Curfew Read online

  I ignored his lewd comment. I knew exactly what he thought about and I also knew he expected to repeat that wicked act. I already had no idea if I would be able to walk after the double fucking last night. I doubted whether I could live through another session like that one. How much blood still circulated in my parched veins? What kind of damage did their giant dicks do to my body?

  “Go to sleep woman.” That chilly mist surrounded my mind, a lullaby in tangible form and drowsiness enveloped me.

  * * * *

  “Sandy, oh Sandy—wake up sleeping beauty.” His singsong words floated around me as I skipped through sunlit fields of wildflowers. No, that couldn’t be right. John would never be out in the sunshine. Oh hell, my dream vanished and the waterfall was only John running water in the sink, the sunshine, my glorious sunshine, the glare of the overhead light. Damn.

  John stood at the sink in his boxers, running the razor over his chin.

  “Wow, you shave?” Stupid utterance but it just came flying out. Maybe blood loss damaged my brain. Made me feeble minded. He arched his eyebrow at me and made no comment.

  I had to get up. The urgent need to empty my bladder prompted me to move. At least when I sat up this time, the room didn’t spin around, distorted and ethereal. John watched me in the mirror.

  “There is a bathroom here.” He motioned to his right. I didn’t want to be so close to him, but I needed to pee. Oh hell, still nude. This would not continue. I refused to walk around his house without any clothing.

  “I want something to wear and I want it now.” I stood behind him, my hands on my hips, glaring at his exquisite back and the silly miniature yellow handcuffs sprinkled across his blue cotton boxers. Only this conceited creature would wear underwear like that.

  He laughed and it enraged me even further. I stomped my foot and almost wet on myself. Ignoring the braying jackass at the mirror, I brushed past him to go to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I heard his laughter through the door and I vowed to hurt him when I got done here. I washed my hands and face before yanking the door open to face my sheriff and give him a ration of shit.

  “Hey now, the closet is right here.” He pointed to the door behind him. “Your clothes are filthy but you are welcome to wear something of mine.” I itched to slap that grin off his face, but lifting my chin into the air, I stomped past him and entered the closet. He had tons of clothes in addition to several starched and pressed uniforms. I picked a blue button down shirt and pulled it on. It hung all the way to my knees. Good since I doubted he had any pants that I could keep up.

  “Sandy.” I jumped as he spoke. I didn’t know he stood right behind me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you—this time.” He slipped one of his uniform shirts off the hanger and pulled it over his wide shoulders, then he stepped into pair of matching slacks. After buttoning his shirt, he reached to the high shelf for his belt, badge and gun. An impressive sight he made in his sheriff’s uniform.

  I tried to get around him to leave the close confines of the closet but he made sure he blocked the door as he dressed. I stood there watching him, trying not to let my appreciation of his male physique shine on my face. A twinge erupted, deep in my gut, when he turned to look into my eyes.

  “Hey. Your eyes.” They shone back at me, brown as my own.

  “Contact lenses. I have to go into the station this evening.” My mouth formed an O but I said nothing. So, nobody else knows what he really is. How privileged I am.

  He left the closet and I followed. His butt sure looked good in those slacks too—well formed nice round muscular cheeks. I bit my bottom lip to punish myself for thinking of him in any manner other than a negative one. He stopped again at the sink and uncorked a cologne bottle, splashing himself liberally with that spicy scent. Ah, his natural aroma would give him away so he covered it with cologne.

  “There is food in the kitchen for you, Sandy. You need to eat and keep your strength up.” He smiled at me as he said this and I turned my back to him, the fucker. I knew what he referred to, again. It dawned on me at that moment that I was not the least bit injured—down there. I hadn’t even thought of it as I stomped around. Wow.

  My stomach growled and I thought I should go search out the kitchen. He stopped me as I tried to leave the room, turning me around to face him. “If you leave this house tonight, I will hunt you down and kill you.” He hesitated, watching my face for a flicker of defiance. “There is nowhere that you can hide from me or my kind. I’ll put out an APB on you for curfew violation with the entire human police force and if I must, I will employ every member of the Elite in this city and the surrounding state to hunt for you.”

  I gulped, just starting to feel that inkling of fear.

  “Feeders are thought of as nothing more than food, and a runaway feeder is treated very, very savagely by my kin.” He gave me a small shake to drive his point home. “Do you understand me, Sandy?” I stared at him, my eyes shimmering with tears, my voice trapped in my constricted throat.

  “If that isn’t enough incentive for you—know this. Your entire family will also be killed should I be forced to call my kindred in on the hunt. You’ve had your token attempt at escape, now don’t repeat it.” He dropped my arm and dashed around me as I stood there in shock. I didn’t think he would resort to such violence, but he didn’t say that he would, he said his kindred would. That, I believed wholeheartedly.

  A door slammed in the other room. Hmm. Not like I expected a kiss good-bye but he could have let me know that he was leaving. I left the bedroom and padded down the hallway. It opened into a large den. At the far end loomed the front door. As I approached the door, it flew open. I jumped away as if I’d been caught doing something wrong.

  John poked his head in the door and saw me standing there with guilt dripping from my face.

  “Stay inside the house, Sandy. I’ll see you shortly after 2am.” He smiled at me, lifting one corner of that generous mouth then he left again. He opened the door once more and the smile was gone.

  “Lock the door and do not open it for anyone, do you understand me?” I nodded and he winked before pulling the door closed. I rushed to lock the door and peeked out the side windows to see his car pull out of the garage. So he did drive his patrol car home. Maybe he had another car in that garage. No, I couldn’t risk leaving. I couldn’t even risk thinking about leaving. He had me trapped here as surely as if he had me chained to the wall. Thank goodness he didn’t go that far.

  My stomach rumbled again and I sought out the kitchen. This room, he kept pristine. His tile counters sparkled with not a crumb in sight. Opening the refrigerator, I discovered that he didn’t have much in the way of food, but he did have lunchmeat, cheese, and mustard, plus, a full loaf of wheat bread on the counter next to the stove. Not much else in the refrigerator. A jug of orange juice and some plastic packets on the top shelf that I felt sure were blood. I didn’t even want to see that.

  I made myself a sandwich then decided to explore a little more. How exciting to have full run of his house—an Elite male’s house. So far, aside from the blood in the refrigerator, I had seen little that made his home any different from mine. He didn’t have much for furniture but maybe he didn’t make a lot of money as a sheriff.

  I stared with longing at the door leading to the backyard. I would love to go out there just to defy him and I saw my hand reaching to slide the bolt. I watched it as if that appendage belonged to someone else. The door squeaked as it opened and I smelled the outdoors—the cool fragrance of the distant trees. Then, I suffered a scent flashback and the aroma of warm butterscotch overwhelmed me.

  Kicking the door closed I fumbled with the bolt and in my panic, I scraped my knuckles on the screws and missed the bolt completely. My heart threatened to pound right of my chest, but I had not left the house, I only opened the door.

  “Dammit.” Sticking my finger in my mouth I sucked the blood from the tiny scrape.

  “Aye, Lass, that would be my job.” I scr
eamed as the booming baritone echoed across the empty dining room. Spinning around I saw a huge man dwarfing the doorframe as he watched with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  “Who are you?” I gulped, trying not to sound so much like a frightened lunatic and more like I belonged in this house. He stepped closer, close enough now that I noticed the gold glint in his eye. Shit, another member of the Elite.

  “What do you want?” Almost afraid to ask, but I should know if I needed to run right out the door or not.

  “What do you think I want, little girl?” He lifted his bushy eyebrows twice in rapid succession and grinned at me, his lips so wide that I saw the fang teeth inside. I felt the blood leave my face, my ashen features frozen in a mask of terror.

  EIGHT

  “Cat got your tongue, precious?”

  I gulped, feeling like that had indeed happened because I felt no tongue in my mouth—nothing but thick, rancid paste. The kitchen door opened with a whoosh, hitting me in the back and nudging me closer to this new member of the Elite. I cringed and back stepped to get away from him.

  Arms came around my shoulders, warmth at my back—a familiar feel to those brawny arms. Then, he spoke.

  “Christian, what are you doing frightening this gal like that?” I melted in his arms, so relieved that my knees turned to soft butter. Stefan…

  The newcomer, Christian, stared at Stefan, defiance brewing in his expression. Even I could tell that much. Stefan stiffened behind me. He eased me out of his arms and pushed me behind him, cornering me between the door, the cabinets and his broad delectable body.

  “Why are you protecting that human?”

  Stefan ignored his question, answering him with a question of his own. “The real question is what are you doing here in John’s house, with John’s feeder?”

  I couldn’t see Christian’s face, but heard his quick intake of breath. “I did nothing with his property. And, she opened the door for me.” I gasped, pulling my face away from where it rested on Stefan’s back.

  “I did not.” Then a niggling doubt grew, I had opened the door—maybe Christian had flashed by me using some kind of Elite power I had previously not witnessed.

  “She didn’t let you in intentionally and you know it. So what are you doing here?”

  “I came to see John.”

  “Well you can plainly see that he has already left for work.” Stefan stiffened and reached behind him to slide me away from the door with him as he moved. He opened the door wide, ushering the intruder out.

  “Please.” Stefan waved his arm toward the door as he spoke. Christian didn’t move, looking over at me as if he loathed me. I cringed away from his hateful stare.

  “What are you doing here, Stefan? Does John know?”

  “Time for you to leave, Christian. Don’t make me get disrespectful with you.” Stefan put his hand on his chin, rubbing it as he looked back at the other Elite male. “Not that it is any of your business, but John does know I am here. I’m babysitting.” Christian burst into laughter and Stefan laughed with him at his own quip.

  I hated that once again, vampires laughed at my expense, those damned bastard Elite. I covered my face with my hands and ran through the kitchen into the den and threw myself on the couch. I didn’t know if I would ever lift my burning face from this scratchy surface. Babysitting?

  A heavy hand on my shoulder. What did he want? More blood? To humiliate me more?

  “Come on Dumplin, it was not all that bad.” The couch dipped as he sat on the edge of the cushion beside me and my body slid down to rest against his beefy leg. “And anything I said to or about you is better than the alternative.”

  How true. My embarrassment seemed very stupid and every nerve in my body oh so aware that I was touching him. I saw in my mind’s eye, this exquisite god standing before me, naked, with his enormous cock poised and ready.

  I lifted my head, then gathered my knees under me and sat up on the sofa, trying my best not to touch Stefan again, but his sheer bulk made that difficult. My legs didn’t want to bend the way I needed them to in order to sit on my butt instead of on my bent legs. The big lug had no intention of moving to make it easier for me either. Keeping my shirt down over my exposed crotch, another concern.

  I managed to situate myself on the cushion next to him. He sat back and then turned to face me, a smirk twisting his mouth into a grin that made him look about twelve years old, well if I didn’t look at his whisker stubble. Oh—those whiskers on my thighs and brushing across my sex—had to stop thinking like this. I sure didn’t want him delving into my mind and seeing that.

  Trying to act as natural as possible with my pulse thundering through my veins in a rhythm that would make a calypso artist cry, I smiled back at him.

  “So, are you really here to babe sit?” Oh my gosh, I can’t even talk right. Maybe he didn’t notice.

  “Uh, no Babe. I am not here to babe sit.” His smirk grew until he laughed out loud. A compelling laugh. So rich and smooth, like the finest liqueur warmed by the fire. I felt the vibration from his deep tone inside my chest and it tickled my ribs and warmed my aching soul. Even laughter at my expense, was still laughter.

  “What is it that troubles you the most right now?”

  Wow, did he really care? The expression on his face sure looked like he cared. I didn’t want to tell him about my family woes and the money problems and all that crap. By the looks of his expensive suit of clothes, he never wanted for anything.

  “I know you’re not in the best frame of mind, considering you are John’s feeder.”

  I winced when he said the word feeder, feeling the phantom pull of their suctioning mouths in the pit of my stomach.

  “Sorry for saying that, really I am. But I think there is something else, something bothering you completely different from your situation here. I want you to tell me.” I felt him reaching into my brain, looking for the answer that I was too ashamed to give.

  He patted my leg and smiled at me. “Sandy, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Look, I work during the day quite often and I need some sunscreen. Where is it, do you still have it? I would love to purchase it from you.”

  My mouth dropped open. He read my mind as if it were a reference book. I ducked my head, staring at the ugly gray tweed cushions of John’s sofa.“I don’t know where it is.” I mumbled, but I knew Stefan could hear me. “I haven’t seen the bottle since John arrested me and brought me here.”

  Stefan patted my leg again and hopped up, striding across the room before he turned back to me. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it from John and send a check to your family this very evening before I go to work. I have to get back to the office but I’ll check on you in a few hours.” He glanced out the window next to the front door. “I work nearby.”

  Before I had a chance to thank him, Stefan spun on his slick-soled shoe, opened the door and left, slamming it in his haste. I jumped up and locked the door behind him. Out the window, I saw him get into a dark-colored sedan and pull out of the driveway. He saw me in the window and waved. Such an ordinary gesture, the wave, as if he were my human husband on his way to work. On the verge of hysteria, I giggled and waved back.

  Alone in the house again. Plenty of time to ponder on my dilemma. I could not live as a feeder, or I wouldn’t live long as a feeder. I know that John is not treating me as the others treat their feeders. All of us humans knew the horror stories of cages kept in dark rooms like dungeons—the inmates barely given enough food to survive and treated worse than lab animals. Plus, the sex last night—mmm, delightful and forbidden by both my people and the Elite. Our two species simply do not blend.

  I had to find something to do with myself. I was still in shock that John allowed me free rein of the house. In many ways, he treated me more like his girlfriend than a captive. Still worrisome though, because in addition to our different species, John and Stefan are gay, and lovers. The hands they used on each other during our lovemaking last night were familiar, their stroke
s practiced to the point of being skilled. So why would they be interested in me? Maybe they are bisexual. They both knew what to do to please me and please their selves with me. Well I would try not to think about that. As long as they wanted me that was all that mattered, and that would keep me alive.

  Time to plunder through his house and try to discover something about this enigma that calls himself Sheriff Mironescu. But first, my dry mouth begged for moisture. In the kitchen, I stopped in the middle of the floor and just tried to absorb the atmosphere of the room. Not a vibe to speak of. His house gave off that “model home” type feeling. Maybe he recently moved here. Of course as I thought about it more, the kitchen is not the place vampires would congregate.

  I downed two glasses of orange juice and put my dirty glass in the dishwasher. Now where to look? His bedroom—no I should look in the others first, and then go back. Between his room and the one we shared last night, another door beckoned. He forgot to lock it before he left because last night I had tried the knob and found it locked. He’d piled this area high with all sorts of stuff. I’d just found his junk room. In the corner a large steel desk covered with every kind of paperwork imaginable, stood beside a nice antique looking dark wood gun case filled with a plethora of weapons. Ah, this was the reason he kept the door locked.

  I wonder if the Elite could be killed with ordinary weapons, or if they are truly immortal? I decided that it couldn’t hurt to get one of those weapons out, just in case another member of the Elite clan came calling. I found a cute little pistol with an ivory handle and searched the small drawers at the bottom of the cabinet for ammunition. Ah ha. Some silver colored bullets looked to be just the correct size. I managed to get the magazine out of the handle and stuff half a dozen of the miniature bullets into it. The magazine slid back into the handgrip with ease. I felt better already.