JENNIE
She didn't throw me from the window.
Cold fingers tangled in my hair instead, yanking me forward. Our lips met so fiercely it hurt before she lunged, pinning me against the glass with the weight of her body.
I should have bitten her, pulled back.
I shouldn't have slanted my mouth against hers, allowing her tongue to slip inside.
Just like that, I knew instantly what true corruption felt like. It was this; surrender, Lisa Manoban claiming me in a way that no one else ever had—more intimately than sex.
And this time I couldn't blame a contract.
Her tongue dominated mine, clashing and demanding submission. Boldly, her hand slid between us, stroking a tortuous path to my inner thigh.
God.
She caressed, dragging her thumb up and down …around. My eyes fluttered, threatening to roll back into my skull as a million, hazy sensations rollicked through me all at once—and this time, I didn't fight them.
She felt good.
Rough and wrong, but so …damn …good.
Heat flared, washing any shred of hesitation away. I shifted, rubbing myself against her like a wanton whore—and I didn't care. My nails raked the skin beneath her shirt as I clutched fistfuls of it for stability.
She teased, brushing her fingers along the length of me, before grazing that bundle of nerves that had my body jerking on the tips of my toes. Then, as if knowing instinctively what I needed, her thumb surged upright, striking right there. I was breathless when she finally pulled away—but it was only to swiftly tug at the fastenings of her pants, still keeping hold on my wrist.
I watched, almost dazed as she undid the zipper one-handed with speedy precision. Within the blink of an eye, her pants were on the floor.
I swallowed hard as I took her in. Every inch of her was chiseled, perfect. I couldn't stop myself from reaching out to brush a finger along the length of her hip.
She wore nothing underneath. No boxers. No briefs.
I bit back a hysterical urge to laugh. Lisa Manoban was an enigma that somehow managed to avoid answering that age old question. 'Boxers or briefs?'
Her fingers seized mine, wrenching them up to pin my arm against the glass. Her hips rocked into me and I could feel the cold, hard length of her pressing against my inner thigh. My legs drifted apart before she could even begin to issue a command.
There was no slow teasing, no gentleness. She entered me so fiercely my vision exploded into shards of white.
As if from far away, I heard myself cry out as nerves deep within me came to life, exploded. Ice and fire swelled inside my body until I could have screamed from the intensity of it—but before the sound could even build in my throat, her mouth was on mine.
She devoured me, fangs nipping my lower lip, drawing beads of blood for her tongue to lap away. I tasted a metallic flavor but I wasn't disgusted. I relished the taste of my essence mixed with hers.
The fingers in my hair became ruthless, tugging—pulling—forcing me to respond to her. Move. I lifted my hips, meeting her thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke, until I couldn't breathe, think.
The ominous sound of the window protesting against our weight barely registered above the thud of my own heartbeat. At some point, a part of me realized that she might send us both crashing through the glass.
And I didn't care.
Ecstasy built like wildfire, coiling in my belly and crawling through the rest of my body. My hands broke free from her grasp and clutched her shoulders, nails digging into her skin, not caring if I hurt her. In fact …I almost wanted to draw blood—to mark her the same way she'd marked me.
Mine.
She lunged, thrusting so deeply I knew my hips would bruise. Her mouth was at my throat, and a burst of cool air was the only warning before her fangs sank deep and pleasure exploded through my body, so intense I could taste it.
The world fell away.
And the last thing I was aware of was drowning in ice.
--
I woke up to silence.
It wasn't like the suffocating emptiness of Kim Manor, where the servants crept around like mice, trying to avoid notice on purpose. This was more …still. As if I were the only living soul left in the world.
With a sigh, I peeled my eyes open to a concave ceiling and attempted to get my bearings. For one, I was naked. My entire body ached—my hip in particular throbbed with every breath I took—but that wasn't all ...
I was lying on a bed. Someone had draped me beneath a single, white sheet, and even before I rolled over to face the vacant sliver of mattress beside me, I knew that Lisa was gone …and I was alone.
In her place sat a neat pile of clothing, and a folded strip of paper.
It took me ages to gather up the nerve to open it. My fingers shook as they pried the pages apart to reveal the message written in elegant script.
The car is out front to take you home, read the first line. Wait for me there.
And then …scribbled hastily across the bottom of the page as if she had hesitated before adding them were four, simple words.
We need to talk.
Anxiety coiled in my stomach, mingling with the throbbing pain in my hip. Talk? The Lisa Manoban I knew only communicated with commands and cryptic messages hidden within words or carved into skin.
Talking was blunt. Talking was …terrifying.
Nearly ten minutes had passed before I managed gather up the nerve to crawl out of bed and into the bathroom. After finding a clean cloth, I washed myself robotically, trying to ignore the reddish liquid that circled the drain—and those four words echoing in my brain.
We need to talk.
I focused on running my fingers through my hair until I no longer resembled something my cat might have thrown up. The clothing she'd left for me was oddly simple: a plain white blouse and a brown, tweed skirt—but it wasn't until I was fully dressed, staring at my reflection, that I realized they were both mine, taken directly from my wardrobe.
The realization sent an ominous chill running down my spine. We need to talk. I tried to ignore it as I returned to the main hall.
My shoes and purse were there waiting for me. The only objects that seemed to be missing were the keys to the car. Go figure. Something told me that the trusty Rolls Royce was already safely returned to the garage.
I tried to tell myself that was a good thing as I descended the stairs to the main level of the church. The fact that Lisa had effortlessly tied up the loose ends meant nothing. Her 'talk' was most likely another renegotiation in disguise.
Right?
I wasn't fully convinced by the time I crept into the main Cathedral.
A few pious souls had already started to fill the pews, but they didn't even look up as I headed for the door. Regardless, I felt like an outsider—an unholy soul who didn't deserve to set foot inside of such a sacred place. I could almost imagine the statues of Saints set in the walls glaring down at me as I scuttled out into the daylight. Sinner! Sinner!
Outside, bright sunlight filtered down through a smattering of clouds. It was overcast, but the weak sun still seemed blinding. I felt like a prisoner, seeing freedom for the first time after years of imprisonment …but I almost wished the sky was an endless black instead. The thought haunted me as I wandered down the path that led from the church where, as promised, a familiar car was there waiting.
Now what? I wondered as I crept forward, feeling uneasy for reasons I couldn't explain. The last bit of Lisa's message still reverberated in my skull.
"Morning, Miss."
With a stern expression, the driver pulled open the door to the backseat and hardly looked in my direction as I settled inside—and my unease only grew. What did he know?
You're being paranoid, Jennie. I told myself as I wrung my fingers together over my lap. You're not thinking rationally.
Ironically, once the door closed behind me, and the tinted windows shut out most of the sunlight, I could finally seem to focus—namely on two rather important developments.
I had kissed Lisa Manoban.
She had kissed me in return.
It felt unnatural thinking on those two statements, one right after the other. As insane as 'I died' and 'I'm alive' uttered at once—though, when dealing with vampires I supposed the normal rules no longer applied.
When the car finally came to a stop, I was prepared to begin the long journey up the winding staircase to my bedroom where I could panic in private. However, the building waiting beyond the car's window was not Kim Manor. In fact it wasn't a 'house' at all. What seemed to be a restaurant sat on the corner of an innocuous city road. A line of red paint across the darkened window-front read, Sanguis.
It was a name that would have had little meaning to someone not inducted into the shadowy world of vampires—or, at least who hadn't been forced to suffer through two years of Latin instruction.
Sanguis was the word for blood, and I had a sinking suspicion that only one type of creature would think to name a restaurant so 'creatively.'
Alarmed, I turned to the front seat.
"Weren't you supposed to take me home?"
"This is the stop, Miss," the driver replied, staring dead ahead.
Perhaps Lisa had changed her mind and decided to spring for another intimidating lunch. Confused, I reached for the handle of the door, only to be distracted by the destination once again.
I didn't even recognize this part of the city. There was no one else on the street. As I warily climbed onto the curb, a voice in my head sounded a warning. Run, Jennie! Something isn't right …
"Are you sure?" I glanced over my shoulder. "Lisa told you to bring me here?"
In the rearview mirror, a pair of dark eyes finally met mine, but they were guarded, furtive.
"Yes," he said, but then after a second's hesitation he added, "I'm sorry—"
"Jennie Kim." The familiar, husky voice came from behind me and my entire body went rigid. "Right on time."
Before I had the chance to react, a warm hand snaked over my wrist, wrenching me around to face a grinning Somi. She was dressed to kill—and something told me that, in her case, that wasn't just a figurative expression. Scarlet hair tumbled down her shoulders in thick, heavy ringlets, and the black dress she wore was undeniably elegant.
"Come along," she told me, flashing a crimson smile. Without another word she reached across me to close the car door. Then she turned, pulling me after her.
Frantic questions tumbled out of me, one after the other. "Where are we? What are you doing here?"
My heart raced with every step closer I came to the intimidating front of Sanguis. It looked normal on the surface …
But underneath I could sense the same foreboding aura that had permeated the air of Raphael's Manor—that instinctive knowledge that predators lurked within. The feeling only intensified as Somi grasped the handle of a blood red door and pulled it open.
It was dark inside.
The faint scent of food hit my nose, but there was a musky undertone as if nothing edible had been prepared within these walls in a long while. It was quiet but as the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, I knew we weren't alone.
"This way," Somi chirped before pulling me down an unseen hallway.
Faint light emanated from a doorway up ahead, a dining room.
It was large and sparsely furnished; only a few paintings, framed in gold, decorated the dark red walls. Regardless, I could tell in a single glance that it made even the most elegant room in Kim Manor look like a worn down shanty in comparison.
In the center of the room, at a table draped in a pristine, white tablecloth, sat a man so pale his skin reflected the light of the chandelier that dangled overhead. Long, ebony hair framed an angular face, crowned by two black eyes that cut through me with more precision than any blade.
I had only seen him once before, but recognition struck me instantly.
"Jennie Kim," Raphael greeted, his voice as chilling as ice. "So glad that you could join me."