Captivated (Deep in Your Veins 6)

“I know, thanks for reminding me that I won’t be the one who keeps him,” I said, my voice dry.

She winced. “Sorry, sorry, I spoke without thinking.” She let out a wistful sigh. “It’s a damn shame that he isn’t human.”

It was, but there was no sense in dwelling about it.

Finally at the front of the line, we bought popcorn and drinks. Then we were walking down a shadowy hallway as we headed to the theatre where our movie would soon play. Inside, we claimed seats on the back row and settled in to watch the previews.

It wasn’t long before the movie began, and I had to repeatedly stifle a smile as Maisy jumped and softly cursed during each intense scene. Zombies always freaked her out.

Halfway through the movie, I leaned into her and quietly said, “I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t look away from the screen as she said, her shoulders hunched up, “Okay, but hurry, because this movie is way too fucking scary for me to watch it on my lonesome.”

I snickered, resisting the urge to point out that—as a vampire—she could surely take out a few zombies if life ever deemed it necessary.

I quietly padded out of the dark theatre and walked to the restroom. A few people were inside, talking or washing their hands. Recognising them but not knowing them well—on an island this small, it was impossible not to have met pretty much everyone—I gave them each a brief hi before finding a stall.

Once I’d done my business and all that jazz, I dried my hands with some paper towels and then dumped them in the trash can on my way out of the restroom. I turned the corner and stepped into the dimly lit hallway—

There was a blur of movement as someone darted toward me at vampiric momentum, and then Castor was towering over me. “You bitch,” he spat, backing me into the wall.

Taken off-guard, I blinked. “Excuse me?”

His upper lip curled. “Hours. I was punished for fucking hours because of you.”

I gave him a once over. “You look okay to me.”

He hissed. “Because I’ve healed since then.”

Well, yeah, I figured that.

“I had broken bones, blisters on my face, cuts all over my body from Sam’s fucking whip.”

Sounds like it was quite the party. “She really doesn’t like it when men get rough with women. It’s pretty common knowledge. Now I’d like to get back to my friend, so …” I tried to skirt around him, but he slammed a palm on the wall each side of my head. I sighed. “Well this is cosy.”

“You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?”

“I could say the same to you, dear Nosferatu. What is it you want?”

His brow inched up. “What do I want? I want to have not suffered hours of pain. But I did, because of you.”

I folded my arms. “Your mommy didn’t hold you responsible for much when you were a kid, did she? Silly of her. That shit tends to breed entitlement. You’re kind of stuck at that emotional age where your own wants and needs come before everyone else’s. So sad. It’s what made you act like an ass and break the rules. It’s what makes you blame me as opposed to yourself for the pain you went through. I’ve known quite a few people like you. They all manage to fuck up their lives, and they never seem to realise they’re doing it. Weird. And highly pathetic.”

He put his face closer to mine. “You dare look down your nose at me? You are nothing.”

“And you are testing my fucking patience.”

“I could end your life right here at this very moment. And yes, I would probably be punished for it. But you would still be dead.”

“Your point holds merit. But I’m confused as to why you think this makes you scary or powerful. Anyone can hurt someone weaker than them—it’s not a sign of strength.”

“Do you think that being Damien’s toy for one evening makes you special and gives you the right to speak to me this way? I can smell him on you. Did you let him feed from you?”

I lifted my chin. “What’s it to you?”

“You did, didn’t you? Is that what it takes to make you give it up? You won’t do it unless you get to also spread your legs like a good little whore?”

“I prefer ‘slut.’ Sounds sexier.” I jumped as his hand snapped around my throat. I snarled. “Let fucking go of—” He was gone. Dragged away from me. And then he was a few feet away wrapped in a yellowy-green goo that oozed out of Denny’s fingers. David and Stuart were also there, glaring at the piece of shit.

“That was a huge mistake, Castor,” said Denny.

“Release me this instant!” the asshole demanded, struggling against the goo.