Enslaved by the Others (5 page)

Max’s gaze flicked up to meet Francisco’s, and the two shared a look I couldn’t read. Reality came crashing back, along with the awareness that I was completely fucked. Francisco jerked back when I flailed, struggling to get out from under Max’s hand. The ancient vampire hissed at me to be still. Though I hated him for it, I had to obey, going rigid.

Max gestured ahead to the room where Scar-face had earlier taken me. “The facilities, as I mentioned, are excellent. Take advantage as you please, and do let me know if you need anything else. I’ll join you when I have a moment.”

Francisco inclined his head and smiled genially. “Take your time, Euphron. I am in no rush.”

Max scooped me up in his arms and, leaving Francisco and his guards behind, took the stairs. When he reached the security door at the top, he made me close my eyes before he worked the keypad. Only after the door was open, sliding on oiled rollers into a recessed alcove in the wall, was I allowed to look around.

The place was huge. The white marble floors veined with gold reflected the lights of half a dozen chandeliers above our heads, shining with rich opulence on the museum-quality furniture and artwork hanging on the walls. The brief glimpse I got of the prison I was leaving behind was of a section of the wall that slid back into place, silent and seamless, behind us. I couldn’t even tell where the mechanism was to get inside, but did my best to take note of the details of the room so I could find it again. He’d designed the perfect camouflage to hide his stash of human captives.

Max’s footsteps echoed softly as he carried me through the place, each room bigger and more magnificent than the last. It was like a weird cross between a swanky hotel and a museum. We passed an indoor pool, sparkling fountains, statuary, exotic birds in gilded cages, and uniformed maids and butlers who bowed and turned their eyes away when we passed.

Good to know wealth could buy blind eyes and silence about human trafficking to match the furniture.

Only when we reached a wide marble staircase leading upward did I think to shut my mouth. Judging by my stay thus far and all the carefully averted eyes, I didn’t think calling for help to any of the people working here was going to do me much good.

We passed a few closed doors before we reached the end of the hallway. The double doors swung open to reveal a room far more magnificent than the others. The place practically glowed with all the gilding. Intricate designs were inlaid into every surface and along the edges of the white lacquered furniture. The bed was the centerpiece; large enough for an army platoon, with gauzy white curtains that concealed the pillows and blankets that looked soft and fluffy enough to shame the clouds. Despite the color scheme, there was nothing feminine about it. The artwork was too dark, and the way everything came together was cold and somber; no amount of ornamentation could cover that up. Which made this Max’s bedroom, I presumed.

The vampire carried me past the bed, glancing down as a shudder passed through me. He soon turned his attention back to the task at hand, taking me to a small painting at the far end of the room. I vaguely recognized the piece of bathing and lounging women as something by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, though I didn’t know the name of the painting off the top of my head. I had seen a print of it somewhere before—maybe at one of those funky galleries Sara liked to drag me to.

Max swung it away from the wall to reveal a hidden panel, keyed in a code, then pressed his palm to a scanner; a more high-tech security device than the one used to keep the people downstairs locked away.

Great. My plans for never getting out of here were coming together swimmingly.

A whole section of the wall slid away to reveal a secret passage. I would never have guessed the damned thing was there if Max hadn’t revealed it. He lugged me inside, and I was not surprised to see a room similar to—but smaller than—his own on the other side. Instead of one giant bed, there were several smaller ones.

Unlike the rooms downstairs, this place opened up off a few others, including a large bathroom, a library, and—unbelievable—
outside.
Weak sunlight was visible through the far door, and I was bordering on desperate to break the chains of his will to make my way out there.

“Here, now,” he said, his voice low and soothing in a way far too reminiscent of Royce’s for my peace of mind, “perhaps you’ll do better here. If you behave, you may stay. If you don’t, back downstairs you go. Understand?”

All I could manage was a feeble nod. He smiled, the hint of fang in it sending my heart rate skyrocketing.

“Good. Go wash up and get some rest. I’ll check on you later. We’re going to have a talk tonight, you and I.”

He set me down on the edge of a sofa. It was even softer than it looked, and I sank down into the cushions, unable to rise immediately. Max left the room, and a low murmur of chatter started up.

Startled by the voices, I reflexively yanked a pillow over myself to cover my near nakedness.

No one approached me, and whoever was locked in here with me didn’t seem to think they needed to show themselves yet. After a moment, I tossed the pillow aside and struggled to get to my feet. Dizziness would’ve sent me to my knees if I hadn’t grabbed for the arm of the couch when I stood up. Rather than go to the bathroom to clean up, the first thing I did was make a beeline to the double doors that led outside.

I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up. Though this cage was prettier than the one downstairs, I was still trapped.

The courtyard sunroom was lovely and spacious, containing all the amenities you might find in a five-star hotel—including a pool with a cabana serving drinks, wonder of wonders—but it was completely enclosed by a series of iron latticework and thick glass. Probably bulletproof, from the looks of it.

That didn’t stop me from shuffling over, hoping to find some crack in the defenses, some hint of a means of escape. Of course there wasn’t any secret door waiting for me—but I was shocked to see that, beyond this lovely and obviously temperature-controlled prison, the ground a couple of floors below was covered in a blanket of snow. In the distance, a tall stone fence surrounded the property and, beyond that, thickets of pine trees dotted the snow-capped hills, with no sign of other buildings or roads that I could see.

Max had taken me far away from Los Angeles. It didn’t look anything like this in Southern California. Though it had been chilly enough for light jackets at night in LA, it certainly hadn’t been cold enough to herald snow before Fabian’s pet necromancer put me under. The type of greenery visible under the layer of snow on the distant hills spoke of something much farther north.

I sank down onto a poolside chair, pressing a hand to my forehead. I was far away from home, God knew where. Trapped. Even if I managed to make it outside by some miracle, I wouldn’t last long in that cold without more suitable clothing. Max probably had a long coat or something I could steal out of his wardrobe, but the idea of running barefoot through the snow and woods with nothing more than my undies and bra ... ouch. If I couldn’t find shelter, frostbite and exposure would kill me, assuming Max didn’t find me and snap my neck first.

A panic attack wouldn’t help anything, but it sure felt like a good time to give in to one.

“You should do as he told you,” said a clear, ringing voice from behind me. I glanced over, not particularly interested, but soon found myself unable to look away.

A gorgeous woman stood there, draped in diaphanous silks that did nothing to hide the perfection of skin that somehow managed to be paler than mine and yet appeared to glow in the sunlight. Hair like spun gold trailed nearly to her waist, and her eyes glittered with an unnatural greenish hue, brighter than emeralds and shining with some inner fae light. The only thing marring that perfect beauty was the slight discoloration of the skin around the edges of a golden collar locked around her throat.

“Please,” she said. “He makes it harder on all of us when one disobeys.”

I decided not to antagonize my new roommate. She looked fit and toned and, considering those glowing eyes and skin, was clearly Other. Likely she had the strength to snap me in two if I ticked her off.

“Sure,” I replied, resigned. “Give me a sec to get my wind back.”

She watched, curious and unblinking, as I slowly levered to my feet. My ribs still ached from Max’s unwanted bear hug. The dizziness passed after a moment, and I followed her back inside. Once in the bathroom, she stepped in when she saw I was having trouble peeling off my clothes. As much as it would have bothered me at any other time, by that point I was far too tired to care.

The shower helped wake me up, but the lady had left with my underthings while I was washing. A towel and a short satin robe had been left on the marble sink for me. After drying off, I wrapped the robe around myself and edged back into the room with the chaises and beds, a little afraid of what I might find waiting for me.

The woman with the green eyes beckoned me to one of the beds, where I settled in silent misery, curling up into a ball as she drew a blanket over me. I hated that this place was so opulent, that it felt so good to sink into the plush softness of that bed and find comfort in the heady lavender scent of a familiar fabric softener wafting up from the sheets. No matter how good it felt, this place wasn’t safe, and all the luxuries in the world wouldn’t change the fact that I was imprisoned against my will.

Words in a language I didn’t know spilled from the Other’s lips, singing me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

But before I went to that dark place, I could have sworn I heard the rustle of wings.

Chapter Four

I woke up to the sound of screaming. I rolled, falling off the bed in my haste and landing painfully on my hands and knees.

A few other people were huddled back against the walls or hiding behind furniture. I peered over the edge of the bed, gaping at the sight of Max pressing the green-eyed woman against the wall. Her skin reddened wherever his bare skin touched her, and she was crying out in pain.

He pulled her wrist up to his lips, holding her fast as she writhed in agony. When his fangs broke through, some of her blood escaped in a thin, golden trickle down his chin, and a sick-sweet scent like overripe peaches wafted from her skin. Somehow, I knew the source was that weird liquid in her veins, though it didn’t smell anything like the normal copper-tainted human, vampire, or Were blood.

As he had with me, he took his time, though he had to know he was causing her an excruciating amount of pain. When he withdrew, he let his hands linger, his fingers leaving a trail of ugly red welts behind. As he loosened his grip, she slumped to her knees at his feet, panting and sobbing, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she cradled her bitten wrist against her chest, tucking the fist under her chin.

“The next time you disobey me, I will take you to my bed again. Understood?”

She nodded, her hair falling in a shining curtain to obscure her features—but not so much that I couldn’t see the mixed burning hatred and horror glittering in her gaze as her eyes opened to slits.

He turned to me, his eyes blazing red. I struggled to my feet as he approached, but dizziness and a touch of nausea would’ve sent me tumbling back on my ass if he hadn’t grabbed my wrist before I fell, yanking me against his chest.

I scrabbled for something—anything—to use to defend myself. He drew me to him as my fingers closed around the neck of a nearby table lamp. There wasn’t a lot I could do against his strength, but I did swing the lamp I’d grabbed at his head. The bulb shattered and the metal stand bent against the arm he threw up to block it. He wrenched the makeshift weapon out of my hand and tossed it aside, then pulled me closer.

I focused intently on his chin so I wouldn’t meet his eyes, panting as I struggled to get out of his grip. An odd scent, mixed vampire musk and the sickly sweet blood of the woman, had my eyes tearing up. Not enough for me to miss the light film of liquid gold at the corner of his lips, more of it staining his teeth—which I saw all too well when he snarled at me.

Pure, unadulterated terror shot through me, but his hand tangling in my hair and forcing my head back made it impossible for me to do anything about it. I squeezed my eyes shut before he could bespell me again.

“You are
mine,
” he snapped, grip tightening to the point where I was straining to breathe. “You do not obey or answer to that creature or her dead, false god! Do you understand me?”

Not really.

I felt the distinct bite of claws against my scalp when I hesitated.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“You do not,” he said. “You say so out of fear, not understanding.”

Couldn’t argue with that, even if I had the breath for it.

He stiffened, then abruptly shifted his grip, loosening his hold on me so that he was supporting instead of asphyxiating me. The claws retracted, replaced by the gentle stroke of his fingertips. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have called his touch an attempt at being soothing. All he accomplished was creeping me the fuck out.

“Tell me, Shiarra, what was Alec Royce’s plan for you? Do you know?”

Unable to stop shivering, I shook my head. With our bodies crushed together like this, I was learning far more about the hard, muscled frame beneath the immaculate suit than I wanted to. Not to mention I was really,
really
hoping that his clear excitement pressed against my thigh didn’t have anything to do with me.

“Pity,” he said. “Who is his second now that John is gone?”

I shook my head again, too afraid to speak. His gentle stroking of my hair became a shade more forceful, hinting at his displeasure.

“I don’t know,” I said, stammering. Why was he asking me something he must already know? Considering how Max had turned Royce’s former second-in-command against him, I found it hard to believe he didn’t have other spies in place to tell him these things. Maybe confirming his suspicions? Testing the depths of my knowledge or just how willing I was to betray my lover? “He doesn’t talk to me about his business.”