Forever Black (Nightwalkers 2) (9 page)

Chapter Five

The Count's voice was soft, "Feeling better?"

She struggled to open her eyes as his fingers stroked the
skin of her face. Her whole body was trembling, a great hunger filling her
chest.

His words were like butter, sweetness in them that was all a
mirage. "Apologize to me, and I shall forgive you."

Her mind was so muddled, she couldn't concentrate. "For
what?"

"Soon, it will be like it was." His fingers moved
in slow circles down her cheek and neck. "You will love me again. God
cannot hide you from me. No one can. We are together again, and our blood will
be thick and joined."

Her eyes fluttered open then gradually closed. She recited a
line from
Nightwalkers,
as if she
were speaking to Nicolas and not the Count. "’In dreams, your emerald eyes
haunt me. Like a plague that fills my heart with the false joy of sin and never
allows me to forget…’"

She released a slow exhale, her body feeling numb and
tingly. The world swayed around her like the slow, steady tides of the ocean.
"’The sharp bloody kiss of the devil. A kiss masked by the sweetest of
magic—one that surpasses all others and cuts deeper than the mere sin of
wrongful brushing of lips.’"

"You invent these…these…
disgusting
characters in your books," he hissed. She felt his
hand leave her skin. The bed moved slightly. "Mocking me and turning your
love into a monster. How could you do such a thing? Why did you feel the need
to invent some fictional prince to save you from me?"

His voice rose. "
Disgust
does not
begin
to describe how
hurtful your words have been.
The devil
…"
The next words dripped off his lips like thick drops of blood, a snarl to his
voice that was mimicked by his curled lip, "The man who has held vigil for
you for hundreds of years…waiting an eternity for you to be reborn."

An angry huff of air escaped his nostrils. "So that I
can look into your eyes instead of your sleeping form in my catacombs. I have
done terrible things, and I am not a good man, but I have never hurt you. None
of the things you have written about me are true. You loved me. How can you
betray me? Sleeping with that boy and calling him your prince?"

She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't budge. Her
words came out breathless, "I don't remember you. I'm…sorry."

"Then, let me show you." He laid his hands over
her eyelids.

When she opened them, she was trapped in a vision that the
Count's magic had created. Standing at the foot of the stairs, she peered down
at a party below. It was cold where she stood, far from the warm reaches of the
fire. But she didn't want to move. Her long, black hair fell down one of her
shoulders in a thick curl, a giant silver comb in the back of her ponytail that
fanned out like a halo.

"
’Tis
cold in the
shadows." The Count appeared behind her, and his hand slipped around her
waist.

She turned to him slowly. A loving smile filled out her lips
as she gazed into his handsome face. His eyes sparkled with a yellowish light,
his suit black with a tuff of red popping out the collar.

"No." Her words were low and sweet. "
’Tis
cold outside your arms. When I know what lies in the
shadows, I shall never fear the dark."

"You are the beacon that lights the darkness that
envelopes me." He chuckled as his wolf-like eyes captured hers. His
whitish blond hair was slicked back into a long ponytail. "Even as a dark
queen, you still possess the softness of an angel's wings. I could never fully
taint you, yet you choose to wallow in the thick sins of the devil. Such a man
as I am undeserving of such a coveted lady."

"Drake…" Her hand reached up to his face. Her soft
fingers barely kissed the surface of his skin. "Do not try and sway me
with your loving words." A small laugh escaped her lips. "Where have
you been? I have waited centuries for you to find me."

"This shall make you grateful for the gift of endless
time I have blessed you with." He leaned his head closer to her neck and
planted a few kisses behind her ear. They were tense, as if he was holding back
the need to devour her.

Her words were a soft whisper, "Forever would be
torture, if it meant missing a single day spent in your arms." Though they
were speaking in a foreign tongue, Ashleigh could understand their every word.
"And your kiss…the amazing kiss that only my love can produce. Taste
me." Her head was thrown back as she took in the pleasure of his lips.

Closing her eyes, her words were breathless, "I want
nothing more than to be captured on your tongue, my blood becoming part of
you." Her hands moved leisurely up and down his back, her light touch
barely kissing the surface of his coat. "You tease, my love."

"Do you not wish to feed first?" He pointed to the
crowd below. "Choose your fountain, and I shall tap it."

"I love you, Drake." Her hand took his. Her
movements were so light and airy, it was as if she floated on air.

Ashleigh focused on the Count's face as his loving
expression disappeared and was replaced by a mere cloud of white. Her world was
coming back again, as was that deep, panging hunger in her chest. She let out a
pained groan. Closing her eyes tightly, she grabbed the first thing near her,
the Count's hand.

"I'm so afraid." Tears escaped the dam of her
tightly closed lids. A severe dizziness occupied her head, a thick blackness
creeping ever closer. The feeling of losing consciousness terrified her.
"Are you…going to let me…die?"

His voice was firm, hurt underlying his deep tone,
"Apologize."

"I can't." She squeezed his hand, but her grip was
light. Swallowing hard, she tried to moisten her dry throat. "I—"

"Do it or I'll kill you."

"I need to eat." With a burst of strength, she
tried to sit up. Her body was now running on pure adrenaline, and her need to
feed taking over.

His strong hand pushed on her chest and forced her head to
the pillow. He watched her move from side to side frantically. Her mind had
left her, and she was nearing the end. He could feel her heart's intense beat,
it's frantic pace showing the desperate state of her body.

Her body was shaking, and she was on the verge of a great
convulsion. He bit his wrist and held the steady stream of blood to her lips.
She immediately latched on, his blood tasting better than any she had ever
consumed. But this man wasn't like other vampires. He was immortal, and as the
first, he was extremely dangerous.

As her world came back, she tried not to focus on those
thoughts. Her eyes shut tighter as she wished with all her might that this was
all a dream. She wanted to open her eyes and see Caleb. She needed to.

Even though her hunger was satisfied, she let her lips
tremble over his skin and didn't open her eyes. She could smell him, the dark
scent of his cologne. This wasn't Caleb.

The Count didn't move his arm, waiting for her to move. He
watched her slow tears. His next command was soft, yet firm, "Open your
eyes."

She obeyed him. Her eyes quickly opened and locked onto his.
He didn't pull his hand from her lips, but instead studied her curiously.

"I'm tired." She turned on her side and put her
back toward him.

"You are not." Grabbing hold of her shoulder, he
spun her around.

His action surprised her, Ashleigh's eyes widening.
"What do you want from me?" She quickly sat up. The high of feeding
made her unable to control her emotions well.

"I want you to clean up." He yanked her to her
feet. "You smell of that man. You will soak in the tub until you wash the
scent of him off your body." He observed her attire, everything she wore
was Caleb's, except for her bra and panties.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Putting a hand to
her chest, Ashleigh began to cry. "I love Caleb, he's—"

Baring his fangs, he got in her face. She cringed backward.
"Never say that!" When he saw the terror in her eyes, he backed off.
His chest rose and fell quickly as he forced himself to look away from her. His
voice softened a little, "Come." He led her to the bathroom.

"Where are we?" She studied the room. It didn't
look like a hotel. It was furnished handsomely, with giant gothic-style windows
and beautiful, carved wood lining the walls.

"Home."

Then, he pointed to the large bath that had been filled.
Smoke rose from the water, which was being churned by the powerful jets. It was
a modern bathroom, no expense spared on the decoration or the fixtures. The
bathtub was raised a step from the floor, heavy black curtains surrounding it.

The lighting was intimate—a few candles near the doorway lit
his face. This was the first time she had observed him so closely. His skin was
pale, but not freckled, and there were no visible imperfections. This lighting
seemed fitting for such a dark prince, and the atmosphere felt outdated, like
his memories of her.

She had to admit, she did find him very handsome. But this
wasn't surprising, because as a Master Vampire, one would expect him to be
perfect. She wasn't swayed by it, though. Not his amazing green eyes, his
perfectly chiseled cheekbones and square chin…not an inch.

She turned around quickly. There was fear in her eyes, but
anger in her steady voice. "I want to go home." Her fists were balled
at her sides, and she sent him a glare as strong as the one he was throwing at
her. "You can't keep me a prisoner here."

"Can't I?" He laughed as he crossed his arms over
his chest. There was a challenging look in his eyes. He liked seeing that spark
he remembered fully alive within her.

"No."

"Undress." His stare was glued to her body as he
motioned for her to obey his order.

"No." She crossed her arms over her chest
defiantly. Her eyes were surrounded by smeared mascara that bled around the
edges.

A deep, commanding tone lined his strong voice as his brow
kissed his shining eyes, "Undress." He narrowed his gaze.

"I won't—"

"Do as I say!" He bared his fangs. The sight of
his murderous rage made her jump back a step, but it didn't make her back down.

"No." She took another step back. Her voice
quivered, "Get away…" Closing her eyes, she balled her fists at her
sides and screamed her next words as loud as she could, "From me!"

Then, it happened. She lost control. She couldn't move an
inch of her body, and her eyes stared straight ahead. Inside, she was screaming
for him to release her, but none of her emotions showed on her face.

His voice was shaky, as if he was trying very hard not to
strangle her, "Listen to me." Reaching up to her shoulders, he pulled
off her jacket and let it fall behind her. "You smell like a piece of
trash. That rat's stench hanging over you like a cloud." His fingers took
a firm hold of the baggy T-shirt she wore then quickly pulled it over her head.
"And you act like an insolent child, so spoiled and rotten it makes the taste
of your blood repulsive."

As he undressed her, he didn't check out her amazing breasts
or admire her body. Nothing. All he did was strip her down to an embarrassed,
naked state. Then, he released her from his spell. He turned his head as he
pointed to the tub. "Stay in this bath until the servants come for you. I
do not wish to be near you any longer."

"Then send me home." She quickly retreated into
the bath, the hot water feeling wonderful on her skin. Her words were angry,
but there was a wetness to her tone that showed she was holding back tears.
"I'm not who you think I am. I don't remember you, and I'll never be her,
no matter—"

"I said silence your tongue." He held up a single
finger, his nose wrinkling as his lip curled. His breath was rapid as he tried
to keep his calm. "I do not want you to speak until I allow—"

Her brow wrinkled as she screamed, "You stupid—"
Suddenly, she couldn't say another word. Her hand went to her throat as she
opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out.

"Silence. Finally." He let out a deep exhale as he
turned. His body disappeared into the air.

She waited a few minutes to make sure he was gone then made
her escape. After putting on a robe, she glanced around the next room for her
purse and clothes but couldn't find them. He had taken her shoes and socks as
well. This would make fleeing hard, but that didn't stop her from trying.

She first tried the bedroom door, and it was locked. Letting
out an annoyed groan, she shook the handle several times, but it didn't open.
She planted a few swift kicks against the wood before trying something else.
She went to the doors of the balcony, which were locked as well.

Her eyes scanned the room then settled on a chair next to
the door. She thought she could use it to break the glass, so she quickly
picked it up and started slamming it against the doors. Each time, it bounced
off.

After a few minutes of failed attempts, she tried to think
of something else. Closing her eyes, she sat on the bed and took a few deep
breaths. There was a dress laid out on the comforter for her. Ashleigh was a
jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. She was
not
putting that on.