“So you see why I called you here. I wish to explore alternatives to our arrangement.”
Fuck. “There’s only one thing I want.” And if Frangelico can’t give it to me, I don’t know how I’m going to get it.
“Surely there’s something else you want. Or, perhaps, someone.”
The redhead. The image of her pops into my head before I can squelch it. The sweet freckled face greeting me when I come home, angling up for a kiss.
I force the fantasy away. “No. Nothing. I told you in the beginning. It’s all or nothing.” My course was set long ago.
A woman shrieks. I stiffen, but don’t turn. I don’t like that sounds of people’s pain have become routine. Then the auburn color catches my eye and I whirl.
Benny has the redhead-my redhead-strung up on a rope dangling from the ceiling. He’s painting her back with a heavy flogger, each snap of the leather leaving marks. She’s naked, dancing on tiptoes, twisting away from the blows. The leather strands wrap around her hip and flick her breasts. She screams and I hear fear in the pitch, not the lower notes of pleasure.
Before I know it, I’m across the room and in the vampire’s face. The flogger’s on the floor between us, in two pieces.
Benedict registers surprise before stuffing it down and sneering at me. He turns back to the trembling redhead, and I clamp a hand on his arm.
“No. You don’t get to hurt her.”
“I have permission,” he snarls. I snarl back and he blurs away, ending up across the club. Fucking coward.
I turn back to the redhead only to find another vampire has taken Benny’s place. A tall, patrician-faced vampire who was giving the redhead orders earlier. There’s no sign of his male sub.
“What is the meaning of this?” he barks, looking down his nose at me, even though I’m almost his height. “Benedict had my permission.”
“Show’s over. Cut her down. She’s done.”
“She’s mine, and I’ll say when she’s done.” The vampire takes a step towards a table full of implements and I block him.
“Call off your dog,” he says to the king.
Frangelico raises a brow. You don’t give orders to the king.
“I’m not a dog,” I growl. “I’m a bear.” My grizzly’s about to burst from my skin and brawl in the middle of the club. We’ll see how sturdy the furniture actually is.
“Augustine,” Frangelico drawls with mild disapproval. I tense up. I’ve never seen him before, but I know Augustine is one of Frangelico’s lieutenants. “You know as well as I, I do not give him orders. Which is why I hired him. He’s here to make sure you’re following the rules.” And with that, the vampire king turns away, effectively dismissing us.
Augustine’s lip curves up, showing a fang. “I didn’t break the rules.”
“You loaned your girl out to a vampire who was hurting her.” Beside us, the redhead slowly spins from the rope noose around her wrists. Fuck, is that good for her circulation? Welts mar her skin, as numerous as her freckles. Some of them even show spots of blood. Benny really worked her over.
“If she wanted to stop, she’d safe out.” The vampire motions impatiently, and a waiter offers him a drink. Augustine drinks greedily, wiping water from his lips. He doesn’t offer any to his punished submissive.
The redhead is limp, her eyes half closed. I peer into her face, gently raise an eyelid to check her blown pupils. “She’s too far gone to give a safe word.” I may not be into this stuff, but I know how endorphins work. Load after load drops until the submissive is too drugged to even speak.
“She likes it.” The vampire goes to a table and picks up a riding crop. I step between him and the redhead. Between the vampire and his prey. It’s probably the first time anyone’s told this vampire no.
Augustine looks shocked. It’s a good look for him.
“I said stop.”
“Very well. It’s time to eat, anyway.” With a flick of his fingers, he orders another club servant to come forward and loosen the rope around the young woman’s wrists.
She slumps, a cascade of red hair falling over her freckled face. Her head rolls on her neck. She’s totally blissed out from endorphins. Another sweetblood. A submissive, willing vampire victim.
It’s not my business. I shouldn’t get involved. But the redhead’s lips part and she turns toward me and I catch her scent…
And suddenly I know why she caught my interest.
I lean forward. This one is a shifter. Not a wolf or bear, but something close. Fox, maybe. That would match her red hair. I glance between her thighs. She’s mostly shaved but for a small groomed patch. Natural redhead. Definitely a fox.
How did I not notice her animal before? Probably because it’s shy, submissive. Plus all the cloying smells of vampires in the club. Prey animals don’t make themselves known like dominant ones. And this one is sweet as can be. My bear is fighting to burst forth and carry her off to a safe, dark place where he can protect her.
My instincts war a moment. But I have to remember why I’m here. I swallow and step back and act disinterested. A bouncer more concerned with the club’s reputation than protecting a willing sweetblood. “Frangelico know you’re feasting on a shifter?”
“She belongs to me.”
“Shifters don’t belong to vampires.”
“Says the king’s guard bear.”
Technically the vampire king and I have a partnership, but I don’t correct the vampire.