That was when she realized something was wrong. It was the way he said it, the way he was looking at her. There was an odd note in his voice, a strange inflection that sent a prickling along the backs of her arms.
“What do you mean?” she managed to say as the carriage lurched off speedily.
He smiled at her, displaying a gleaming white set of fangs.
Maia barely stifled a shriek. “Are those real?” she asked, trying to keep her voice—and her mind—steady. Impossible. Her mind tried to scatter, but she forced herself to focus. This was not the time to panic.
In response, he settled eyes on her that glowed red. “Why do you not come here and find out?” He leered, patting the seat next to him.
“Alexander! How did this occur? What happened?” Her heart was a runaway in her chest, her palms damp beneath her gloves, but she remembered to keep her gaze averted.
“I had a visitor on the day you forgot about our engagement to take a morning walk. It was all very odd, for she asked me to come for a drive in her carriage, that you wanted to meet clandestinely.”
“Mrs. Throckmullins. Lerina,” Maia said, her heart sinking.
Alexander nodded, a funny smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “Yes, indeed. It didn’t take me long to realize that she wasn’t taking me to meet you, but that she had another plan in mind. She’s quite annoyed with Corvindale, and as it turned out, I wasn’t at all adverse to her suggestion that I join her race. It was either that, or she was to kill me. When confronted with immortality or death, I didn’t find it a difficult choice.”
“But you…you’ve given your soul to the devil,” she said. “You chose the certainty of being damned for eternity.”
“But I shall live forever,” he said. “And in the care of Lucifer. Thus that event will never come.”
Maia shook her head. “Alexander, no, you—”
“Enough of that.” He moved, suddenly shifting to the other side of the carriage next to her. “I see that you’ve already been introduced to the particular pleasures of my new race,” he said, grasping her arm with one hand to keep her next to him. With the other, he lifted the thick choker she wore to hide the nearly healed scars from Corvindale’s bites.
“Release me,” she said, trying to keep her head. The carriage door was on the other side of Alexander, and it was latched. She’d have to get past him, and get it unhooked in order to jump out—and the carriage was going at a very rapid pace. Her insides heaved unpleasantly as a chill blanketed her. “My brother will have your heart on a stake if you harm me. If Corvindale doesn’t get to you first, which I assure you, he—”
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard about your attachment to Corvindale.” His smile had been relatively benign, but now it hardened. “I presume that is how you obtained these marks.”
Before she could react, he turned, his weight shoving her into the corner of the seat as he lunged onto her. Maia drew in a breath to scream, but he clapped a hand over her mouth and plunged his fangs into her shoulder.
She jerked at the pain, arching up, clawing with gloved fingers and fighting at him, trying to twist away from his smothering hand. She felt the release of blood from her veins, the feel of his lips over her skin, the heavy, hard weight of his body pressing her down, down into the dark corner of the carriage as the wheels rumbled beneath them.
He groaned, his chest heaving against her as he gulped the blood from her flesh, his hand tight, pressed roughly into her mouth and cheeks. One of her arms was trapped between them and the back of the seat, but the other one she whipped free, flailing desperately at him, pulling at his hair, scratching ineffectively at his arm.
Alexander pulled away after she managed a particularly loud cuff against the side of his head, over his ear. Eyes blazing red, blood gathering at the corners of his mouth and staining his teeth, he shifted, releasing her mouth and grabbing both of her arms. He captured her wrists with one strong hand, forcing them down between them, where his weight held her arms captive between their torsos.
“Alexander,” she gasped, trying, hoping that she might somehow penetrate whatever frenzy had seized his mind, “Corvindale and Chas will kill you. Let me go.”
“I can’t do that, my dear Maia,” he said, his tongue swiping around the corners of his mouth to get the last bit of blood. “I have my orders. But there isn’t any reason why I cannot sample you. I never expected it to be this pleasurable.” He bent again, and she tensed, expecting him to shove his fangs into her once more, but this time, he covered her mouth roughly with his.
Tainted with blood, he tasted like copper, and something dark and ugly. He was hard and brutal, his fangs scraping against her mouth and cutting her lips as his tongue thrust and stroked. She twisted and fought more, tears of frustration and fear leaking from the corners of her eyes.
Corvindale. Chas. Hurry.
She felt the warmth draining from her body from the wound on her shoulder as he moved to the side of her neck, then the slice of pain as he drove his fangs in once more. They weren’t going to get to her in time. He was going to drain her. Kill her.
Maia closed her eyes, trying to focus, trying to push away the horror blinding her. In the background of her fear, she heard the drumming of rain on the roof and the vibration of the vehicle as it rolled along. She must remove herself from this moment of terror and think. Think. Was there something she could do to stop him? He hadn’t begun to tear her clothes away, but she felt the hard bulge that indicated his arousal, and she suspected with a deep, terrible fear, that he soon would move on to other violations.
But the heat and life flowed from her, along with her consciousness, and she found herself floating somewhere in a plane of fear and pain, hands rough on her, the incessant rumbling of the carriage beneath her.
And then it stopped.
He pulled away and sat back, looking at her. A drop of blood colored the corner of his mouth and his eyes, glazed with desire, burned down at her. “Alas,” he said, “we’ve arrived.”
Maia tried to pull herself up, but the interior spun and she fell back weakly onto the seat. Blood trickled down her shoulder and neck, over her upper chest and seeped into the neckline of her dress.
She heard a click and the carriage door opened. The rush of cool, damp air did a bit to revive her, but when she saw Mrs. Throckmullins standing there, Maia felt a rush of fear.
“Hello there again, my dear Miss Woodmore,” she said, rain drumming frantically on her umbrella. “I see that you’ve taken a bit of a sample of our friend here, darling Alexander. But what a mess you’ve made of it. Fool.” Her voice hardened. “She cannot bleed to death.”