Page 17 of Trapped for Her Blood
I need blood. That is something I can no longer deny. Other than that tiny sip from Ember’s palm, nearly ten days ago, I cannot remember the last time I took a vein. Even my memory is slipping.
One of my strategies to restrain my dark urges is to stretch out the time between feedings. While that might have worked on the outside—when I could carefully control my life and activities—nothing about these past days has been under my control.
Sensing someone nearby, I glance around as best I can from my prone position.
Heavy boots draw closer, now about twenty feet away. Without moving, I open my eyes slightly and scan to assess the danger.
The leather clad legs above the boots are shapely, female, rising to curvaceous hips and a comparatively tiny waist, under a form-fitting leather jacket. My eyes rise higher. I have seen this female before. Gracen, the one who took the monster’s cock, so I did not have to fight him to save Ember’s life.
Standing, I brush off my suit and straighten my tie.
“Morning,professor,” she says, a clear mocking tone in her voice. I cannot always determine the emotions and motives of others, but hers are very much on the surface at the moment. She leans back against the wall, in a casual and seductive pose so deliberate it’s like theatre.
“Have you seen her?” I ask.
“Who?” Her head tips to the side as she presses her bosom out.
“You know who I mean.” I try to disguise my frown. I need information.
“You mean your mate?” She runs a hand over one of her thighs as if to draw my attention there. “Lose her already?” She clicks her tongue as she shakes her head.
“We were separated.”
“She find someone better? Someone less…fancy?” She licks her lips. “It’s survival of the fittest down here, professor. But if you’reniceto me, I might be your ally. I don’t mind fancy.”
Her thinly veiled invitation for sex is also a warning and reminder that not every vampire down here is a political prisoner such as myself. Many are more likely criminals whose offenses are so heinous they fall outside the bounds of the vampiric judicial system. I can only imagine what those crimes might be. But knowing that makes it all the more urgent for me to find Ember.
“I did not lose her,” I say more sharply than I mean to. “I was taken for questioning and had to leave her behind.”
“Questioning?” She pushes off the wall, clear surprise and interest in her expression. “Where?”
“That is not your concern.” My strength has returned, as much as I suspect that it will until I feed. I glance around, taking in my surroundings and trying to place myself in the maze of tunnels I have already seen.
I am certain I have not seen the large iron gates behind me before. Or the torch lit corridor leading away from them.
“Have you seen her? My mate?”
She cocks her head to the side, the hair in her dark ponytail swaying. “I’m starting to wonder if she really is your mate, professor.”
“I am not a professor.”
She laughs. “Only a professor would give a shit whether or not he was called one.”
“If Iwerea professor I would…” I stop myself, realizing she’s teasing me, that my desire to clarify the facts is her point.
I’m getting nowhere with this vampire, so I turn away from her, moving from the gates I was dumped through after my vicious beating.
“Not staying for the feeding?” she asks, and I stop.
My fangs pulse at her words, and I turn back toward her. “Did you say feeding?”
She nods. “Your need for blood is written all over your face.” She laughs. “More than just your face. You should see yourself.” Still chuckling, she shakes her head.
“I am hungry. Yes.” There is no point in my denying this.
“Then I’d stick around here, if I were you.”
“How are feedings carried out?” I ask.
