Spellbound

Chapter 67

I will be posting one chapter once a week and if anything gets in the way of that, I will post the chapter at least a few days in advance to keep ya'll on schedule with the updates. Take this chapter for instance, I won't be able to post the next one until maybe next Tuesday so I'm posting this one early. I hope that ya'll enjoy it. Again, thank ya'll for reading and reviewing. Thank ya'll for making this story a favorite and for the alerts. I appreciate you all.

The story idea belongs to me but most of the characters belong to Charlaine Harris.

She could hear their minds; the human minds but not the voids. They'd always been closed off to her but she knew that they were vampires. She's always known that they were vampires. She just never knew what they truly were. They showed the world something different than. In reality, they were nothing like they really were. She then chuckled at her thought. So do humans. They were with the vampires while all of this was going on so they were no different. Vampires and humans are more alike than they'll ever admit.

Amelia sat in her cell all alone looking at the concrete walls. She'd heard them come into the dungeon a few nights ago and they haven't returned since. She also hadn't heard from Bridget. She hadn't heard Bridget's usual humming and singing since the last night the visitors came down there. They used to talk back and forth but not in the past few days. Amelia tried to make herself believe that Bridget was sleeping. She had to have been sleeping. She was just overly tired and she has been sleeping her days away. She wanted to escape the nightmare that they were living and the only way that she could do that was by sleeping. Sleeping always made them feel better.

And if that excuse didn't sound right, Amelia would go one better. Amelia started to believe that maybe Bridget had a sore throat from all that singing. She loved to hear Bridget sing. They all loved to hear Bridget sing. For some reason, it made them feel closer to each other. It made them feel like they were at home. At least it made her feel closer to them. It made her feel as if she was a part of them. It made her feel as if she belonged with them but not anymore. Now, she felt all alone because the singing had stopped. And it was because of a simple sore throat.

Amelia began to nod. It had to have been because of a sore throat. That was the only logical explanation. Bridget had an extremely bad sore throat and talking and singing only made the pain worse so she'd stopped singing. It made sense. It made perfect sense. She had been singing a lot more before they came and took her away. Amelia then sighed. There was also the other explanation.

The second worst explanation could have been that she'd decided to stop speaking to Amelia. If it weren't for Amelia, none of them would be in this predicament. They'd be doing what they would normally be doing; dating, working, going to school, living their lives but they weren't and Bridget blamed Amelia. After all, their capture was her fault.

"No," she whispered. "No. That's not it. It has to be something else. Maybe they let her go," she whispered.

She knew that was a lie when heard the words coming from her mouth. She'd come up with all kinds of excuses but none of them had a ring of truth to them. She knew the real truth. She knew that Bridget and all of the other girls were dead and they were dead because of her.

Amelia sat on her cot and cried. She hadn't cried so since the death of her mother. If only she had stayed away from the vampires like her daddy warned her. She wished that she'd never heard of that vampire bar. If she'd done as she said she was going to do, she wouldn't be stuck in a damp dungeon. Her best friend wouldn't be dead. They'd be on vacation and beautifully tanned. They'd be drinking some fruity and too sweet drink from a coconut cup. An umbrella, probably pink or yellow, would be sticking out of their drinks and swaying easily in the breeze but they're not on vacation. There are no too sweet and fruity drinks. They weren't tanned. And there were no pink and yellow umbrellas dancing in a coconut cup. She was in a cell and Bridget was dead. The other girls are dead and gone.

She wished that she was. To have them leave her alone, if she couldn't go home, death would be her second choice.

She was tired of the dark and she was especially tired of the dark haired vampire. Her boyfriend. What a joke. She was nothing more than a job to him. She hated him for making her fall in love with him. She wanted him dead. He'd made a fool of her. He made her believe that she was special to him but in reality, she meant nothing to him. She should've seen it.

When she felt that pressure behind her eyes when he first approached her, she should've known. She'd assumed that it was just another headache. She's always been prone to them. She didn't know what he was doing. And the first time he fed from her, his eyes glazed over. He stopped just long enough to peer into her eyes and ask her what she was.

"A spoiled rich girl," she answered.

After that first taste, he wanted her incessantly and she loved it. She'd never had anyone, man or vampire, want her as he'd wanted her. He made her feel special. He made her feel as if he'd always protect her; keep her safe.

"My dear, sweet Amelia," he'd say. "I'm the only vampire that you'll ever be able to trust. Every other vampire is not like me. If they ever get a taste if you, they'd never be able to control themselves the way that I do. They'll drain you dry. I'll keep you safe, Amelia."

Nothing but lies and false security.

"Bill," she whispered. "Fucking Bill Compton."

She believed everything that he'd ever told her but it was all a lie. She was just something for him to feed on and to fuck. She meant nothing to him. When he'd asked her about a few of her female friends, if they were like her, she should've known what he wanted but she couldn't hear him. She couldn't hear any of them. If she could've just read his mind, none of this would've happened. Those girls wouldn't be dead and she'd be at home. They'd all be at home with their families.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Her whimpers became sobs. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know."

She believed that he wanted to be with her; a part of her life. It's not unheard of for vampires to be in relationships with other supes and humans. She didn't think that he had a hidden agenda. She didn't know that introducing him to her friends was going to be a death sentence for them all. She didn't know that taking them to that bar would be the death of them. She didn't know that one by one, they'd all come up missing. And it never occurred to her that he was the reason that they were gone. She also never expected him to do what he's done to her.

But she should've known. She should've seen him for what he is but she was blinded by love, by lust. His voice was so smooth and so cool. His touch melted every inch of her body. The way he'd kiss her made her feel as if she was the most delicate of roses. The way that he made love to her; it was the most pleasurable experience of her young life. He made her feel loved. He made her feel wanted and needed but it wasn't real. It was nothing more than a game. That's all it could've been. That's all it ever was.

"You're my favorite," he'd whisper in her ear as he fucked her.

That's what the other vampire said after her vampire lover passed her along to his friends. Since she'd been locked away, she'd been nothing more than something for them to play with, to experiment on. When she weakened and was near death, they realized that she needed to eat. They couldn't keep their sex toy and their guinea pig alive if she didn't eat. So they kept her fed and bathed. There would be vampires tasting her night after night but only after the others were gone; the humans. They couldn't let the humans know everything that they were doing; not that they would've helped her. They knew that she was being held captive. As far as they knew, it was all about the blood.

She'd heard them say that she was the right one; the right type. Tara's wasn't strong enough. Bridget's was too strong. She would be the very end of them. The end of life as they knew it. The use of her blood would end everything. Connie's wasn't strong enough. Cecile's blood had been tainted. She was sick and she was going to die anyway. They'd done her a favor by killing her. But Amelia's … her blood was just right. Her blood was the perfect mix of what they needed. She wasn't like the others. She was better than the others.

They kept calling her Fae. They would bombard her with question after question. They would ask her what her bloodline was. They would ask her if she knew any of her kinsmen. The only kinsman that she had was her daddy.

"I'm a Carmichael," she'd answer. "My daddy is Copley Carmichael. My mother was a Broadway. I use her last name for everything. Please, let me go home. I won't tell anyone what's happened. I promise. Just let me go home," she'd beg.

But her begging fell upon deaf ears. They'd taste her over and over again as if they could discover who she was with just the tiniest sip of her blood. The night after asking her about her bloodline, they tried sniffing her but being in that dungeon and not having a bath for quite some time didn't help so they did the next best thing. They bathed her. And her sent was sweet but faint.

The old vampire, the sickly vampire, he was the one that called her Fae. He was the one that told him that she was the one that he needed. He could smell the fae in her through her skin. "She's the one," he said.

Amelia sighed and lay back on the cot as she looked up at the ceiling. She whimpered even if she moved just a little. Her body was sore. Her entire body was sensitive to the touch. And her heart was broken. Her spirit was broken. She wanted nothing more than to go home and take a long hot bath. She wanted to go home and eat macaroni and cheese and French toast. She missed her bed and her cell phone. She missed the internet. She missed her home. She missed her daddy and she especially missed her friends. She so desperately missed the friends that she'd unwittingly killed.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember how long she'd been held captive but she couldn't remember. She tried remembering what the sun looked like but she couldn't.

Amelia's weary body was tired. Her eyes were tired from crying. She curled herself into a ball and closed her eyes just as she did every day. She'd always hope that when she woke up, she'd be at home and in her bed but she never was. She woke up every night to her nightmare but she never stopped believing that the nightmare wasn't real. It was going to stop and it was going to go away. She'd hoped that the police would find her or her daddy. Maybe even the faery princess that Bridget used to tell her about, Sookie.

Amelia could almost see Bridget's smiling face as she talked about her. "She is the princess of all the faeries and all you have to do is call to her and she'll save you."

"Why don't you call her?" Amelia asked.

Bridget would never answer.

For the first time in a very long time, Amelia laughed. The faery princess couldn't have been real. She didn't save Bridget or the other girls. She wasn't going to save her.

Amelia then settled into her flat pillow and snuggled under the scratchy, grey blanket. "Someone'll find me and I'll go home and everything is going to be alright. This is nothing more than a bad dream; a very bad dream," she repeated as she closed her eyes.