“How do you know my name?”
“I’m a vampire,” he answered, as if that explained everything.
“Most people call me Kay.”
“Do they? I think I prefer Kiya.”
She shrugged. What difference did it make what he called her? “Do you have a name?”
“Gideon Marquet.”
“Have you been a vampire very long?”
“A few hundred years. How did you wind up here?” She wasn’t like any of the other women the witch had brought him. The others had all been helpless, poor, down on their luck. Mostly women who would not be missed. Judging from this girl’s appearance—well-kept hair and nails, designer clothes—she came from a different class of people. Someone, somewhere, would be looking for her, though they would never find her, living or dead.
“I went to a nightclub with a friend of mine. I think someone must have drugged me.” She shuddered with the memory. “When I woke up, I was here.” She was shivering now. She wrapped her arms around her bent knees and drew them up to her chest. “Are you going to feed on me tonight?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On you.” His gaze moved over her, lingering on her lips, the swell of her br**sts beneath the white silk shirt. “I’ll leave you alone tonight in exchange for one kiss, freely given.”
“A kiss?” Was he kidding? How could he think about kissing at a time like this?
Gideon nodded. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman. He could have compelled those the witch brought him. He could have taken them by force. Neither option appealed to him. Nor had any of the women. But this one … there was something about her that intrigued him like no other. “So, what do you say?”
She eyed him warily. “How do I know you’ll stop with a kiss?”
He shrugged. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
“Trust a hungry vampire? Yeah, right.”
“Is that a no?”
“Hmm.” He was a good-looking guy. Cleaned up and well fed, he was probably devastating. “One kiss,” she said, and scooted closer to him. “No tongue.”
He grinned, his shackles rattling as he reached for her. She could feel the power in his arms as he embraced her. For stretched seconds, he simply held her, his gaze locked on hers. She felt a tingle of awareness bloom inside her as his hand moved up and down her spine, then slid over her shoulder to stroke the edge of her breast.
She started to push him away when he claimed her lips with his, and all thought of protest—indeed, all thought, period—vanished as his mouth closed over hers. She hadn’t expected to enjoy his kiss. He was a vampire, after all, but his kiss was like nothing she had ever known. Her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape as she drew him closer, suddenly inexplicably hungry for the press of his body against hers.
She moaned softly when he took his mouth from hers, sighed as he rained kisses along the length of her neck. Lost in a maelstrom of sensual pleasure, she was scarcely aware that he had bitten her until, with a choked cry, he pushed her away, then retreated to the other side of the cell.
Kay blinked at him, confused and suddenly light-headed. And then, seeing the red in his eyes, the single drop of crimson at the corner of his lower lip, she realized what he had done. “You said you wouldn’t feed on me.”
“I’m a vampire,” he said, his voice faintly mocking. “I was only doing what comes naturally.”
She glared at him when she realized he was repeating what she had said earlier.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, then cocked his head to one side. “What are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your blood. It isn’t human.”
She didn’t deny it.
He rubbed a thoughtful hand across his jaw. “It isn’t vampire.”
“No.”
“I don’t believe in fairies or trolls and you’re too pretty to be a zombie. So, what are you?”
Kay stared at him, wondering what he would do, what he would say, if she told him the truth. She considered a lie, then shrugged. Maybe it would save her. If not, she would be no worse off than she was before. “I’m a werewolf.”
For the first time since he’d been imprisoned, Gideon laughed. The sound echoed off the walls and the ceiling, sounding totally out of place within the squalid confines of the cell.
Kay stared at him, perplexed. “You think that’s funny?”
He blew out a breath. “Don’t you?”
“There’s nothing funny about being a werewolf, or turning fanged and furry when the moon is full, or spending the night in the woods once a month so I don’t hurt anyone, or … stop laughing!”
“Don’t you see? You’re our way out.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Werewolves are supposed to be strong, aren’t they? The next time the moon is full, you can break down the door and get us the hell out of here.” It would have been easy for him to do just that if it wasn’t for the silver chains that rendered him almost powerless. “Can’t you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried to do anything like that.”
“But you’re strong when you’ve changed? Stronger than normal, right?”
She nodded. It was a strength she had never fully tested, much to her father’s disgust and her aunt’s disappointment.
“Can you control when you change? Or is it involuntary?”
“Totally involuntary. It happens the first night of the full moon whether I want it to or not.” Why did she sound so defensive? She loved being in her wolf form.
“So, do you go totally wolf, or are you aware of what you’re doing? Do you remember it the next day?”
“Yes, I’m still me inside. I can understand what people are saying. And I remember everything that happens, everything I do.”
He dragged his hand across his jaw. “When’s the next full moon?”
“In three days.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “Locked up with a werewolf.” He shook his head, then grinned at her. “It’ll be interesting to see which one of us survives.”
* * *
Chapter 6
Kay studied the vampire sleeping beside her. The fact that he was asleep meant that the sun was up. How long until sundown? she wondered. How much longer could she go without food? Without water? Even now, her stomach was cramping painfully. She had never been this hungry, or this thirsty. How long did it take to starve to death? Would she survive long enough to find out? Could Gideon resist the urge to feed for another two days so they could put his escape plan into effect? Was she strong enough to break down an iron-barred door? She had to be, she thought glumly, because if she couldn’t do it, she was as good as dead.