Page 2 of Elegy of Twilight
The sound ripped out of my throat as I thrashed, banging my head against the tree trunk in order to escape him. Eyes squeezed tight, I waited for teeth to close around my throat, but the pain never came.
Chest heaving, I waited a bit longer, then peeked one eye open, then both.
The vampire still stood there, staring at me. “Are you quite done?” he asked.
“Please don’t eat me,” I begged.
A cruel laugh came from his lips. “Why not? You were left here to be a sacrifice to me. Were you not?”
“I. . .” I broke off, unsure what to say, and determined not to give away the hunters.Where were they?
His eyes practically glowed as he placed one hand on the tree beside my head. “But you have a dirty secret, don’t you? You’re not truly here to be a sacrifice but to lay a trap…for me.”
How did he know?
“You don’t have to worry about the hunters. I sent them to sleep with my lute. It’s just you and me.”
My heart stopped. “What are you going to do with me?”
He cocked his head. “I’m not sure yet. Depends.”
“On?”
“How entertaining you are.”
I bit my lip, but a whimper exploded from my throat anyway. I’d grown up sheltered in the abbey, but even so, I had a faint idea of what kind ofentertainment I might provide as both a meal and. . . something else.
He narrowed his gaze, studying me. “My words distress you.”
Leaning closer, he placed two fingers on my neck and trailed them along the silver runes glistening there. The muscles of my neck constricted, but there was nowhere to go.
Rough fingers caressed my skin as though I were a stringed instrument and just the faintest touch would coax the sweetest tunes. A shuddering breath came and then another when he did not drop his head and bite me. Tonight, I’d have to play his game, and when the sun rose, I’d escape. Except sunrise was so far away.
“Your runes are beautiful,” he purred. “Have you always had them?”
Beautiful. He was the first to call my runes beautiful, but of course, a demented vampire king would think so. Curiosity glittered on his face, and sensing no danger in the question, I gathered my courage and answered, “I have. I was born with them.”
He fidgeted with his belt and pulled out a knife, the glint of it clear in the reflection of light the pool gave off.
My throat went tight. I wanted to look elsewhere,to stare at the cascading waterfall or the ripples in the pool, but my gaze would not be torn from that knife.
“Please,” I begged. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it quickly.”
Befuddled amusement crossed his face. “I’m beginning to think you have the wrong idea about me, lady of the moon.”
The knife disappeared as he pressed his body against mine. I felt the hard lines of his body, solid chest, a deep, masculine scent, and the heat of his breath. The rope fell away from my waist, although my arms were still tied.
He was still too near, and he bent his dark head, lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “We are going somewhere quiet where we can talk, so no more screams, or I’ll have to gag that pretty mouth of yours.”
A silk cloth blinded my vision. I stumbled, but strong arms caught me, then hauled me over his shoulder like a log. My face bumped against his back, but it was impossible to steady myself with my hands tied. To show him my displeasure, I grunted. In response, he patted my bottom.
Blood rushed to my head as he carried me semi-upside down. The roar of the waterfall becamelouder rather than more distant. My other senses sharpened without my vision, and I smelled a combination of leather and wood, the sweet musk of closed-in air, the earthy scent of fungi, and the humidity of a closed-in place that had lots of moisture.
The vampire swung me off his back, and I landed on something spongy. I struggled to sit upright as the hiss of a flint striking stone came, and then he was back. His warmth surrounded me as he untied the blindfold, and I realized what disarmed me. He was warm, alive, with a heartbeat like mine. Not cold and dead like vampires were rumored to be. Who was he?
Free to see, I blinked slowly, allowing my vision to adjust to the low light. Concave walls of a cavern arched over me, revealed by pale torchlight. I sat upon a ruined bed while directly in front of me, he perched on the flat top of a rock, which might be used as a table. In one hand, he held a golden goblet and poured something dark and red into it. It might be wine, it might be blood. I shivered.
“This is your home?” I asked.
