Page 5 of Skin Trade

“Know?” He leant into her, his mouth at her ear. “I know everything, sweetheart.” He tossed her a wink as he stepped in front of her to lead her to his vehicle. He clutched her hand in his, and she was thankful he had let her keep the collar off and not insisted she wear cuffs or something like that. Her body wasn’t ready for another round of chains and shackles.

Humidity hung in the alleyway like a thick cloak, making it hard to breathe … or maybe it was him and the way he was with her making it hard to breathe. He’d dried her, dressed her, cared for her in a way she couldn’t describe as gentle, but it wasn’t rough either. Strong perhaps was what she was thinking.

He strode purposely with her in tow and held her hand like a protector, firm with every inch. Not like Creven. He’d held her like an owner, a possession, something that was his.

Payton expected a limousine to be parked around the corner, or perhaps a motorcycle. Yes. He seemed like the kind of man who probably rode a motorcycle, all leathers and tight … she bit her lip. No.

A bike probably wasn’t the only thing he rode.

His ride was neither. Instead of a limo or a bike, he had a car. She’d have said normal car, but it was black and sleek and low to the ground, some expensive make she didn’t have a clue anymore of identifying. So much had changed.

"You have two choices," he said when they reached the car, and he stopped, trapping her between his body and the car. "You can sit in the front with me and be a good girl, or, you can sit in the back, alone."

The windows of the car were black. All cars were like that. They blocked out the lights, blocked out everything, usually for transportation of vampires, but it also doubled as a good place for sensory deprivation, especially on long trips, and the images of that scorched her brain so much she winced.

“The front please.”

He gave a curt nod, stepped out of her way and opened the door. “After you.”

She was thankful to get into the car and out of the sticky night heat. Two minutes outside and the gown she wore clung to her skin and hid nothing of her nakedness underneath it.

“Eight years,” she said as he drove. He raised a brow at her. “Before. You asked me how long since I had been outside. That’s my answer.”

“Eight years? You’ve been with Creven since?”

“Since I was thirteen years old. Yes.” She sat straighter in her seat and peered out into the streets. Everything was brightly lit — steel buildings lined with neon lights. Greys offset by pinks and blues and any other colour going. The buildings were grey metal monsters stretching up into the sky. She’d missed so much. “What’s your name?” she asked when she turned away from the window. All the bright lights made her eyes water. “If it is okay to ask.”

“It is.” He nodded, flicked on the indicator and turned the car onto another road that was just the same as the one they’d left. “Seth,” he said.

“Seth …” She tested the name on her lips. Before dressing her, Seth had braided her hair. He’d woven it with long fingers into a long plait that fell down her back. It was hard to reconcile someone who would do that with the name Seth. Especially with the way he had moved his fingers …

“You're thinking about something again. What is it?”

"Nothing," she said. They stopped at a set of red lights, and from where she was positioned, she could see down one of the side streets. It was all dark and shadows, and something hunched over tripped out of the dark and into the main street. Its skin hung from its body and even from where they were, she could see the scraps of hair on its scalp. She grimaced.

The leather of Seth’s seat creaked as he moved and leant over her. “The thirsty,” he said, and she jumped at the whisper of him right in her ear.

“Thirsty? You mean they’re starving?”

“Yep.”

A car pulled up near to the thing, and a man got out. He was big and broad and dressed more like a gunslinger from a movie, except he didn't have a gun, he had a blade, and as quick as he had got out of his car, he raised his blade and brought it down on the thing's neck and took its head.

Payton jerked away and covered her face with her hands. “Have the lights not changed yet?” she asked, choking back on what she had just seen.

“Depends on the power grid. Seen enough?”

She nodded. “I think the world may be worse than when I last saw it.”

“You may be right.”

The light did turn green, but he didn’t set off. He was watching her again, those intense eyes, that deep stare … it dug into her being and held her motionless. He could scoop into her mind with those eyes of his. “What is it?” she croaked out, afraid of her own voice.

“If this is to work, we need a ground rule. I want honesty, at all times.”

“I give you honesty.”

A flicker of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Then what were you thinking about before?"

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