Chapter 45
"I Am Not Your Thing"
Warm lips ran trailed along Evangeline's neck, kissing their way upwards. Her head was in a fog, but the pleasure mounting in her body was registering. She felt bare skin against her own and a moan of contentment passed her lips. "…Jack…"
"Pardon me?" It wasn't Jack. "Jack who?"
Evangeline's eyes opened, her head clearing. "What?"
"Not to worry." Now that Evangeline was fully awake, Damien decided that names no longer mattered, only the physical. "More pressing matters," he said, grinding his hips against Evangeline's.
"N…no," Evangeline said, trying to push him away.
"You wish your cousin to remain safe?" Evangeline let her arms go limp. "Much better. It's a beautiful night for this."
"Beautiful night for what?" she asked, not understanding why she felt sicker than she thought the situation merited. "What did you make me drink?"
Damien smiled. "The blood of my conquests." Evangeline stared blankly. "All part of the ritual, my dear."
"Ritual?" She sounded like a frightened child…and she knew it. Shame now coursed through her body along with her escalating fear.
The captain sat up, lust in his eyes. "Of course. You drink my conquests essence, I have my fill of you until midnight…" He smiled grotesquely. "…then I bleed you dry for my Dark Prince."
At first, Evangeline wanted to laugh at the absurdity of what she had just heard, however, when she caught sight of Damien's chest, that urge left her body. Scar tissue covered his otherwise flawless skin…said scarring was in the shape of a huge pentagram. "Satan?"
Damien nodded, that smile still on his face. "You will be my finest offering to him. His most alluring bride."
Gathering her senses, and remembering the pride she once had in her abilities to take care of herself, Evangeline pushed Damien off of her. The charm of her necklace, which had, luckily, been swung around to her back, made its presence known. "So sorry, but I already belong to someone - hell will just have to wait."
Damien clearly saw the bird around her neck. "A Sparrow…ah, and Jack wasn't just a drowsy passing name." He chuckled, his hand reaching out to caress her bare breast. "This makes everything so much more…rewarding." He grabbed Evangeline, spinning her around so that her back was to his chest. His arousal was begging to be let out.
"Get off of me!" Evangeline screamed. She wriggled out of his grasp.
His smile disappeared. "Consider your cousin dead."
Spying his sword against the wall, Evangeline lunged for it, despite the fact that her dress hung about her waist. "She can't be killed if the order isn't given."
"And you feel you can stop me?" Damien was quite amused.
Evangeline swung, but felt that her strength was less than half of what it usually was. Of course, she hadn't eaten or slept properly in quite a while…and there was the bloody cocktail that she had ingested. Damien grabbed her wrist, squeezing on her tendons. The sword fell.
"I've never once had to take my sacrifice against her will. She was always more than willing to succumb to my advances. Why must you be so difficult?"
Evangeline's breath caught in her throat. "I am not your thing," she said meekly, just as she had said about Jack…it felt as though she'd uttered those words a lifetime ago.
"Perhaps a struggle will do us both some good." He tore the dress so that it fell from her waist. A sound of protest, but no solid words, passed through Evangeline's lips. Damien rolled his eyes. "It won't work if I don't have you first!" He hit her and she lost her balance, stumbling onto the bed. "Good girl." His hands groped at her, one now tearing at her breeches.
"S…stop!"
His mouth clamped over hers, nearly bruising as he freed himself. Evangeline bit his tongue, making him pull back just enough for her to roll; they teetered at the edge of the bed. "Sodding whore!" He screamed, blood trickling from his mouth. He hit her a second time and Evangeline jerked, causing them to fall to the floor. Damien's back hit the wooden surface hard enough to stun him for a moment. That moment was all she needed.
Evangeline scrambled to his sword, fear rather than courage causing her actions. She stood up, her torn breeches the only clothing on her body and a primal scream erupted from somewhere deep inside of her. She swung at him blindly. No techniques, no skill… She didn't know how many times the captain's blade slid through his skin. She wasn't unnerved as he laughed and begged for more. When his laughing stopped, she stopped moving. She dropped his sword and took in the carnage before her…the second death that she had caused.
