Page 236 of Flirting with Darkness

He cocked his head, a gleam in his gaze as he raked it over my half-naked body, lingering on the chains encasing my wrists, arms, lower legs and ankles, before he met my eyes again.

“Yeah, assassin, cute. Here you are chained to a wall. You can’t move. You’re compelled to do whatever I want, and you still have enough fire to give me orders.”

I swallowed hard. His amusement had turned into intense regard, a hungry and feral light in those striking eyes. Suddenly, I didn’t feel quite so ugly or disgusting. I felt…desired. Blood sank, making me hard as a rock, and the air became heavy with tension. His eyes widened a bit, and he shifted his position on the chair he straddled, resting his chin on his forearms. His big body stiffened as he inhaled, his gaze dropping to my crotch.

“You like being in chains?” he questioned huskily, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

I shivered at the sight, wondering what that tongue would feel like curled around my hard length, teasing and stroking until I climaxed.

My cheeks flushed at my reaction to his question. Did I? Victor had never chained me, though his compulsions and the rune on my skin were still chains of a sort, even if they were invisible. I’d certainly never felt this level of excitement, or this level of lust before. Not when I’d restrained my lovers, not even when I’d been restrained by those who needed the only bit of control they could find as Victor’s blood slaves.

I looked my gorgeous and dangerous jailer in the eye. I had nothing to lose by fostering this sexual energy that simmered between us. He was clearly interested in me; I could see it, feel it, even taste his desire. But there was something else pulling me towards him, something that tugged at my chest. I forced that feeling away and gave a sultry smile. I’d felt the heavy weight of Victor’s compulsion for years. The Count’s was different; lighter, not meant to last. I’d fight it off, and I’d run. Davlov would fuck up eventually, and when he did, I’d be ready.

“Maybe. But I like the way you are looking at me more,” I said softly, surprised when I realised my words were true.

His strong throat bobbed. Slowly he stood, a powerhouse of muscle. He wouldn’t hurt me. It was in his eyes, in the way his jaw clenched, and the way he wiped his palms on his jeans.

“Tell me who you’re working for.”

I thought about my answer. The truth was the best option. I was compelled to do what he said, but it didn't mean I couldn’t twist my words a bit.

“I have no idea who it is. A powerful vampire.”

“Really? You don’t know? Then who sent you to end the Count?” I heard the disbelief behind his words.

“I honestly don’t know. But a vampire really did send me.”

His frustrated growl made me smile. “Okay, clever fucker, tell me everything about yourself. Tell me why you have those scars on your body. Tell me who hurt you,” he snapped.

I swallowed, pain reaching into my head as I fought him. I squeezed my eyes shut and roared. “No!”

“You can’t fight the compulsion indefinitely, Elliot. Now tell me!” he demanded, his command sending another spike of pain into my head. I panted as I fought the need to tell him everything, clenching and unclenching my teeth until, against my will, the words started to spill from me.

“My name is Elliot, I have no surname, I’ve no idea who my father was, and my mother was killed after giving birth to me. My stepfather is Victor Hamilton. He’s a Made Vampire Lord. He hates me and blames me for my mother’s infidelity. He punishes me because I am evidence of her hate and disrespect towards him. She was an Original and he was obsessed with her. He still is. I have no idea if they were fated mates, but their mate bond must have been twisted to shit. He killed her in a fit of rage when he discovered I wasn’t his child, that I was a half-breed, a half human piece of shit. He has hated me every day since, and uses me for his amusement. He beats me…” I shrugged, like the physical abuse didn’t matter. “You know? Takes his frustrations and anger out on me, as do his warriors, the First Order. I am considered the lowest of the low in his household, even lower than the blood and sex slaves he keeps. I am compelled to stay with him, and this rune…” I turned my head so that he could see it. “Was to stop me from killing any of them. I was trained as an assassin so that I ‘at least might be of some use’.Those are Victor’s words not mine. I’m twenty-five years old, and I had never left the coven until two weeks ago when, out of nowhere, Victor was ordered to send me to kill the Count. He gave me that ring and told me to wear it on my person, that all I needed to do was scratch the Count’s skin, and it would eventually poison him.” I shook my head in self-disgust, a bitter laugh escaping me. “I couldn’t even manage that small task. Not much of an assassin, am I? Now I have no hope of escaping from Victor. I was to be turned into a full vampire upon the completion of my task. Once he knows I have failed, he’ll come to kill me, just as he said.” Panting, I fell silent, my eyes clouded with tears, my humiliation complete.

Davlov remained quiet. I understood. There wasn’t anything to say. I was such a pathetic creature. He stood, the weight of his stare heavy on my bowed head. His boots clicked on the stone floor until they were all I could see as I sagged against my metal restraints.

“Brace yourself,” was the only thing he said before the chains rattled and their tight hold released me. I sank to my knees and stayed there. There was nothing left inside me as the sad reality of my situation hit me. Even if I could escape from here, where would I go?

“Get up, Elliot,” Dav said softly, crouching in front of me, close enough that the rumble of his voice touched me deep in my chest. But there was no urgency. He hadn’t used compulsion. I blinked as he repeated his words, his breath moved strands of my hair. That tugging on my chest became more forceful, like it was willing me to fight, to prove I was stronger than my despair.

I glanced at Dav’s hard yet beautiful face. His jaw was clenched, a furious light in his eyes that I didn't understand. Maybe it was because I hadn’t immediately done as he asked. I frowned. I wasn’t deliberately defying him, I just didn’t see the point in trying. My words made it clear I didn’t know anything, that I really was of no use. He’d end me. And a part of me felt relief at not having to fight anymore.

“Get up right now.” This time the command in his voice sent a bolt of urgency through me, giving me no choice but to do as he ordered. Once I was up, he gently yet firmly clasped my chin. Holding my gaze, he leaned in, his breath fanning my lips. “You don’t ever give up fighting. Not even me. You hear?”

There was no compulsion, just a firm command in his words.

Swallowing hard, I nodded. For some reason, my eyes burned when he nodded back.

“Good. Now follow me.”

This time he used compulsion. Involuntarily my feet moved, and I followed along behind the sleek powerhouse of muscle as he moved smoothly up some ancient winding stone steps that led out into a dark corridor. I tried not to stare at the perfectly shaped, round globes of his arse. Instead, I peered around, hope filtering into my heart. If he wanted me dead, I already would be. And he’d told me to fight. That was an odd thing to demand of a prisoner you were going to kill. That knowledge made me perk up and pay attention.

The stone block construction of the corridor was very old, as was the stone slabbed floor, and the small windows, which were constructed with little diamonds of glass that let in beams of light that danced on the walls.

I was in a damned castle!

I didn’t speak, my chest still heavy from the bitter truth of my confessions. My life was such a pitifully sad story. Gods, I’d never even left the walls of the house I’d been born in. How pathetic this ancient vampire must think me.

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