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Let me go!”
“Oh shut up.”
“You think I’m happy about being kidnapped? Do you think I wanted this to happen?”
“No—of course not.” My voice came out bitter, drily humorous. Honestly, I wasn’t too enthralled by my own plan, either. My endeavor of kidnapping this beauty didn’t seem to be effective, neither was it really thought out. And judging by her skepticism displayed on that pretty face of hers, this damsel was more than demanding to know what I was going to do with her. Which was understandable.
“How many girls have you kidnapped in the middle of the night, huh?” Her demeaning, nagging voice would penetrate anyone’s ears. I was guessing, judging by her underdeveloped features, she had to be sixteen at the very least. No older than that.
“Hm?” she awaited my answer, hands on her petite little hips. “Well, tell me. How many girls have you kidnapped? And give me their names.”
“Actually,” I muttered to myself. “You’re the first.”
“Oh,” my kidnappee said, flattered. She faked a sweet, but rather tense, small smile. “I’m your first victim. Surprise, surprise. Am I special, or something?”
In the darkness, I could hardly make out her appearance. Hm. Light hair—blonde, full lips, pale, and cunning blue eyes. Very, very sexy. Perfect. “Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “I don’t do murder. It’s gross. Blood, gore…who’s into that stuff anyways?” I laughed, but after a moment my chuckle began to falter into silence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She arched a brow, suddenly growing interest. “That’s what they all say.”
“Huh, funny, isn’t it? Do you always seem to attract mysterious men in the middle of the night?”
“No,” I replied bluntly. “You’re the first actually.”
“Good.” Scrutinizing my surroundings, I couldn’t help but notice that not only did I find the most perfect victim—but the perfect setting. Dark, deathly silent. This was nearly a mirror of a horror film in the making. Even more…delicious.
Quickly my eyes darted across the sinful wields, checking for any sign of life. Besides that nuisance of a chirping cricket, I heard nothing but the constant yammering of the beautiful girl.
I found it odd that she didn’t take off already, frightened. Strange, even. Wasn’t she the damsel in distress here? Wouldn’t she have gone to get help already? And worst of all: what if she wasn’t even afraid of me?
I blinked in surprise.
“Look, creeper, as soon as I get my hands on my cell pho—”
Then I knew why she hadn’t gotten help, why she never ran away from me in the first place. Not only was she lost, but she didn’t have a cell phone as well. Otherwise, she would’ve ran away long before I even found her. Wouldn’t she?
“You don’t have it, do you?” I asked, raising a brow. “Ha-ha, it’s alright. I never even gotten to the dirty work yet, girl. Not yet, not yet…”
Her eyes widened with fear. Suddenly, I became aware of the twinge of seductiveness which crept in my voice. That definitely wasn’t my intention here. Getting some fear from my victim would be nice, though the last thing I wanted was for her to think I was some sort of rapist.
“No, no!” I was quick to oppose my words before the girl could snarkily snap back at me. “That’s not what I meant. God, I swear I’m not going to hurt you. I mean…” I paused. “I’m not going to say anything else. Not a single word.” I didn’t want to say something I’d probably regret later on.
The girl shook her head. “Who are you? Better yet, what are you? A vampire, hm?” Oh, she’s got to be kidding me. A vampire? In contrast, we were both sickly pale and nocturnal—though I wouldn’t go on that level and say I was some living, blood-thirsty corpse. Disgusting.
“A vampire?” I rocked on the heels of my feet, casually, keeping my hands in my pockets. “Really?”
“Mm. You’re cute enough to pass for one.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I sighed, apathetically. “Now, if you can please go into my car.”
She gave me a slight roll of the eyes. “Um, no. I want you to bring me home. And the last thing you want is me to scream.”
I blinked in surprise. “Is that a threat, miss?”
“No.” She inched closer towards me, breaking the distance between us. At last. The moment I have been waiting for. The moment where our gaze would meet…
“It’s a promise.”
“You think I’m afraid of some sixteen-year-old girl?” I asked, coolly. “I’ve seen worse than that. Way worse. Nothing scares me.” Not anymore.
“Sixteen?” Again, she rolled her eyes. “What makes you think I’m sixteen?” Inadvertently she shoved, sending me staggering. “I’m seventeen for Pete’s sake!” Not as if there isn’t much of a difference. I was close enough.
“Stop it!” I snapped at her. Thoughtlessly, I clasped my hand onto her wrist, firm. Still, desperate, I drawn her to closer to me—pulling the girl into my convulsive embrace. “If you’d bother to listen to me, and stop complaining… you’d know that I’m not necessarily here to kidnap you.” The girl desperately squirmed, trying to wriggle free from my grip. “You should really stop fighting it.”
Out of whimsy, my hand ran through the ends of her glorious blonde hair. Impulsively, I cupped my hand over her mouth, restraining the beauty from letting that scream she so badly wanted to let out.
“Please,” there was a trace of hysteria in my voice.
Yes, I was afraid; I was becoming hysterical for this girl to come along with me. She belonged with me. Why must she fight the truth?
The girl said something beneath my cupped hand, but her speech came out muffled, barely even perceptible.
“Hm? What did you say?”
I couldn’t risk letting her go. Not so easily, of course. Not without a price.
“Right,” I mumbled. “You said nothing at all. Now please, let me escort you to my truck. I promise—” I winked at her. “—I’ll never hurt you, love.”
The girl’s eyes spilled over with tears.
“I won’t hurt you…If you promise me one thing.” I added.
In her anxious plea, she nodded. Yes—even more perfect.
“Stay with me. Three days. Two nights. That’s all I’ll ever ask for… to fulfill our days of testimony.” Soothingly, I wiped her tear. “I could never let a pretty thing like you run away.”
Slowly, gradually I removed my hand from her mouth. Immediately, I regretted it.
“Or else?” Her voice was just as shrewd as she was minutes ago, despite the fact she was still crying.
My eyes narrowed. “Or else what?”
“Or else—what are you going to do to me if I don’t want to be with you for three days and two nights? Huh?” she asked, matter-of-fact. I didn’t like the tone she was striking here. Not at all.
“Look,” I lowered into a whisper. “I have my ways.”
“What ways—?” I clamped my hand over her mouth again, just to be sure.
“Shh,” I hissed. “Get in the car now. Someone might hear us.” Though, I doubted it. “Please. I’m begging you, here.” I held out my hand, blatantly expecting her to grab it. Tentatively, knowing that her life very well depended on it, she intertwined her fingers in mine. It felt more than good to know she had some, if any, trust in me—perhaps my charm and suave won her over.
“You can beg all you want,” she squeezed at my hand. “I just want you to take me home, and that’s that.”
“Feisty,” I snickered. “Aren’t you?”
Still hesitant, the girl opened the door to my old truck. I think she was surprised that I didn’t toss her body into the trunk.
When she didn’t bother answering me I added, “Don’t worry. I like ‘em feisty.”
She grunted in reply, jumping into the passenger seat of my Ford.
I jumped into the car as well, anxious to rev up the engine and drive. I think Coven would be more than happy that I found the girl we’ve been seeking.
As I took the fast route down the gravel parkway, I even tried to start conversation with her. Bad move. “So,” I began, not taking my eyes off the dashboard. “What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?”
“I believe I asked first, ma’am.”
“Delilah. My last name right now isn’t important. Yours?”
“Damien,” I growled.
“That’s it?”
“Yes,” I muttered, annoyed. “That’s it. For now.”
“Interesting,” Delilah wore that same fake smile of amusement from earlier. I could see through every little one of those fake joyous grins and pitiful frowns. It was more than obvious that she was afraid.
“Yes,” I mumbled. “Very.”
“How old are you?”
“What?” I snarled through my clenched teeth. What did it matter to how old I was? Not that age mattered to me, anyways. At least, not anymore. “Why do you care?”
“Funny, I told you how old I was,” Delilah scoffed. “You can’t tell me? You seem to tell everything else.”
“Twenty,” I murmured.
“What was that?”
“I’m twenty-years-old, okay? There. I’m not much older than you either.” Before she could say anything else, I held up my hand to silence her. “And before you say anything else, I’m not so thrilled about taking you in, either. The job’s fun but the pay’s not so hot.”
Her brows furrowed together. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Love the cover! Can't wait for the story. :D
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