The hot rage turned cold. Every little thing he learned just made him want to kill this asshole more. But now…now he wanted to make him suffer while he died. He’d put his hands on what was not his.
“You should stop growling so much,” she commented in that low, sex-drenched voice. “It’s very unattractive.”
Maddox snorted. He didn’t need any of his senses to confirm the mistruth. “Liar.”
She glanced over her shoulder as she worked water down her arms, sluicing away any last minute traces of the blood—and his saliva. Still, Maddox sat up and didn’t move to interfere.
The show was definitely worth it, and if she managed to rinse herself of that stench, it would be much better for both of them. He didn’t need to be battling with his urges to erase it himself, and it would settle his beast. His vampire had given up trying.
Not many understood the clear lines of distinction he experienced with his aspects. It was a delicate balance, one he’d maintained for centuries.
Until today.
The hellion utterly ignoring him as she bathed from the sink captivated him in a way he’d never experienced. Instead of plotting their way out, he debated the different ways he could lure her back over to the bed. Dominating her was definitely one way, but she had too much fight in her to submit to him yet.
Begging wasn’t an option.
He would never take without permission, no matter how badly he wanted her. Even aware she’d stripped for the sole purpose of punishing him wouldn’t make him breach that inviolable wall.
He murdered men who did that.
No, Maddox had only one choice. He would have to seduce her and earn her trust. Then convince her she wanted to submit to him. That she wanted him to claim her. It would be much sweeter for both of them that way.
He was a hunter, and he’d never failed to get his prey. They couldn’t hide her deep enough in this dungeon turned prison to escape him. He could be patient.
It would have been nice to know before the shackles, though.
His beast settled, and his vampire surged, even as the man took his place at the peak of the pyramid. Once they had the nature of the hunt, nothing stopped them.
“You’re smiling,” Fiona said, half-turned and revealing the spectacular curve of her breasts. They were crowned with strawberry shaded nipples that made him hungry for summer.
“I’m enjoying the view, Kitten,” he told her honestly.
She rolled her eyes and turned away, leaving him with her glorious ass on display and the occasional glimpse of pink lips when she bent over. Yes, he had the taste of this hunt, and while she might think she was denying him, he would lap up every single moment.
Where are you? Fin’s voice pinged against him.
It was about damn time. In Hell with a nymph. Where the fuck are you?
Where I’m supposed to be. Why haven’t you rendezvoused? The guards are everywhere, and they’re about to let out the warden’s corspesnare.
That could be bad.
Course, it also meant they’d just have to stay in this cell.
Are you safe?
His only response was a mental snort followed by Do you have her?
Not quite yet. Yes.
We’ll adjust the plan.
They were going to have to.
“You’re still smiling,” Fiona challenged as she faced him a split-second before she pulled her top back on. The color didn’t suit her in the least, and yet, she turned the drab fabric into something glorious because it touched her skin.
“We might be here a while,” he said as he rose and then sprawled on the cot, stretching out. He’d slept on stone that was more comfortable. Even with his eyelids half-lowered, he didn’t miss her stepping into her pants and pulling them up.
No panties.
At all.
He approved.
“So you’re just going to nap?”
He patted the cot next to him. “Plenty of room, you can sleep on me if you like.”
“Generous,” she deadpanned.
“I can be.”
Arms folded, she glanced from him to the door. “Some rescue plan.”
“Not done yet, Kitten. Now sheathe your claws and come give us a cuddle.”
She flipped him off and moved to the far corner where she sat down with her back to the wall and her eyes half-closed.
Eh, it was worth a try.
Maddox? Fin reached out.
Hmm?
Is it true? Hope and anticipation curled in Fin’s mental voice.
Was she a hybrid like them?
Yes. He confirmed. She’s ours.
Fin didn’t respond in words, but the enormous satisfaction swelling through the connection made Maddox smile again.
“Keep smiling over there, hot stuff. You’re still in a cell.”
“I know,” he answered. “You’re still with me.”
“Yay.” The single dry syllable enticed him to laugh all over again.
She didn’t like him.
But she also didn’t know him.
Not yet.
Chapter 4
“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.” - Unknown
Twelve or so hours after the male interrupted my mental building, I finally managed to get the house’s construction perfect. The bluff it would sit upon was somewhere along the California coast. It would make for spectacular sunsets in the evening over the water. The deck above would allow me to greet the sun in the mornings.
I really missed the sun. Weird to think about the things you lose. No, not because of that idiot vampire, but because I’d landed up here, consigned to the Nightmare Penitentiary for the crime of fucking up someone’s idea of what was natural.
Hybrids couldn’t possibly exist. On that note, I agreed with them. I wasn’t a vampire. I’d died—theoretically—then come woken up to whatever these physiological changes were I’d undergone. The transformation left me exhausted, starving, and really, really irritated.
How had Elias described me once?
Oh, right, Psychotic Monster Syndrome.
The humming leftover buzz—what little of it remained from Dorran’s visit—had waned. The lightheadedness began with the blood pouring out of my wounded wrists. Before my latest captor decided to get all finger, wrist, and hand licking good with cleaning me up. The fact the wounds closed explained the shivers of awareness rippling through my system, and it had nothing at all to do with the intensity in his eyes as he worked to repair what his nasty little toys had done.
Nothing at all.
The torches had gone out in the corners. If this level were like my own, then night had fallen. The time for Dorran’s potential visit approached. Only there would be no visit because I wasn’t on my level—probably not even then. It hadn’t been a full twenty-four hours since his last call. He rarely came two nights in a row. In the beginning? Yes. Not anymore.
I’d been well fed.
Emphasis on the past tense.
The blood loss also explained the electric need to roll around in the lust roiling off the snarl-monkey currently sprawled on the bed like some over-sized lazy ass cat, expanding to take up all the room.
I eyed him, then the door. He’d done something to it, but I hadn’t tested it—yet. Not as long as sentinels shuffled in the hall. It had been a few hours, though. Maybe they’d moved on.