Pain without Love

Chapter 1

OOC: Hiiya! Okay this story is based off the story world inside of Amelia Atwater Rhodes vampire novels. I wish she'd write more because I miss them oh so much. Only a few of the characters are the same as in her novels, so most of them are my own creations. I take no credit for what is rightfully hers!

The walls around her were made of cold stone; her sick humor hit her in the face for a moment. Since when did people still have stone dungeons? Waist-length brown hair fell around her body like a blanket. She sighed. She'd been sitting in the same hellhole for nearly a week, or at least she thought it'd been a week. With no windows, it was hard to tell when days passed. Her thin body was dressed in a pair of torn white shorts and a tight fitting black top; it was a tank top with a low cut neckline. There were no undergarments given to her, so she was rather embarrassed whenever the men would look at her. Where was she exactly? That was what she wanted to know. Zoey groaned and set her head on her knee. "Girl, stand up. You're coming with me!" shouted a man from outside her hellhole. Zoey looked up slowly and glared at the man. "You heard me, bitch! Get the hell up!" He was a handsome man, but everyone of power at the establishment was. They all seemed so powerful, like they weren't human. She frowned and stood up. "That's a good girl, your Master Deja will be pleased to see you behaving…" As Zoey walked up next to the man she smirked. Behave? Her? She quickly shot out her fist, nailing him in the stomach before kneeing him in the groin. As he grunted and closed his eyes in pain she burst off in a run. She made it to the top of the stairs before the man from below grabbed her ankle and she fell on her face. The rough concrete stairs scratched her face, leaving bloody marks along her cheek. "You stupid bitch!" The man grabbed her by the hair and dragged her up the rest of the stairs, not caring that she was screaming and crying.

"Kurt, what the hell are you doing? What happened to her?" asked a man that Zoey couldn't see.

"The bitch hit me and then ran up the stairs, then she fell. Wasn't my fault…" Kurt growled.

"Well if you hadn't grabbed me! I wouldn't have fallen you asshole!" snapped Zoey. Her words were met with a rough tug of her hair. She flinched and was dragged again. She quickly learned it hurt less when she didn't struggle. Finally, she was pulled to her feet and pushed roughly into a room. She saw another girl in the room, she had short-cropped blonde hair and blue eyes, she looked scared and her body looked frail.

"Ahh, this is who I was speaking to you of…I like to call her Fiona…I feel it fits her natural beauty…" spoke Master Deja. He was a tall man, easily six foot-five, and he had dark hair that stood in a broad contrast against his pale skin and bright green eyes. "However- This won't do…" Deja grabbed Zoey's chin and turned it so he could see her cheek. "Fiona, what happened to your cheek?" Deja inquired.

"My name's Zoey Hansen, not Fiona. For God's sake." Zoey's voice was cruel. Deja's face contorted in anger and he quickly shoved Zoey back into a wall. She cringed as her head made impact with the hard surface. "Kurt did it…" she hissed. "I hit him…tried to escape…but he grabbed me and I fell…"

"Ahh…I see. So essentially it was your fault. But nonetheless he shall be punished. Now- Daniel, do you like her? Or the blonde?" asked Deja. Zoey looked over Deja's shoulder and saw a man sitting on a small black armchair. He was watching Zoey with dark blue eyes. They seemed interested in her, and she quickly looked away, squirming to get her chin out of Deja's grip. It only caused the grip to tighten and she cried out. "Does that hurt? It should…" hissed Deja. "On your knees…" he growled. Zoey didn't do anything so Deja made his grip so tight that Zoey believed her chin about to break. She fell to her knees in pain and lowered her head to stare at the ground. "Good girl…Well Daniel…"

"I'll give you four-hundred thousand for the troublesome one…" murmured the man named Daniel. "Does that satisfy your thirst for cash?"

"Hmm…I do believe that's good enough. She's been more trouble then I liked anyway…so I should really be paying you to take her…" Deja stated with a laugh. "Now go- I want her out of my sight…" Deja shoved Zoey away from him with his foot before leaving the room. A man quickly came into the room and pressed Zoey face first into the floor. While she laid complacent in that position he bound her hands and wrists tightly behind her back. The rope hurt her skin, but she didn't make any sounds. She couldn't believe it. She was being sold. Slavery had clearly been made against the law years ago, but these men were selling her! She felt a shiver run down her spine as she was pulled to her feet and left in the room with her new "master". Zoey refused to look at him, and so merely looked at the ground. As she watched the floor she realized her head hurt very much, as she focused on the spots dancing in front of her eyes she saw a pair of black shoes come into her view.

"Well then…Let's go…" said Daniel. Zoey felt the touch of an ice-cold hand on her elbow and she flinched away from it. The hand grabbed her elbow tightly and then she blacked out.

The house was silent, Zoey looked around curiously. "Mom? Daddy?" she looked through every room and found herself completely alone, or so she thought.

"Your parents are on a cruise…they don't even know you exist…" spoke a voice from behind her. Zoey turned to see a man, tall, with black hair and green eyes. "I am Master Deja, and you my dear are now mine…For the time being…"

"My parents? They don't remember me? How- Who are you?" demanded Zoey. She blinked and Deja was standing inches from her. His hand moved up and gripped her throat, pushing her back into a mirror. The mirror shattered with the impact of her body, cuts formed across her back as glass shards dug into her skin. "Get off me!" she cried out. "Get off! GO AWAY!"

Zoey awoke gasping for air. "Go away!" she cried out as she sat up. Zoey took a few deep breaths before she registered where she was. She still wore the scraps of clothing from Master Deja. However she now sat in a large bedroom, it was comfortable and warm. The floor was covered in a dark crimson carpet, and the walls were a warm shade of brown. The bed she was laying on had red blankets and pillows of varying shades. A large television was placed on the wall on the far side of the room. It seemed to be more of a suite then a bedroom. A couch and coffee table sat in front of the television. There was a door on one wall and she assumed it went to a bathroom. Brown curtains were pulled across several windows in the room. The only light that allowed her to see her surroundings came from a lamp near the couch. "Where…" she reached up as she spoke, her cheek hurt. Her hand came away from her cheek covered in crusts of dried blood. "Shit…now I remember…"

"Shit…it's such a horrible word for a lady," spoke a smooth voice from the corner of the room. Zoey looked over and frowned. It was the man who had bought her. "Wouldn't you say?"

"No. I don't think so. I think a lady can say whatever the hell she wants…" Zoey snapped. Daniel raised a brow, he looked amused but he was really rather annoyed. "Why am I here?"

"You aren't really in a position to ask question Zoey Hansen…" the man spoke her name and didn't call her Fiona, it made her relax a bit. "You are…my..Hm..Slave…" Her relaxation ended as he spoke. "I bought you…now you are rightfully mine…and you are supposed to do whatever I ask of you…" Zoey's eyes widened and she glared at the man.

"Like Hell I am!" Zoey snapped angrily. "You can't just buy people you sicko!" Zoey moved to get up from the bed, but Daniel was there in a flash. She felt a cold chill move down her spine as her fear sunk in.

"Did you ever stop to think…that perhaps your stay here will be a pleasant one?" asked Daniel, a brow raised. He leaned towards Zoey and despite how much she wanted to shy away, his eyes entranced her. Daniel's lips pressed against Zoey's and she found herself melting away into a peaceful oblivion. In the back of her mind she knew this was a bad idea, but she couldn't will herself to do anything but be molded by his cold, icy hands.