Wet Heat (4 page)

She
was
flying. Flying back to Italy. Back to the orchard. Into Gio and Paolo’s strong loving arms.

We love you so much,
amore.

They had told her that many times during their lovemaking. Told her to stay with them forever. And she had wanted to. So badly. But she’d had to protect them.

As they drew her deeper into the orgasm, a sob escaped her. She had lost her males. Abandoned them. Another sob wrenched from her and then it was as if her climax was exploding the huge protective walls she’d built around her. Wave after black wave, the pleasure released the demons she held deep inside. Other emotions rose to the surface. Emotions buried so deep, she’d almost forgotten them.

Realization.

Wonder.

Knowledge.

She was female. She was vampire.

In her quest for freedom she had denied herself love. Starved herself of sex. Deprived herself, period.

The beautiful orgasm subsided, leaving her gasping for air. It left her weak and wondering if she would ever recover from the devastation of what she had denied herself. Wondered if she could ever repair the damage. Should she even dare?

* * * * *

“She went through something, didn’t she?” Paul asked a while later as they sat in the next room and watched through the two-way mirror as Matilda slept peacefully on the massage bed. After she climaxed that last time, her wrenching cries had frightened them and they’d cradled her in their arms, comforting her while she’d sobbed. Then afterward, when her demons were released, she’d fallen asleep and they’d eased her weakened body onto the bed, covering her with the sheets.

“Yes, I felt it too,” John admitted. Something had shifted inside her. Something hard and cold, and it had escaped. Leaving her emotional and vulnerable. Leaving him feeling protective of her. So protective that it literally hurt. He could feel similar feelings sweeping through his brother. Powerful and raw.

“It seemed as if something black had risen from deep within her and she was able to release it. I couldn’t read her body signals because her walls came up before I even had a chance to go inside her mind,” Paul replied and continued the conversation through their mind link.

She dropped that protective emotional shield several times during her orgasms and the shield came right up again afterward. I caught glimpses of immense pain and guilt at leaving us the way she did.

Yes
, came his brother’s hoarse reply.

Recently they’d reconnected their mind link with her again. But until today it had only worked while she slept. Today, he’d caught glimpses of her thoughts, while she was awake. John had felt it too.

On the massage table, beneath the sheets they’d draped over her after her last fantastic orgasm, they watched Matilda shift uneasily.

Paul tensed as her lips parted. Through the intercom, they heard her whimper. She was in dream stage. Within a second he connected to her and suddenly wished he hadn’t.

Mati was in the grips of one of her nightmares. A bad memory from her time as a blood slave. He’d observed many of these memories and knew it consisted of her need for freedom. Knew her craving for freedom was one of the reasons she had left them so suddenly in Venice.

But he had no idea how to fix her.

We should jump in now.
Stop the dream. Have mind sex with her and comfort her,
his brother urged. His pain and anguish at her suffering ripped through him like shards of glass. Usually Gio was the strong one but his will was crumbling. Paolo realized this time he would have to be the tough one.

No, we agreed. No more mind sex. Not even to stop her suffering. She needs to deal with this on her own.

It killed him to think those words, but they had argued these points extensively. They could not let their need to protect her interfere with her horrible past.

I hate this, Gio. I really hate to see her suffer so.

Me too, brother. Me too.

If he could, he would use his memory-vanquishing powers on her and erase all her memories she’d experienced as a slave. He also knew if he did that, he would erase the female they both loved.

She needed to figure out if she wanted to keep the shackles of her past or if she wanted to rip them off and free herself to love them once and for all.

Chapter Four

“Have you learned your lesson, slave?” The master torturer’s powerful voice echoed dully through the damp cell.

Matilda Coldbane said nothing. Instead, she breathed through the stinging pain crisscrossing her back and shoulders. Pain compliments of the whip, whose tails had been drenched in garlic oil and salt. She couldn’t stop herself from crying out as another slice of excruciating pain split against her burning back.

“Answer me, slave!”

She held back a curse.

Every morning he shackled her naked to the cold stone wall. The torture would commence and silently she would vow he would not break her on this day. But by every evening he had her begging.

Begging for her life. Agreeing he could do whatever he wanted to her in order for the pain to stop. And she did everything he asked.

The torturer would take her. Then he would force her to bite him. To feed from him. To swallow his disgusting blood. It was the nourishment she needed to keep her alive for another day.

She hated the taste of him. But she knew it was her only means of survival. No matter how bad the whippings, the torture, the pain, her instinct for survival seared through her and overcame her dignity. She knew she would have to escape or she would not survive her captivity.

She died slowly every day she was a slave. Died every time she was given to another group of vampires to lie with and to feed. There was a better life for her out there. She knew it. All she had to do was grab her next opportunity and run for freedom. She also knew the way to hold on to freedom was to disappear into the forbidden human world. To pretend to be one of them.

If she had the strength, she would dematerialize and rematerialize far away from here, but since a youngling, she’d been kept weak enough to prevent her from doing just that.

“Answer me, slave!” The master torturer’s sharp command wrenched her back from her memory and she literally felt the cold shivers of shock begin to rack her body. Her bare feet felt like two blocks of ice standing on the stone dungeon floor. Heavy iron shackles bit into the tender flesh of her ankles and a heavy two-foot rod wedged between those ankles prevented her from pulling her widespread legs together.

He snapped the whip again. Thankfully, though, this time he didn’t lash her. But the effect was worse than getting hit. She felt her composure crumble.

“I hear you,” she muttered through gritted teeth, and blinked away the salty sweat dripping into her eyes.

She heard the whip drop to the floor in a clatter. Heard him chuckle in satisfaction. Heard his breaths come faster and harder.

She knew what would come next.

“Good. You belong to us, slave. You will always belong to us. Your father sold you to us for life. You will never be free. Repeat it, slave! You will never be free.”

Those five words pierced through her like hollow bullets. The impact hurtful and full of spite. Despite the emotional pain they caused, she dug deep down inside herself and clenched her fists in defiance.

“I…will…be free,” she replied in a voice that sounded surprisingly strong, even after a full day of torture.

“You insolent little bitch!” he shouted, and when his fingers roughly pulled her ass cheeks apart and he forced himself into her, she numbed her mind to the painful invasion and welcomed those four beautiful words into her body.

I will be free.

Mati found herself coming awake on a tortured cry. Opening her eyes, she blinked into darkness. Blinked into the deepest black she’d ever encountered. Beside her, lying on the cell cot, she could hear the master torturer’s raspy snores. Could feel his moist, obscene breath pummel her senses. Could taste his disgusting blood in her mouth.

At first, she thought perhaps she dreamed he was here asleep on her cot because this had never happened before. After taking her, force-feeding her, he always left. So she had to be dreaming. When she dared movement, pain burned raw like fire all over her back and her shoulders. Despite the devilish pain she realized she was awake.

Yes, she was awake and he was fast asleep. This most likely would never happen again.

Despite the pain weakening her, slowing her, she reached out and gingerly touched his flesh. It repulsed her, the touch of this horrid male beneath her fingers. The rancid taste of him in her mouth.

Instincts begged her to wrap her hand around his neck. To squeeze. To hold until life left him. But he was vampire, not human. Not easily killed. He would be stronger than she. He was healthy, powerful. Like a wolf. She was weak, like a kitten. If she wasn’t careful, he would awaken and there would much torture to bear if he discovered she attempted escape.

But she must escape. He would have the key to the cell.

She didn’t know how long her trembling fingers smoothed gently over his sleeping figure, searching for the keys, before she fully realized he was nude from the waist down and the keys would be dangling from the belt at his pants.

Oh sweet vampire! How could she get off the bed without awakening him?

Anxiety began to pound through her as she realized she just might not be able to get out of here without him awakening. But she must try. And she’d already been warned that if she did ever escape again, she would be killed.

That familiar need for survival seared through her again. Her life depended on the next few minutes. Lightheadedness, from the pain of her wounds, almost toppled her as she quietly maneuvered into a seated position.

Gingerly, she rose from the bed and winced at the cold floor hitting her bare feet. She’d been brought here late summer and mental calculations made her believe it was early autumn outside the dungeon now. The cell was situated in a veiled cave deep inside Italy’s Dolomite Mountains. It would be colder out there than in here. She would need her clothing, which she knew would be hanging on a hook by the door.

She would also need boots, for they had taken her footwear. He must have worn boots. She would have to find them. And find his pants. That was where the keys would be.

Grimacing at the pain rocking her, including the intimate area between her thighs where he’d brutally taken her, she managed to get down on all fours. It was a position she’d been in many times in her life and she forced away the bad memories of those times and began her search.

Groping along the floor, she soon felt the softness of wool trousers and stiffened at the loud clinking of keys that must have slipped from the pants and hit the floor.

Sweet vampire!

From the cot, he snorted, moved slightly, fell silent.

Nervousness screamed through her as she awaited the return of his bellowing snores. A moment later the sound of snoring sawed over her nerves again.

Oh Matilda, calm yourself, vamp girl. Calm yourself or you won’t make it!

But how? The adrenaline pummeled her like blasts of a hammer against the horseshoes a blacksmith would forge.

I will be free.

The chant came out of nowhere and embraced her with warmth. Warmth she had, up until this instant, never experienced before. Instinctively she knew it was the warmth of hope.

And just like that, her fingers wrapped around the set of keys where they had fallen on the floor. She looked around the black room until she spied the crack of light coming under the heavy wood door. That was her way out.

But first, she needed to find his boots.

She found them quickly, as well as thick heavy wool socks. Both his socks and boots were horribly smelly and the stench made her gag, but she would need their warmth. Tucking the socks into the boots, she placed them under her arm.

She stood and found herself careening off balance in the darkness, crashing into a nearby stone wall. The boots almost left her grasp at the painful impact with the wall, but thankfully she managed to keep a tight grip, preventing the boots from crashing to the floor and wakening the torturer.

At that moment she realized he’d stopped snoring once again.

Mati fought the urge to run toward the door.

Instead, she begged to the vampire gods for help.

Please don’t let him wake. Please let him stay asleep.

Begging to the vampire gods was nothing new. It was a daily ritual. They rarely listened. Thankfully this time they did and the welcome sounds of snores once again sawed over her rattled nerves.

Within seconds she found and put on her clothing. The wretched-smelling socks and the boots were ill fitting but necessary.

A small glow of yellow light came through the keyhole of the dungeon door and she used that bit of light to quietly insert one key at a time. The torturer had several keys on the ring, and with each insertion she held her breath, hoping this one would turn in the lock.

Her anguish at defeat grew. For many days she had heard the sound of the key grating in the keyhole. The sound had filled her with fear. Now, as she inserted the last key and heard the same grating sound, her hopes soared to new heights.

The door creaked open as she gingerly pushed on the heavy oak. She remembered from her time being dragged here after her capture, no outer guard had been posted on the row upon row of cell doors. There still wasn’t any. Her hope of escape flourished and screamed through her unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

Slipping into the dimly lit hallway, she locked the door behind her and grabbed a torch from a nearby holder. Proceeding down the narrow, damp stone passage, she listened for any unusual sounds and despite the continued danger, found herself smiling.

Oh! If only she could be a fly on the cell wall when the torturer awoke and discovered her gone.

Despite her wearing clothing and boots, the cold, damp air bit into her like icy daggers. But the cold sharpened her senses.

The long narrow hallway was laced with wooden doors, the same type of door as the one that had held her inside a cell. Each door a way into another cell like hers. Each most likely holding a prisoner such as herself.

Anguish screamed through her at the thought of leaving anyone down here to suffer the same fate as she. By the time she reached the end of the passageway, she knew she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t at least check to see.

But before she could investigate, she needed to open the final door, which she remembered would lead to the outside. This one would have to be unlocked before she could go in search of anyone to rescue. This one would be the door to freedom. She found the key easily enough, worked it into the hole, turned the key and pushed it open a crack.

Cool, fresh air splashed against her and impulsively she pushed harder, opening it and gasping at the miraculous site of the huge, dark mountains towering over the cave. The Dolomites.

Behind her she heard the weak groan of a male, the weeping of a female. Deep inside her, freedom fought with sympathy.

Cursing herself for her weak sensitivities, she turned from freedom and found the first cell door to her right. Thrusting a random key from the ring of keys into the lock, she was surprised when the door opened.

Inside, she discovered a disheveled male lying on a cot. He blinked at her in the stream of torchlight sailing through the doorway.

“Come. We must escape,” she hissed in her fluent Italian, trying to keep her voice as low as possible in case any guards were lurking about.

“Such a beautiful angel you are,” the male said in an Italian dialect she was not familiar with, but understood his words easily enough.

Alas, the male didn’t move. Just blinked at her. His squinty eyes twinkling with amusement.

“It must be a dream,” he grumbled. “A beautiful dream.”

She tossed him the keys. They landed square on his bare chest.

“It’s up to you to free the others. I must go. I must be free. Please understand,” she said to the ragged stranger, feeling the anxiety rushing through her with an insane speed.

“Go child. Be free. I will take care of the others.”

At his soft urging, something inside her snapped and the urgency of freedom wound so tightly through her, it felt like a noose around her neck. She knew if she didn’t get out of here now, she would start screaming in angst.

She backed out of the cell, turned from him, stumbled down the rest of the hallway and pushed through the open doorway.

I am free.
She praised herself and stepped outside the cave into the fresh, sweet-smelling air. Before she knew what was happening, she was running and the huge mountains towered all around her. Cold air slapped against her. But she smelled the freedom. And its scent made her heady. Made her stumble over the rocks and into the valley of the dark forest nearby.

Yes, she was free.

Free.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mati awoke to that powerful word slamming through her senses like a sledgehammer.

Freedom
.

Sweet vampire! She had been free from the moment she escaped that cave hidden in the Dolomite mountains. She had been free all this time.

Free to love.

Why had she run from it? Why hadn’t she seized such a simple concept?