Page 6 of Incandescence

“In his private chambers.” His expression stayed neutral, as though he forbade his thoughts to dwell on the evil of the monster who sustained him. “In the heat of the day he sleeps. At night, he scopes the city from his chambers for his next quarry.”

Before I could ask exactly how the vampire knew which victim was next, he added, “The perfect combination of our blood type and hormones apparently reveals itself through auras only vampires can see.”

Alexander was so matter-of-fact, so careless that his master spent his time looking at potential humans, I wanted to slap some sense back into him. He had to be brainwashed and conditioned to the lifestyle he now lived. I wouldn’t—couldn’t—think that any other scenario was possible, and that he liked this way of living. Not that it could possibly be called living.

Alexander was doing nothing more than scraping out an existence.

I glanced around the huge, open living and dining room, and the pristine stainless steel kitchen that looked as if it’d never been used, along with the big black leather lounge. Little wonder. There was no television, not even a radio, from what I could see.

Bloody hell. What did Alexander do up here aside from worship the bloodsucker? A mental image filled my mind of Alexander pacing the floor, even as I realized his master ensured he was mentally locked away from the world as much as physically.

He was little more than a prisoner in an ivory tower.

I squashed a surge of sympathy for the man. I wouldn’t allow tender sensibilities to blind me to the truth. He was living with the devil and I had no doubt that at least some of the vampire’s evil had rubbed off on him.

I kept my tone bland. “Then I guess he’s not expecting me to live all that long?”

Alexander shrugged. “My master likes to cover all bases.”

I shuddered with revulsion. It didn’t take much of an imagination to understand that the bloodsucker ensured a perfect donor didn’t slip past his notice. I pushed away from the elevator. My muscles suddenly unlocked and I stumbled. It was like being released from a force field.

When Alexander once again fastened his hand around my arm to keep me from falling, I jerked out of his grasp at the electric current of awareness. It was bad enough I was drawn to him. I refused to let him touch me and reveal an even deeper awareness.

Yet if I’d met him outside this building and under normal circumstances, I would have been fascinated by him. I couldn’t even conceive what he’d seen up here, what he’d lived through.

I sucked in a ragged breath, reminding myself not to feel sympathy for him. I wouldn’t justify his way of living. “You mentioned a shower?”

He nodded and I walked stiffly past him before opening the bathroom door. Snapping it shut behind me, I leaned weak-kneed against the cool wood. Of course, there was no lock on the door, but I wasn’t stupid enough to imagine the vampire who’d kidnapped me would have any trouble breaking it down.

He’d certainly had no trouble carrying me away from the alley where he’d found me. A shortcut I’d taken on my way home to the train station from a late shift at work.

I shivered. Both at the memory and at the monster who’d forcibly brought me here. Was the bloodsucker even now aware of my every movement? Did he have enhanced hearing and senses, or was that just in the movies?

I tugged off my clothes with jerky, uncoordinated hands. Hell, my whole body trembled and shook, flushing hot and cold. I gripped the towel rail and took a long look at my reflection.

Fuck. I look like shit.

Men had always found me attractive. A face and body, nothing more. They’d run if they saw me now. Perhaps the vampire would be turned off, too?

Yeah, except he wouldn’t simply let you go. He’d dispose of you. Dump your body in a river or dumpster. And no one would even know or care that you were gone.

Shivers racked my body now, my eyes glittering wildly, my face shiny with sweat and my hair tangled even in its ponytail. I looked physically sick and mentally deranged.

My belly cramped, as though a giant fist had reached inside and squeezed hard. I gasped, clutching at my middle.

What had that leech done to me?

I spun away from my reflection and reached for the tap lever, opening the spray full pelt and adjusting it to scalding before I stepped under its heat. The water could have burned away my skin and I wouldn’t have noticed. Every molecule of my body was snapping and snarling with need.

I. Would. Not. Succumb.

I squeezed my eyes closed and focused, single-mindedly centering on anything but the yearning tearing me apart inside. Building walls around my emotions where nothing could reach me.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when it worked. Lord only knew I’d had plenty of practice. I’d withdrawn into myself and slipped into my own world enough of times in the past. Locked myself away as my mother shot up yet again, or screwed another man in the bedroom near to mine in order to score her next hit.

How many times had I blocked out the grunts and groans, the hiss of a junkie rush, and gone someplace else in my mind? Until my apparent complete disregard of my mother’s drug dependency and lifestyle had caused her to send me packing.

It was only after she’d died from an overdose that I’d wondered if she’d sent me away to protect me. Not because I retreated into my own mind. I hadn’t seen her final downfall, hadn’t had to fend off the johns she’d fucked for money.

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