Page 70 of Taken By The Vampire King

Voices cheered and people clapped somewhere farther away, and there was laughter, but my eyelids were too heavy to lift. Everything was foggy like someone had stirred my thoughts into a thick gloop.

I groaned, then retched and swallowed against the bile rising in my throat.

Something was wrong. Nothing sounded the same, nothing smelled the same. I’d left Nicolas’s house and come home, but now I wasn’t there either.

Panic sliced a keen cut of awareness through me. Not at home. I opened my eyes, but the sudden movement hurt and I closed them again even as fear began to take hold. It whispered across my skin, and I shuddered.

I rolled on my side and opened my eyes carefully. It was like I’d spent the night drinking, matching Dad mouthful for mouthful. The room spun, the walls looming in and out of focus as I tried to make sense of what I could see while the panic settled to a steady buzz that threatened to cloud my senses.

The walls were jarring, vivid splashes of color, and I closed my eyes again. I was definitely somewhere new, and… Fuck. Fuck, what did I remember? Why did everything hurt?

Shit. I needed to think. But my skull still beat to its own rhythm. I shifted onto my back and waited until the room had stopped swirling around me before I prayed for a plain white ceiling and opened my eyes.

When everything had finally steadied, I glanced around, taking my time with each movement as I cataloged my surroundings, trying to be logical and keep the terror clutching at my throat at bay. My chest had tightened, too, and my breaths were shallow.

Okay. Okay, I could do this. I’d just spent time with the Vampire King of Baton Rouge and survived his brother nearly biting me. I could find my way out of one small room. I swallowed, the movement awkward and heavy.

I was on a heavy wooden bed, and the only other things in the room were a window and a door. Well, that limited my possibilities for breaking the glass and making my escape.

I climbed from the bed, hesitance delaying each movement as I tested each one to see how much it might hurt. Finally, I leaned against the window, breathing heavily, although I couldn’t say what had taken most of the effort. I felt all around it for a latch or a fastening, but there was nothing to use to open it. It was simply panes of glass set firmly within a frame. The glass wasn’t even truly transparent. I couldn’t see out and no one could properly see in.

No one would know I was even here.

A scream threatened to rip from me, but I held it in. Maybe the only weapon I currently had was my silence. My thoughts were fragmented, and I breathed deeply as I tried to bring them back into order.

Fear was my enemy. I needed to calm down.

I dragged myself to the door and turned the handle, but nothing happened. It didn’t even rattle. Nothing groaned or creaked—maybe only my bones as a sigh rising through me shook them.

I waited a little. Silence was good, but not if it prevented being rescued.

“Hello?” My voice was scratchy, and I tried again a little louder, ignoring the instinct to make myself as small as possible and hide away.

The panic pressed harder now, heavy and cloying, and my breathing was increasingly rapid.

I pressed my ear to the door, but either the wood was too dense or there was nothing beyond it because all I heard was my own blood thrumming through my head.

I beat on the door until my hands were sore and I was so tired I wanted to fall back into the bed.

There was no way out, and all I could do was wait. But I didn’t get back into the bed. I couldn’t be lying there helpless if someone appeared, and someone would appear, I was certain about that much.

What was the last thing I remembered? I waded through my gloopy thoughts, searching for my memories. I’d left the bar and gone home, and Nicolas had made changes. Lots of changes.

My room had been different…but not like this. I saw my room, but did I fall asleep in it? I’d seen the bed but had no memory of lying down.

But who would take me? Who the hell would bring me here to this noisy, colorful place?

I groaned and pressed a finger to my left temple to try to ease the throbbing. I’d gone home, but maybe Nicolas had never released me from my contract. It had seemed easy. So easy.

Perhaps too easy.

Maybe he’d never let me go. Nicolas must have taken me. It was the only explanation. He knew exactly where I’d be. I’d run away from him, but he’d known I wouldn’t run far.

Fucking Nicolas Dupont.

But the panic subsided a little. If Nicolas had taken me to fulfil the contract, I could at least handle that. I’d deal with him when I felt stronger. Decision made, I approached the bed and climbed back on.

I closed my eyes and prepared to sleep. Now I knew what had happened, I didn’t care to stay awake. Nicolas could find out exactly how disinterested I was in his games.

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