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CHAPTER2
Britney
"Unhand me, you fiend!" I hiss at the vampire who holds me securely in his arms. My face is flaming both in anger and at his nearness. The feeling of his entire body pressed flush up against mine is doing all sorts of crazy and unsettling things to my body. I feel a strange wetness between my legs as well as a pulsing that makes me hyperaware of everything.
He has the audacity to laugh, his chest rumbling and that rumble traveling straight through me. His arrogance only serves to incense me further so that I struggle in his hold, pushing against his chest that's like hard, cold granite.
My efforts are futile, though, for there's no budging him. He's impossibly strong. It was foolish of me to think that I would ever be able to get the upper hand on him.
I now know why Henry is the most dangerous and powerful vampire in the city. It's not just that he's the oldest and that he's incredibly strong, but he's seductively handsome and charming as well. He even had me fooled in the beginning. I didn't have a clue who or what he was until he confessed his name to me.
And that knowledge stings my pride a bit. I've always prided myself on being able to sniff out a vampire, yet this one had held me in his arms, and I had been completely unaware.
"A fiend, you say?" his voice dripping with amusement. "Such strong words for such a little thing." I feel his thumbs rubbing circles on the small of my back and fight the shiver of delight that threatens to run through me. I don't want to admit that his touch feels good.
"Let me go," I hiss at him again, but he just pulls me even closer.
"What if I don't want to let you go, Britney?" His voice is seductively low and husky.
My breath stutters, and I feel my heart beating erratically in my chest. I scowl at my body's traitorous response to him and renew my effort to get away from him.
"I don't want anything to do with a murderer," I spit at him with all the venom I can muster.
That seems to do the trick because he suddenly releases me as if burned.
He stumbles back from me and frowns. "Murderer? What makes you say that?"
I scoff. He actually looks genuinely shocked and hurt that I accused him of murder, which is laughable at best since he's a bloodsucker.
"That's what your kind does, isn't it?" I cross my arms across my chest as I glare at him.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, his frown only deepens before he decides to play dumb. "My kind?" he asks as if he has no idea what I'm referring to.
"Don't play dumb with me," I warn him. "I know exactly who and what you are."
He takes a step toward me, and I fight the instinct to take a step back. I refuse to show fear in the face of this vampire.
"And what, pray tell, little one, is that?" His voice is like liquid chocolate. It warms my skin with its decadence. Low and smooth, he sounds completely unconcerned with the course of our conversation. Of course, he would be, though. Vampires are notoriously cocky. They think they're indestructible, but they're not. I've rid the earth of plenty of them, and Henry is soon to be one more.
When I don't immediately answer him, he hits me with another question. "Why don't you tell me why you tried to stab me in the back just now with a wooden stake, hmm?" He asks the question like he's speaking to a recalcitrant child. He takes another step and completely closes the distance between us, putting a finger to my chin to tilt my head up to meet his golden brown gaze.
"Because you're a vampire." I finally find the voice to answer him, and I try my best to make that voice sound as strong as possible even though the touch of his finger on my chin is burning me like a brand.
He doesn't immediately respond to my accusation. Instead, he grips my chin in his strong hand and tilts my head this way and that as if he's studying a specimen, looking for any sign of imperfection.
My cheeks flush under his strange perusal, and then he tilts my head to the side. He moves his lips down to my neck, and I tense. I feel the brush of his lips and his breath fanning over my tender skin as she rasps lowly. "If I'm a vampire, then by all accounts, I should be biting your neck and sipping from your blood, shouldn't I?"
I hear him inhale deeply as if he's an animal scenting me. I should be struggling to get away from him, but I'm like a willing lamb set before the slaughter. I'm suddenly lax in his hold, and I feel a tingling throb in my neck right where his lips are hovering, almost as if my body wants him to bite me.
I'm transfixed with both this odd want and horror at that desire. Then, I feel his lips press very gently against my neck. He kisses my throbbing flesh tenderly before he finally pulls back and then gazes back down at me.
I gasp when I see that his eyes are glowing fully golden now, no brown in sight anymore.
"I may be a vampire, little one, but I'm no murderer," Henry finally confesses, his jaw clenching strong and proud.
I let out a breathy laugh. Is he deluding himself? He really looks like he believes what he says. "How can you say that when you drink blood to survive?"
His eyes pin me with their intensity. He speaks slowly when he speaks again. "It's true. I drink blood for survival, but drinking blood doesn't always have to end with the draining of life, little one."
