Page 11 of Blood Bonds

Stuffing my feet into my shoes made me wonder, had he taken them off? Had he seen my odd socks and smirked that devilish smirk of his?

“Jesus, I need help.” I scowled as I ran a hand through my hair to try and rid myself the vision of him.

“Fantasize later, idiot,” I told myself as I reached for my hoodie and shrugged it on, thankful to find those were the only clothes he had taken off.

Or was I?

Okay, that was it, I was getting laid the next chance I got! Because if I was fixating on a bloody Vampire who first tried to kill me, then there was definitely something wrong with me. And it was nothing BOB could cure, that was for damn sure!

I stuffed my hand in my pocket and unfortunately came up with only twenty-three dollars and my apartment key. This was a curse as much as it was a blessing. My hatred for carrying a handbag meant that whenever I was with Stacey, I was used to giving her my phone and wallet to carry.

“Oh shit. Stacey!” I yelled, covering my mouth seconds too late. The last thing I wanted to do was alert anyone to thefact that I was awake. This was an unfortunate habit of mine, talking to myself or blurting things out as they came to mind. Thankfully, after holding my breath and waiting for someone to come barging in here, I finally relaxed when no one came.

But how the hell had I not thought about my friend? She would be worried sick wondering what the hell had happened to me. Had she called the cops? Or worse, had she called any of my family? That was a number I only gave her because she bugged me for it in case something happened to me and I ended up needing a transfusion or an organ doner. Trying to explain to her that they wouldn’t have given me a kidney unless it came with a hefty pay out had been like trying to explain to her why some people didn’t like dogs.

It was pointless because, let’s face it, who didn’t like dogs? Which then got us onto the conversation of which dogs we would be, and I didn’t know whether or not to take offence to the Corgi she named me to be. Well, at least I hadn’t been a Pug or a Pitbull. Although how this memory helped me now, I didn’t know.

Either way, calling any of my shitty family was a huge mistake. Let’s just say, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms. There was a reason I left home the second I turned eighteen and never looked back.

“Nope, not going there,” I told myself with yet another shake of my head. Although the one positive I could take from all this was that if I did manage to pull off a miracle and get out of here, then at least the Devil-God man had no way of knowing who I was. No ID, no name. And well, he hadn’t exactly been the type of gentleman Vampire to politely ask my name before sinking his fangs into my neck with the aim to drain me dry.

Had my blood tasted off or something? Sour perhaps, like spoiled milk… do I need to get it looked at?

“Jesus… not going there either,” I told myself.

I walked to the door and held my breath as I pulled down on the handle.

“Fuck!” I hissed when finding it wasn’t the outcome I had hoped for. The bastard door was locked. But duh, Nessa, of course it was! Okay, so I had to think about my situation… What about the windows? I ran to the heavy blinds that showed the hint of daylight behind them and yanked them open, only to find myself practically up in the clouds!

Jesus, where the hell was I?!

In some penthouse suite in one of New York’s many skyscrapers, that was where. Damn it, what the hell was I going to do now? I looked to the other doors and after checking them, I found nothing but a luxury bathroom I practically drooled over and a walk-in closet that was empty. Like, not a single useful thing was in the whole place, although what I was expecting, I didn’t know. It’s not like people kept jackhammers in their closet or lock picking sets in their bathroom draws.

“If only this damn door would open!” I snapped, yanking the handle and getting more panicked by the minute. Then the most astonishing thing happened and the door suddenly clicked open. To the point that I fell back on my ass, not expecting it.

“Oh shit,”I muttered, the pain nothing in sight of my freedom. I was just surprised that not only had it opened, but that there wasn’t a looming figure standing behind it. Well, I certainly wasn’t going to sit here and continue to question why. Not when any second someone could come and check on the prisoner.

His prisoner.

Again, I shook this thought away, hating the shiver that rippled through my body at the erotic thoughts that went with that mental image… Along with that hypnotic voice that had flipped like a switch from predatory to tender in a heartbeat. A fluttering heartbeat, as he had asked me to calm when trying tofight my way free of him. The change in him had been dizzying and instantly had my stomach in knots, despite crying out for him to let me go. My body tried to deny the request, knowing how it felt to be held by him.

Jesus, can anyone say Stockholm syndrome, much?

I stuck my head out of the doorway, edging out inch by inch and half expecting to find someone shout “boo”.

“Please let there be no guards,”I said aloud on a whisper.

I stepped out into a clear hallway that held stylish artwork on the paneled walls. The haunting scenery of dark skies over the turbulent seas. Or the snow-capped mountains with lightning splitting the sky and highlighting the castle nestled against the rock high above the town below. Each one I passed had a common theme, and the weather looked traitorous and foreboding. The dark clouds were so lifelike it felt as if I could reach out and touch them. As if I could grasp the shadows they created.

Now where had that thought come from, I wonder?

Okay, Nessa, it’s so not the time to admire some Vampire’s artwork. No, now it was time to escape the crazed blood sucking hottie. So, with this in mind and hopefully without any more squirrel moments on my side, I walked with purpose to the end of the hall and through a door that led into a huge living space.

“Holy shit balls,” I muttered as I took in the huge room that had been split into sections, with a black, U-shaped sofa facing the wall of glass. The view showcased the city below and Central Park, telling me that I was currently standing in premium real estate.

As for the rest of the room, it was all sleek lines, glass, and metal. The sofa was big enough to sit ten people at least. Black, gray, and white were the only colors on display, whether it was with the artwork, the rugs, or the soft furnishings. It was also cold, soulless, and completely masculine.

I tiptoed across the room, seeing what must have been a front door. One that was grand and imposing with its black carved wood, like thousands of serpents all writhing together. Or perhaps it had been two large ones all knotted up, because the only two heads were the ones that looked like they were coming straight out of the door. Two oily black snake heads acted as the handles, each one snarling, with long fangs that looked sharp enough to slice through skin, should you not take care when opening them. Something in my haste I learned too late because it cut across the insides of my shaking fingers as I yanked down too hard and sliced three of them.

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