Nectar (Nectar 1)

She felt so weak; maybe the food would help. She knew one thing; she needed a clear head so that she could figure this thing out. She leaned toward the tray, wincing at the pain in her body. He reached over, lifted it, and put it on the bed beside her, passing her the glass. It was apple juice. She took a slow sip and kept her eyes on him, trying to read his expression. He was sitting still, watching her, his expression broody. The juice tasted so good. She was suddenly ravenous.

There was a clatter outside the door. He jumped up and exited the room.

Kyla took a deep breath and then had a bite of a turkey sandwich. This was all so surreal. She looked down at it and examined it more closely. It was roasted turkey with stuffing and cranberry on it. It tasted like Thanksgiving to her. She thought it was odd to be served such a sandwich in June --- especially her favourite sandwich. This wasn’t deli turkey; it was like it came from a thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. She felt something wet on her neck and realized that she had blood seeping out of the bandage. She put the sandwich down and got up and went to the bathroom and washed her hands and then held pressure to the bandage for a few minutes.

As she headed back toward the bed she heard another bang outside the door. It jolted her. Then it was silent. She looked back at the sandwich.

A birthday gift for a vampire. She snickered, as she took another bite while still applying pressure to her neck.

Man, this is good!

But a bomb of a birthday gift, really, right? She didn’t fall under his spell and how bad for them both. Really bad for her. If she had those vacant eyes he was used to, she’d be back home by now, none the wiser. She’d have had some great sex, although she wouldn’t have remembered it, been a human blood bank, and then forgotten all about it.

“Why me?” she mumbled aloud, “Only me.” Everyone else got to be blissfully ignorant of the truth about the things that went bump in the night but not Kyla Spencer. Kyla had to face the bump in the night head on. Story of her life!

Her neck was suddenly sore. Like, really sore. Her pelvic bone felt badly bruised. Her ribs and legs were sore, too. And her girlie parts? Raw and sore.

She had no idea what time it was now. She knew at least one if not both of her bosses and probably Daisy her roommate would be wondering where she was.

She worked at the sandwich for a few minutes. Her appetite disintegrated after a few bites but she knew she needed strength after all that blood loss. How much blood could she safely lose without dying? She wondered why he had taken blood in a needle. She never felt so weak in her life and her brain felt hazy, too. The wound on her neck seemed to stop bleeding.

She’d need brains and brawn to get out of here. Suddenly she felt rage rise in her,

“Damn it, you asshole!” She yelled at the closed door, “Let me fucking go!”

She threw the plate across the room. It bounced against the door and landed on the carpet. She threw the dish of fruit, too. She was exhausted and weak. She surrendered to more sleep, her hand holding the bandage tight.

She woke up some time later when she heard the door open. A tall and good-looking blond guy dressed in black suit pants and a black turtle neck sweater entered. He looked about her age, maybe, and had a boy-next-door wholesomeness to his face. He assessed her with a serious look as he walked toward her. She looked at him expectantly. She didn’t know whether or not to be afraid. Right now she was too tired and weak to be afraid. He didn’t seem menacing. But then again, neither would Tristan to anyone who didn’t know different.

“Kyla,” he said, looking into her eyes and speaking slowly, “Stay there. Tristan won’t be back until later. If you need anything, use this.” He put a two-way radio on the nightstand and pointed to his own hip. There was another like it on his waistband, “I’m Joseph. Joe. If you try anything you’ll be restrained. The door will be locked.”

She blinked at him.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. He backed away slowly and gave her a polite nod and then turned on his heel when he reached the door. She heard it lock. The fruit and cranberry smears had been wiped from the door sometime while she slept, evidently.

She lifted the radio and was about to fling it at the door, too, but stopped herself and put it down on the bed then bolted up out of the bed and started rifling through the drawers in a big chest of drawers near the bed. They were all empty. She looked in the drawers of the night tables. Empty, but for an extra set of sheets, box of condoms, and a bottle of KY Jelly. She tossed the condoms and tube of lube across the room in disgust. Then it dawned on her that he hadn’t bothered to use a condom on her. Her face heated at that. She couldn’t think about that right now.