His Captive Mortal (4 page)

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Every time you sass me you will lose an article of clothing. You may earn it back by showing your subservience to me.”

“Are you fucking kidding—wait,” she cried as he reached for her shorts. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, your royal highness.”

He pursed his lips. “I think I’m going to go with sassy on that one,” he said, grabbing her pink bra in between her breasts, and yanking her forward. He sliced the fabric in two with his fangs and let it fall to the floor.

Her hands flew to cover her breasts, her face a mask of rage. Underneath the anger, she appeared shaken, and this time she seemed to consider her words before she spoke. “You owe me a new bra,” she said sullenly.

He lifted an eyebrow. “You may never get to wear a bra again at the rate you’re going.”

She glowered.

He made a show of letting his eyes travel to the two pert breasts protruding from behind her hands.

Her face flushed a pretty pink. “What do I have to do to earn it back?”

“Kneel,” he ordered.

“What?” she asked indignantly, even as her eyes pleaded for mercy.

“You heard me. On your knees at my feet.”

“What for?” she asked warily, her eyes traveling to his crotch.

He hadn’t intended anything like that, but his cock thickened in response to the idea.

“I could just go put another bra on,” she tested.

“And I could just glamour you to walk down Congress Street topless.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me, little fairy. I can be a real dick.”

She stood there, the muscles in her jaw clenching and releasing for a long moment. Finally, she huffed and lowered to her knees.

His face split into a wide smile. He took her shoulders and eased her back to sit on her heels instead of standing upright on her knees. “Thank you for your obedience, Sasha. Remove your hands.”

Her eyes shot to his, her mouth opening, forming a protest, which she seemed to think better of. She threw down her hands all at once, lifting her chin and her sternum as if to inform him she had nothing to hide.

Indeed, she had not. Her breasts were perfection, the size of apples, the rosy nipples ripe for sucking. He reached out and cupped one, running his thumb over the pebbled tip.

She flinched, but did not move, color flushing her cheeks and neck, her breath short.

“I thought—” She stopped and cleared her throat when her voice cracked. “I thought you weren’t demanding this sort of thing,” she reminded him.

He dropped his hand with an effort at self-control. “I’m not. But if I must punish you, all bets are off.”

He smelled her arousal again. Reaching a hand between her thighs, he trailed his index finger over the seam at her crotch, causing her to draw a sharp intake of breath. “Will you be good, Sasha?”

“Y-yes,” she said, her voice warbling.

He pinched the outer lips of her sex through her shorts and she whimpered. “Good girl,” he murmured. “You may get dressed.”

He released her and tossed her the shirt, standing up and walking away as if he didn’t have the bluest balls on the planet.

Yes, torturing her would be a torture to him too, but the sweetest kind.

“I ordered books for you to study,” Charlie informed her from her bedroom. He was walking around it, picking up her things and examining them. “But they won’t be here until tomorrow, so we’ll practice with your bubble today. Is that your only trick?”

She nibbled her lip. “When I was a kid, I swore I could make the wind blow.” She had remembered that the night before, as she’d considered Charlie’s claim that she possessed some kind of power.

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Can you make it blow inside?”

She gave a bark of embarrassed laughter. “I don’t even think I can do it outside, anymore. I don’t know if it ever really happened, or I just believed I could do it.”

He considered her. “You could,” he said, as if he knew it definitively. “Try it—right here and now.”

She closed her eyes, remembering how she used to climb to the top of a hill, spread her arms and lift her face up, saying, “blow wind, blow!” She imagined the feel of wind on her face, of her hair lifting in the currents.

A wisp of air, so light it could be in her imagination, breezed past her face.

Her eyes flew open. “Did you see anything?”

Charlie smiled. “Very good, fairy. Now send it my way.” He held up his palms.

She drew a breath and imagined feeling the wind at her back, blowing her clothing forward. A tiny current of air ruffled her sleeve, then died away.

“Again,” Charlie ordered.

“Did you feel that?”

“I did. I want you to do it again. Stronger this time.”

Already the two tries had exhausted her. “I don’t know how,” she complained.

Charlie strode over to her and cupped her chin. She thought he would threaten to remove her clothing again, or scold or spank her, but instead, he looked down at her warmly. “You’re doing very well, little fairy. The more you use it, the more power you’ll have. I need you to keep practicing for me.”

His approval should not have warmed her, turning her gooey inside.

“It’s...tiring,” she managed to say, still lost in his blue-eyed gaze.

“Do you need a snack?” When she nodded, he moved his hand to her nape, turned her and guided her toward the kitchen. There, he pulled a chair out for her. “Sit,” he said. “Now, try again. Blow the curtains over there.”

As much for her own curiosity as to satisfy his demands, she continued to practice the skill. After several attempts, the curtains lifted and waved in the air as if the window wasn’t boarded shut.

“Well done,” Charlie said, setting a plate of the same graham cracker treat she’d made the night before in front of her. “Now, show me your protective bubble again.”

She threw it up and he flashed back to give her room. As with the initial time, at first she didn’t see her creation, but once he showed her the edges with his hands, her eyes found the invisible outline, catching the shimmer.

He poked and prodded the bubble, able to distort its shape, but not puncture it. “Can you make it thicker?” he asked. When she tried and succeeded, he demanded she make it rigid, then change its color. It seemed there was no limit to how she could use her imagination to alter the image. Despite all her annoyance and fears over having the crazy vampire in her space, her excitement over her own latent abilities grew, making it almost worth it.

“Come over here and face this white wall,” he said. She stood as he directed and he stood behind her, grasping her shoulders. “Hold your hand out in front of you, and look at the energy surrounding it. Tell me if you see any colors.”

“What is it, an aura?”

“I don’t know. I see it only faintly, and most mortals don’t see anything at all. But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.” He spoke with his lips close to her ear, so she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the thrum of excitement at his nearness, his masculine smell and the memory of his fingers tweaking her sex. “What do you see, love?”

She shivered, seeing nothing.

“Shall I tell you what I see?”

“Yes, please.”

“Mmm, so polite. I see a layer of yellow, then turquoise blue, then green.”

She blinked at her hand, trying to see what he saw.

“Focus past your hand at the wall, but still look at your hand.”

“That makes no…” She twisted around, her breasts brushing against Charlie’s firm chest. “...sense.”

He smirked down at her. Did he know she found him attractive? She feared he did. He turned her back around and smacked her ass. “Try again.”

She picked up a burrito on her way to work from one of the food trucks, eating it as she walked. Even though she’d left, she couldn’t stop thinking of the vampire. She wondered about all the things he’d seen since 1825. And how much of the pulp fiction about paranormals was true? Are vampires incapable of telling lies? Would eating garlic keep him away? Where would he get his blood, if not from her? Did he kill people often?

She entered work, happy for the distraction of the kids.

“Sashaaaa!” several shouted when she came in. Willie zipped over in his wheelchair to greet her and Shelly and Matt ran over and hugged her.

She greeted the kids and fell into her routine of supervising their free time, dinner and recreation.

“What are we doing tonight?” Shelly asked after dinner.

Sasha always led them in one last recreation activity before bedtime, a chance to get their last wiggles out before they wound down.

“We’re playing charades,” she informed them.

“Yay!” a cheer went up.

“Who’s ready?”

“I am, I am,” several responded in a chorus.

Those who wanted to play gathered up and she began the game, splitting the group into teams and taking the first card for her team. She stood on the stage, trying to get her team to say Mission Impossible, which seemed to be a mission impossible in itself. She pantomimed Tom Cruise while the kids giggled. Noah, the other counselor was laughing at her. He shouted out things like Karate Kid? and she scowled at him.

And then she froze.

Charlie stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his muscled chest, a bemused expression on his face.

With effort, she returned to the game before the timer went off and she lost the round. She moved toward the back of her group, not looking toward Charlie, but sensing him saunter over.

Noah craned his neck around to look at him curiously, then his expression turned blank and he looked away.

Her belly clenched. Charlie had probably just hypnotized her co-worker. What other havoc would he wreak here?

“What are you doing here?” she hissed when he reached her.

He shrugged. “I told you. You won’t be rid of me until you’ve lifted the curse.”

“But I’m working. You need to leave—right now.”

He folded his arms. “Who’s going to make me?”

Her face grew warm as she realized she had absolutely no way to make him do anything. Putting up with his presence at home was one thing, but to think she endangered these innocent children by exposing them to a vampire made her turn cold. She leaned forward, her teeth clenched, angry tears burning her eyes. “If you so much as touch—”

“I’m not here to harm the children,” he interrupted, appearing offended.

“Why are you here?”

“We have work to do. After sundown is my best time of day. Hence, I will be working here with you.”

Her shoulders sagged. “No way.”

“Change your schedule to work days,” he suggested.

She frowned. “I would love to, but it’s not up to me. I’m low woman on the totem pole around here.”

He cocked his head. “Is the person in charge of that decision here tonight?”

Her belly twisted again. What would he do? 

“Yes,” she said warily. “Why? What are you going to do, hypnotize her?”

“Why not?”

“Well, it may not be so simple. Like perhaps she doesn’t have anyone to switch me with, or management has a rule against…”

“Where is she?” he cut in.

She stared at him, her mind tumbling. On one hand, she really would prefer to work days, so what harm could there be in trying? On the other hand, the more the vampire interfered in her life, the more complicated things might become. She blew out her breath. “Edith Johnson—tall, salt and pepper hair. Her office is down that hall on the right.”

He winked. “I’ll be right back.”

She half expected him to simply disappear, as he had the night before, but he turned and walked away, the muscles of his back rippling under his tight shirt, the faded seat of his jeans molding to his ass.

Before she could stop to consider how sexy she found him, the children called her name and it was her team’s turn. Unfortunately, two of the children began arguing over the answer and one of them, Tommy, an eight-year-old with impulse control issues, among other things, physically attacked the other child. She interceded, restraining him in the way they were taught, his arms crossed over his chest, held from behind in an embrace as she spoke calming words.

He thrashed against her with more strength than she might guess a child of his size would have and she struggled to contain him.

Charlie appeared suddenly at her side, as if he had traced there rather than walked. His fangs were slightly elongated, which frightened her. She jumped back, taking the boy with her. “Everything’s all right, Tommy. Take it easy. Breathe,” she soothed.

“Look at me, Tommy,” Charlie said.

“No, don’t!” she snapped, her heart racing.

Her panic only fueled the boy’s and he freed one hand, which smacked her in the face. She caught his wrist again and pulled it to his waist. This situation was getting worse. First of all, if the other counselors showed up to help, she had Charlie’s presence to explain. Second, she didn’t trust him not to hurt the boy or cause trouble.

“I can calm him,” Charlie said, sounding annoyed.

“I just want you to get the fuck out!” she snarled.

Tommy thrashed about, her anger fueling his fit.

Charlie’s hand snapped out and wrapped a fist in her hair, pulling her head back.  “Do not speak to me in that tone.”

Her eyes widened in fear.

“Apologize, or I will punish you right here in front of all these kids.”

The idea of him humiliating her in front of the children made her so furious her head nearly exploded. She glared daggers at him. “I hate you,” she said, shaking her head. “I really do.”

He hadn’t meant to make things worse. When he’d seen Sasha struggling with the boy, an irrational protective urge had surged, even though she had a handle on the situation. His fangs had lengthened for a fight and he had flashed immediately to her side.

Now, though, he had only succeeded in pissing her off. And he’d issued a threat, which meant he would have to follow through. Probably not his wisest move. “Now, Sasha,” he said, lifting his eyebrows in warning.

“Vampire, vampire, vampire,” the boy repeated, thrashing harder.