Page 66 of Radiant Shadows

Hadrian and Marguerite had been planning this a long time. I should have never come back here after Canada.

She had easily subdued me and chained my cuffs to the headboard. This lavish, mercifully comfortable bed had been my prison for the last day or so while she bit me incrementally to drain me of blood until I had become her listless doll, her helpless plaything.

Marguerite trailed a delicate fingertip down my bare chest and over my abs, admiring the ridges of my muscles.

“We were always meant to be, Julian,” she said. “And the sooner you see that, the sooner this torment can be over. All you have to do is accept that you belong to me now. We can still be happy together.”

I turned my head to let it loll back in her direction, and I scowled up at her monstrously beautiful face.

“I may be your prisoner, but I will never be yours.” My voice was dry and low, but the flicker of anger in her eyes told me she heard it all the same.

But the anger was quickly replaced with challenge, another flirtatious grin forming on her face. “We’ll see about that.”

She shimmied down the bed, and for a moment, I thought she was going to leave. But before relief could bloom in my chest, I felt her hair drape over the tops of my exposed thighs. I struggled to lift my head, managing only a fraction of a second to see her crouched over my pelvis, her lips parting with hungry delight.

I hissed as if in pain when her lips wrapped around the tip of my limp cock. She obviously took that as a sign of encouragement because she moaned and sucked me in completely, massaging the flaccid appendage with her tongue.

I experienced no pleasure from her perverse invasion. Only disgust, a dirty, unclean feeling creeping over the surface of my skin. It filled me with rage and hatred for her, even more than had already been there. But there was nothing I could do about this latest violation. My body wouldn’t respond to any command for retaliation.

So I decided to just lay there and do nothing at all. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction from me. The copper and blood loss and whatever else that assailed me made it easy to withdraw into myself, so I would hide in my shell and ignore whatever she wanted to do to me.

I didn’t know how much time went by as she sucked me to no avail. My cock proved just as limp and unresponsive as the restof my body, and it gave me great gratification to see her building aggravation over that fact.

Finally, she spit me out and popped back up, slapping her hands onto my thighs with a growl of frustration. “Ugh, what is it going to take to make you want me?”

“Maybe take the cuffs off and I’ll have more stamina,” I croaked smugly.

She glared at me and curled her fingers, digging her sharp nails into my marble flesh. But I could hardly feel the pain. It couldn’t cut through the white noise of my thousand other discomforts and misery.

With a feral growl, she pushed off the bed. “Maybe some time apart will do us both some good.” Then she stomped off toward the door.

In my peripheral vision, I could see her pause and turn to look in my direction.

“Mark my words, Julian Asher: by the time I’m done with you, youwilllove me,” she promised in a venomous tone.

Then I heard the door slam.

And I was alone. Relief washed over me, parts of my body I hadn’t even realized I’d tensed releasing into a pool of lethargy.

Ironic that this would happen now. After I’d finally given myself permission to live again, toloveagain. I’d found the family I’d wanted for so long, only to be taken away from them and made a toy for one of the monsters I hated most.

Would I ever see Shea and Caesar again? Would I ever get the chance to tell Shea how I really felt about her, to tell Caesar that I loved him more than a brother? I didn’t see a way of getting out of this.

I could try to play along, try to convince Marguerite that her games were working, and pretend to love her. But for all her vanity, she could always see through my lies. It would take acting skills I didn’t believe I could access in my current state.

The more likely outcome was that I’d be her prisoner forever and eventually break, the shattered creature I’d become ending up twistedly dependent on her, like a Stockholm Syndrome victim. I’d sooner die than let that happen. I’d rather piss her off to the point she either slaughtered me or tired of me and left me to rot in one of the dungeon cells below. At least then, I’d be free of her vile company.

I let my mind go silent, no longer wanting to watch the mental projections of my various horrible fates. And when the call of sleep whispered to me, I willingly succumbed to it, desperate to escape this hell for any length of time. Slumber wasn’t easy for vampires, but as drained as I was, it would’ve been difficult to fight. And in sleep, there’s the chance to dream.

Through the melancholy of my dark unconscious, a scene formed. I found myself in my old room at the Skye Boarding House.

“Hello, my love.”

My heart leapt at the beautifully familiar voice, and I spun to find my beloved Alice standing behind me, dressed in the sweet lavender gown she’d always favored in life.

“Alice,” I murmured, my voice crisp and ringing through the diaphanous silence.

I tried to go to her, but my legs wouldn’t move, stuck as if trapped in thick mud. My heart cracked, my inability to close the distance between us more painful than anything I’d endured in the waking world. Even in dreams, I couldn’t hold her.

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