Page 43 of Blood Owed (Blood Mafia 1)
Hours pass again, and I fall asleep with an aching head and heavy heart.
Waiting for the end is worse than death.
Chapter Thirteen
Demi
The next time I wake up I’m tied to a bed. Ripples of terror skate over my skin when I see someone’s changed my clothes. I’m wearing a simple black slip and nothing more.
I pinch my eyes shut and buck against the restraints. These are much tighter and don’t have nearly as much give. I can hardly lift my hand.
“Fucking cocksuckers.” My voice cracks around the last word, and I finally give in to tears.
This can’t be real. They wouldn’t, would they?
Why the hell else would they tie me to a bed?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper and jerk my wrists repeatedly against the rope. My wounds from yesterday reopen, and a trickle of blood trails down my arm. “Fuck.”
A speaker crackles, and I whip my head from side to side, searching for the stupid piece of shit box.
“Stop.”
I freeze, unintentionally doing what he asks because I can’t find the speaker. Then when I realize what I’ve done, I start to fight the restraints.
“You’re going to hurt yourself, stop.”
Oh, he doesn’t want to have an injured woman?
This only gives me more energy to pull and tug as I desperately try to get out of these tightly tied ropes. “Fuck you,” I yell the words at the ceiling and flop onto the bed.
The speaker clicks off and the lights go out in the bedroom, pitching me into unbearable darkness. The door slams open, and I press into the mattress, trying to let it swallow me up so I can disappear.
I can’t see his face since it’s so dark, but he’s tall, nearly 6’0” and he’s stacked. He’ll be impossible to fight. Especially tied up. He’s wearing a long sleeve gray shirt and soft black pants. Casual and easy to take off. Bile rises in my throat.
“Stop hurting yourself,” he growls.
Leaning over when he reaches the bed, he grabs my wrists and holds them into place. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, much faster than it should for a vampire.
My eyes widen when I realize why.
I’m bleeding.
Fuck.
Mateo
The damn woman is too stubborn for her own good. She’s rubbed her skin raw and the blood is trickling down her arms. When I get close enough to grab her, the scent of her blood wafts into my nostrils. I meant to scare her by turning out the lights, but the fear I inspired mixed with the delectable scent of her blood is almost too much.
I snatch her wrists and hold them steady. Inhaling deeply, I sift through the familiar smells assaulting me.
Cinnamon, copper, cardamom, and... cherries?
The line between my eyebrow pinches painfully when I furrow my brow as I try to recall how I know her scent.
I lift one of my hands and swipe a bit of her blood onto my finger. Placing it against my tongue, I close my mouth and taste Demi for the first time.
The next instant I’m stumbling away from her, knocking over the bedside table in my haste to get space.
