Original Sin (The Order of Vampires 1)

“This is your home, now.”

“No, this is a barn. And you are insane if you think I’ll make this easy for you. I’m not staying here, so I suggest you show me the way to the closest—”

“That won’t be happening.” His words were gentle, but firm.

“You can’t just kidnap people!”

“There’s more to our situation than you understand. Dress, and I’ll explain it to you.”

She shoved the clothes out of his hands. “I’m not changing! Aren’t you listening to me? You have no right to hold me here—”

“I have every right.” His eyes flashed in the shadows of the barn, appearing almost inhuman for a split second. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he bent and scooped up the clothes. “You’re making this very difficult.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I’m trying to help you and you refuse to cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Perhaps you’d like to drug me again.”

“I did not give you any drugs. You were exhausted to the point of weakening your immune system. I only helped you settle your mind long enough to sleep.”

She frowned. “No—”

“Yes. And I refuse to bicker over what’s been done. This is where we are and we need to move forward. There isn’t much time.”

She frowned. “Time for what?”

“Dress and I’ll answer your questions.”

She gritted her teeth. “Fine.” She snatched the clothes out of his hand. “Give me the damn bonnet.”

“It’s called a kapp.”

Like she cared. Step one was getting out of this barn. Step two was finding a phone. If dressing like Hester Prynne helped that happen, fine.

She yanked the dress into place. There was no give and little shape to it. The sleeves puffed at the shoulder, but the rest just hung like a sad maroon sack.

“Your cape and apron.”

She eyed the white items. “I’m sorry, am I baking something?”

His jaw ticked. “They’re part of the attire.”

For who, Miss Muffet? She scoffed and took the pieces, turning them this way and that. The apron made sense, but the other thing... “What is this?”

“A cape. It goes over your shoulders. Then it’s pinned in place with the apron.”

She shoved her head through the hole and tied the apron around her waist, knowing the garment wasn’t on properly but not caring either. “Where are my shoes?”

“You don’t need shoes. It’s summer.”

“What’s that have to do with it? I want my shoes.” Without shoes she’d never be able to get far on foot.

“The women go barefoot this time of year.”

And she bet a good portion of them were pregnant, too. “Whatever. I’m dressed. Now, tell me what we’re late for.”

He brushed a hand over his face and sighed. “Anna, you need to trust me. I brought you here, not to disrupt your life, but to save you from the life you knew. I told you I was on a mission to collect something that belonged to me. Well, I’ve found her. I was searching for you.”

“Um...” She didn’t know what was more disturbing, the words coming from his mouth or the look of absolute conviction in his eyes. “Yeah, but you did disrupt my life, so I’m gonna have to decline.”

“Decline?”

“Yeah. That’s a big no for me. But I’m flattered.” She edged toward the hole that seemed the only exit.

“You misunderstand. Things will be better for you here. You’ll be happier. I’ll take care of you and build us a house. I’ll allow you to decorate as you wish. It will be an adjustment, yes, but you will adapt and perhaps even come to prefer our slower pace to the violent tempo of life you’re used to. Perhaps even come to like me.”

She blinked up at him. Even her emotions seemed incapable of responding to such nonsense. She coughed out a laugh. “Will you, dear? Will you truly allow me to decorate?” Her tone dripped with sugared sarcasm.

“If that would make you happy.”

Oh, God, he thought she was serious. Her scowl returned. “When will you get it? I’m not yours! I don’t want to be here! And I will never like you after what you’ve done!”

Shoving past him, she ran to the hole in the floor, but climbing onto the ladder in a dress proved awkward and he caught her. She screamed as he yanked her back to his front his hand clamped over her mouth.

“You mustn’t scream, ainsicht.”

Her breath punched through her nose where his fingers crowded. His strength seeped through the grip he had on her arm, telling her he could hold her much tighter, but this hold would be more than enough to keep her there.

She whimpered, her heartbeat ripping through her chest with the force of a machine gun. Her eyes closed as his mouth pressed to her hair, and he breathed her in.

“I’m sorry this is not what you want,” he whispered. “It will be different for you, I know. If you behave, you’ll see that I can be generous. But first there must be trust between us. I am not your enemy, ainsicht. You must abide by the rules. It will make this transition easier for both of us.”