Desecrated Beauty (Twisted Fairy Tales #1) (8 page)

“He didn’t mention anything to us.”

This was the moment she suspected she would have to reveal her cards to the guards. Slowly unwrapping the robe from around her waist she let the silk kimono hang at her sides. Underneath she wore an intricate piece of lingerie: black bands of material wrapping along her chest in a very revealing bra that held her cleavage up on display while the bottom half was manufactured carefully to hide the important bits but be just as enticing as the top half.

She knew it was working by the way the eyes of the guards swept over her body appreciatively, working their way from the curve of her breasts down the hard toning of her stomach from years of rigorous training down to her thick, curved thighs.

“Are you going to make him wait when he comes home and finds you didn’t let me in?” she asked in a curt tone, snapping both guards out of their appreciative gaze.

“No. Just - turn around and let us make sure you have no weapons behind you.” She swept up the bottom of the robe, her motions careful to avoid knocking the concealed stake from its resting spot and she lifted it up high enough as she turned around. She doubted they were looking for weapons as much as admiring the thong shape of this awful outfit she was wearing.

“Alright, go in.” Lefty opened the door for her and she dropped the robe, tugging it tightly around her as she walked past them. They whispered something to each other, but their practiced tones were deaf to a mortal ear like hers.

His bedroom wasn’t exactly what she expected, but then she hadn’t considered what to expect from a vampire’s bedroom. Firstly, there was a real bed and not a coffin. She didn’t know if that was more disturbing than the other might have been. The shades were opened to let the full moon’s light waft into the room like soft waves illuminating the otherwise dark and rich room.

There was a collection of items littered about that spoke of how long he had been alive for. She wanted to ask him about the lives he had lived and about the things he had seen.

She fingered the stake in her pocket as she moved to the window and stared thoughtfully out it. If she ran how far would she get before they caught up to her? Not long, she reasoned, she’d seen how fast he’d moved yesterday to catch the falling vase. There were so many questions she had but every time she was around him her mind became muddled and confused. She forgot so easily what it was she wanted from him. In fact, she forgot herself entirely sometimes. That could be an effect of something he was doing to her with his compulsion.

The door opened behind her and she turned sharply, not having expected him back so soon. The surprise registered on both their faces as they stared down at each other.

“Isabelle,” he said as though he’d anticipated her all along, closing the door behind him and moving into the room, a vague look of interest on his face.

“Nero,” she returned, turning back to the window afraid to make eye contact with him.

“What brings you to my chambers unannounced?”

She took a deep breath, not naive enough to think he hadn’t heard her as she let the robe go a little bit feeling its silkiness slide off her shoulders and dip low on her back.

Nero’s eyes devoured each inch of milky flesh she revealed under the material, but there was something wrong in her submissiveness. This was not how he wanted this moment to go. The fight couldn’t truly be gone already; perhaps she wasn’t the woman he thought she was.

“Are you here for sex then?” He teased her, making her burn hot with embarrassment as if this crass seduction wasn’t embarrassing enough.

“Is that what you want from me?” She glanced over her shoulder at him and there was something predatory in his gaze, it made her shiver but not out of fear.

Nary a breath had passed her lips and he was suddenly behind her. His hands were ice, ghosting along the curve of her exposed spine. She felt her body shudder from the sensation of his fingertips, so gentle and considering. She didn’t even notice she was holding her breath, her complete attention attuned to the closeness of his body and the longing she suddenly felt throb through her.

The danger and threat he presented was intoxicating, but more so than that it was the extreme control he exerted over her. She could tell every little motion and movement he made was carefully calculated and nothing was out of his control. She wanted to be the reason he was out of control. But then she also wished to drive this stake through him.

Shaking herself from her confusion she turned slowly into his arms, looking up at him while his eyes roamed the display below him. The way he watched her was different from the devouring gaze of his guards outside the door. To Nero, she wasn’t a meal to be consumed but she could see in his eyes she was the chef. There was power in that role, her ability to create what he wanted but also the ability to withhold it from him.

It was a power she planned to use.

“To the bed,” she commanded, pressing gently against his chest to make him step away. As she suspected, he submitted not without ensuring she understood he was doing this because she asked and not because she presented a threat. She wondered if he had ever had a woman stand up for herself in a position like this with him. She doubted it by the way he spoke of them.

Nero sat back down on the bed and watched her as she moved toward him, letting the robe fan out behind her like a train before climbing into his lap.

Her heart was pounding like a drum, rhythmic and tantric to his ear. She was nervous, or frightened, and such a thing would’ve never been lost on him. But he didn’t levy it to his advantage as he watched her straddle his hips, professionally keeping her body away from his.

What would she be like if she let go of some of her control? Not all of it, he would never presume that she would ever be able to let herself go completely, but if she were to just release the reins even a bit… She would be mesmerizing.

Quill paused once she settled in his lap, considering for a moment what she was willing to do or not do in a bid to bring his guard down a little bit. She reached out, setting her palm against the curve of his neck and traced the muscles that ran its length and down his chest. Her eyes fluttered upwards to meet his as she pressed her palm flat on the spot where a beating heart should’ve laid and pushed him backwards onto the mattress.

Her hips rose slightly, careful not to collide anywhere as she came down on top of him hovering over his body. His hands twitched in a desire to touch her, anywhere, but he was playing at her pace as he watched her move with the tantalizing speed known only by mortals. There was something to be said in their ability to not rush to completion. Too many of his kind focused on the goal and not the journey getting there. Quill understood the importance of build-up, not foreplay. It wasn’t sexual what she was doing by any means, but it made him ache with desire nonetheless.

Her lips finally made contact and pressed against his jugular. It must’ve been a carefully considered move because it made him jump with excitement. Her enticing body leaning in closer against his and he growled, unable to contain the sound as it rumbled through his chest. Any other woman would be on her back by now, none had ever dared to tease him.

He loved it.

Her teeth brushed along the skin bringing another jolt of pleasure to him before they clipped his earlobe, teasing it into her mouth with her tongue. It was a slow dance, lapping and teasing with brushes of her teeth before she released it and moved to his jaw. Nero couldn’t bear it anymore, bringing his hands to her waist and sliding his hands up along her curves trying to brush the folds of material out of his way.

Quill felt her stomach clench as she realized he was getting closer to the stake. She didn’t know why but a pang of disappointment seized her with the idea of needing to stop. But she had to before he found the stake. As quick as her human reflexes would allow her to move she pulled the stake out of its hiding spot and pressed it hard into his chest.

Nero’s eyes flashed a dangerous dark red colour as he realized what she’d done and he stared up at her. It was all she needed to see to know what he’d be like if he lost control. The way his face contorted with anger, the attraction she felt toward him melted instantly and she found herself looking in the face of the beast she had known him to be.

“What’s this?” His voice quaked, another indication of his loosely grasped control.

“I have a few questions and you’re going to give me a straight answer.” She pressed the tip of the stake harder into his chest, watching the flesh bend around it and start to give. Would a simple prick be enough or would she have to bury it in his chest?

“Alright.” His voice was tense, his muscles coiled so tightly he was ready to spring from beneath her. For a moment, she wondered if it mattered that she held a stake to his chest. He was still stronger and faster, capable of throwing her off him before she did any lasting damage and lose her upper-hand advantage.

“Why am I here?”

“I’ve never met a woman like you before.”

“What do you mean?” Feminism couldn’t possibly be a concept that had been lost on him in the 100 or so years it had been around.

“You’re strong, powerful, you have a heart of gold but beyond all that you exercise the same amount of control in all things you do as I do. I suspect this desperate attempt here is due to your lack of control recently. You have figured out that you are not the highest thing in your so-called food chain and you don’t like being the weaker creature.”

“I’m not a one-off creation. There have and will be other strong women.”

“Yes, I have known others that are physically strong or emotionally strong but never both. Everything about you is so mechanical and precise. Your control is a thing of beauty.”

Quill felt herself flinch, “I’m not a robot.”

“No, not a robot,” he repeated back softly, watching her carefully before seizing his moment. His hand closed around her wrist, twisting it awkwardly to make her release the stake before flipping them over so she was pinned under his body. Keeping his weight flat on top of her he found the stake and snapped it uselessly in half before tossing it away. “I’ll have to speak to my guards about checking more thoroughly… and with force.” His eyes flashed dangerously with the threat as she stared up at him, ever the defiant beauty.

“I wasn’t done questioning you.”

“I will continue to answer your questions, but the stake was unnecessary.”

“Where is my sister?”

“I made sure my guards escorted her further from the area where she will be able to escape the perimeter of the city’s agency and hopefully find a peaceful life outside of here.”

“There’s nothing beyond the perimeter.”

“Are you sure of that?”

Quill wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to admit it. What else was there to know about the takeover that she didn’t? She’d lived with a General, her father was rather high up in the city’s command how could he have possibly hidden this much from her?

“No,” she admonished, staring up at him waiting for him to continue.

“There’s other things out there besides witches and vampires. Considering our recent takeover, the others have started to feel it’s okay for them to come out of hiding as well. Others still prefer the quieter lifestyle. But they’re there and part of our coming out required that the council work with the councils of these other races to ensure that they’re kept happy. You wouldn’t want a race war. If you think the Blood Baths were deadly…”

“But will my sister be safe?” That was the most important thing for her. She needed to be sure that her sister would live. It wouldn’t do to trade her freedom for Rose’s and then for Nero to “set Rose free” as he described only for her to get twelve feet away and killed by a rogue vampire.

“She’s safe to the border, I’ve assured that much.
”

“Okay, what am I supposed to do here?”

“Live, be free, whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, but I can’t leave?”

“I’m afraid that is a difficult condition, but it is necessary.”

“What would happen if I did leave?”

“Well, for one, they would know that you’re still alive and that would put me in a precarious position. But it would also put us in a great deal of danger.”

“I feel like you’re leaving something important out in that “whole truth” story you gave me.”

“I left out the parts that were necessary.”

“When promised the whole truth I expect the whole truth.”

“It’s safer that you don’t know the whole truth, not just for yourself but for me as well. If someone was to find out you were still alive and capture you... If their will was stronger than mine, they might compel you for information and you could give away parts of my operation that could result in catastrophe.”

“Is my life in danger here?”

“Not in this house, but outside of it yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you are mine.”

“You think I am yours.”

“You are Isabelle. You have accepted my patronage, you are here living under my roof and you have accepted my protection. You owe me a debt and that makes you mine. You also smell like me to others.”

“How is that?”

“Every time I get close to you I ensure that more of my scent is transferred to you.”

“I thought you were a vampire and not a werewolf.” Her blood went cold as soon as the nonchalant words left her lips. Werewolves: they had to be one of the races he had been talking about. Of course, they were real.

“Yes, but vampires have an impeccable sense of smell as well as their sense of hearing. It is how we mark our humans.”

“If you were to drink from me?”

“It would make the bond stronger and no other vampire would be able to compel you.”

She stared at him for a moment, mostly out of suspicion. “But you would be able to do it easier?”

“Yes.” At least he hadn’t bothered to try and lie about that much. She didn’t know what was better - letting him drink from her and have that sort of power over her or not let him and be free game to every other vampire out there. Which apparently there were a lot of.

“You know I can’t just live here and do nothing. It’s not in my nature.”

“I suspected as much.”

“So then why expect it of me?”

“I had hoped that maybe you would be happy to have a place where you could relax and let yourself go a little more, that maybe you could take back some of that innocence that was stolen from you.”

“My innocence wasn’t stolen from me.”

“I suspect you had a difficult childhood by the way you live your life.”

“You mean by how I do what I have to to survive in the world where your kind has placed us in a position where we fight each other for our freedom.”

“You wouldn’t have to fight if you succumbed to the system.”

“So either have no freedom or be a fighter, I think the choice is obvious.”

“It’s not a lack of freedom, it’s more freedom than you would have if we were in complete control. Your kind would be enslaved and you would be reduced to slaves who were used for only blood and sex. Is that the kind of lack of freedom you’d choose?”

“Of course not, it’s no choice.”

“But it is now and you refuse to see it as such. The council was kind to you, they didn’t have to give you this sort of freedom. They chose to work with your militia and still allow you to live your lives in the blissful ignorance mortality gives you.”

“So that’s it then. Being here, with you, is a supposed gift?”

“You could enjoy it.” He suggestively lowered his body more on top of her, snapping her focus back on just how closely-pressed their bodies were before she quickly reached out and pushed back against him.