Page 31 of Dark Flame
Dormer zips from one end of the room to the other, cutting off the oncoming attack with a vicious snarl I’ll hear in my nightmares for years to come—if I live that long. Blood splays right before the vampire falls to the ground, dead, his head rolling away from his body.
Oh, Goddess, get me the fuck out of here.
Dormer’s a blur towards the other, cutting off that attack and repeating his own. Another head, another body, and plenty more blood spilling onto the once-white granite floor.
He whirls to face me, a monster in human form. Blood-coated fangs elongated, with more blood coating his chin and even the tips of his hair. He seems so much…bigger. His body takes up more space as he seethes. His eyes, a vibrant red, pin me from across the room, as though daring me to react.
He looks dangerous, yet my stomach clenches in a way that whispers something else. That familiar slither of the shadows glides over my neck but doesn’t linger, as they frequently seem to not when around Dormer. This time, it’s more like a nudge in the direction he—my monster, captor, and protector—stands.
A motion comes from behind him as the first vampire he tossed out of the way gets unsteadily to his feet before sprinting towards Dormer. I open my mouth to warn him because, as messed up as everything is, my captor is my best bet in a room full of war-hungry bloodsuckers. At least to him, I’m valuable and not a meal.
As fast as a sound leaves my throat, Dormer whirls, catching the vampire by his neck in an unyielding grip. He lifts him off the ground, the man’s feet dangling a few inches above.
When Dormer speaks, it’s a deep growl masked by fangs and gore, and with a ferociousness I could never have made up. “You thought you could usurp me? That was your first mistake. Your second was thinking you could touch her.”
“My liege—” His words cut off when my captor’s hand punches inside his chest. I think I shriek, all bravado disappearing when Dormer twists his hand and yanks from his chest a black organ—a heart.
The vampire slumps forward, his pale skin flushing even whiter before the body is dumped unceremoniously on the ground. Keeping the heart in his grip, he turns to the audience.
“Take what happened here as a fucking warning. The Sinclair witch ismycaptive.Mineto do with how I see fit. If I choose, I could lock her away from all of you, ensuring her family line ends—and thus the cure. See it as mercy I’m granting you the ability to regain your dreaded human lives.” He holds the heart up before rotating his wrist and dropping it beside the deceased body. “If anyone dares to question me again, this will be the outcome of your stupidity. If any of you even fuckinglookat her, you will die. Leave, now, all of you.”
Like magick, every vampire in the room disappears in a massive blur, obeying his command before they end up on the wrong side of his mood. Only two remain: the one I’ve guessed to be his friend, given he’s the only one who approached all night, and the one who won the bid on my blood.
That one drops to his knees, his head lowering. “My liege, I hope our deal still stands?—”
“I don’t break agreements with those who show respect,” Dormer interrupts with an irritated flick of his hand that gives me an idea of what he would have been like as a human ruler. “Stand. You’ll receive what you paid for shortly.”
Right. With everything, I’d almost forgotten about the bid.Almost, but after being nearly attacked by three vampires, pouring a bit of blood into this guy’s mouth—or however Dormer is planning on doing this—seems so insignificant.
He turns my way, pinning me with that gaze of his that makes me want to bolt while also remaining unmoving. Eyes that are no duller than moments ago, blood now drying, crusting on his face.
He’s like a nightmare and a dream come to life. A physical embodiment of fear, yet as he approaches, I’m overcome with a sense of safety wrapping me in its arms. For better or worse, he saved me. Only to protect what he believes is his investment, but still. For now, I’m breathing because he didn’t allow them near me.
I’m frozen in place as he stops short, his hand darting for my arms. His fingers are stained with blood, but thankfully it isn’t the hand that ripped out a heart. That one is coated in gore up to the wrist, and the scent tickles my nose.
As though reading my thoughts, he wipes that hand on his pants before unclasping the cuffs with a jerk of the metal. “You better hope on your life this works.”
The cuffs drop to my feet, my wrists immediately lighter, but the vision that slams into me pushes me right back down.
“Come on, time to go.” Cuffs land by my feet, my arms feeling lighter than they have since I was put in here.
Dormer yanks me towards the other vampire, snapping me from my thoughts. A memory? Whatever it was…I glance towards the scars on my wrists.Impossible.Maybe it was a premonition of what’s to come, even though I’ve never had those before. It would explain hearing his voice, if so.
At this point, I’ll lump all the weirdness together and tie it in a giant bow marked with a big question mark. Topped with my shadowy tormentors, of course.
He snaps his fingers and, seemingly out of nowhere, a guy appears with a goblet—a human, based on his blue eyes and scared demeanor—handing it off before he skitters out of the ballroom. I watch him go, wondering how many people Dormer has captive here.
He gestures towards me, slipping a knife from his pocket, telling me all this was pre-planned. Unless he walks around with weapons on him for fun. “You’ll bleed into the cup, and that is all that will be required.”
His friend wanders closer as Dormer places the blade by the meaty part of my hand, and I shuffle my feet until I have him in a better view, just in case he’s someone I need to worry about attacking me once the bleeding starts.
The slice that’ll be the start of so much more—the lineups outside the castle about to ensue—is only stopped by the other vampire interrupting. “Wait. How do you know how much to bleed from her?”
“A few sips is all it’ll take,” Dormer answers.
“Are you certain?”
“According to the history of my family, yes,” I chime in, irritated. The bloodsucker is about to be handed immortality atmyexpense, and he’s complaining?
