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Tears burn my eyes. I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I just hope that the Bella Crew manages to find me. Maybe I can hold on a little longer. I know how to survive. I just...I don’t want to survive like this. It was one thing being an obedient Gemstone. This is far, far worse. A show called the Fright Fights sounds fucked up. But I must hold on. I need to do it not only for my guys, but I also need to do it for my friends. I need to do it for Mya.
“This is so messed up. I don’t even know what you’re talking about or what’s really going on. I don’t belong to Lawrence. He kidnapped me. I know my master will come. A whole lot of vampires paid for a part of a contract for me. Lawrence isn’t going to get away with this.” I don’t know why I say any of this, but it feels as if saying it out loud helps me get my shit together. I thought Alexander was bad. But this situation? It’s fucking worse.
The vampire raises an eyebrow. “If you’re here, that means he has gotten away with it, my showgirl. Stop dwelling on what you have been through and focus on what is happening now. I’m sure you’re starving. Like I said, if you come here, I’ll give you some more blood. Wouldn’t you like that?”
My stomach growls, proving that despite my mind shouting fuck no, my body craves to experience his blood again. It’s the strangest thing to feel as if his blood will satiate me in a way it never has before. This is more than healing me.
“I just need food. I don’t want your blood.” I rub the back of my hand across my mouth.
“The hell you don’t. You’re a dhampir. You survive on vampire blood.” Biting his arm again, the vampire extends his wrist to me, slowly stepping forward.
Oh, no. I can smell it.
Impossible.
He’s wrong. He must be wrong. I can’t believe what Lawrence told me and what this guy is telling me now. There’s no way Alexander bit my mother while she was pregnant with me, turning me into a half-vampire and half-human. I would’ve known. Right?
As I think about the words, I think about my life growing up at the Aris Hotel. I try to think of all the times that I’ve been given blood. And it has always been to help me heal or to make me feel better when I was sick. As a child, I used to get sick often. I never really thought about it because as I hit maturity and as an adult, the stomach pains went away. I always thought it was normal hunger because I went without.
Fuck. It makes sense. I was also getting more blood from Opal and Alexander. Almost every night because of Vampire Nights.
“Come on. Have another taste if you want. Maybe you’ll think more clearly and behave for me.” He tilts his arm, getting the blood to stream toward his elbow.
It steals my attention away from my thoughts, and I fly forward as if I’m catapulting from the ground during a floor routine. I jump at him with a scream. He spins out of my way, and I nearly eat shit on the ground. My feet slide across the slippery dirt. Locking his hand to the back of my shirt, the vampire hoists me to him and envelops me in his arms.
I scream and buck my body, jerking my head back and smashing it into his face. Pain explodes in the back of my skull, and stars pepper my vision. The force of my move is enough to get him to release me. I don’t know how I do it, but I manage to spin on my feet and launch at him. This time, he doesn’t have a chance to move. We collide together, and he takes the brunt of our fall, catching me as I land on top of him.
I freeze at our closeness, our faces only inches apart. His startling green eyes flash silver, and his sharp fangs peek out from beneath his plump top lip. The longer I look at him, the more handsome I realize he is. He might be dirty, but he is probably the type to clean up well.
“My showgirl, take what you want. You’ve earned it.” The vampire’s voice deepens with his words, and he tilts his head sideways, showing off his throat as if our roles are reversed, and he’s the donor while I’m the vampire.
It’s enough to knock some sense into me.
Swinging my hand, I slap him across the face and hop to my feet. I rush across the muddy, bloody room and toward the door. I need to get out of here. I need to escape. If I stay in this room, I don’t know what will happen. This guy already told me he has a deal with Lawrence. He claims he wants to help me, but I highly doubt that’s the case. He’s just here for himself.
“Not so fast.” Strong hands lock onto my shoulders, and the vampire jerks me away from the door and spins me around.
I don’t even have a chance to react as he yanks my hair and bends my head to the side. I gasp as he sinks his fangs into my throat again, sending shooting pain through my body. His bite is far deeper than necessary to draw blood. He is doing it on purpose. He wants to hurt me.
I shriek and step on his bare feet with my shoes, trying everything I can to break away from him. He grunts but doesn’t let me go. Thrashing my body, I wiggle so much that he can’t lock his lips to his puncture wounds for long. I elbow him in the gut, my sudden movement enough to wind him. I twist around and shove my hands to his chest, knocking him back.
And holy shit.
My push sends him flying off his feet and into the wall, my strength unlike anything I’ve experienced before. He hits the metal with a clank and drops to the ground. How in the hell did I do that? There’s no way.
Shaking his head, the vampire chuckles. “That’s what I’m talking about. I knew you had it in you, my showgirl.”
Anger rushes through me, the adrenaline helping to ease the pain in my neck and shoulder. “Stop calling me that. My name is Hayley. I’m not your fucking showgirl.”
“Hayley is a beautiful name. I like it. Lawrence only ever called you his heir.” His comment surprises me, and I’m stunned silent, watching him get to his feet. He rubs his filthy hands on his pants and flashes me a smile.
I’m like a donor on the Strip. I can’t get myself to move as he closes the space at vampire speed. Reaching up his hand, he combs my short hair from my face and behind my ear. It feels as if he’s going to lock me in his stare and manipulate my mind.
He doesn’t. I don’t think he can because I consumed his blood.
“But you’re going to need something tougher for the stage. I go by Savage Saint instead of Cooper.” He inspects every inch of my face, from my eyes to my nose, and then he studies my lips for an extra-long time. I should step back. I should put a dozen feet of space between us for what he’s done to me, but my feet refuse to move. My mind and body shut down on me. I can’t help it. It’s how I’ve always survived before. With Alexander, I could never fight. It would end far worse than if I just gave in.
“Savage Saint? You’re a performer?” I wish my curiosity would chill out. I shouldn’t keep this conversation going.
