Jess Haines: Enslaved By the Others

“As I said,” Max addressed Kyle, though he kept his gaze locked on mine, “she is newly arrived. She may not be a pretty showpiece, but her looks are not what makes her desirable.”

Despite myself, a hot flush of embarrassment warmed my skin, no doubt reddening my cheeks. He might as well have called me an ugly cow—and no woman, no matter who says it or how true a statement it might be, likes to hear that she’s unattractive.

“This is Rhathos’s little pet hunter.”

The vampires gave a collective intake of hissing breaths. Max’s satisfaction with the statement was undeniable, as was the sudden, intense flare of interest from the rest of his guests.

“Better yet,” he added, “she has not been permanently bound.”

The man in the burgundy suit came close enough to press a calloused fingertip under my chin, tilting my head up so he could peer into my eyes. His own flashed a dull red that matched his suit, burning deep down in those sloe eyes, but they held no draw for me. I would’ve pulled away if I could have, but I was still locked in paralysis from Max’s command.

“Fascinating,” he said, brows lowering as he regarded me with a curious, puzzled expression. “I do wonder how you managed to get your hands on such a prize piece. Better, how you intend to capitalize upon such a windfall.”

“Name a price,” said Kyle, withdrawing a cell phone that looked like it might double as a tiny laptop. It didn’t take me long to figure out he was using it to pull up a banking program to transfer funds. Great.

Max shook his head, holding his hand out to me. I couldn’t help stiffly edging over to his side, taking his hand, and letting him pull me into his lap. Not content to have me on the edge of his knee, he snaked his arm around my waist and tugged until my back was pressed against his chest, his other hand lightly twined with mine. A clear message for the others: I was his possession for the time being. I would’ve gladly disproven any assumptions that I was anybody’s property, but my body wasn’t in a cooperative mood.

“No sale. I’m not prepared to release her to another yet.”

Oh, wasn’t that just darling. I wondered when he would be “prepared” and just what made me so valuable in the eyes of these vampires. Worse, what Max thought he could wring out of me before he turned me over to someone else.

“Pity, Euphron,” said the one who had earlier been busy toying with his wineglass. “I wouldn’t mind getting a taste of that one. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to part with her for a night?”

My stomach plummeted. Max waited so long to answer I nearly passed out from holding my breath.

“I’ll consider it,” was the dismissive reply.

Talk turned to how he had gotten his hands on me, and his estimate as to how long it would take to make me tractable. It wasn’t a question of if, or how, but when .

Something about his hold had left me unable to speak. It didn’t stop the helpless tears or the sick feeling twisting my stomach in knots as they calmly discussed my fate. Max assured the others that he would “personally” see to my “education,” whatever the hell that meant, and that he had no intention of wasting this opportunity.

If I had to go down I’d do my best to take him with me. That was the only consolation I had to keep from going utterly mad in his arms while they talked about destroying everything that made me ... me.

After awhile, the talk turned back to the people chained between the statues. My fear and impotent fury grew when I realized they were here to be auctioned off to the highest bidder and that Max was selling them for hundreds of thousands of dollars apiece—and the ones with Other blood for even more. Some of the “assets” that prompted the vampires to drop more money included quirks of lineage, artistic skill, and, in one case, a gift with languages. All of my fellow humans, I was irritated to note, were smarter, more talented, and better-looking than me. Though I wasn’t sure I should be so thrilled about that, considering Max had alluded to putting me up on the auction block at some point.

It felt like a long time before the vampires were done. Max’s fingers occasionally shifted, making my muscles seize up in renewed terror, though I couldn’t withdraw from his touch. He never strayed toward inappropriate territory, but the constant reminders that I was trapped and helpless was doing plenty to fray my nerves to the breaking point. I figured out before long that he was doing it on purpose to rattle me. A silent reprimand that no doubt would be followed by something worse once he was done dealing with his guests.

Their chatter shifted to talk of politics and investments. I made mental notes of incriminating mentions of their names and businesses on the off-chance I might get out of there someday. Never mind the lack of a retainer fee. Hunting down each and every one of these sick fucks pro bono, as a favor to the rest of humanity, would be my pleasure. Focusing on a future that might never come was better than pondering what Max might be planning to do to me as soon as this meeting was over.

While they discussed their business, one by one, the people were freed from their chains. Half a dozen men entered to usher them back to the rooms in the hall. The newcomers were all dressed in suits much like the ones Max’s men wore the day I was kidnapped off the street, back when I had met him the first time. The rapid, efficient way his people moved gave me the sneaking suspicion that this human trafficking business was something they did often.

Worse, none of the captives spoke a word or did a thing to struggle for their freedom. They moved where they were bid, but slowly, further cementing my suspicions that they were drugged. Please, God, don’t let them be so broken that they couldn’t fight for their freedom anymore.

Don’t let that be me someday.

Some time later, Max pushed me off his lap so he could stand to see the other vampires out. Once they were gone, escorted by the security guards to their rooms or to pick up their “purchases,” he turned to me. I still couldn’t move. Though I strained every muscle to back away, I couldn’t retreat or even cry out as he closed the distance between us. Instead of touching, he circled me, shark-like, considering before speaking. All I could do was stand there and tremble, following him with my eyes.

“How did you get out?”

The words spilled out before I could stop myself. “Picked the lock.”

A casual, backhanded slap sent me tumbling to my hands and knees on the floor, blood dribbling between my lips. Max absently licked his knuckles, tasting my blood. He paused, glancing at the smear on his hand with a frown before narrowed eyes refocused on me.

“You disobeyed me, pet. I told you to calm yourself and consider your options. Are you so eager to be given to another?”

Something inside my head loosened; I recognized that feeling. It was him retracting his mental claws long enough to allow me to answer him without forced compulsion.

“Fuck you.” I spat, getting blood on his gold-tasseled loafers. He tsked.

“I suppose I should be glad of your interruption. I do believe Kyle has taken a new interest in my stock. Thank whatever gods you pray to, girl. Your punishment will be easier for it.”

I closed my eyes and rested my brow on the floor, unable to reply. His fingers knotted in my hair, dragging me up to my feet. At the last possible moment, I straightened my legs and threw everything I had into punching him in the jaw.

It was like striking iron. My knuckles and wrist ached from the impact. For his part, Max flinched—which was satisfying—but that was all.