Jess Haines - Stalking the Others

“Then let me go,” I screeched, squirming to escape him. “Let me go, Royce! Don’t do this to me!”

He held me fast, his hands suddenly holding my cheeks, though I hadn’t seen him move. Trapped, I stared helplessly up at him, rage and fear warring for dominance as he arched above me and stared down.

“Is that why you fight me now? You think I intend to rape you, feed from you, make you my slave ... ? Gods, but you are a foolish, irritating girl!”

“What did you do with Sara, you son of a bitch?” I hated that the question sounded so weak, that I couldn’t push him away.

He glared down at me, expression hardening for the first time. “You think I harmed her, do you? Did it ever occur to you that the police might come to me in search of you?”

I glared back, saying nothing.

“She is safe, as she always was while in my care. Dawn agreed to let Sara stay at her home until I could make other arrangements.” He pressed closer to me, those dark eyes sucking me in like quicksand, giving me no way to escape the weight of his presence or look away. “As for you—what have I ever done to make you think so ill of me, Shiarra? I’m tired of being seen as no more than a monster. This misguided attempt at removing me from your life doesn’t change that we are bound. My blood flows in your veins, like it or not. Many have killed for that privilege; you have no concept of what an honor it is. It’s unfair to me and to yourself to continuously deny that we have an unbreakable connection.

“Yes, it is true, my kind survives on blood. I’ve taken it by force when I needed to—but the current circumstances hardly warrant such behavior. I have no intention of forcing you to give any part of yourself to me.”

“Then why won’t you let me go?” I whispered.

A thrill of shock ran through me when he sat back on his heels, his hands briefly brushing over the sides of my breasts and my ribs as he pulled away. He didn’t reach for me when I scooted across the bed until my back hit the headboard, nor make any move to stop me as I tucked my knees under my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs.

“I didn’t let you go immediately because you might have run or made some foolish attempt at attacking me and mine again. You wouldn’t have listened to reason. Now that you are listening, I have no need to use force.” That’s when he smiled, the familiar wicked grin showing a hint of fang, sending a shiver through me.

“Stop doing that!” I demanded, hating the shrill waver to my voice, but unable to do anything about it.

“Doing what?”

I pointed a shaking, accusatory finger at the one visible fang. His smile widened, revealing both extended canines. “That! Put those away!”

He laughed. “Would that I had the control ... Until you calm yourself, it’s unlikely I’ll manage. Now, to business. You are not to wear that belt again—ever.”

I latched onto the anger that flared up at that statement, liking it more than the quivering terror I’d been subjected to only a moment ago. “You don’t own me!”

“No, but whatever is inside that artifact would have if I hadn’t intervened. It wasn’t until tonight that I realized just how much it was altering you. I won’t have that.”

That gave me pause. It had a ring of truth to it that I didn’t like at all. “What are you talking about?”

“As I mentioned the last time we met, I have been quite aware of your emotional state these last few weeks. When you finally calmed, I knew you hadn’t turned Were, and that something had changed. Yet, hours later, you were back in a murderous mindset. And where did you go? Back here, to me. I gave Wesley instructions to detain you so I could see for myself what was causing the problem. Most of that rage has faded with the dawn, leaving the logical conclusion that the belt has been responsible for your inability to think rationally or control your need to hunt. I had put it down to the unfortunate events you’d had to deal with during your little vacation, but it seems there was far more to it than either of us had guessed.”

That was a very terrible thing to consider. Had my actions really been mine this month? How much of what I’d thought and done had been the result of Isaac’s manipulations?

Royce said nothing while I sat there, second-guessing everything I had said and done for the last several weeks. His words seemed to have shed some light on memories and feelings that had been hidden behind the blindness of rage and hatred that had driven me for so long.

Though I was still frightened of and angry at the vampire, he was right. When I concentrated on it, I could recall moments of doubt and a desire to stop that had faded away like smoke on the wind once I put the belt on. The need to hurt and kill had grown stronger over time, fueled by my fear of change.

“Isaac,” I said, my voice a faint whisper, then paused. “The belt. What will you do with it?”

“I trust Wesley will find some convenient place to bury it. You are not to go looking for it under any circumstances. Once I am assured it has lost its hold on you, if you wish, you may have your guns back.”

I didn’t say anything, breath hitching in my throat. Seeing my expression, his softened.

“I understand you want to right the wrongs done to you, and that you want nothing but safety for your friends. However, I won’t let you do it at the expense of your own life, or at the risk of my people. Not if I can prevent it. Did you know that the belt was infecting you? That it would have taken you over completely if you had continued to wear it?”

Dull horror pierced through my shock, and I choked out a few words. “I knew it was doing something to me. Changing me. I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“No. No, you wouldn’t have. I do hope you don’t mind ...” He waved a hand at me, and I blushed anew at my lack of clothes. He shifted on the bed, and I pressed harder against the headboard—but all he was doing was settling on his side, knuckles tucked under his cheek as he regarded me. His expression was bland and his mannerisms were casual, but the sparkle in his eye and the way he watched me made it clear he was getting quite a kick out of my current state of undress. “Putting you at a disadvantage seemed the most expedient way to shock some sense back into you.”

“Oh, gee, thanks a lot,” I muttered.

“You don’t have to keep fighting me, you know. We could consummate this twisted relationship of ours, put an end to all of the difficulties between us.” He smiled again, one fingertip tracing down my bare leg, making goose bumps rise on my flesh. I jerked back, slapping at his hand. “I would not be averse to using baser methods to prove to you how foolish these notions of yours about me are. That wasn’t my intention when I started, but I know you’re curious.” He closed his eyes and inhaled, deeply, so there was no mistaking what he was doing. Creepy bastard. “I can smell it on you, taste it in the air. There’s nothing quite like the scent of a woman’s desire. It suits you—far better than that rubbish from The Circle you’re using to hide your emotions.”

I scowled at him, flushing all the way to my toes. “You—you sick—”

“Now, now—no false accusations. Am I wrong?”

I didn’t answer, glaring at that shiny ruby on his tie again, my hands clenching into impotent fists.

“Fight it all you want, but you know you’re attracted to me. We’re contracted, yes, but I won’t do anything to harm you. I find it difficult to believe that you have not realized this by now, particularly as this is not the first time I’ve had to reassure you that I do not now, nor have I ever, meant you any harm. You no longer have the moral dilemma of your boyfriend in the way. So, what is it that is stopping you? What are you so afraid of?”