I doubt you were concerned about your own appeal, Ms. Devereaux.”
“Please, call me Angeline.”
“Angeline.” He rolled the word through his mouth, as if to explore its shape. She forgot to breathe for a moment. He saw it, and his smile widened. “Very well, Angeline. You may call me Steffen.”
Angie put down her glass and mirrored his posture, resting her forearms on the table and leaning toward him. “Shall we begin negotiations?”
“Let’s.”
His body shifted. A sense of power emanated from him, not supernatural, but rather the charisma and intent of an animal cornering its prey. As though nothing she did would escape him, not the smallest twitch of skin or the faintest stir of breath, and certainly not the way her heart again changed its rhythm.
“First,” she said, “I understand your control has limits. I won’t do anything foolish. No silver. No stakes. But I will try to hurt you. I will not play fair, and I will not hold back, because I’ll be fighting for my life. You will terrify me into mindless instinct. You’ll get a real hunt.”
He went still. “Go on.”
“You may hurt me, as long as you do not leave permanent scars or cause damage that takes more than a few weeks to heal on my own. Using your blood to heal me if you overstep your bounds is not an option. You may mark me anywhere except my face. You may not use entrancement for any reason. If you do, I’ll find out. It always leaves a trace, and I know what to look for.”
She didn't tell him that she was immune to entrancement. If he learned that, all of the plastic surgery in the world wouldn’t prevent him from realizing who she was. Angie paused, gauging his reaction. He just continued to stare. “I know I’m asking a lot. I offer myself as a victim, and in order to make that real for you, it must be real for me. I will be out of control. It is up to you to remain in control for both of us. To make sure neither of us does serious harm. Do you understand?”
“You play a dangerous game.”
“That is why I am extremely selective. And expensive.” She raised her chin, bringing her lips nearer his. “You may take my mouth or my vagina, but nothing else. Since vampires don’t carry human diseases and cannot get a human pregnant, I do not require condoms. You may torture and feed on me, as long as you stay within the boundaries I have laid out.”
A fine tremor went through him. Steffen clenched his hands into fists, but otherwise did not move. Angie watched until she was satisfied he had his instincts under control.
“Are these conditions acceptable?” she asked softly.
He inclined his head just enough to give his answer.
“Then let’s talk about what you want. I can offer a variety of scenarios, play whatever role you wish. Do you have something in mind?”
Steffen drew back, finally, giving himself some distance from her, and she eased back as well.
“I have an idea,” he said, and told her.
Chapter Two
Blood is meat and potatoes for a vampire, but who wants to live on meat and potatoes when they can have spices and sauces, fruits and vegetables, butter and cream? Violence, terror, humiliation, sadism, the thrill of the hunt—these are what give a vampire’s meal flavor. The blood is bland without them.
—Dr. Elisha Lynn, Vampire Psychiatrist, PhD, MD
In her years of studying and living among vampires, Angie had learned what they wanted most. They longed for the old days, when they could give in to their true desires and hunt down their prey without regard for human laws. Feeding in the modern age was a dance of persuasion, convincing humans to freely give their life’s blood, but this went against a vampire’s instincts.
What she offered her clients was not the real thing, but it was as close as they could get without repercussions. They had to abide by certain rules. That was what made her role-playing different from true rape and torture. She enjoyed her work, but the real thing was a far different matter. While the hunt was not the only service she offered, it was the most popular.
For Steffen Scott she would play the part of prey that had separated itself from the herd. In his youth, this scenario would have probably taken place in a forest, but tonight he’d chosen the urban jungle.
Angie parked her car in the location they had agreed upon for his fantasy, then closed her eyes to concentrate. She had to put aside her own personality and take on the role she’d created for this session: a party girl named Tina, much younger and less experienced with supernatural predators. Her imagination conjured images of dance clubs, frat parties, fruity drinks with umbrellas, flirting, and the occasional drunken one-night stand. When she’d submerged herself into the role, she got out of the car.
Tina raised the hood of her stalled vehicle and scowled at the jumble of machinery underneath. None of the dashboard lights had come on; the thing had just stopped running. There was nothing she could do but call a tow truck. She fished a cell phone out of her purse, only to find she’d forgotten to charge the battery. What was she going to do? Public phones had gone the way of the dinosaur. She saw no other people. This was an old warehouse district, hardly busy even during the day. At night it was a ghost town. There was no option but to start walking and hope for the best.
The sound of her high heels echoed against concrete sidewalks and brick buildings. Streetlamps provided bubbles of light that turned dirty windows into mirrors. The cold air made her breath visible, and she hugged her arms around her, wishing now she hadn’t worn such a short skirt. At least there was no rain or wind.
Yet something riffled her hair. Tina paused, thinking perhaps a breeze had begun to pick up, but everything remained perfectly still. No movement. No sound.
It happened again.
She spun around. Something flashed in her peripheral vision, but no matter how quickly she turned, she could never quite see what it was. Then a low voice spoke from behind her.
“Run.”
Her scream shredded the air. Despite the heels, she was fast, adrenaline pumping through her blood, muscular legs forcing her short skirt to ride higher as she sprinted all out.
One second, there was nothing but empty street ahead, the next she slammed into a body as hard as stone. The impact stunned her. She scrambled away, managing to regain her footing despite the fact that she’d literally been knocked out of her shoes. Twisting around, she ran blindly in another direction. A hand gripped her arm, yanking her back, and she kicked at a shin, stomped on a foot, swung her elbow—all of the things she’d been taught to do in self-defense seminars. He laughed and let go. Before she could get a single step away, he caught hold of her neck and hauled her against him.
Cold lips touched her ear. “Tell me, human. Are you afraid?”
Angie went still, inside and out. A ferocious rush of emotion made her shudder. The girl she portrayed felt fear in spades, but beneath the character flowed a current of excitement. It was like coming over the top of the rise on a roller coaster and starting to speed down the slope. A scream of sheer exhilaration began in the back of her throat. She cut it off and writhed, her entire body twisting and straining for any weak point in his grip. Kicking both legs into the air, she jerked downward with the pull of gravity and landed on her back at his feet. Immediately, he crouched over her, his arms and legs a cage.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” His canines grew long in the space of a second, transforming into slender fangs. She glimpsed a handsome face overhead, distorted by a mouth open to strike. Oh, no, it wouldn’t be that easy, she thought, and shoved her hand up. Tina clawed at his eyes. He snarled, caught her wrist, and used it to bring her arm around, forcing her onto her stomach. Needle-sharp teeth tore into her flesh. He must have aimed for the big vein standing out at the side of her neck, but her frantic struggles gave him the less tender meat of muscle a few inches lower.
He did not even try to cloud her senses with pleasure, the way vampires usually did. It was one of their gifts, similar to entrancement, but one that did not override the victim’s free will or erase memories. Giving her this would not have violated their agreement, yet he chose not to. The agony shocked her system and turned excitement into panic. Thrashing, she flung herself this way and that, and if he had not let go of her wrist, she would have broken it. Her hand fell on something, gripped it, and she lashed out. The spike heel of a shoe stabbed his temple hard enough to leave a dent, though it didn’t break the skin. In a blur, he ripped the shoe from her hand and flung it hundreds of feet away, and this time his snarl raised the hairs all along her arms and on the back of her neck.
He had her off the ground from one breath to the next, her chest crushed against his. Long arms trapped her own at her sides. The vampire shoved his face at hers, smearing her own blood across her cheek and growling with the excitement of securing his victim. Something thick and red filled her peripheral vision, and for a confused moment she thought someone had poured blood over his head, but then she realized it was his hair. It had come loose from whatever he’d used to tie it back. He opened his mouth, hunched down with his head to one side, and struck again, this time finding the fat pulse that hammered with the beating of her heart.
Her cry sent a thrill down the length of his body. The urge to tear her open and drink her dry must have been maddening, especially since she continued to squirm within the tight confines of his hold. He held back, just barely, and stopped when her struggles weakened. Once she hung limp, he carried her off the street and into one of the warehouses.
The vampire dropped her onto a gritty concrete floor. Bright lights came on, momentarily blinding her and adding to the dizziness she already felt from blood loss. Tina fumbled to scoot as far away from her attacker as she could, only to run into a pile of rotting lumber, plastic, and rags that reeked of dust and filth. Trembling, she forced herself to look up until she found his eyes, pale blue and inhuman, staring at her. Maybe it was the angle, but he seemed like a giant. Not just tall, but broad with muscle. The lower half of his face was a wet, red mask. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe it clean.
“Giving up so easily?” His mouth twitched to one side.
She cringed and tried to make herself small, to hide in the jumble of refuse like a rabbit disappearing down a hole.
The giant crouched, elbows balanced on his knees, and cocked his head. “Where do you think you’re going?”
A whimper caught in her throat when he reached out to touch her leg. His fingers stroked down the calf and closed around her ankle. One tug dragged her away from the hill of junk. She floundered for something to hold on to, but there was nothing within reach, no wall or outcropping solid enough to help. The vampire dumped her on her back, caught her flailing arms, and pinned her wrists above her head.
“Do you want to live?” he asked.
She strained in his hold, but couldn’t budge him. Her answer came out in a quivering whisper. “Yes. Please.”
He eased his body onto hers, pressing her into the floor, and studied her with that little smile still curling his lips to one side. “What would you offer me in exchange for your life?”
Deep within, arousal washed through Angie like a warm tide, and she allowed a hint of it to seep into the role she played for him, so Scott would sense it in his victim. He fell still for a moment. Then he bent his head and licked the wounds he had made in her throat. The holes were already closing. Unless kept open by the suction of a drinking vampire, the bites healed almost immediately. Against her skin, he growled, “Well?”
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she protested. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t be obtuse.”
“But you could just take that!”
His low laugh vibrated over her flesh. “Of course I could. You’ll have to offer me something I can’t take, if you want to earn the chance to live. What will it be?”
“I—I don’t know. Anything you want.”
“Anything?” In the next instant he sat several feet away with his back against a concrete pillar. The vampire stretched his legs, crossed his ankles, and spread his arms in invitation. “Show me.”
The draw of the hunt was in causing fear, pain, and degradation. A vampire might survive on blood alone, but these emotional responses were what it truly hungered for. The younger ones were more straightforward, using simple violence to get what they wanted. Scott was older, though, and his tastes were more subtle. He wouldn’t let her just lie there while he forced himself on her. He expected his victim to perform. By demanding her complicity, he multiplied the humiliation a thousandfold.
Tina stood. She took half a step toward him before stopping and shifting her feet. “What, um…do you want me to…?”
“Start by taking those off.” He gestured at her clothes.
Her face flushed, but she did as he’d instructed. She unzipped her skirt so it fell to the floor and shrugged out of the torn sweater.
“Now?” she asked in a small voice.
“Don’t stop there.”
She kept her eyes on the floor as she took off her bra and panties and stood naked before him. He snapped his fingers to get her attention. With a glance at his crotch, the vampire undid the button of his jeans. Then he looked at her and waited.
Some shred of pride stiffened her spine. Tina clenched her jaw, closed the distance between them, and knelt to jerk his zipper down before bending over him. He must have guessed what she was about to do, because he grabbed a fistful of her hair to stop her just above his erection.
“If you use your teeth,” he warned, “I will yank them out.”
Then he pushed her head down.
He filled her mouth too fast, too deep. She had to fight the gag reflex. He held her there, and only let up when she smacked his thigh. The vampire chuckled.
She turned her head and glared at him. “If you don’t mind, I know what I’m doing.”
His eyebrows rose, and he held up his hands as if in surrender.