"Are you hungry?"
She hadn't realized it before, but she was. She hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast and it was now...she glanced at her watch. Almost five o'clock.
"I'll order you something," he said, pulling a cell phone from his back pocket. "What would you like?"
"I'd like to go home."
"Pizza? Hamburger?"
"Pizza, heavy on the garlic."
"Garlic doesn't repel vampires," he said, laughing softly. But it was a remarkably offensive odor to one with a keen sense of smell. Still chuckling, he called information for the phone number of the nearest pizza place.
As inconspicuously as she could, Daisy searched her pockets for her cell phone, only then realizing that the phone he was using was hers.
Filled with fear and frustration, she stomped out of the kitchen into the living room. She paced the floor, her thoughts racing. She had to get out of here. The pizza man! Of course, when the pizza arrived, she would yell for help.
She was sitting on the sofa when the vampire entered the room.
"Your pizza will be here in twenty minutes. I also ordered you a salad and a Coke."
"Thank you," she said, and then wondered why she was being so polite. He was keeping her here against her will. He had promised to let her go, and now he had reneged on that promise.
He took a seat on the other end of the sofa. "Relax, Daisy. I'm not going to hurt you."
She snorted softly. "Uh-huh. Everyone who believes that, raise your hand."
Erik shook his head. "You're right, I'm up to no good. I only ordered the pizza to fatten you up for later."
He swore as her heartbeat slammed into overdrive. "I'm kidding. Dammit, I'm not going to hurt you." He took a deep breath. "So, what's the going rate for vampire blood these days?"
"Two hundred dollars an ounce if it's from a young vampire. Three hundred if the vampire is over a hundred years old." She canted her head to the side. "How old are you?"
"Old enough that you could probably get five or six hundred."
"Really? It doesn't matter, though. I only hunt the young ones. Less dangerous that way, you know. But still lucrative."
"How do you know how old they are?"
Daisy folded her hands in her lap. Her father had a list of the names and descriptions of all known vampires and their last known lair. It helped her to avoid the old ones, but she couldn't tell Erik that. The list was a family secret. She wondered why he wasn't on it.
"I'll have to remember to hunt the old ones if I'm ever strapped for cash," he muttered dryly. "On the other hand, I guess vampires could start selling their own blood and put your kind out of business. How'd you get into your line of work? It really doesn't seem like the kind of thing a pretty young girl would find fulfilling."
"It runs in the family. My father works out of New Orleans. There are a lot of young vampires there." Her brothers were hunters, too. Brandon trafficked in blood; Alex preferred to take heads, but that, too, was information Erik didn't need to know.
Erik snorted softly. And they called his kind monsters. Sure, he preyed on mortals, but for survival, not profit.
Daisy clasped her hands in her lap. She hadn't intended to tell him anything about her family, so why had she? Had he worked some sort of vampire magic on her? She was no closer to the answer when the doorbell rang.
The vampire rose fluidly to his feet. "Not a word," he warned. "Or I won't be responsible for what happens to the young man outside."
Daisy bit down on her lower lip as Erik opened the door and paid for the pizza. It was all she could do not to cry out for help, but the thought of being responsible for the delivery boy's death kept her mute.
Erik put the pizza box, the soda, and the salad container on the coffee table. "Might as well dig in. It's the only food in the house."
"Are you just going to stand there and watch me?"
He shrugged, then wrinkled his nose against the strong smell of garlic, pepperoni, and tomato sauce. Although garlic didn't repel him, he found the odor decidedly unpleasant.
"I'll take a walk while you eat," he muttered. "Enjoy your meal."
Daisy watched him leave the house. She waited a few minutes, then went to try the front door, hoping against hope that whatever magick he had used to secure the door had lapsed when he opened it. But luck was against her. The damn door refused to open.
With a wordless cry of frustration, she picked up the pizza box and hurled it against the door. It made a satisfying smack as it struck the wood. The lid flew open, raining cheese-filled crust, pepperoni, and tomato sauce over the carpet in a gooey mess.
She stared at it in horror for a minute, then shrugged. If he wanted to keep her here as his prisoner, then he could just clean up after her.
Sitting on the sofa, she nibbled at the salad, drank half the Coke, then threw the remains of the salad and the drink against the door. The green lettuce made a nice contrast to the red sauce and yellow cheese.
Fear rose in the midst of defiance as she stared at the mess she had made on the floor. And then she stiffened her spine. No matter what Erik said to the contrary, she knew he was going to kill her. Better to go down fighting back than just sit there like some sacrificial lamb and wait for him to drain her dry.
She glanced around the room. She needed a weapon, she thought. Something. Anything. But there was nothing to be found in the parlor. She searched the rest of the house, giving vent to her rising frustration as she moved from room to room.
Returning to the living room, she tried the front door again, then perched on the edge of the sofa, her foot tapping impatiently as she tried to think of a way out. She didn't know how much longer the vampire would be gone, but after what she had done, she didn't want to be there when he returned.
Erik moved quickly through the shadows. He preyed upon the first human he found, took what he needed, and moved on. Deciding to keep the girl had been one of the stupidest decisions he had ever made. Thinking about it now, he wasn't sure what had possessed him to do such an idiotic thing. He couldn't keep her indefinitely. And now that she knew where he lived, he would have to move on. He hadn't lived as long as he had by being careless, or by trusting others. Until now, no one, save Rhys, knew the location of his lair.
Erik cursed softly. He had three choices. He could wipe his memory from Daisy's mind, though that might be difficult now that they had exchanged blood. He could kill her. Or he could let her go, pack up his few possessions, and search out a new lair. To his chagrin, he wasn't inclined to do any of them. His lair suited him. He had no desire to take Daisy's life, and, somewhat surprisingly, he didn't want her to forget him. One thing for certain, he knew he would never forget her.