As distasteful as drinking blood was, I had begun craving his. Probably why the fresh blood bags they’d delivered at first light still lay right next to the door. I wasn’t touching them. I didn’t even like how they smelled.
The racket outside increased in volume until it seemed the pound right through my body, splintering any focus I tried to rebuild. Glaring at the door, I waited. This was a departure in my routine.
After three weeks of staring at walls punctuated by nightly screaming and the regular visits of the warden for some bouts of fucking and feeding, this stood out.
The clanging stopped abruptly a split-second before the metal of my door screeched a complaint when it was hauled open. It didn’t open inward, no, that would allow me to block it. It swung out, so they could also barricade me in.
A guard filled the doorway. Well, maybe it was a guard. He was dressed in a heavy black uniform with tight leather breeches that were doing fabulous things for his thighs. His ferocious expression betrayed nothing.
Dude had mastered resting dick face.
Awesome.
The piercing frost of his almost silver eyes bored right through me. “Fiona MacRieve?”
Rolling my shoulders back, I gave him a bored look. “Depends.”
“On what?” he barked in a growly voice, something like shock creeping across his scruffed face. The straight edged nose above his very full lips added to the overall appeal. He didn’t belong in this dark, dank place. The flickering light from the sconces played over his face and warmed him a fraction.
Course, that could just be a trick of the light.
He took a single step inside, but I didn’t respond. Instead, I just watched him. The sudden shift in routine offered me an opportunity. The question was what kind opportunity.
“Answer the question, woman,” he growled, then his nostrils flared as he studied me. Another deep inhale, and he frowned even deeper.
One moment, he was at the door, and the next, he was in front of me. The flash of movement so swift, I didn’t have time to escape before he hauled me up by the arms. “Are you Fiona MacRieve?”
“Well, like I said,” I drawled slowly. “That depends on who’s asking.” Poor fool. This close, I could taste the desire and lust simmering under his fierce exterior. The ice in those eyes cloaked a much deeper fire. The male reminded me of the warden in some ways. Rich, powerful, and intoxicating in his wantonness—funnily enough, it wasn’t my body pulling at him at the moment. The lust wasn’t physical.
But it was primal.
I could work with that.
Ignoring his bruising grip on my arms, I lifted a hand to test the roughness of his face. “Who are you, sugar?”
His nostrils flared even as his pupils expanded then constricted to pinpricks. That was also different.
And not in a good way.
“Yes, you’re her,” he answered his own question instead of mine. When he thrust his face at my throat, I slammed my knee up between his very sexy thighs. Those gorgeous leather breeches really did him justice.
Unfortunately—for him anyway—he wasn’t wearing a cup. Across nearly all creatures shadowy and otherwise, the male of the species was very vulnerable to attacks on their genitals, provoked or not.
Though, arguably, if someone slammed their leg up against my pussy like that, I would be in similar pain. His grimace at the blow promised me I’d landed it true, but he didn’t release me.
I repeated the gesture, and this time, I slammed my head forward at the same time. That beautiful nose I’d been admiring crunched gorgeously, and his pained gasp accompanied the sudden release of my arms. As he swayed, I shoved him backward. The head butting left me seeing stars, but I’d stumbled out of plenty of bars drunk off my ass riding the lustful wave of humanity, I didn’t need to see clearly to move.
Once out in the hall, I swung my gaze left and then right. Fantastic, it was all rough-hewn stone, and both directions looked exactly the same.
Fine, I went right.
I passed by other iron doors, locked and barricaded. I didn’t bother to try them. They opened out. The door to get out of here would open also open out, but I would be on the inside of it.
Jogging, I thrilled to the fact Dorran had fed me so well, even if he’d left me sore and achy in all the right ways. But I was full, and I had strength. The hallway seemed to elongate or stretch on to infinity. There were no bends or curves.
That wasn’t good. If I couldn’t find a corner to turn soon, there was every chance my surprise visitor would catch me up. He definitely had fit and virile going on for him, even if I’d left him breathless and cupping his nuts like a little bitch.
Served him right.
I’d barely found the door I could push outward when the scuff of a step on stone reached my ears.
Dammit.
Risking a magical shock, I shoved the door open. The racket clanged up the hallway. The volume jolted me.
All the doors I’d passed…
Dick boy—fine, man—had opened every door along the hall on his way to me. That explained the clanging racket. Not good. No one had stopped him, that meant the guard had either been dispatched down here to fetch me for something nefarious or more likely to just kill me.
Stumbling out into a stairwell, I growled to myself. The door slammed shut behind me with tremendous force. Yeah, no one would miss the gong of that.
Up?
Down?
Damn good question.
The obvious answer would be up, because I’d been in the pit, right? No windows, sealed inside a stone coffin that just happened to be room-sized. I didn’t have time to debate this in a committee of me, myself, and I. I flipped a mental coin.
Fine.
Down it was.
If up was the obvious answer, then down would be the correct route.
Descending the stone steps, I kept close to the wall. The smell of musk grew stronger the lower I went. Wet animals. Maybe dog.
Wolf.
Ugh.
Howling echoed behind the first set of doors I reached. Yeah, not opening the door to find the big, oversized floofballs who wanted to rip out my throat. Last time I checked, vamps and wolves weren’t exactly kissing cousins.
More like spitting, snarling, and teeth gnashing. Though my bestie had been a wolf. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard about the latest and greatest. It’d be a real bitch to have to throw down with Elias.
Man could make a smoked brisket better than anyone I’d ever known, and I’d be really pissed if I never got invited over for dinner anymore. Continuing the downward trajectory, I listened for the raucous noise of the door opening above. Hopefully, when dick man got there, he’d go up.
Up made sense.
Why the fuck had I thought going down made more sense?
It was three more flights before I found another door of any kind. Was I about to knock on Hell’s back door?
Like the door from my floor to the stairwell, this one opened away from the hall. I extended a hand to test the magical protections. I was on the outside, so they should be geared toward keeping stuff in, not out?
Then again, I went down—look, it seemed reasonable at the time, and I might still be a little drunk on Dorran—so what did I know?
Energy licked against my fingers, and the vaguest of hums touched my ears. Dammit. Definitely warded. Warded to what? Give a sweet tickle, or blow someone’s head off?
Last I checked, those spells were actually in the same category. Don’t look at me like that, succubus here, not a witch. They do some messed up stuff.