He did not have long to wait. No sooner had he entered the private suite of rooms off the side of the office, whatever was in the drink hit him like a ton of bricks.
Swaying unsteadily upon his feet, using the walls and furniture to keep him upright, Daray moved deeper into the living room, tripping finally over the lounge chair Anise was constantly moving about. He landed in a heap upon the floor, barely managing to throw his arms out in time to stop himself from landing on his face. With a growl of anger he rolled to his back, the ceiling above spinning like mad before his eyes.
"Bitch!" He hissed between clenched teeth, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened at the back of his throat, leaving a burning, bitter taste in his mouth.
Darkness gathered around the irises of his eyes, whatever she had given him was going to send him into oblivion and Daray heard a laugh, realizing that it came from deep within his chest. What was so funny he had no idea, only he could not stop more from erupting as the darkness grew larger, deeper until silence engulfed and he slept.
Carla paced, back and forth, back and forth. Her throat was still tender from Daray's bite, yet a slow, warm smile worked its way across her lips at the memory, moreover the memory of him taking her right there in the park, hard, hot and heavy. Even after the thorough pounding he'd given her, the incredible orgasms she'd experienced, she wanted more... now!
She continued to pace the long length of the abandoned warehouse she now called home along with several others of her kind. She had lost her apartment after Daray had turned her, she could no longer work the dayshift and her nights were now filled with sustaining her need of blood. The sex was just a way to get it, offering up her body as a lure to satisfy her hunger. Sex that left her feeling empty, and unsatisfied all because of Daray.
Human or vamp alike could not make her body feel the way his could. Could not fill her to overflowing, warming her from the inside out as his climax's did. Even now, after only a few hours since he'd taken her so gloriously her hunger for him intensified, she wanted the feel of his powerful body pressed against her own, his hips rocking into hers, that incredible length working her to higher and higher plateaus.
Her steps faltered as she thought about him returning to Anise, what would happen to him if the more powerful vampire found out of their time together. Since coming here to live she had heard stories about the pair, how much Daray hated the woman that controlled him and how ferociously jealous the woman was. Only a handful of the vampires living in this warehouse with her knew of her fascination of Daray and all had warned her that she was playing a very dangerous game with her life. Anise would not tolerate any other woman attempting to lay claim to the man she had created simply as a sexual toy. Many had tried and all had died. Carla aimed to change that, if possible.
Yes, she had to admit that she was obsessed with the man, obsessed with his looks, his gentleness, his compassion that she knew he held despite what he was, otherwise he would have killed her the night he'd turned her. To Carla, Daray was like a drug that she could never get enough of and she acknowledged silently to herself that she was addicted fully. There had to be a way to get him away from Anise, a way to destroy one of the most powerful vampires imaginable, but how.
Oh hell! Was the first thought that ran through Daray's mind when he awoke to find himself tied, hands and feet to a wooden frame in the shape of a very large X. He glanced down, his frown deepening to find himself completely naked and he was hungry. Very, very hungry which told him that Anise had drank from him before he had regained consciousness.
Looking around, he realized that he was also no longer in the private chambers of the club and that absolutely nothing looked familiar. A sense of dread crept up his spine and yet, he still prayed for the death to take him out of Anise's control. Unfortunately, he knew too that what she had told him was true, she would not kill him, not until she was ready to end his life and after over one hundred years it seemed that that time was never going to come.
There were no windows for him to judge the time of day or night and from the cramps in his arms, he guessed he'd been placed here not too long after he had lost consciousness.
What were her plans for him? Daray questioned in silence. Did she plan on leaving him here for a few days, letting his blood lust grow? It wouldn't take long, the only feeding he had partaken had been from Carla and that had only been enough to enhance his climax, a trait Anise had instilled within him when she'd turned him.
He fought the images that flashed through his mind. The images of the turning so many years ago, of how many times she controlled his body and his mind with only her words. She was his creator and the only ways he could be freed of her hold upon him was through death. His or Anise's. Unfortunately, with that control came his inability to destroy his creator and that, in and of itself, was the most infuriating considering he had tried on several occasions only to end up... like he was at this very moment.
"Damn!" He growled into the silence.
The hours stretched on, Daray's arms were completely numb not even aware that the twisting, jerking and tugging had caused the ropes to cut into his flesh and he was losing what little precious blood he had. He rested as best he could, floating in and out of consciousness as the day or night wore on. It was during one lucid moment that he decided that leaving him here without the chance to feed was how she planned on punishing him. He could not have been more wrong.
When night came, after feeding voraciously Anise stood silently watching Daray sleep. His chin rested lightly upon his chest, which rose and fell in a shallow rhythm, a telling clue as to how weak he actually was. A small pang of guilt washed through her, but when she recalled his attack, her conviction to punish him came back strongly.
He was a magnificent creature, even after one hundred plus years under her control. A soft smile curled her bloodstained lips; she had chosen her mate well so long ago. His muscular frame was just as firm and rippled as the night she had taken him into her fold, into her bed and into her body and a shudder of need enveloped her as she continued to stare at him.
The moment he had entered the club and sat down beside her she knew he had been with the same woman twice. She could smell the bitch all over him and his clothing and jealousy clawed at her chest. Daray was her chosen mate and whomever this female was, she had just signed her own death warrant.
Anise silently glided across the floor, hand lifting to rake a long nail down the center of his torso and his head snapped up at the touch. Dazed, bloodlust filled eyes swirled until he could focus upon his visitor and she smiled up at him.
"Hello, lover." She stated in her sultry voice and he went rigid in alarm.
There were streaks of blood down both arms and down his sides from where he had tried to free himself. The sweet scent pulled at her senses and her tongue snaked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips.
"Kill me now, Anise." He growled low, unable to lift his voice much higher in his weakness.
"Never, Daray." She responded, moving closer, pressing her face against his rippled belly, inhaling a scent that only he possessed and her jealously surged when that scent mingled with that of the female he had taken earlier.
In a fit of anger she struck out, her steely fingernails raking a deep gash across his abdomen, yet he did not call out in pain. The only sound he emitted was a sharp hiss of breath and his eyes narrowed down at her dangerously.
