A hush of breath was my only warning before powerful hands seized me, hauled me backward, and slammed me against the wall.
“Oh,” I drawled after I caught my breath again. Having it all knocked out of me was a point in my favor. Fucking vampires didn’t need to breathe. I did.
Score one for me. Take that you twisted fucks.
Still, I stared up at the now bloodied face of my erstwhile visitor and his very, excuse me, extremely pissed off face. Resting dick face had taken active to a whole new level.
“You are a pain in the ass,” he snarled.
“Look who’s talking, jackass,” I retorted. “I was minding my own business in that cell when you got all handsy.” For evidence I glanced at those huge paws he called hands currently pinning me to the wall. In fact, most of him was pinning me to the wall, and it was hot.
His lustful fragrance swarmed me, and I wanted to take hits off of it. I might need the extra boost, but I didn’t need to go into a stupor, so I kept it to the mouth breathing.
For. The. Moment.
“Why do you smell like a man?”
“Because you’re a little whacked. Trust me, no penis here. Currrently.”
I smirked at my response.
“Need to check?” I widened my stance a little. It took some wiggling, but it ground me against him and the now very thick evidence of his penis. “I can feel yours, seems only fair you check out mine or the lack thereof.”
His growl vibrated right through me, and fuck, that felt good. Okay, first, I didn’t need to feed, so stop it. Second, growling boy might want to eat me and not even in a nice way, so focus.
Tilting my head to the side, I considered licking him just to see what he would do.
Could be fun.
Might get me killed.
Both were definitely more than I had to do an hour ago.
“Also, kudos for the erection, man. I was pretty sure two slams of my knee would have knocked your balls into your throat.”
Poor baby was not amused.
“Who touched you?” Each word came out on a spikey, near guttural sound, swallowing the vowels.
Kind of sexy in a primitive caveman way.
“At the moment, hot stuff, that would be you.”
He shook me once. This close to the wall, it only served to knock my skull against the stone. Great, the stars I’d still been seeing since earlier now had do-si-do partners to dance with.
“Who fucked you?”
Oh.
That.
“Do you really want to know?” I asked, more curious than anything for his response.
“Yes,” he rasped.
“Let’s see—that would be ‘none’ and ‘of’ along side ‘your fucking’ and wait for it, ‘business.’”
His brows pulled together. “You’ll tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”
“Yeah, okay, this isn’t entertaining anymore. We need to communicate in more than grunts.” When he pushed his hips at me again, I debated his reaction if I slammed my knee up once more. He was pretty hard. “Thanks for the offer, by the way, I’m not hungry.”
A puzzled look crossed his face for a split second, then he did something utterly unexpected.
He laughed. What the fuck?
Before I could verbalize the question, he closed his exceptionally large hand around my throat. While he didn’t squeeze, the strength there couldn’t be denied. “I wasn’t offering you my blood, Fiona,” he told me.
“I didn’t think you were, since it’s all in your cock,” I countered.
He snorted. “Thank you for confirming you’re Fiona.”
“Discussing your dick does not make me Fiona.”
Frustration filled his eyes. “Why are you being difficult?”
Was he for real?
“Um…look around,” I pointed out. “What do you see?”
“You descending to the darkest parts of the penitentiary, where even the most dangerous hunters would be loathe to go.”
“Cool, you run along then.” Dammit, I knew I should have gone up.
He let out aggrieved sigh. “Not without you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m here to rescue you.”
Rescue. Me.
“Why the fuck didn’t you say that upstairs instead of getting all monosyllabic and snarly?”
“Because you smell like another man, he’s been all over you.” He tilted my head to the side and then stroked his thumb over my throat. Told you Dorran liked to mark me. “He’s done it recently, too. Are you sure you won’t tell me who?”
“Nope,” I said. “I don’t fuck and tell. Rules of the game.”
Not really, but I didn’t know this guy, and rescue or not, I was not in the mood for this crap.
His lips compressed into a thin line, and he dropped his hand from my throat. When he backed up a single step and gave me room to breathe, I narrowed my eyes. That was an unexpected twist. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a pair of shackles, and I glared at him.
“No.” I was not going in chains.
“You have to,” he said. “I’m a guard. I can get you out if I escort you. But prisoners are not allowed to roam freely.”
“No.” I folded my arms. I was not going to put those on willing.
“I will take them off, Fiona. I promise.” The growl underscoring each syllable didn’t inspire confidence. Besides…
“I don’t even know you, why would your promise mean shit to me?”
“My name is Maddox.” He intoned it so formally, like I would recognize him by the moniker alone. Was it like Madonna or Cher? If so, ‘fraid it was lost on me. “I’m here to see you to safety.”
“Define safety,” I challenged. “And why I should believe you just because of your name, which for the record, doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Surprise crystalized in his expression edged by real frustration.
Yeah, I had a gift.
“Woman, I don’t care if you believe me. I’ll carry you out of here kicking and screaming. I can knock you out if I have to.” He dragged my arm out and slammed one of the shackles on. It burned as it snapped around my wrist. “I’m rescuing you whether you want to go or not.”
Why the fuck would I not want to go?
I just wanted to know whether I was going somewhere better or not.
He wrestled me into the second shackle, and I let out a frustrated scream as it closed on my free wrist. They were spelled. The magic in them burned where they rested against my flesh. Dick face—Maddox—stared down as my skin began to blister and smoke.
“That should not be happening.”
Oh.
That was it.
This guy?
I was killing him first.
Shackled wrists and all, I clenched my fists together and struck both at his bloody nose.
If I didn’t break it the first time, I was damn well going to break it now. Unfortunately, he caught the slender chain locking my wrists together and hauled my arms up to slam them against the wall before he boxed me against it again.
“Stop fighting me,” he ordered. “The shackles have a spell.”
“No shit.”
“The spell is to help us get you out.”
Us.
Wait.
Gritting my teeth against the blistering sensation crawling over my skin and scalding it, I asked, “Who’s us?”