"D...d...die," I cried out.
"Shit, well, yeah, that's a deterrent," he said, moving away, ignoring my screams as he paced. "What if I give you something?" he asked, though I was pretty sure he wasn't actually talking to me since all I could do was writhe and cry. "If I could cut the pain, so you don't go crazy from it, maybe the spell will snap eventually. Seems worth a shot, yeah?" he asked, moving back over by me as my hands went up into my hair, yanking.
"Okay, we can't have you hurting your fucking self," he grumbled. Actual sympathy didn't seem like a trait of his, but he clearly cared in some way or another about me not ripping all my hair out, because the next thing I knew, there were tearing sounds, like clothes being ripped, and material slipped around my wrists, binding them. "That should help. I have to go," he told me, stroking some of my sweaty hair behind my ear. "But I'll bring something back to help," he added.
And then he was gone.
No real words of comfort, but a promise to make it better.
Which was good.
Because the only better I was seeing right then was something solid to slam my head against to end me.
There was no logic to intolerable pain.
Your body wasn't built to endure it.
Pain like this was supposed to come for only a split second before death.
Blood filled my mouth, making me realize I'd hurt my throat like the last time. Gurgling noises mixed with the attempted screams, making me choke and spit as I tried to force my legs to fold up under me, giving me some stability as I moved closer to what seemed like earth-packed walls. Hard. They were hard. That was all that mattered. That was all I needed.
I looked like I was straight out of some body-horror movie then as I slammed my own head against that wall over and over and over.
Until, finally, there was nothing but blackness.
I wasn't sure how long I was out, but consciousness came back to me slowly, then all at once.
But it was not normal.
Something felt weird.
I felt weird.
Swimmy and detached, like I was under water, like all my movements were in slow motion. My thoughts were too.
But, and this was the first real thought that swam to me after my eyes opened, there was no pain.
"What?" I asked, head bobbing as I looked around the dark space.
"Drugs," was the response I got as there was a sudden flare as a cigarette lighter danced for a moment before being snuffed out again. "Don't ask what kinds and how much, 'cause, I don't think you want to know. Quite frankly, dunno how you're still alive with all of 'em in your system," he told me.
That explained the detachment and the slowness. And the lack of pain.
I guess his idea had been right.
If he could numb me enough, the pain from the enthrallment being stretched would disappear.
But for how long?
And could my body continue to endure the drugs?
Would I need them forever?
Would that be any kind of life at all?
"It won't be good for forever," my kidnapper, or savior, or both, declared. "Gonna have to figure out this thrall shit," he added. "Been here a long time. Don't know as much about the bloodsuckers as I should."
"W..what are..." I started, finding my tongue a little fat and unresponsive in my mouth.
"Demon. Classic kind. Lived in hell. Liked stabbing things into people. Fire and brimstone shit," he said. I must have stiffened, but I felt too disconnected from my body to know for sure, but he went on. "I don't kill humans," he told me. "Or drink their blood. In fact, the only use I have for your race is whiskey making and fucking. But I don't take what isn't offered either. Unlike that wrinkly-balled fuck."
A choked sound escape me, a pathetic imitation of a laugh, but the sound made the demon let out a little chuckle too. And, damn, if it wasn't a good sound. Low and deep and rumbling. Sexy. If a laugh could be sexy.
"N...name," I slobbered out. Like, I was pretty sure there might have been some actual drool because my mouth felt so big and hard to close.
"Drex," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You got a name?" he asked. "If that mouth is working well enough to say anything."
"No..No..Va."
"Nonova?" he asked.
"No...va," I tried again.
"Nova. That makes more sense. Well, Nova, you're lucky I got back when I did. You weren't far from choking to death on your own blood. Gotta keep you from hurting yourself. You don't seem to have any blood to spare."
"Anem..." I started, trailing off. That was a harder word to say than I realized.
"Anemic," he finished for me. "Yeah, figured. What with seeing through your skin and all. Gotta force feed you some liver or something," he added, snuffing out his cigarette. "Alright. I got to go. I need to look into this thrall shit for a bit. I'll be back in the morning. You should need another dose by then. Try not to bang your head into shit while I'm gone."
He was gone without another word.
Warm and fuzzy, he was not.
But he was keeping me alive.
He was keeping me out of pain.
And he was trying to find a way to keep me away from the vampires.
Some girls got charming white knights on mighty steeds.
I got a rough around the edges demon on a motorcycle.
I guess beggars couldn't be choosers.
Chapter Four
Drex
I was officially out of my motherfucking mind.
That was the only possible explanation for stealing a vampire thrall, keeping her hostage, and feeding her a drug cocktail that should have killed an elephant just to stop her screaming pain.
I made my way back out of the root cellar with heavy feet, stopping to lean against a nearby tree to try to get my head together.
The root cellar had been a spur-of-the-moment decision when she'd been writhing in pain on the bike. She wasn't going to hang on for long, so I had to get her somewhere. And get her somewhere that her screams couldn't be heard by others.
Basements were great for that sort of shit. But I couldn't exactly bring her back to the house. Ace would have her shipped off to the vampires in a matter of minutes.
Hell, I'd be lucky if he didn't ship me with her to be punished for my crimes.
So, yeah, the house was out.
It was lucky that Ace was a put down roots sort of leader, because he had us in the same area for what had to be a good hundred or so years. Which meant I'd seen the whole landscape build up around us. Humans and their hideous subdivisions. But there had been a patch of land that the local government had chosen to preserve. And it just so happened to be an area that was once a farm. There was a cabin and a root cellar and all that shit.
The root cellar wasn't as good as a basement, but it would do.
Well, the human might not think so when the sun came up and she saw all the creepy crawling shit all over the place, but she was so fucking drugged out that I wasn't sure she would even care.
But, yeah, back to my head. And it being fucked and all.
I couldn't begin to understand what was going on with me. I didn't start possible wars between my crew and other creatures. Over one pesky human.
It made no fucking sense.