Page 15 of Blood Bound

“Wait, do you want me to follow you?” I ask, my eyes narrowing as I look at him with apprehension. Is this a fucking trap?

He sighs as if I’m boring him to death. “Gods, did the lack of sunlight shrink your brain? Yes, I want you to follow me and hurry the fuck up because I don’t have all damn day,” he says, then turns to walk away again.

I blink, then moving my eyes forward, I slowly move away from the wall to follow him. It’s been five days, and I still cannot look at the bodies lying on those stone slabs; I refuse to acknowledge them, especially the smallest one.

Valentine is waiting for me at the top of the stone steps, and as soon as I reach the landing, he grabs me by the upper arm and drags me further. I realize now that I was being kept in the same place my hunters rescued me from, but there’s no hint of any shootout happening here.

The house seems old, almost Victorian, and it makes me wonder if it’s, in fact, a mansion. The decor appears to reflect an older time; painting on the walls, velvet drapes, and antique furniture, yet there’s a beauty to it.

But even though it seems ancient, I don’t smell any dust or decay, almost as if the owner is proud of their home.

It doesn’t seem like a biker gang’s clubhouse or a vampire nest.

Valentine continues to drag me along the place, and as he leads me upstairs, I can feel the eyes of vamps stationed at almost every corner.

They all show me the same crimson glare as if they’re ready to kill me at any second, but I ignore it because it’s not them I’m worried about.

The decor is the same up here, and when he comes to a stop in front of a wooden door, he removes an old brass key to open it. When we step inside, I realize that it’s a bedroom, a very lush, expensive-looking bedroom.

Crimson drapes, cream-colored bedding that looks soft to the touch, expensive-looking furniture, and art decorate the walls and floor.

The bed itself is a literal four-poster Victorian masterpiece with red velvet drapes held back with gold fabric tie-backs.

I whirl around to face Valentine and arch a questioning brow. “What is this? Why am I here?”

He lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug, then leans against the door jamb with folded arms.

“From one cell to the next, although this one is a bit more comfortable. Gabriel wants you to clean up and get yourself ready to have dinner with him later. There’s clothing in the walk-in closet, all in your size –”

“Wait, wait; hold the fuck on,” I say with a furrowed brow while letting out an incredulous scoff. “What? He wants what?”

“I don’t like to repeat myself, Kitty Kat. Clean your ass up, get into something sexy because the Pres wants you to join him for dinner. I’ll be back to collect you in two hours, so you better be fucking ready,” he says, then walks out of the bedroom and shuts the door.

I hear the turning of a lock, then the sliding of the bolt before his heavy footsteps retreat to somewhere deeper inside the house.

It takes a few seconds for what he’s said to sink in, and when it does, a full-on panic attack takes control of my body. I sink to the floor, my hands trembling and my breathing becoming shallow gasps.

What the fuck is Priest planning? Why take me from a tomb to a literal five-star hotel suite? Shit, I need to get up and find a weapon; find anything that I can protect myself with for when Valentine comes back to get me.

But half an hour later, I realize there’s nothing in this room I can turn into any sort of weapon because everything here is made of a soft plastic that cannot break or twist.

Everything, from the mirrors to the toothbrushes and even the beautiful bed, which looks wooden at first glance, is made from the same odd material.

In other words, I’m royally fucked.

Sighing, I walk back into the bathroom and strip myself naked, so I can at least wash the last few days away. The soaps have a delicious vanilla scent to them, and so do the shampoos, and I take my time in the shower until I feel somewhat normal.

After drying my body, I was about to walk over to the walk-in closet when the long drapes at the window caught my eye again. Frowning, I walk over to it and pull them back while fully expecting the windows to be blacked out.

Imagine my surprise when I just caught the sunset through glass windows.

“What the fuck?” I murmur, tapping the glass. It seems thick and bulletproof, so I won’t even attempt to escape from here. Not that I can, anyway; we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. I’ll die of sunstroke before the vamps even get to me.

But why leave me in a room with windows? What’s Priest’s deal?

Sighing heavily, I walk into the closet, knowing that Valentine will be here any minute, but I scoff when I see the clothing in here: all tight dresses, tight jeans, blouses, and high heels. No boots or flats except for fluffy lamb-faced slippers.

Haha, very funny, Priest.

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