"Good evening, My Lady."

"What a lovely dress, Duchess."

"It's a wonderful ball, Your Grace."

I hold a gentle and polite, yet vague smile fixed on my face as the attendees greet me one after another. I know they're only here because the imperials will be attending. No one visits the castle of the 'Midnight Duke' otherwise. They're all too scared of his reputation.

"Aaa-" I hear a woman's voice start to shriek, but it's quickly cut short. A glance reveals that a man - her husband, presumably - covered her mouth. Her gaze is still fixed on the object of her terror, and I don't even have to look to know that she's staring at my husband.

I turn toward the grand staircase. Grand Duke Aleckis Inverren is, as always, a terrifying figure to behold - broad-shouldered and tall, with long hair and a near-permanent scowl on a face with too many scars for the so-called 'polite society' of the nobles - but after five years of marriage, I'm no longer intimidated by his appearance. Instead, I smile broadly (by popular convention, a little too broadly, but whatever) and glide to the base of the stairs. I lift one side of my dress and place my other hand on my chest, inclining my head without bowing or curtsying. He is my husband, after all.

He descends the staircase and dips his head to me in return, offering me his escort. I take his arm with another smile, much more genuine than before. I always feel a little guilty to enjoy it, but watching the crowd of central nobles trembling with fear at the mere sight of him is just too amusing. I mean, he's never even attacked them or anything, but they know he's strong and that's enough to scare them.

The doors open again and the herald announces the entrance of His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress, alongside two of the princes and the eldest princess. We bow as is expected, and they greet us amicably despite that the Emperor is the reason for all of the negative rumors to begin with. (He doesn't like that Aleckis is more successful and has more honors to his name.) After the customary greetings and obligatory small talk have been fulfilled, the Emperor declares the start of the ball, and everyone scatters.

Having been estranged from high society since well before my marriage, I have no circle or clique to join up with, and am prepared to spend the entire ball as arm candy to soften my husband's impression. Before I can attach myself to him, however, I notice Princess Imelda standing alone, looking lost. I hesitate. Even so far removed from the gossip circles, I have still heard the rumors about her having social difficulties lately. I consider my options and decide that my husband can survive without me for a night.

Stepping forward, I say, "Lydia Inverren greets Her Highness Imelda." I bite the inside of my lip, unsure of what to say next. I've never done well with starting a conversation.

To my surprise, she lights up. "Good evening, Duchess. I don't believe we've had the chance to meet before. You host a wonderful ball."

I offer her a modest smile. "Thank you, Your Highness. I'm sure it's nothing compared to the capital; after all, there's so rarely such a large gathering here."

She tilts her head. "Does the duke not permit you to hold large functions?"

I'm still debating my answer when her face goes pale and I feel a large presence behind me. Turning, I find Aleckis standing there with three glasses of wine. I simply blink at him when he holds out two of them. "For your conversation," is all he says.

My next smile is so bright that his customary solemnity nearly breaks. "Thank you." He nods and steps away, and I return my attention to the princess. "It seems my husband wishes to offer us both refreshments. Will you drink with me, Your Highness?"

She's still staring toward him with fear in her expression. I simply wait. After a moment, her gaze slides back to me and she nods mutely. I pass her a glass, and she takes a longer drink than I would've expected. I restrain myself to a regular sip, bemused by my new acquaintance. Once she's settled herself, she leans in slightly and asks quietly, "How are you not terrified by him?"

I stare at her for a long moment. "Why should I be?"

"Well, he's -- he's the 'Midnight Duke', isn't he? The duke who can kill monsters with his bare hands, who rules his territory with an iron fist, who drove nearly all of the vassals and lower nobles out of his territory, who not even the Imperial family can easily offend? I mean, even looking at him is frightening, and his aura is so dark I feel like it sucks all of the light out of the room..."

I shake my head. "I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding. My husband is strong, yes, and has a powerful appearance and skills. Last I checked, though, he usually uses a sword on monsters, and our citizens have a standard of living higher than nearly anywhere else in the Empire." She's staring at me in disbelief. "He didn't drive off the vassals, either. Most left of their own accord after the recent monster surges. The rest were tired of living in the extreme cold with constant danger hanging over their heads, so he sent them elsewhere to rest."

She gapes at me. "That's -- then what about the rumors of servants beaten black and blue, or that he takes a new mistress each month, or that you're being held against your will? Surely such a terrifying man would be extremely uncomfortable to live with."

I sigh inwardly. I don't think she heard any of my rebuttals, so this time, I make certain my voice is easy to hear and my pronunciation is clear. "Let me tell you clearly. I do not fear my husband in the slightest. He may have his faults, but he has never abused me, neglected me, treated me poorly, allowed the servants to treat me poorly, nor even spoken harshly to me. The one and only time he prevented me from doing something was out of concern for my safety. He isn't the monster you think he is. He just doesn't want anyone hurt." My gaze is so intensely focused on her that for a moment I don't realize that the entire room has fallen silent.

I force myself not to blush as I wait for her response. "How do you have such faith in him to defend him so? Was your marriage a love match after all, despite all of the rumors?"

I really want to leave the conversation and all of the eyes on me, but I also know that if I run away from this now, I will never have another chance. "I will not claim to know what motivated His Grace to marry me. Nor will I claim our marriage to have been one of romance. I will, however, say this. I respect him. Not in the way of a subordinate to a lord, but from one human being to another. He is strong, he is kind, he is surprisingly gentle... and he is ruthless when threatened. I also hold great affection for him, love match or not." I lean in toward her. "I can say all of that with complete honesty. Can you?" I step away, knowing she can say none of the above in regards to her fiancé.

As I turn to leave, however, I find myself arrested by the expression in Aleckis' eyes. The intensity and vulnerability I see there cause me to blush and become painfully aware that I just told not only the princess, but rather the entire imperial court how much I care about him. His expression holds no rebuke, though, just pure pride.

As I approach him, I see that pride morph into something else, and shiver slightly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Tonight will be fun.

Bridget

The ride to Corolla beach, North Carolina, was quite quiet. I didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t say anything to me. We made sure there was a big distance between us.

I suppose I have a correction to make; for the first 45 minutes of the ride, nobody said anything, and the big space was established.

Within 45 minutes of the ride, I have a headache. I really bad headache. I tried rolling the window down a little bit, thinking fresh air might help, but it didn’t. I then developed a stomachache, which wasn’t even alleviated when the driver, Harvey, got me some ice cream per request of Lucien.

In fact, it only seemed to make me sicker. I seemed to be in want of something else that I could not figure out for the life of me. I never felt like this before.

I have this intense, insatiable craving that I cannot explain.

And for some damn reason, Lucien thinks it’s funny.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about this,” I snap at him when he gets that amused look on his face.

“Oh, it’s nothing, little human,” he says, then smirks at me. “Mind explaining exactly how you feel? I’m quite used to dealing with slave girls’ issues.”

“It’s inexplainable,” I say, then wince at the sharp pain in my gut.

“Try me,” he says back. “I have heard all sorts of things in all of the 467 years of my life.”

I gasp and look over at him in shock. “467?”

“Confirm my year of birth, little human.”

He wants me to do math right now?

“1556,” I murmur.

“Correct,” he says, adjusting the sleeves on his button up shirt. “Now, explain.”

“It’s like this intense craving for something...” I trail off. “My throat feels dry and it aches...”

Lucien’s head snaps over to me so quickly that I’m surprised that he didn’t break his neck in the process.

He narrows his eyes at me for a moment.

“To be honest, that’s a new one coming from a human,” he says, then takes in a breath. “But it’s an old one if you were a vampire.”

“Huh?”

“When vampires have a lack of blood, that’s usually how they feel. That insatiable desire that burns until you have your fill,” he explains, then gives me a strange look.

“If you’re thinking I’m a vampire, you’re nuts,” I affirm, and he just grins.

“Oh, sweetheart, I would know if you were,” he says, then drops the grin.

I roll my eyes and stare out the window again at the passing palm trees.

“We’re almost there right?”

“You talked my ear off for thirty minutes, so we only have 75 minutes left.”

Thank God.

Speaking doesn’t happen again until I see the North Carolina sign.

“Finally in the state,” I murmur, pulling on my shorts.

“You’ll have to come up with the story of how we met, because I don’t do that romance shit.”

I look over at him in surprise.

He isn’t even looking at me.

“Oh, I know,” I say. “You’re the type to take what you want and leave, never to be seen again.”

“That’s right, little human.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Would you rather me call you Bridget?”

“Bri would be fine.”

“News flash, I don’t give people what they want.”

“Noted.”

I replay the little conversation in mind again, then burst out laughing. Lucien finally looks over at me with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, clearly getting annoyed.

“You’re a trip,” I say, then go back to looking out the window.

Lucien gives me a glare that I can see through the window, and I hold back a smirk. I like getting on his nerves when he decides he isn’t going to be violent towards me.

“You do have a bathing suit on, correct?” he asks me, and I look over at him again.

“No, I do not,” I say, and Lucien rolls his eyes.

“Harvey, stop by a mall,” he says, and I hear Harvey’s gruff reply.

“Of course, Don,” he says, and at the tone he gives, I wonder if he likes Lucien. Preston had a bad impression of him, and I have to wonder what his own men think of him.

A few moments later, we’re pulling into a mall. I start getting excited for some reason, maybe the fact that my parents--no, wait, I forgot. Agent Rawling probably informed them that they wouldn’t ever see me again so there’s probably no missing person thing going around.

I sigh, and that causes Lucien to give me another look.

“I thought girls liked to shop,” he says.

“Most do,” I reply with a twinge of annoyance. “But then again, Lucien, I’m not most girls.”

“Noted,” he says, and that causes a smile to go across my face. He notices it, but his facial reaction doesn’t change in the least. But a warm feeling develops in the pit of my stomach, and I have this weird feeling in my head that this is not my feelings.

I shake it off, then get out of the car when the door is opened for me by Harvey.

“Thank you,” I say to him, and he looks completely shocked. What, does he not think I have manners? He hasn’t done anything wrong; in fact, he may have given me the opportunity to escape by driving Lucien and I the whole way out to North Carolina, then taking us to a mall.

“Bridget,” Lucien says, catching up with me as I push open the mall door. His arm slips around my waist and he holds me protectively to his side.

We go straight to the women’s department and he busies himself by looking at his cell phone, which I’m surprised he has since he’s 467 years old.

I look through some bikinis, wondering if I should flare Lucien’s lust or not. As I’m looking through some white ones, two teenage girls around the age of sixteen come up to me. I want to tell the chicks that they should keep their distance, that we have a teenager girl kidnapper to the left at about a distance of four feet, but I don’t. I don’t need to cause more trouble.

“Excuse me,” the light blonde one says. “Are you Bridget Wayne?”

Lucien’s head snaps up and he watches me.

“Yes,” I say after a moment’s thought. “You are...?”

“Oh, you don’t know me,” she says, then smiles. “But I know you’re a model and you’re Eliza and Dean Wayne’s daughter. Do you like modeling?”

“Yes,” I say, then give a genuine smile. “Are you thinking of pursuing it?”

“I am,” she says, then looks down at the floor.

“She’s a little nervous though,” her friend says. “Winter isn’t sure she’d make a good one.”

“You are?”

“Her sister, Summer,” she says. From what I can see, Summer would make a good model as well.

“Summer and Winter,” I say, then give a little laugh. “Your parents were pretty original.”

Summer shrugs.

“Say, how about you grab some clothes and then we’ll go to a dressing room and you can do some poses,” I say to Winter, and she brightens.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” I say, then look over at Lucien, who has this adorable look of admiration. It fades though when he sees me looking at him. “As long as my...boyfriend doesn’t mind. You don’t, do you?”

“No,” Lucien says, and when Winter and Summer hurry off to get some clothes he gives me a look. “You couldn’t think of anything better than boyfriend?”

“I could have introduced you as the guy who ruined my modeling career,” I say, fishing out a cute black bikini. I put it under my arm with the white one and go to the dressing room with Lucien a bit of the way behind me.

He doesn’t go in the dressing room, because he’s male.

“Your boyfriend is fucking hot,” Summer whispers to me. “How do you snag such a good looking guy?”

“Slid into my DM’s,” I lie, and Winter giggles.

“I hope that’s way it is with me,” she says. “Did you two like...meet up person and it was like, love at first sight.”

“You could say that,” I lie again, disgusted that I’m literally faking a relationship with Lucien.

“So romantic,” the sisters sigh, and I order Winter to go into the dressing room and put her stuff on.

When she comes out in a tight white tube top and black shorts, I give her a thumbs up.

“Now, from the photographers that I’ve had, they seem to like natural,” I say, then gesture at her hair. “Pull your ponytail out and run your fingers through your hair. Toss it up a little bit.”

Winter does as I ask and I can immediately see the modeling quality in her.

“Lift your chin,” I say, and she does. “Lean back slightly and move your left foot forward a tiny bit.”

I grin when she follows the order. “Nice, Winter. Summer, go up there with her and give me your cell phone for a picture. I know you have the same ability in you.”

Summer gets into a bit more than Winter, because she’s more confident of her body.

I change the photo lighting to soft and snap a picture of them.

I hand Summer her phone.

“Can we take a selfie?” Winter asks, and I stand in between the girls and give them my best smile.

“Do want tagged?” Summer asks.

“No,” I say, then smile. “You girls will make it, no matter what you decide to do.”

“Thanks!” Winter says, then her phone starts ringing. “Oh, that’s Mom. We’d better go.”

I nod, then go into the dressing room. I try on the white bikini, then the black. I think about it for a few more moments before deciding on the white.

As I put the black one back, I see Lucien watching me with that same look on his face.

“What?” I ask him, and he just shakes his head.

“Are you ready to go yet?”

“Yeah,” I say, then he takes me to the counter.

The cashier lady scans it and Lucien pays, then I grab the bag and we vanish back out to the car, where Harvey opens the door. I head inside and Lucien goes in the other side.

“Do me a favor and don’t order anyone to take those girls,” I say, and Lucien gives me a look of utter surprise.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, like he’s totally the most innocent guy on earth.

“Because you have a knack for doing it,” I say. “They’re not eighteen, and they have a big life ahead of them.”

“Whatever you want, Bridget,” he says quietly, and I look over at him.

“I thought you didn’t give people what they want,” I say, and his lips form a ghost smile.

“I don’t,” he says, then turns towards me. “But you’re not just any person, Bridget.”

“I don’t know what to think of you sometimes.”

“Keep trying to figure me out, little human.”

We are silent as Harvey begins moving the car again.

“For your information,” I say, catching his attention again. “We are very much faking it.”

Lucien gives a nod, but for some reason, deep down on the inside, I feel that he doesn’t want to fake it.

Bridget

I wake up with a delicious scent plastered on my nose. I breathe it in deeply, then sit up, looking around.

This is not the bed I was assigned to in the slave girls’ bedroom. Where am I?

Everything is so fancy and neat. There are bookshelves lined along the walls, and the sheets are made of pure silk, I can tell.

I slip out from under the covers and walk over to the door. I push it open, then peer curiously down the staircase.

I walk down it and go to open the other door when it’s suddenly thrown open and Lucien pushes me against the wall, shutting the door behind me.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I was in his room.

I mean, it shouldn’t surprise me considering he’s been practically stalking me the entire week that I’ve been here. He watches me cook, watches me serve, most likely stalks me on the camera when I’m in the library, and bothers me when I’m trying to sleep.

I wonder what he’d do if I pretended to pass out or something. It’s like he’s waiting for something to happen.

“Did you have a nice rest, little human?” he breathes against my ear. As much as I’d like to loathe him and ignore him, I can’t. My brain screams in rationality, wanting me to stay as far away as possible, but my body and heart yearn for him, crave him in this way that I can’t explain.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

“Can I go work?” I ask in a whisper for some reason I don’t know.

“Would you want to work if I told you that you didn’t have to?” he asks, watching my facial expression.

“Yes,” I answer quickly.

He chuckles before stepping back. “Inform the girls that there is a beach meeting happening today. Have them try on some different clothes. If some of the mistresses aren’t going, Sebastian and Alec will pick from them. Understood?”

I nod, and he opens the door, making me leave the area, which I will gladly do.

I hurry to the slave girls’ bedroom, where all the girls are, sitting on the floor, playing Uno with Marilyn.

“Hey,” I say quickly, coming over to them. “Lucien says that you guys should prepare for a beach meeting.”

The girls squeal.

“Are you sure?” Libby asks, standing up, her shoulder length brown hair uncombed and messy.

“Yeah,” I say, sinking down onto my mattress.

“What were you doing with the Don anyways?” Rosanna asks curiously and I shrug.

“I guess he put me in his bedroom because I don’t remember what happened after going to the library to read poetry.”

The girls shrug, and Marilyn begins laying clothes out. I sit and watch as the girls pick out stuff.

“Can I be of assistance?” I question, and they look at me. “I used to model, remember?”

“Oh, yeah!” Shelia says. “But you should put some stuff on too, because you might be able to go!”

“First, everyone knows that I’m not available for some fucking reason only known to Lucien, and second, what’s the point? Lucien is going to take Layla, not me.”

“Still,” Libby insists. “You’re the model here and I wouldn’t mind seeing a few outfits on you.”

“Fine,” I grumble, then go over the clothes. I select a black tube top, blue mid-thigh length jean shorts, and a white business suit jacket.

I disappear into the bathroom and come out, twirling around for them to see.

“You are definitely model material,” Libby giggles, and I select the yellow sundress for her. She puts it on, then comes out. I seat her on the bed, order Rosanna to wear the pink tank top and white shorts, Shelia to wear the blue off the shoulder shirt and black shorts, and then start combing through Libby’s hair. My hair looks great when I just roll out of bed, because it has that natural slight wavy look, and all I have to do is run my fingers through it to look nice. It’s a chocolate brown color.

I remember Eliza used to tell me I could pass for mint chocolate chip ice cream, with my chocolate brown hair and light green eyes and beautiful tan skin.

I use a curling iron to curl Libby’s golden hair, letting it lay in softly on her shoulders. I put the left half behind her back and push the right half forward.

When Rosanna comes out, I braid her hair, put it in a bun and pin it to the back of her head. I don’t have plans on going, or allowing myself to be picked, but these girls probably need a good day at the beach. If I am to go, however, I want Rosanna or Libby to go with me. No offense to Shelia, but she’s way too girly and gossipy for my likings. Rosanna likes to chill quietly and Libby and I get along because we have similar interests and feelings towards the creatures we’re stuck with.

I part Shelia’s hair down the middle when she comes out in her outfit and put two buns on top of her head. I pull little pieces of hair out on each side of her face.

“You could be the model and the make up/hair stylist,” Libby says as we all stand in the mirror, looking at ourselves. Marilyn has on a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt, her hair in a ponytail. She looks like a hot mom.

We all laugh amongst ourselves before the door opens and Carson reveals himself.

“Let’s go, ladies,” Carson says, and I stay behind as the others go up. Carson gives me a look. “You too.”

I shake my head in defiance and sit back down on my bed.

Carson shrugs and shuts the door, leading the other girls out. I fall back on my bed and stare at the underside of Libby’s bed that’s above me.

I’m always afraid I’d fall off the bunk bed, so I requested one on the bottom, and thankfully Libby didn’t mind taking a top one.

I need to figure out what’s going on between Lucien and I, because right now, I have control over the cloud that seems to fog my brain whenever I breathe in that delicious scent he carries on him. To be honest, and don’t call me weird, it kind of smells like a freshly baked boston cream pie, and it’s absolutely mouthwatering. It makes me want to eat him or something, but that’s a very far-fetched thing.

A few moments later, the door opens to reveal Carson once again.

“Don requests that you come to be seen as well,” he says without missing a beat.

“Why?” I ask blandly.

“Just listen for once in your damn life, Bridget,” Carson says, clearly aggravated. “I wouldn’t have had to come back if you had just listened earlier.”

I sigh and slip off the bed, running my fingers through my hair before following Carson.

As we go downstairs, I catch sight of Lucien’s piercing silver eyes, watching me come down the staircase.

When I come down, I see Libby is standing next to Sebastian and Marilyn is next to Alec. The other girls are just happy to be in regular clothes, sitting on the couch side by side.

“I’m taking you,” Lucien says to me, his eyes darkening as his eyes sweep down my body. “You...Miss Bridget...are a piece of art.”

“That I’ll say,” Sebastian says, then whistles. A quick hiss from Lucien silences Sebastian, but he gives Lucien a strange look, while Alec looks completely engrossed in Marilyn who looks very much the same with him.

I can see right through them. They are definitely in love.

Lucien slips an arm around my shoulders and tugs me towards the door with the two other couples following us.

“Don’t try anything stupid, Bridget,” Lucien mumbles as he pushes me inside a car that someone is driving. I recognize him as the man who sat on the right side of me and wanted to “taste” me.

Lucien climbs in beside me.

“To Corolla beach, North Carolina,” Lucien says, and then shuts the divider between the driver and us.

“Where are we?” I ask, and Lucien grins at me.

“We’re in Tennessee, darling,” he says, “so we have a long drive ahead of us. Don’t you just love being in close quarters with me for two and a half hours?”

My face pales and he grins.

“Oh, and Bridget,” he says, turning to look at me with those silver eyes. “This is by no means a beach date.”

“Oh, I know,” I murmur back, then stare out the window

Bridget

Alec leads me through all those halls again, right back to Lucien’s office. I wonder why we’re here. I didn’t exactly do anything wrong.

Alec taps on the office door.

“What is it now?” Lucien demands.

“Can I come speak to you for a few moments regarding our newest edition?”

“Whatever,” Lucien mumbles, and Alec positions me outside the door.

“Do not to anything stupid, Bri,” he says, and I wonder how he knew that I liked being called that.

I nod, because there’s some sort of a connection between Alec and I that I can’t put my finger on. No, not a love connection, a mutual connection, like I know him from sometime and somewhere in my life.

Alec disappears in the office.

I wonder if eavesdropping is considered stupid?

“What seems to be the issue, Alec?” Lucien asks.

“Don,” he sighs, then I hear him fall silent. “She’s already getting into fights with the mistresses.”

“I’m not surprised,” Lucien says, then chuckles.

“With Layla and Rowan,” Alec says, and the chuckling falls silent.

“What about?”

So he likes those two damn bitches. I wonder if they’re besties or something. Maybe they have an orgy together.

Nasty creatures.

“Well, I guess she was defending Shelia against Rowan, but with Layla, she was just flat out insulting her because Layla requested that she have a looser fitting uniform.”

“What’s wrong with the one she has on?”

IS HE DEFENDING ME?

“It’s a little tight around her breasts and butt, and it shows off more of her legs than the other girls’,” Alec explains, and Lucien chuckles again.

“How is that an issue?” he says. “I find it delicious.”

“Not to the mistress you’re bedding,” Alec answers mildly. Why the hell is Alec defending Layla? Are they secretly having sex?

Just when I thought I had respect for Alec...

Lucien sighs. “If you want honesty, Alec, I have no interest in any of the human slaves. If Layla is concerned about losing me, she should come to me herself and I will show her that she has not lost me to a petty human. Do I make myself clear?”

I sit comfortably on a chair next to the door as Layla and Rowan sashay past me right into Lucien’s office without asking.

“Don!” Rowan shrieks. “That bitch outside your office door ruined my clothes!”

There is no response from Lucien...until...

“What did you do to her?”

Wow...

“Nothing!” she states. “I was hassling out my conflict with Shelia in front of her and she stepped in.”

“Defending her own kind is likely an instinct,” he tells Rowan. “That’s not going to change. This is Bridget’s first day here. You cannot expect her to respect you when you’re abusing her kind in front of her face.”

“And so you think it’s okay that she was making me out to be a dumbass because I never made it to school?” Layla asks in disbelief.

“Call her in,” Lucien says, and Alec’s voice calls me into the office. I enter and timidly stand away from all the vampires whose eyes practically see right through my soul.

“Bridget,” Lucien begins, his silver eyes gliding up and down my body. They darken a little, but then he snaps out of it. “Did you push Rowan through a cleaning closet and insult Layla?”

“Yes,” I say flat out.

“She threatened to kill me too,” Rowan points out.

Lucien’s eyes become interested.

“Really?” he says, but not to anyone in particular. “Bridget, is that true?”

“Do you think it isn’t?”

Lucien gets up from his desk and goes over to a whiskey cabinet. He grabs a glass and pours himself some.

He then goes and stands and looks out his window, his back to all of us.

“All but Bridget leave, please,” he says, and everyone quickly leaves the room.

When the door clicks shut, my heart beat speeds up, detecting danger.

Lucien sips his whiskey, reminding me of earlier today.

“Must you be so frustrating?” he finally asks.

“Did you get over your anger kick?” I ask him, and he turns around and lifts a perfect eyebrow. “From earlier.”

“Now, Bridget,” he says, then sets the glass down. “I wasn’t ever angry with you.”

“Bullshit,” I say, and his eyebrows flash up in surprise for a second.

“How do you think I was angry?”

“You choked me out, almost.”

“I’m not angry with you.”

“You were.”

“You don’t know anything.”

I just shrug my shoulders.

“Bridget the Vampire Slayer?” he questions, his eyes unreadable as he says it.

“I thought it was catchy, sort of like Buffy.”

"Buffy?” he questions, clearly confused.

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” I say. “Was a television show for the longest time. I can tell you don’t watch television.”

“No, I don’t,” he says instantly. “But I don’t think you understand the gravity of the words you speak. You see, killing vampires isn’t funny.”

I go to speak but he holds up his hand.

“We all could have cared less about Preston’s life, he’s an asshole that nobody likes, but killing my cousin Lucas?”

“I didn’t--”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say, Bridget, you did it,” he says, his face filling with an unreadable emotion. Probably fury. “Insulting my mistresses, throwing them through cabinets and being rude to everyone is not going to fly around here.”

He closes the distance between us and I suck in my breath, waiting for him to do something to me.

“You are a slave,” he says, leaning closer to my face. “You--”

His voice stops short and he leans towards me a little more. He suddenly grabs my hair and yanks my head to the side, burying his face into my neck.

“Mmm...” comes out of him, and he wraps an arm around me, pulling me into his body. I feel something sharp graze over my neck and a bolt of desire runs down my spine as his fingertips tug on my hair a little more. “Your smell...”

I whimper as the sharp graze goes over my neck again. My body is excited though. I don’t know why, but heat flows throughout my body and my blood begins to rush faster, causing Lucien to pull me against him again.

His lips kiss my throbbing pulse.

A small moan comes from me, and my brain is screaming at me.

What the fuck are you doing Bri?

My whole face bursts into flames when I feel something hard pressing against my abdomen.

“Fuck,” Lucien hisses. He pulls back and stares at me with red eyes and fangs extended. I feel like if I wasn’t hazy with this weird lust I’d be afraid of him.

He reaches out and runs his fingers through my hair, letting it fall behind me in a gentle curtain. He touches my face, his slightly cool touch making my close my eyes as tingles spread over my face.

“You’re such a tease,” Lucien mumbles, his eyes still red.

I gaze up at him, and he stares down at me.

Our eyes connect, silver and green gaze at each other as Lucien suddenly starts getting closer to me again.

He dips his face into my neck again.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he mumbles against my skin. “But I’m quite thirsty for you right now...”

My head instinctively tilts to the side, allowing him access to my vein. Lucien takes advantage of it and sticks his teeth right into my neck.

A euphoric feeling takes over my body as tingles, sparks, and warmth spreads throughout my body before heading straight to my core. I feel wetness and a loud moan comes from me as Lucien begins sucking on my neck. I groan and run my fingers through his hair, tugging on it, encouraging him to drink from me.

Lucien’s free hand begins moving up my bare thigh, getting closer to my panties.

It’s then that my rational mind suddenly appears and I realize what’s happening.

“No,” I suddenly says, trying to push him off. “No! Get off me!”

Lucien suddenly pulls back and when I see my blood all over his lips, my food from this morning rushes up my esophagus and comes out my mouth.

Lucien rushes over to me and quickly licks my neck. I push him away, and he hisses at me.

I grow angry.

“What the fuck are you hissing at me for?” I yell. “You fucking bit me and was drinking my blood!”

“You let me!” he yells back. “You tilted your head and was fucking moaning!”

My chest heaves. “I wasn’t...there...”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?” he demands of me, grabbing my face. The tingles come again, and I feel the familiar cloud.

NO.

“Don’t touch me,” I say, batting his hands off my face.

“Get out!” he yells, pointing at the door. “GET OUT!”

I hurry out of the room, running towards the nearest bathroom so I can either cry or break something.

Bridget

I meet the head human slave girl, Marilyn, and she immediately goes about, digging out stuff that I could wear as a slave.

This is…different.

I was totally expecting to die, but perhaps Lucien has other plans for me…such as making me serve him.

“There are not a lot of rules around here,” Marilyn says, clearly having the role of being the human mother to all the girls here. “But I think a few of the most important is to never call the Don by his first name in front of him or any of his men. They will report you quite quickly and you will receive a punishment. And can you, as a human, imagine what a punishment from a vampire consists of?”

I shake my head and Marilyn gives me a kind look. “Don’t test them, little bug. I can tell you have a fire in your soul.”

I give her a small nod and she smiles.

“Don’t burn the vampires, but don’t let them put it out, either,” she says. “A few other rules would be to not disrespect the Don’s mistresses. Layla, the black hair with blue eyes, that’s his favorite and she gets away with everything.”

“Figures,” I say, then bite the inside of my cheek. “Marilyn?”

“Yes?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Twenty years,” she says. “I’m the oldest slave girl here.”

“Have you ever thought of…?”

“No,” she says instantly. “There is no way. You’d have to be here a long time to plan it out, and by then, all the vampires will know you by your scent. Once you even dare go through the woods, they’ll find you before you even reach the river. They are fast, strong, and unsatiable creatures, Bridget. Don’t, for the love of God, be stupid. You’ll die.”

I give a brisk nod before two girls come in.

“You!” a blonde points to me. “Get to the kitchen, now!”

Marilyn gives me a little encouraging push and I follow the bitch out into the kitchen.

“Clean the floor,” she says, pushing a broom into my hand. “The others will serve the vampires, then the mistresses, and then we shall eat.”

I give her a look.

“What?” she asks.

“Does it look like I’m hungry in any sort of a way?” I ask her, and she scowls at me.

“Attitudes don’t last long here, new girl,” she snaps back at me.

“You’re the one talking,” I say, and she grows angry.

“Don’t disrespect your own species!” she hisses at me. “What are you trying to do, die by my hands?”

“I’m nobody’s maid, darling,” I tell her, and she looks shocked for a moment, then laughs.

“Let’s see how long your insubordination lasts, girl,” she says, then goes to the stove and lifts a lid on a pot, letting out the smell of a roast. It makes my stomach nudge me a little bit, but I ignore it and continue to sweep the dirt up off the floor.

In a flash, a girl appears in the room, and begins to look around. I take her blindingly fast speed to mean that she’s a vampire.

Her blue eyes land on me and I notice she has raven black hair. She must be Layla, Lucien’s favorite.

“Who are you?” she barks out.

“Bridget,” I answer quietly, and she laughs lightly.

“Lucien always has a thing for human girls with older style names,” she notes, then examines me from head to foot, then scowls. “Rosanna!”

The girl who I was just arguing with turns around.

“Yes, Miss Layla?”

“Doesn’t Marilyn have a looser fitting uniform for Bridget? I don’t need her flaunting her assets around Lucien!”

I snort, then pull my laugh back into check. Both women look at me.

“Was there something funny about that, slave?” Layla hisses at me, her eyes turning red.

“No offense, Layla, but I could give a shit about your Don,” I say, and her face twists from anger to pure shock. “I’m not interested.”

Rosanna blinks in astonishment, while Layla studies me, debating her next move. I thought these creatures were supposed to be smart.

“You do understand that you’re at the lowest of low position here, right?” Layla asks, her voice no longer holding any venom. She sounds genuinely intrigued by me. I must be a new kind of human being to her. Someone who isn’t quite apt to follow orders from a creature that’s not my own.

“Of course,” I say quickly, plastering a fake smile on my face. Layla blinks again in surprise. I must be one damn thing after another to her.

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“You engaged the conversation by asking who I was,” I point out, setting the broom against the wall. I pull on the hem of the black skirt and adjust the dark blue top before letting out a breath.

“True,” Layla muses. “But after that, I stopped talking to you.”

“Last time I checked, I was on American soil,” I say, and Layla cocks her head to the side. I guess she is more stupid than she is anything else. Maybe that’s why Lucien likes her so much—he can do anything to her because she’s a literal dumbass.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that anyone on this soil has a right to use the United States Constitution as their grounds for human liberty,” I say, and she blinks again.

“Can you use English?”

“I am.”

Layla balls her hands into fists. “I didn’t go to school, bitch.”

“Oh,” I say, then smirk. “Well, that sounds like a personal problem. But what I mean is that I have a right to the freedom of speech, which is entailed in the first Amendment.”

Layla’s face drops of all emotion.

“You know what?” she hisses. “I don’t need education. I’m higher than you are, so don’t speak to me, and if you keep talking back to me, I’m going to report you to Lucien. Understand?”

“And what’s he going to do? Choke me again?” I stare right into her menacing blue eyes. “Fact check: I’m not afraid of death.”

Layla removes herself from the room in two seconds while Rosanna stares at me with her mouth open.

“You are one damn brave soul,” she says, then goes back to the pot, sprinkling paprika and red pepper flakes on it.

I pick up the broom and ignore Rosanna’s comment.

A few moments later, a brunette girl, who I can tell is human, comes in and starts loading food upon a food tray.

But that is quickly interrupted by a redheaded swoosh of air that knocks the girl across the room.

My reflexes go to spring to action, but I hold it in check.

What the hell just happened?

Rosanna continues stirring like nothing just happened.

“How dare you make a move on my man?” the redhead shrieks at the brunette, her pale skin shining white against the light of the ceiling. “What’s wrong with you? You’re human, bitch, human!”

The brunette whimpers something in reply, while my blood slowly begins to boil.

When she goes to smack the brunette across the face, my hand intercepts and I roughly push the redhead away, her body slamming back into the cabinet. She goes through the cabinet and cleaning supplies spill all over her body. My chest heaves in anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people!” I yell. “These are human girls! They cannot take this damn abuse! Where is the morality these days?!”

The redhead is so shocked that when Alec comes into the room, she is still standing there, covered in cleaning powder and various sprays.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he asks Rosanna, and Rosanna quickly informs him of everything.

Alec sighs and pinches his nose, then looks up at me. My green eyes meet his blue ones and for a moment, I see a look of awe cross his face before it vanishes and he looks between the redhead and the brunette.

“Rowan,” he says to the redhead. “Shelia didn’t make a move on Cody. He approached Sheila and took her during the slave break hour. Don’t blame Sheila.”

“She could have said no!” Rowan hisses, suddenly coming to life. She takes a step towards me and I give her a murderous glare.

“Careful, bitch,” I hiss at her. “I might turn into Bridget the Vampire Slayer again.”

Rowan takes a step back and then looks at Alec before storming from the room with powder falling out of her red hair.

“Bridget,” Alec says. “You come with me.”

Bridget

Every inch of Lucien is enough to make a girl throb.

He has dark hair, almost black. His brows curve over his eyes in a way that sort of makes him look sinister, but it makes him look attractive and desirable as well. He has long black eyelashes surrounding silver eyes, a straight nose, visible cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and perfect pink lips.

If I wasn’t a girl that had been abducted and bought by him, I would have fallen in love with him or at least requested a one-night stand.

“You may leave, Alec,” Lucien says, not even looking at me. He turns back around.

“Don—”

“Leave,” Lucien repeats his order.

Alec quickly reaches out and squeezes my shoulder, then turns and walks away, leaving me in a room with the devil himself.

A hot devil…

I let my eyes run down him while his back his turned.

His arms are enormous, probably as big as my thighs, or maybe even bigger since I don’t have thick thighs. He looks to be cut out of perfect god-like material.

He turns around so quickly that my eyes hurt from trying to follow his movements.

He sets his whiskey glass down and slowly approaches me, watching my facial reaction as he comes closer.

He doesn’t speak to me, but just stands two feet away from me, studying my face.

“I never believed in them…” he mutters, “until now.”

I don’t bother to ask him to elaborate, because to be honest, I’m not exactly paying attention to anything he’s saying. I’m more concerned about watching his bodily movements so I can react if he tries to kill me.

Unfortunately for me though, my human eyes cannot trace the speed of a vampire. He closes the space between us and lifts me up by neck so fast and I can’t process what just happened until my brain begins to notice the lack of oxygen.

But the strangest thing happened when our skin made contact.

Tingles spread out everywhere on my skin.

He drops me so quickly and so fast and it hurts when air comes back into my lungs. I moan in pain, and he does his lightning speed to get away from me. He stands back at the window and looks out it, still not speaking.

My body readjusts my breathing as my body recirculates the necessary oxygen throughout me.

“The irony is fucking pathetic,” he hisses to himself. “And the look factor is as well.”

I don’t speak, for fear something will slip out and he’ll try to kill me again. To be honest, I was kind of expecting to die, and I can’t believe disappointment literally set in when I didn’t die. I guess death to me is more livable than serving a vampire.

He sits down at his desk and picks up his glass of whiskey. He drains it in one swallow.

“The name is Bridget, isn’t it?” he asks, and I look up at him, right into his eyes.

He hisses at me, and I lower my eyes.

“Yeah,” I say tiredly, and the sound of a glass being set down hard makes me look up again.

“Yeah?” he repeats.

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” I say, exasperated and annoyed. “‘Yes, Your Highness?’”

“Not a bad idea,” he says, smirking, drawing his fingertips around the top of his glass. “Would be nice if people did that, but they don’t. Just Don or Boss, and the brave few who die for calling me by my first name.”

I stare at him. “The government—”

“I don’t give two fucks what humans call me, they are of no importance,” he states, then his silver eyes bore right into my light green ones. “You, however, are different.”

“I’m…human, the last time I checked,” I say, and he chuckles, still drawing his fingers around the top of the glass.

“You have balls, don’t you?”

“While speaking of that checking, I am female,” I reply, and he blankly stares at me.

“I’m not stupid, but maybe you are,” he says. “I was referring to you having guts. You realize that you were literally about to die a few moments ago?”

“If it meant not having to be here, then death is a great idea,” I say. “How can the plan be executed?”

“You are one interesting being,” he murmurs to himself, then comes around the side of the desk and bends down in front of me. “I am the Don, Bridget. I am the leader of both a coven and a very powerful mafia. You are playing with one dangerous fire.”

He hooks two fingers under my chin, and the contact immediately sends those tingles throughout my body again.

He stares at me for the longest time before getting back to his feet.

“Carson!” he calls out, and a man quickly comes to the door. “Take the new slave to her quarters.”

“Yes sir,” Carson says, then dips his head respectfully and drags me away from the Don.

Bridget

Thoughts begin flowing in my brain as consciousness comes back to me. As I look around, I notice I’m in one of those maximum security cells that hold psychotic murderers. Is that what they consider me?

I stare down at my hands, glad that they were humane enough not to cuff me to something. It’s not like I was going to blow my way out of a maximum security cell too.

A few moments later, the door opened and revealed Tegan, the guy who put me here. I literally have no trust in anyone except for my brothers at this point. Everyone has taken advantage of me and has more concern for the supernatural world than me, one of their own.

“Here’s something clothing for you,” he says. “Don’t worry, nobody can see you in here.”

I don’t even look at him.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he says gently. “But you made this mess that you’re in.”

“No, I didn’t,” I state coldly. “I didn’t ask someone to kidnap me.”

“No, you didn’t,” he agrees. “But you did kill two vampires.”

“And you wouldn’t?”

Tegan doesn’t answer me, just like I thought.

“Just get dressed,” he says, then walks out of the room. I hear the security lock click back into place and I let out a breath. I go over to the clothes and see that there is a pair of blue jeans and a white tank top. I pull off my stinky sweatpants and hoodie and pull the fresh clothes on.

I then go back to the bed and sit upon it, waiting for death. At least I look decent.

What feels like hours later, Tegan comes back in and gives me some food. A fruit salad and a protein shake, of which I eat, because I trust human’s making my food and not vampires.

Tegan reaches over and pats my brown head before gathering up my tray and leaving.

“When is he going to be here?” I ask, and Tegan gives me a sympathetic look.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Tell my brothers I love them,” I say, then lay down and stare at the wall.

“I will,” Tegan whispers, then leaves the room again.

I don’t know what exactly I did to deserve this. I didn’t do anything, as far as I’m concerned.

My life has not been at all hot.

My biological parents left me to other people, who are Brandon and Brendan’s biological parents. Their parents abandoned us in the woods somewhere when I was only six and the boys were five. I decided that as the older sibling that I should take charge and took upon the responsibility of seeing that my siblings were safe and taken care of.

I did everything with them, and we are so close. I can’t believe that yesterday morning I forgot to tell them good-bye before they went to school. I’ll never get to speak to them again, see them again, or tell them that I love them.

I failed them, didn’t I?

I mean, they have billionaires as parents now, but they will always look to me. Now that they don’t have me, they’re going to feel lost, since they always turned to me when they needed someone to trust in.

And I did the same to them.

I twist the corner of the bedspread, winding and unwinding it around my fingers until the cell suddenly unlocks and Lyle comes in without Tegan.

“Bridget,” he says, then comes over to me. “Time to get up, honey.”

“Time to die, is what you should say,” I say to him, and he sighs.

“I don’t think death is what Lucien has in mind for you,” he says.

“Don’t think, Lyle, it doesn’t do you any good.”

I turn around to see his confused expression.

“Let’s go,” he says, then gives me a hard look. “I’d hate to have to restrain you to get you there.”

I swing my feet to the floor and pull on the black boots given to me by Tegan.

Lyle escorts me to another meeting room, where a man with sunglasses waits, his skin pale and very muscular.

“Sebastian,” Lyle says smoothly, and the man turns around.

His face is rather blank, and he removes the sunglasses swiftly upon sighting me.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” he coos at me, then smirks. “I got it from here, Lyle.”

“First, I need to know something for the sake of humanity,” Lyle says.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows.

“Do you consider Bridget the treaty between us?”

“You mean compensation?”

“Yes.”

“We do,” Sebastian says, then breathes out. “As long as you let us take Bridget.”

“She is still a child,” Lyle says. “We are willing to let you take her on the terms that she will not be killed.”

“Excuse me?” Sebastian says. “Do you think we are that cruel?”

“N-no,” Lyle stutters. “I—”

“We will not kill her,” Sebastian says. “Lucien is the one who dictates who dies and who lives. She will be going to see him shortly after her arrival at our grounds. Does that make sense, Lyle?”

“Yes sir,” Lyle replies.

“Good,” Sebastian says. “Now leave the girl.”

Lyle squeezes my shoulder then walks off. Sebastian looks me up and down, then lifts my chin and stares right into my eyes.

“Damn,” he says, then laughs. “I wonder if Lucien believe in ghosts.”

The car ride to vampire grounds is silent. I’m sat between to large vampires who already made it clear that they had strict orders from Lucien to murder me if I tried anything. So much for Sebastian’s reassurance that I wouldn’t be killed until I saw Lucien.

“Dude,” the man on my right says, leaning up towards Sebastian, “are you sure we can’t have a taste? She has a damn sweet smell.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sebastian warns. “She’s for Lucien.”

“The fuck I’m for anyone,” are my first words in the past half hour. That causes heads to be turned in my direction before dark chuckling fills the van’s atmosphere.

“You’ll find out, chickadee,” says Sebastian from up front. “Just hope Alec is there with Lucien or you might die.”

I look down at the car floor and don’t say another word for the entire rest of the journey.

“Rise and shine!” someone calls out, shaking my shoulder. “You have a meeting!”

“With death,” I murmur, sunshine hitting my eyes. I bolt upright when I realize I’m laying in a vampire’s lap. The man chuckles.

“It was nice to have you all snuggly over my dick,” he says, and the whole van roars with laughter.

I burn red, and the man on my left quickly grabs my arm and pulls me out of the van.

Sebastian joins the man.

“You going to stay in there, Alec?” he asks, and I look up at Alec, noticing for the first time that he has light blue eyes and brown hair. He looks very human. I wonder if he is.

“Depends,” he says, his voice sending pleasing chills down my spine.

I ignore it. Sebastian walks off while Alec continues to lead me towards what I believe is my death.

He arrives at a big mansion looking place and throws open the door, then leads me up a flight of stairs.

“Are you human?” I quietly ask, and he gives me a look.

“No,” he says, and I push his hand off my back. I don’t want anything that isn’t human to touch me.

Alec respects my decision and leaves me alone.

“I have to admit,” he says. “I think Lucien is going to have a hard time hating on you.”

“Why?” I inquire.

Alec shakes his head, then stops at double doors at the top of the stairwell. He knocks on it, and the door creaks open a little bit.

“Who is it?” a rough voice barks out.

“Alec,” Alec says. “I have the girl.”

The door opens wider, and Alec and I are admitted. We go through a dark room before Alec comes up to a door with a gold handle. He turns the knob and opens the door.

As we enter the room, I timidly look around. I notice a balcony out the window, but that must be connected to the bedroom. Alec leads me through an expensive looking area that has rich material everywhere, along with books, into a smaller space.

He opens another door and inside, a man with his back turned to us stand at the only window in the room. He sips a glass of whiskey quietly.

“Don,” Alec addresses, and Lucien turns around.

I suppress a gasp as his body comes under the light.

He is one…hot…creature…