Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(10)
Author: Kresley Cole

He was going to cast out her soul! Ellie recalled how defeated she’d felt when he’d threatened her mother and brother-until she’d realized she still had one play left.

If she could get to a phone, she could make sure her family was hidden. Then there’d be no leverage for the vampire. Ellie could take herself out-and Saroya with her.

This raccoon ain’t treed just yet. . . .

"If you were ready to die over this, then why did you not recede and allow her to rule you?" he asked. "You would have simply slept inside your physical form, with no more pain, no fear. There would have been no need for me to rid it of your soul."

"I was ready to die to take out a murderer who kills good men. Not to give her a free by-your-leave." She added the last absently, feeling as if something wasn’t right about her body.

"Don’t continue to fight me, Elizabeth. Anyone who crosses swords with me loses. It’s merely fact."

"Huh?" Something was definitely amiss downstairs.

With increasing irritation, he said, "Crossing swords. You losing . . ."

"Yeah, well, maybe that’s because you’ve never met anyone like me. I’m more stubborn than anyone you’ve ever encountered."

"A ridiculous statement, from an ignorant girl. I’m thousands of years old. I’ve encountered millions."

"Thousands? That’s ancient!" she cried. "So bloodsuckers are immortal?"

"I’ll give you a moment to wrap your puny mind around that."

"Mighty considerate of you. But no matter. I’m still more mule-headed than anyone. I can out-stubborn a mountain. It’s just my nature." Dang it, why did she feel so weird between her legs?

Lothaire opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "I have to use the restroom."

He exhaled in irritation and pointed toward a hall. "Through there."

Ellie rose from the bed, wincing at her pedicured but sore feet. A pair of stilettos lay at angles on the floor.

Heels, Saroya? That’s just cruel. Growing up, Ellie had gone barefoot

a good seven months out of every year. In prison, they’d given her flip-flops.

Shoes were foreign, heels torturous.

Down a lengthy hallway, she spied the bathroom. The inside was spacious. A marble floor gleamed, counters to match. Plush towels too pretty to use hung from a heated rack.

When she turned to examine herself in the wall-to-wall mirror, she gasped at her reflection.

The black gown she wore was the finest silk, but it dipped down until her navel was visible. Her br**sts were all but spilling out; the thin fabric clearly outlined what little of them was covered.

Being exposed like this might have embarrassed her, but prison-and communal showering-had drilled out any inkling of modesty she’d once possessed.

She had a stylish new haircut and a manicure and pedicure, but layers of makeup covered her face.

Her lips were bright red, her eyes done up with flashy shadow. She looked like a  p**n -star version of herself.

Makeup also concealed the scratch the vampire had given her. She scrutinized her neck and chest for more bites, but found none. So he’d told the truth.

Considering the way he’d licked that stream of blood earlier, she’d thought for sure he’d bite Saroya and finish the job. So why had he refrained?

Had Saroya given Lothaire her virginity instead? For all that Saroya had loved to murder males, she’d never enjoyed one!

Ellie pulled up the gown’s hem, and nearly screamed. Saroya had waxed her-completely.

"What the f**k?" Bald as a cue ball. "Who does this?" Her face heated.

The bareness was so blatantly sexual. Surely Lothaire had deflowered her today.

She sat on the toilet, matter-of-factly feeling herself, gently probing inside. No soreness. Her virginity was intact.

So there’d been no sex and no biting? Did vampires even have sex? She recalled when he’d licked her blood. Her eyes went wide. "Oh!" He’d had an erection, had ground it against her back.

Perhaps psycho Saroya had denied him. If she was indeed a goddess, then maybe she thought sex beneath her.

So why the waxing?

Ellie emptied her bladder, washed her hands, then headed back to the millennia-old immortal waiting for her.

The bedroom was now lit. Recessed fixtures cast a muted glow.

Once her eyes adjusted, his face drew her attention, and she did a stutter step. The first night she’d seen him, she’d been too petrified to register much about his looks, other than: red-eyed demon!

Then earlier today, he’d been covered in blood. Now?

Dear God, he’s . . . fine. All chiseled features and tousled blond hair. Even those creepy eyes couldn’t detract from the rest of his face, just made him look like some kind of fallen angel.

Once she could pry her gaze from him, she noted other details-like the size of the room. "If only it wasn’t so cramped," she mumbled, gawking at the height of the ceiling.

Decorated in shades of cream, the room was so spacious it was divided into study, sitting, and sleeping areas. The furniture was so ritzy, she feared to touch it.

Yet the king-size mattresses lay straight on the floor. "You got something against bed frames?"

"Vampires like to sleep as close to the ground as possible."

"But we’re not on the ground floor."

"Twenty-five stories from it. I also enjoy having the penthouse."

She’d never been above three stories before! She spied an enormous park just beyond the balcony. "That’s . . . Central Park?"

"What of it?"

She ran outside. Look at the pretty lights. Better than on TV-

When she reached the balcony railing, she was shot backward as though she’d run into an invisible wall. Just as she was about to land on her ass, Lothaire gripped her sides, holding her upright.

He drew her to her feet but remained close behind her. At her ear, he said, "Mystically protected, remember." He grasped her wrist, forcing her to touch the invisible border.

Her lips parted when she felt energy pressing back against her hand.

"You can’t leave these premises in any way unless escorted by me." He released her but didn’t move away.

"One jail to another."

"Precisely," he murmured, laying his palms over her hips.

She froze, not knowing what to do. They probably appeared to all the world like lovers taking in the skyline, instead of a vampire and his captive. Her skin prickled with awareness of him.

At length, he turned her to face him.

Would pay to know what he’s thinking. "How do you move so fast?"

"I don’t move fast. You, mortal, move slowly." Had his gaze dipped to the revealing V of her dress?

"And how do you vanish and appear?"

"It’s called tracing-it’s how vampires travel." He frowned at her, dropping his hands. "It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to someone who knows so little about our world. Unbelievably, it’s even less than you know about your own."

He started back to the bedroom, snapping over his shoulder, "Come."

She found her heels digging into the spot. The only thing that held a candle to her stubbornness was her inability to take orders. "You truly think you own me?"

He faced her with a bland look. "Yes."

Hate him! "So earlier, when you were fixin’ to inform me how things were gonna be, you were basically gonna tell me that I’ll be a slave up to the day you end me!"

"In so many words." He began circling her, an eerie prowling that spooked the hell out of her.

So she jutted her chin. "And where exactly will you be sendin’ my soul?"

"Sending it? Hmm. Even I don’t know where souls go after this existence." Circling, circling. "My only concern is that yours is gone from your body."

"If I don’t take myself out before then."

"You won’t. I’ll use your weakness-your love for your family-to keep you from harming yourself."

"Are you really the kind of man who would kill a defenseless woman and a young boy?" she demanded, though everything about this male screamed that he was.

Holding her gaze, he answered, "I’ll do it without hesitation to get what I want. I’ll do it with delight if you continue to defy me."

He’s an animal . . . so best treat him like one, Ellie. Show no fear.

"Beg me for their lives now, Elizabeth. Plead for them."

With more bravado than she’d ever feigned, she said, "You’d hate me worse than you already do. So I’ll do you one better. I’ll bargain with you."

"Bargain?" he repeated, seeming intrigued. Then his expression grew shuttered. "Only those with power can bargain. You have none."

"That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve prevented Saroya from rising a time or two in the past. I’ll steel myself against her even more. I won’t sleep or eat. I will think of nothing but how to bury her so deep inside, she won’t ever see the light of day." Ellie thought he’d be furious at that.

Instead, he again looked interested. "I enjoy a good bargain. Yet I also enjoy making my enemies beg."

"You need me alive, but you need more than that. You’ll be needing my cooperation. So what had you planned for me to do after I got through pleading?"

"I’d planned for you to dine."

She narrowed her eyes up at him. "I sure am hungry, Lothaire. Could eat a horse right now. See how easy we can be together?"

He pinched her chin, hard. "Careful, little pet. If you play with me, you won’t like it when I join the game." He tilted his head at her. "And for this easiness, what do you want in return?"

"Don’t let Saroya kill."

After a considering moment, he said, "Until you’re gone? Agreed. And you’ll obey my commands without question, or your next infraction equals your family’s end. Try to prevent Saroya from rising or harm yourself in any way and you might as well peel their heads from their necks with your own hands. Do you understand me, Elizabeth?"

"I-I understand." Then she added, "I understand that my entire family is safe from you and anyone who works with you, so long as I’m cooperating."

He quirked a brow as if amazed by her temerity. She suspected she was a novelty to him.

So what would happen when the novelty wore off?

"I wondered if you were crazy. Have now decided you must be." He turned and strode toward another room. "Follow me."

Having had a victory of sorts, she trailed after him. At every turn, she was confronted with more examples of his wealth, luxuries like she’d never imagined-art, oriental rugs, newfangled electronics. But not a single phone or computer.

This place was a paradise compared to jail. The air was drier here, not laden with humidity. While her ward had been ripe with the odor of urine and mace, everything here smelled new.

The apartment had two wings with sprawling terraces between them. One terrace even had a pool.

A paradise compared to anywhere. "How many rooms are in this place?"

"More than a dozen throughout the three floors."

"You live alone?"

"As of today, I live with Saroya and one temporary prisoner."

Then a thought struck her. "Are we fixin’ to eat together?"

"Don’t want to see me drink my dinner?"

She’d never been squeamish around blood, had hunted deer with her uncle all her life, eventually guiding her own hunting trips for his business. Then Saroya’s crimes had hardened Ellie further.

Not to mention when the bitch had drunk buckets of blood. . . .

But Ellie hadn’t negotiated that Lothaire couldn’t kill. Nor that he couldn’t drink from her. "The blood in itself isn’t an issue. I’m more concerned with where you get it."

"From a pitcher in the refrigerator usually. For tonight, you’ll eat alone. I’m here only to ensure you put on weight. Fill out your curves more. Saroya finds you lacking."

There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with her curves! "Then maybe you two ought to go kidnap a plumper girl, a ready-made one who already meets your requirements."

He appeared beside her in an instant, his hand closing over one of her elbows. "You are mine. Your body is mine by right. I do own you. The sooner you accept this, the better off you’ll be."

She tried to free herself, but his grip was like a vise. "You’re the one who’s crazy!"

"Shall I return with your mother’s head? Perhaps I’ll place it as the table’s centerpiece."

"I’m still cooperating!" He was the scariest person she’d ever encountered! No one in the backcountry mountains or even on death row could compare.

His smirk deepened. "And who owns you?"

Say the words! Force yourself to say them! "You-do."

He released her. "Good girl."

Chapter 10

"Sit." Lothaire pointed to the dining room. Atop the extended table were silver-covered dishes and two place settings-with enough utensils to confound the girl.

Elizabeth glanced around. "Who cooked this?"

"A chef came earlier," Lothaire said evenly, surprised by his lingering lucidity. Before Elizabeth had woken, he’d watched the even rise and fall of her chest, his lids growing heavy.

"How’d the cook get past the force field?" she asked. "I thought it was impenetrable."