Guilty Pleasures

There was even a haunted house; it was almost fu

Winter had paused before the little door leading into the back areas. He was frowning at me, massive arms almost crossed over equally massive chest. The arms didn’t quite fold right, too much muscle for that, but he was trying.

He opened the door. I went inside. The tall, bald man who had been with Nikolaos that first time was standing against the wall, at attention. His handsome, narrow face, the eyes very prominent because there was no hair, nothing much else to stare at, looked at me the way elementary school teachers look at troublemaking children. You must be punished, young lady. But what had I done wrong?

The man’s voice was deep, faintly British, cultured, but human. “Search her for weapons before we go down.”

Winter nodded. Why talk when gestures will do? His big hands lifted my jacket and took the gun. He shoved one shoulder so that I spun around. He found the second gun, too. Had I really thought they’d let me keep the weapons? Yes, I guess I had. Stupid me.

“Check her arms for knives.”

Damn.

Winter gripped my jacket sleeves like he meant to tear them. “Wait, please. I’ll just take the jacket off. You can search it, too, if you like.”

Winter took the knives on my arms. The bald-headed man searched the yellow windbreaker for concealed weapons. He didn’t find any. Winter patted my legs down, but not well. He missed the knife at my ankle. I had one weapon, and they didn’t know it. Bully for me.

Down the long stairs and into the empty throne room. Maybe it showed on my face because the man said, “The master waits for us, with your friend.”

The man led the way as he had down the stairs. Winter brought up the rear. Perhaps they thought I would make a break for it. Right. Where would I go?

They stopped at the dungeon. How had I known they would? The bald-headed man knocked on the door twice, not too hard, not too soft.

There was silence; then bright, high laughter drifted from inside. My skin crawled with the sound. I did not want to see Nikolaos again. I did not want to be in a cell again. I wanted to go home.

The door opened. Valentine made a hand-sweeping motion. “Come in, come in.” He was wearing a silver mask this time. A strand of his auburn hair was stuck to the forehead of the mask, sticky with blood.

My heart thudded into my throat. Phillip, are you alive? It was all I could do not to yell out.

Valentine stepped against the door as if waiting for me to pass. I glanced at the nameless bald man. His face was unreadable. He motioned me ahead of him. What could I do? I went.

What I saw stopped me at the top of the steps. I couldn’t go farther. I couldn’t. Aubrey stood against the far wall, gri

Her grey-blue eyes stared up at me. She laughed again, rich and pure and wicked. I had no other word for it. Wicked. She caressed a white, blood-spattered hand against Phillip’s bare chest. She rolled her fingertip over his nipple, and laughed.

He was chained to the wall at wrist and ankle. His long, brown hair had fallen forward, hiding one eye. His muscular body was covered in bites. Blood rained down his tan skin in thin crimson lines. He stared up at me from that one brown eye, the other hidden in his hair. Despair. He knew he had been brought here to die, like this, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. But there was something I could do. There had to be. God, please let there be!

The man touched my shoulder, and I jumped. The vampires laughed. The man did not. I walked down the steps to stand a few feet in front of Phillip. He wouldn’t look at me.

Nikolaos touched his naked thigh and ran her fingers up it. His body tightened, hands clenching into fists.

“Oh, we have been having a fine time with your lover here,” Nikolaos said. Her voice was sweet as ever. The child bride incarnate. Bitch.

“He isn’t my lover.”

She pouted out her lower lip. “Now, Anita, no lying. That’s no fun.” She stalked towards me, slender hips swaying to some i

I don’t think she wanted me to argue, so I didn’t.

She reached for me again, with one bloody, dainty hand. “Winter can hold you, if you like.”

Stay still, or we hold you down. Great choices. I stayed still. I watched those pale fingers glide towards my face. I ground my fingernails into the palms of my hands. I would not move away from her. I would not move. Her fingers touched my forehead, and I felt the cool wetness of blood. She brushed it down my temple to my cheek and traced her fingers over my lower lip. I think I stopped breathing.

“Lick your lips,” she said.

“No,” I said.

“Oh, you are a stubborn one. Has Jean-Claude given you this courage?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Her eyes darkened, face clouding over. “Don’t be coy, Anita. It does not become you.” Her voice was suddenly adult, hot enough to scald. “I know your little secret.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said, and I meant it. I didn’t understand the anger.

“If you like, we can play games for a little while longer.” She was suddenly standing beside Phillip, and I hadn’t seen her move. “Did that surprise you, Anita? I am still master of this city. I have powers that you and your master have never even dreamed of.”

My master? What the hell was she talking about? I didn’t have a master.

She rubbed her hands along the side of his chest, over his rib cage. Her hand wiped away the blood to show the skin smooth and untouched. She stood in front of him and didn’t come to his collarbone. Phillip had closed his eyes. Her head arched backwards, a glimpse of fangs, lips drawn back in a snarl.

“No.” I stepped towards them. Winter’s hands descended on my shoulders. He shook his head, slow and careful. I was not to interfere.

She drove her fangs into his side. His whole body stiffened, neck arching, arms jerking at the chains.

“Leave him alone!” I drove an elbow into Winter’s stomach. He grunted, and his fingers dug into my shoulders until I wanted to scream. His arms enveloped me, tight to his chest, no movement allowed.

She raised her face from Phillip’s skin. Blood trickled down her chin. She licked her lips with a tiny pink tongue. “Ironic,” she said in a voice years older than the body would ever be. “I sent Phillip to seduce you. Instead, you seduced him.”

“We are not lovers.” I felt ridiculous with Winter’s arms crushing me to his chest.

“Denial will not help either of you,” she said.

“What will help us?” I asked.

She motioned, and Winter released me. I stepped away from him, out of reach. It put me closer to Nikolaos, perhaps not an improvement.

“Let us discuss your future, Anita.” She began to walk up the steps. “And your lover’s future.”

I assumed she meant Phillip, and I didn’t correct her. The nameless man motioned for me to follow her up the stairs. Aubrey was moving closer to Phillip. They would be alone together. Unacceptable.

“Nikolaos, please.”

Maybe it was the “please.” She turned. “Yes,” she said.

“May I ask two things?”

She was smiling at me, amused with me. An adult’s amusement with a child who had used a new word. I didn’t care what she thought of me as long as she did what I wanted. “You may ask,” she said.

“That when we go, all the vampires leave this room.” She was still staring at me, smiling, so far so good. “And that I be allowed to speak with Phillip privately.”