Page 62 of Taken By The Vampire King

I looked at the closed door like I was trying to see through it, because if I couldn’t fix this—if I lost her—I didn’t know what I’d do.

Chapter 19

Leia

Holy shit. Holy shit. My heart thumped wildly like it would crack a rib or two. Holy, holy shit.

Vampires.

What in the hell?

Stupid, fucking vampires didn’t even exist.

Right?

Right? I mean, sure they didn’t. Except now Nicolas wanted me to believe I’d been staying in a house full of them. I had to get out and get home somehow. But how? Mr. Jenkins was the driver, and Mr. Baldwin seemed to hang around just to open and close the fucking front door.

I sucked in a breath as I ran from the west wing with far less stealth than I’d used to enter. I wanted to lock the doors to the east wing behind me, but I didn’t have a key, and hadn’t Nicolas boasted of super strength or something equally as stupid? A locked door couldn’t exactly keep him out of areas of his own home, either.

I hurried into my room. Surely Nicolas Dupont had broken his fucking contract now. Not declaring actual vampirism was pretty bad. And if not vampirism, insanity, which might have been worse.

Maybe my trip to his secret quarters had been worth it—it had yielded the results I wanted. Even if I could barely see through unwanted tears. Why the hell was I even crying? I brushed the tears from my cheeks and dragged my bag from where I’d left it in the stupidly big closet.

I’d be glad to get back to my own, cold home with normal sized spaces. Well, more normal than this house—the one Nicolas Dupont seemed to think could be everything I wanted.

Where did he get off trying to buy me?

Worse, I’d been so close to just giving him everything he wanted. Surrendering my kisses and opening my legs wide. I nearly gave the blood freak an all-access pass because I thought he’d liked me, and he made me feel incredible.

Even now, the memory of his touch sent a shower of sparks skittering through me.

I shoved only the clothes I’d brought with me in the bag. I didn’t want any of the things Nicolas had bought. I didn’t trust his motives anymore. I wasn’t his bride. It sounded like every clichéd horror movie ever written, and there was only a short leap between being a vampire’s bride and being Frankenstein’s bride, and both of those things were like something out of a bad paranormal romance novel.

No one met a guy and married him inside a month.

No one.

But fresh tears welled in my eyes, and I ground them away with my fists. I had no reason to be so upset.

But hell. Bloody, fucking hell. The only cliché here was me. I’d started falling for Nicolas Dupont the moment he kissed me outside that grocery store, before I’d even known his name. I’d always been a sucker—ha!—for a mystery guy. A guy with a little bit of bad in him. Or a guy with a lot of bad in him. I wanted to be the center of someone’s world. The sun he orbited around, and while he’d been plying me with gifts, Nicolas had made me feel that way.

Except now I knew why.

He needed me. And not because he actually would raze the world for one last kiss, but because I could bring him power.

And that was shit.

I needed to put as much distance between us as possible. And I almost didn’t care if he walked our contract back because at least I wouldn’t be beholden to the guy. I’d be able to look around and know I’d tried, but at least I wouldn’t have anything that wasn’t truly mine. I wouldn’t still be taking part in the biggest bribe in Baton Rouge. Or was it blackmail? Maybe the name I put on Nicolas’s game didn’t matter.

His house wouldn’t win this time.

I blew out a sigh. Mom. But she wouldn’t have wanted this for me either. I couldn’t settle on a life of being a walking, talking blood bag for a self-declared vampire king.

I took a final look around the bedroom. Damn, it really was a nice room.

Nothing more than a gilded cage for a one-month bride, though.

I dragged my phone from one of the pockets in my bag and scrolled through the stored list of phone numbers before settling on the number of a local cab firm run by one of Harry’s old friends. They’d make sure I got anywhere I needed to go with no awkward questions and probably no expectation of payment, although if I could get to the bar, I could get to the till.

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