Page 25 of Club Blood

Power. No mercy. No weaknesses.

Cecelia was my biggest weakness, and she needed to die. Carlisle was right, I could never become who I wanted to be, who I needed to be, if I continued to live the way that I was. I would not let some human girl consume my thoughts. I would not let my pity for her make me weak. I needed to become better than Nathaniel Tusker if I wanted to survive ruling Sin City.

And yet, my hand didn’t move. It sat there, and no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t move. Her blood would feel so delectable against the back of my throat. I swallowed against the raging fire.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. I could hear her heartbeat, faster than I anticipated. It was as if her heart knew I was near. Her fear was making me quiver. Heat blossomed from within me. I was absolutely weak for her.

There is no room for love.

This was not love, but I lusted for her. Her softness was addicting, something I never wanted to be away from. Fuck this curse and the needs that came with it. My fingers wrapped around the handle; I went to turn it, but stopped. She couldn’t accept her captor, and what would that make of me, if I were to take her unwillingly? I was a monster, but I was not that kind of monster.

What was it that Carlisle had said about God; that they were the only one that could judge our sins? I let my hand drop from the doorknob and breathed in deeply. After tonight, I would have formally accepted my place in hell. I refused to believe that it was a weakness. It was anything but— taking her would be the first step towards me claiming my power. My head was full of disastrous potential, and it was unclear if I’d be drinking her in, or drinking from her. The mystery of it was what made it exhilarating.

My hand lifted and I knocked quietly on Cecelia’s door.

16

CECELIA

I felta little ashamed of myself as I stood in front of the mirror. Mercy would be returning home—perhaps had already returned—and I wanted to make sure I looked good for her. I had slipped into a loose fitting black summer dress, the light cotton fabric brushing against my thighs. Maybe it was delusional to think, to hope, that Mercy would visit me when she got back, but it didn’t stop me applying a light coat of rose lipstick and dusting my cheeks with blush.

Propping myself up with a bunch of pillows, I selected a movie at random and pretended to watch it as I waited. The clock slowly ticked by, the noise loud in my ears. Focusing on the screen was the furthest thing on my mind. It was impossible to watch a movie when you were daydreaming about the most beautiful and petrifying woman in the world.

A soft rapt on the door startled me. I yawned and stretched out, realizing I must have dozed off. A glance at the TV told me the movie had ended over two hours ago which meant I had been sleeping for far longer than I had first thought.

“Little flower, can I please come in?”

The sound of Mercy’s voice sent a shiver skating down my spine. It had only been a few days without her being here, and yet I felt that I had missed her presence an unhealthy amount.

Missing your murdering, psychopathic kidnapper wasn’t normal, right?

The tiny shred of sanity I had left in my mind reasoned that I should roll over and go back to sleep, a small act of human petulance that was probably expected of me anyway. But my body had snapped into an alerted frenzy at her voice, my muscles aching for me to move and open the door. Other parts of me were aching too.

I groaned and rolled off the edge of the bed, unlocking the door to face the new vampire queen. Things had changed so quickly and it was as apparent as ever as Mercy stood before me, looking every bit as deadly as her new title would suggest.

“Mercy.” Her name escaped my lips in a breathless, almost desperate whisper. I could hear the wanting and misery in my voice, the despair of wanting something that was innately bad for me, and I simply didn’t care. I wanted it anyway – I wantedheranyway.

Mercy stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. I walked backwards until my legs hit the edge of the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. My eyes wandered over her, noting all the deliciously sexy details of her outfit. The leather pants which clung to her curves, shaping her ass into the perfect roundness that made me want to sink my fingernails into it; the deep V-cut blazer that exposed the swell of her breasts; a pair of stilettos that were so sharp they dug into the plush carpet beneath her feet. She was the very definition of deadly temptation, and I was more than willing to follow the sweet sound of her siren call.

She followed my eyes as they roved over her body, lips pulled into a devastating smile. Her own gaze sparkled with intent as she met my eyes. “Hello, Cecelia.”

Her voice was lustful, teasing as she walked towards me at an achingly slow pace. I knew my hormones had completely taken over when I groaned, the sound foreign to my ears.

“Mercy,” I breathed, her name a plea for something, anything.

Her legs slotted between my thighs and she looked down at me. “Tell me what you want, little flower, and I will give it to you,” she said, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear.

What did I want? The question was complex and my answer should have been something like freedom, a life free of captivity, but those answers were logical and only partly what I wanted. At that moment, all I truly wanted was her lips on mine and I told her as much.

Catching my chin in her hand, she tilted my face up towards her, leaning down to press her cool mouth against mine. It was a peck, a soft breeze against my lips, and I yearned for more.

There was something so wrong with me, an insanity that my kidnapping had uncovered, because I heard myself begging her for more. “Please, Mercy, please.”

A devilish smile split across her face as she tightened her grip on my jaw. “Be careful what you wish for, little flower,” she muttered before slamming her lips into mine.

She set a punishing pace, her kiss an equal balance of pleasure and pain. I gripped her waist in my hands, scrambling for something to hold onto as I submitted to her in the only way I could. My mouth opened, letting her tongue enter and grace me with her taste.

I was alight for her, my fingertips white from digging into her waist. Mercy was unlike anyone I had ever kissed, her kiss offering me more pleasure than outright sex with my previous partners. The sweetness of her on my tongue was addictive, and I almost groaned as her other hand gripped my hair, pulling my head back slightly to expose my neck.

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