Jess Haines: Enslaved By the Others

As always, I must thank my beta readers for their tireless efforts to set me straight.

Kristin, thank you for helping me finish this puppy on time and with minimal psychological damage. You are my favorite architect.

Tori B., you make me laugh and gave me encouragement I didn’t know I needed.

Tori N., you’re bloody brilliant. Thank you for helping make this a better book in ways you may never know.

J.C., you are the best cheerleader, and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

Brooklyn Ann, you helped me figure out how to fit in a touch of romance in the darkest of moments. How the hell did you manage that?

Kate, I’m sorry that I’m not sorry, but the socks had to stay.

To those who had a hand in the research that went into this book, whether they knew it or not, thank you. A special word of thanks to Captain Awkward and the rest of the Awkward Army for introducing this lurker to terms like “pantsfeelings” and concepts that gave more depth to parts of this story than I thought I was capable of capturing in words. To the people of YouTube, Twitter, and the blog-o-sphere I follow, there are too many of you to list, but I love you fiercely for the education and entertainment you provide. A huge thank you to MacAllister Stone and the gang at the Absolute Write Water Cooler for providing invaluable resources and the kind of camaraderie one could only expect from other writers who have been there and done that.

I want to acknowledge the Polaris Project (www.polarisproject.org) for the education they provided on the current state of human trafficking in the United States and abroad. Their website was an invaluable resource for me when doing research for this book. I hope you’ll consider showing your support of the Polaris Project, and other organizations like it, to help put an end to human trafficking.

Thank you to my agent, Ellen Pepus, and to the team at Kensington who have worked so hard to make these stories shine and get them into the hands of readers. John, Peter, Vida, Ross, Alex, Justine, and everyone else who had a hand in getting the H&W Investigations off the ground, you guys are the best.

Last but certainly not least, thank you to all you fans out there.

You all rock my socks. Thank you for all you do.

My mind was a fragmented haze, but I found the glue necessary to pull it back together as soon as a voice I hadn’t heard in years—except in my nightmares—rang out.

“I know you’re awake. Open your eyes.”

Panic drove me to move before I was fully conscious of the decision to do so. Hurling myself off the floor and in the opposite direction of his voice, I hadn’t made it two steps before cold, strong fingers wrapped around my wrist, jerking me back and into his arms. Cloth brushed against skin that hadn’t been bare before I lost consciousness, heightening my terror. I quickly closed my eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze. Despite knowing it was useless to fight, I squirmed as much as I could against that iron grip.

“Calm yourself,” he said, not unkindly. I made a small, helpless sound, squeezed out of me when his hold tightened. “I only wish to speak with you. I don’t mean you harm.”

“Liar,” I wheezed, redoubling my efforts to escape. “Let go! Murderer!”

“It’s cute when you say it.”

I made a sound, half laugh, half sob. Oh, yeah, that was funny all right. Memories of a room full of dead kids on a dance floor, of slick gore gleaming under a strobe, of dead eyes and a woman in a blue shirt being drained of every drop of blood, assaulted me.

Hilarious.

His grip tightened, choking off my panicked, nonsense noises. Once I quieted down, the vampire held me to him with one arm. His free hand grasped my chin and forced my head up and to one side, then the other. Inspecting. No doubt spotting the telling scars on my neck, tiny and faded as they were.

“Your fear of me is understandable but unnecessary. I need answers, Shiarra. That’s all.”

I didn’t open my eyes, but I stopped struggling. My heart was still racing, and panic was still urging me to fight like a wildcat. It was the wash of helplessness that led me to weaken, stilling in hopes of finding some later opportunity to escape.

Captive. Kidnapped by a murderous monster who had every reason to want me dead. Oh, God. If I didn’t figure out a way to get out of here, now, I was going to die. There was no maybe about it—this time there was no one around to stop him, and even with the Other-taint in my blood, I had no hope of overpowering or outrunning him. He had proximity. Eye contact might strengthen his hold on me, but when we were this close to each other he could exert some control over my will and body and there would be nothing I could do to stop it.

“You know very well what I can do to you. I’m too pressed for time to wring answers out of you right now. If I release you, will you sit and speak reasonably with me?”

When he put it that way, it was hard to think of him as a bad guy. He sounded accommodating, almost sensible.

Except he was the furthest thing from rational. Max Carlyle was crazy; a mass-murdering sociopath. Not only had he abducted me—was this the third time, now?—but this time he’d learned from his prior mistakes and taken away everything familiar, right down to my clothes. I had no idea if Sara or Devon were dead or alive. No clue if Royce knew what had happened to us or if any of my friends knew where to find me. Dragging things out might be the only way to get through this intact. If I gave Max what he needed, he might kill me. If I didn’t, he might bind me to him by blood again and then kill me. At least cooperating—to some extent—meant keeping my sanity.

My voice came out in a dry croak. “After—will ... are you going to let me go after I answer you?”

He laughed, the sound a soft rumble in his chest that vibrated through my bones. “You should know better by now. I will go easier on you than originally intended. Fair enough?”

I couldn’t answer—I was too busy shaking from the icy chill in the air and terror at the images those words conjured.

He loosened his grip on me, but only to slide his arm around my waist as he urged me to walk. Though I hadn’t the faintest clue where he was taking me, I still didn’t dare open my eyes in case I might inadvertently look into his own and be spelled into a mind-warping black enchant. Redundant, perhaps, since I’d forever be obligated to answer his call when in close proximity—like now—but I couldn’t stand the idea of losing what scraps of free will I had left.

We stopped, his hands shifting, guiding my shaking frame like one might a broken marionette. He helped me into the seat, and I sensed him crouch down before me. A cold void where something warm and living should have been. I gripped the chair arms, my nails cutting into the fabric and a faint cry escaping me at the chill of his hand placed so familiarly upon my bare knee.

“Now, then. Do tell me how you came to be among Clyde Seabreeze’s retinue. I was under the impression that you sought sanctuary with Alec.”

My voice shook, teeth chattering as I forced out a few words. “Vacation,” I lied. With Max it was a reflex to keep anyone connected to me safe from his wrath. “Just a vacation. He heard I was coming.”

“A vacation.” His tone was incredulous. “Alec allowed this?”