Chapter 3

Sookie glared at him. Eric looked back at her, confused.

"What is the matter? You enjoyed that as much as I did. More. I must have given you a dozen orgasms."

"And? What's your point?"

All of a sudden, he was furious, too.

"My point is that you led me here. You were on your knees before I walked into the room. I smelled how much you wanted me. You were practically begging me for it."

She barked out a laugh. "You mean, after I refused to fuck you and you couldn't glamour me into bed, you frog-marched me back to the King of Nevada so he would make me do it? Well he did, you got your rocks off a couple of times, and now we need to get on with our evening. So, do you want to rape me again or are we going to go downstairs and get to work?"

He was completely incredulous. "You were not raped. I am not a rapist. I do not tolerate rape. You enjoyed every second of it."

She shrugged. "Of course I enjoyed myself. It felt damn good and you were really generous with those orgasms. That doesn't change the fact that I am here against my will, as a prisoner of the King of Nevada, and I have to do whatever I'm told. Including fucking you. I don't get a say."

Eric opened his mouth to argue and then closed it again. He had taken her back to Felipe because he'd been angry about the slap and because he needed her to behave herself and follow orders out in the casino, for her protection as well as his convenience, but also because he'd wanted to fuck her and had been angry when he'd been rebuffed.

When he'd arrived two nights before, she had been sitting with the donors. Victor had chosen her from there and then fucked her mouth on the stage. She'd looked more than willing. The same the following night. Pleased with herself, even. In his mind, she'd been a Fangbanger from the start. An especially enthusiastic one. He had known thousands of humans who'd frequented spaces like Fangtasia and the VIV Club and every single one of them would have fucked him at a moment's notice. Even the men who'd considered themselves heterosexual. Fangbangers just didn't say no — especially not the ones getting off on taking two cocks at once on a stage in front of more than a dozen vampires, and then parading around proudly, dripping in their cum. And especially not to him. Despite her obvious hostility towards him, he hadn't shifted out of that gear.

And, yes, as it turned out, she was also a slave whom Felipe had given him free rein to punish if she didn't behave, but the fact that Sookie the sexpot was also property of the King hadn't really connected in his mind.

She had seemed perfectly content right up until the moment she had kicked up a fuss. In his mind, she had been nothing more than an entitled human who thought she could get away with being difficult because she had a special talent and was the King's spoiled little pet. Testing boundaries and seeing where she fit in the order of things with her tantrum-cum-power-play. Being a brat because the King enjoyed her antics and encouraged them.

In hindsight, it was obvious he'd been wrong to assume she'd wanted to fuck his brains out once she'd gotten her point across. Whether or not she was owned by the king, Eric hadn't even entertained the thought she might have been unwilling, even though the King had only told her to obey after she'd refused to go upstairs with him.

Really, he hadn't thought much about it at all. And it pissed him off that she'd made him feel guilty.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I figured out shortly after I got to this hellhole that, if I had any hope of surviving this, I needed to take back control of whatever I could. So I throw myself into the sex. I am really fucking good at it, pardon the pun. I refuse to feel shame and humiliation for something that isn't my fault. I refuse to suffer. I get off on whatever I can, as much as possible. Make the best of a really crappy situation. I figure that if I'm going to get raped night after night after night, by God, at least I'm going to enjoy it."

She took a step forward so she was right in front of him. The anger was coming off her in waves.

"But just because it feels good doesn't change the fact that every single time I am taken or given away as a prize, it is against my will. I have never consented to sex. Not once."

He wanted to push her up against the wall and kiss her hard and take her again but he couldn't. Everything kept getting worse. Not only had he been forced out of his happy life in Shreveport and sent to the desert to be a babysitter, he would be babysitting a mouthy bitch whose blood he already craved and who was hands down the best fuck of his existence, but was off-limits because she'd called him a rapist and — worse — made him feel like one. She would be taunting him with her beauty and scent while she baited him and pissed him off and made him doubt himself. And the angrier she was with him, the more he wanted to take her, which made him feel like a rapist all over again. And now he couldn't even punish her into silence in good conscience, so he would have to listen to her spew her hatred. Indefinitely.

And yet he couldn't help but be impressed. It had taken him much longer to learn the same lesson. Things had gotten infinitely better for him when he'd finally let go and learned to enjoy being his maker's plaything. And he knew his maker wouldn't have released him nearly as soon had he still been fighting back.

And he had pushed boundaries when he'd been able to get away with it, too.

He was the one who looked away first. He took a half step back.

"Are you hungry? We can start at one of the restaurants if you need to eat. Otherwise, we can try the casino floor."

After a few moments, she relaxed a little.

"Yeah. Yeah, I could eat something, I guess."

He nodded. "Good."

He was afraid that he had made a terrible mistake showing so much weakness but he was glad to have the situation deescalated in the meantime.

When she went into the bathroom, he looked through the bag Felipe's receptionist had given him. There were cable tie restraints and a large key and a wide selection of both prescription and street drugs. There was a kit with a hypodermic needle and spoon and lighter and rubber tourniquet, and a small neoprene pouch containing a vial of V. This wasn't carefully controlled vampire blood, ready to be administered in case of emergency. No real care was taken in its handling. It would be unstable and its effects unpredictable. A party drug. He had no idea what they would be using it for except, he supposed, hypersexuality. It hardly seemed like she needed such a thing.

He didn't know what to do with any of it. He put the key in his pocket and threw the bag down on the chair in the corner.

He heard the sink turn on and off and the bathroom door opened. Her face was blank again. She looked at him but it almost seemed like she looked right through him instead.

"I guess I'm ready to go."

They left his room and took the elevator downstairs. She was silent. All of the hostility in the atmosphere had drained away. She appeared to feel nothing except complete indifference. He wished he could say the same. He found himself impressed with her again, although he didn't know for sure if she was incredibly good at hiding her feelings from him or from herself.

"Where would you like to eat?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what my options are."

There was a large coffin-shaped information kiosk nearby with a casino map and directory. There were almost three dozen restaurants listed — everything from fast food to fine dining — and he watched her study her options. Her eyebrows furrowed a little in concentration but she gave nothing away.

He was surprised when she chose the twenty-four hour diner. It was… generic. The food was inexpensive and mass-produced, the waitresses looked tired and overworked, and there was no real decoration or branding except for the paper placemats that advertised the nightly $1.99 stake and eggs special, only available until sunrise. They sat in the non-smoking section but a cloud of tobacco smoke hung overhead.

She looked at the menu a long time before she decided on a glass of water and a cold sandwich that she only picked at before declaring herself finished. He flagged down the waitress and she headed right over.

"Can I get anything else for you tonight?"

Eric said, "No. Just the bill."

"Sure thing." She pulled the ticket out of her apron and set it down on the table in front of him. She looked at Sookie and smiled. "Everything ok?"

Sookie smiled back but it didn't meet her eyes.

"Yes. It was fine, thank you."

He hadn't seen her smile before. He wished that it didn't look so strange on her face. So foreign. Almost like she'd forgotten how. He set his key card down on top of the bill.

"Charge it to my room."

"Sure thing, honey."

The waitress picked it up. Sookie reached out and touched her wrist.

"And please add a fifty percent tip."

The waitress's smile became more authentic. Her eyes softened a little, even though it didn't work out to much.

"Thanks."

The waitress looked at Eric first to make sure he wasn't going to object. He didn't. She ran the charge through and gave him back his card and he and Sookie headed towards the casino. He felt strangely exhausted, even though it wasn't quite midnight.

Rather than trying to deal with a group situation at one of the tables, he sat them down in front of a couple of slot machines. It was one of the games that vampires were allowed to play but he just watched her push Max Bet over and over and over again, while his imaginary money drained away twenty-five dollars at a time. Win or lose, her expression didn't change.

After a couple of hours, he asked if she needed to eat or drink or take care of her needs. She shook her head and kept pressing the button.

A little while later, she hit a jackpot. The slot machine played an audio clip of a siren and the LCD screen displayed a bag of money that expanded until it burst open, sending dollar bills flying in every direction. Other gamblers turned to look. Sookie sat quietly with her hands in her lap until the animation ended. She started pressing the button again. He had worried about not being able to punish her into silence. Instead, the silence was oppressive.

At three in the morning, he gave up.

"That is enough for tonight. Come. I will take you back to your room."

She stood up and looked at him. Her face and voice showed no emotion.

"Sure you don't want to rape me again first?"

He clenched his jaw. "No. I will not have sex with you again unless you explicitly consent."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Her room was off the VIV Club, so that's where they went. When he looked up from scanning his key card to unlock the door, she had her eyes closed. She opened them again a second later and he could see nothing that hinted to what she might be thinking. He followed her inside. She gestured to the door she'd gone through with Sandy the night before.

"That's my room over there."

The Club was very busy. There were groups of vampires talking and laughing scattered throughout and an orgy going on where the fights had been held the two nights before. A cheer went up after several turned to look at them.

"Sookie. Come."

Victor was ball-deep in a human man. Sookie nodded at him and then turned to Eric.

"Bye."

She walked over and got undressed and was quickly engulfed in the sea of bodies. She was almost immediately filled in one end and then the other. His cock was hard and throbbing and he wanted to wade in and beat them all away from her. Or else fill her only remaining hole and take her, too. She had him so fucked up he didn't know what to do with himself. He turned and went back up to his room. He watched television until it was time to go to his rest. He did a poor job of not dreading what was to come.

…

Finally, she was alone, locked back up in her room for the day. It was winter, and sunset came early, and she really needed to get some sleep. It was even harder to cope when she was exhausted. Then again, it was impossible when she didn't follow her routine. She turned the hot water on all the way until the glass shower doors and mirror and camera lens all fogged over. She turned the sink on full blast and hung her towel over the handle that horizontally divided the shower door in two. She added just enough cold water so that it wouldn't quite scald her but would hopefully still make her feel clean. She was ready. Whether it mattered or not — whether they saw her or they didn't — this was her ritual. This was the only privacy she was able to get. She chose to believe it was real.

As a rule, she let herself feel hatred, lust, pleasure, pride, and indifference. This was the only place, the only time, she allowed herself to feel anything else. She turned off the light and climbed into the shower and sat on the floor in the corner. She made sure she was hidden behind the towel, just in case the camera was still able to see. She wrapped her arms around her knees, put her head down, and sobbed as quietly as she could. She wasn't able to stop for a long, long time.