“Oh,” Elyse breathed as her hand went to her mouth. One of her guards hadalwaysbeen inside with her when the visitors arrived. They opened the door and either gestured the vamp inside or said “come in” to them. “You really have to be invited inside? That’s not some myth?”
“It’s real,” Saxon confirmed.
“So, if I’d left you on the porch instead of dragging you in here…?”
“I couldn’t have entered unless you invited me in.”
Elyse didn’t know how to react. She’d been safe inside here; well, as safe as she could possibly be in this place, and she’d dragged her enemy through the fucking door. “Perfect.”
Saxon smiled at her. “Thank you for not letting me freeze.”
She set the chair on the ground and mentally berated herself, but she couldn’t beat herself up too much when she hadn’t known. She still had no idea what was going to happen, and she had to make sure he never found out what she could do. But, so far, he hadn’t killed her or tried to attack her, and he’d said he was going to get her out of here.
It may be foolish, but for now, she was choosing to believe him. She didn’t have any other options.
“Anytime,” she said.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Saxon hated the idea of leaving her standing by the door, but he wanted to give her some time to realize he wasn’t a threat. He glanced at his jacket and almost took it with him; instead, he decided to leave it. Hopefully, it would be another indication he meant her no harm. Besides, if she tried to stake him in the shower, he’d drag her in there with him.
He smiled at the image the possibility brought to mind as he strode down the hall. The feisty little human with striking eyes would be a pleasant way to stay warm on what was bound to be a cold night. This cabin had to have a fireplace, or at least he hoped it did because, after his shower, he was going to start a fire to keep them warm.
Opening the first door he came to, Saxon discovered a twin bed pushed against the far wall. A scarred table sat beside the bed, and a battered dresser stood beside him. Dust coated the furniture, and opening the door caused balls of it to float into the corners.
Grime coated the floor, and the blankets on the bed were a tumbled heap at the bottom of the mattress. This room was filthy compared to what he’d seen of the rest of the house; he suspected it was because Elyse didn’t come in here.
Placing the flashlight on the dresser, he opened the top drawer and discovered a pair of wool socks. There were a couple of T-shirts and some boxers in another drawer, but most were empty. He strode over to the closet and pulled open the sliding doors.
Removing some of the jeans, he looked at their sizes before tossing them aside. Due to the assortment of sizes, he guessed at least three different Savages had slept in this room, maybe more. He finally found a black sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants he could make work.
Turning, he stared around the room again. What had been going on here? What were they doing with Elyse, and why hadn’t they turned or killed her? He had a feeling he might not get the answers to those questions unless he compelled them from her, but taking over her mind would be the last resort.
Even then, he didn’t think he could do it. He’d used his powers more times than he could count over the years, but the idea of using them on Elyse made his stomach churn.
When he exited the room, he saw the open bathroom door diagonally across the hall. Beside it was another closed door. He glanced down the hall but didn’t see Elyse. He seriously doubted she would make a run for it, but it would be nice if she made some noise so he knew where she was. Then, he heard the scrape of what he assumed was the couch on the floor.
He stopped outside the closed door of her room. Curious as to what lay beyond, he rested his hand on the knob but didn’t turn it. If he wanted her to trust him, then going through her room was not the way to go about it. He retreated to the bathroom, but he left the door open to hear her if she approached.
Elyse stopped shoving against the couch when the water turned on. Her heart skipped a beat as she imagined Saxon peeling off his clothes before climbing under the stream of water. She had no doubt the man was more chiseled than Michelangelo’s David, and the water running over him would only emphasize every sculpted muscle. What she wouldn’t give to run her fingers over his etched flesh before dipping her hand between his legs and….
Disgust at herself filled her, and she gave the couch another shove. She was pretty hard up if she was getting all drooly over a vampire. Sex had been the last thing on her mind since coming here, but Saxon could make a nun contemplate sinning.
The stake Saxon plucked from her had fallen near the doorway of what she’d come to consider the den. If it had gone a few inches further, she would have written it off as a lost cause, but she should do that anyway; the thing had proven useless.
Still, she set it on the table next to the flashlight before she finished pushing the couch back into place. Next, she pushed the coffee table back and limped away. Her feet had been feeling better, but now they ached, and a few of the scratches were bleeding again. Because they were wet and bloody, she’d thrown out the bindings she used on her extremities to drag Saxon inside; she would have to find something else to use now.
She lifted the torn sheets she’d used to tie up Saxon and wiped away her blood before wrapping one of them around her foot to stop the bleeding. The last thing she wanted was to leave a blood trail with a vamp in the house.
When she finished, she lifted the flashlight from the table and wandered into the kitchen to toss the rest of the sheets away. She picked up the larger broken pieces of the chair and threw them out before getting the broom and dustpan from the closet to sweep the floor.
She’d spent a lot of time cleaning while she was here and couldn’t stand to see it messy. It was a stupid thing to do, but she had to find something to occupy her time as she’d read all of the whopping twelve books they’d given her numerous times. There was only so much TV someone could watch before contemplating running headfirst into a wall. Cleaning had proven to be one of the few distractions she had here—as much as she could be distracted in this place and considering she didn’t clean all the rooms.
Dumping the contents of the dustpan in the trash, she returned the broom to the closet and closed the door. Outside, the lonely howl of the wind made her shiver as she reclaimed the flashlight and walked over to stand before the window above the kitchen sink. The white curtains framing the window rippled in the draft filtering through the old pane as she turned the water on and let it trickle into the basin.
She guessed the cabin was built in the fifties as its age showed in the warped floors, creaky doors, drafty windows, and mildew aroma, which was much stronger in the summer. The appliances were all newer, stainless steel, and the cabinets were all new, but that couldn’t hide the actual age of this place.
Outside, the wind whipped snow across the open field to create drifts taller than her. They were going to be here for a while, she realized with a sinking heart.
