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Chapter 1
HAYLEY
Fright Fights
I DIG MY fingernails into the bloody dirt. My whole body screams in pain, my neck throbbing because of the vampire bite. Why won’t he just kill me? Why won’t he ensure my final donation?
He kicks me, rolling me onto my back. “Get up. Get up and fight.”
I don’t have it in me. All I can think about is death. I don’t care about life anymore. It was never good for me.
“You’re acting as if you are weak. Get up now and show me what you got. If you don’t get up, Lawrence will come back. You don’t want him to do that. I promise.” The rumbly voice of the vampire vibrates over my cheek as he kneels beside me and grumbles in my ear. “Please.”
I blink a few times, my vision hazy. I don’t understand why he is asking me so politely. He just attacked me, bit my neck, and instead of finishing me off, he’s asking me to survive this torture.
“Kill me.” My words come out as a breathy whisper, and I draw my attention to the vampire’s face for the first time.
He’s filthy. Blood and dirt stain his skin, but his eyes no longer flash silver with starvation. Of course not. He sucked my neck, filling himself up with what he needs to get himself in control. I’ve seen it time and time again in the casino of the Aris.
Doesn’t mean anything, though. Just because he’s satisfied in this moment doesn’t mean he won’t take more of my blood.
His mouth twitches, and his nostrils flare. I rip my focus away and stare at his clothes instead. A rip cuts down the center of the front of what I think might have once been a white shirt, showing off his muscular chest. Jagged tattoos mark his pecs, creating some sort of symbol. I don’t know exactly what it is because part of his torn shirt covers it. It could be a coven crest, but I highly doubt it. Not if he’s here. He looks like an imprisoned Strip dweller. We’re not that far from La Vega...at least, I think.
“So, you’re just giving up. That’s fucking disappointing after what Lawrence told me about you. He thought you would be badass and not some weak, pathetic donor.” The vampire clicks his tongue. “You’re supposed to be better than that.”
My mouth trembles with his words. Me, badass? I can’t be. The few times I’ve tried nearly got me killed. “I’m not. Sex, blood, and bringing in customers. That’s all I’m worth. Lawrence was mistaken.”
Something dark flickers in his eyes, and they flash with what could be blood hunger or desire. Maybe both. Now I regret even mentioning it, but he needs to lower his expectations. He wants me to fight him, but I don’t know how. I’m just a blood donor and dancer.
“Hmm. Of course, you think you are. The La Vega asshole leaders made sure you’d think nothing more of yourself. I’m here to prove them wrong. Now, get up. Get up and fight me. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.” The vampire flashes his fangs, extending them. He bites his wrist and holds it above my face, using his other hand to part my lips until blood pools in my mouth. “You saw the herd out there.”
I intake a sharp breath at not only his comment but also at the tingles zinging down my throat to bloom warmth in my stomach. My body loses control, and I snatch his arm and yank it to my mouth, latching my lips to him. His blood tastes unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
And damn it.
With his blood, the pain in my body subsides. My stomach roars in hunger, and I moan as the sweet, warm liquid courses through me, healing my wounds and filling me with energy. He’s forcing me to live instead of allowing me to beg for death.
He yanks his arm away after another minute, and a surprising guttural growl escapes my lips. I try to grab him again, but he stands up and puts space between us. It takes everything in me not to lunge at him in an attempt to get more.
What is wrong with me? I feel on the verge of...something unexplainable. It’s the same feeling I would get before a show, listening to the audience call for blood. But this time, I feel as if I’m the one about to shout for another taste.
“You like that, don’t you?” The vampire presses his hand over his puncture wounds, staunching the bleeding. “If you get up, you can have more. Wouldn’t you like that? I can see it in your eyes. Lawrence wasn’t kidding about you.”
I heave a couple of breaths, my chest rising and falling as I process his words. Lawrence told me unbelievable things during the car ride here, and this guy obviously believes him. But me? I can’t. If I believe that I’m the dhampir he claims me to be, it makes this real.
This can’t be real.
The vampire wiggles his fingers at me with a teasing smile that digs under my skin. He bites his arm again and taunts me as if I’m some sort of wild animal.
Fuck. This is real.
My stomach screams in pain, the noise loud enough to send the vampire’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead.
“What will it be, my showgirl?” he asks, smirking. “Come to me for another taste, and then we’ll fight. Doesn’t that sound more fun?”
“No, and I’m not your girl,” I snap, digging my fingers into the ground again, trying to find the strength to push myself up. It’s not that I feel weak anymore, but I’m afraid. I’m terrified. I thought I was going to die, and now that I’m not...this is all so fucked up.
“But you are. You’re going to be my perfect performer. Neither of us has a choice. Lawrence said he was bringing you here, and the only way I get out of the fucking herd myself is if I get you in shape for the Fright Fights.” The vampire cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders. “Help me and I’ll help you. Either do that or face whatever twisted shit Lawrence has as a backup plan if you don’t comply.”
