Blood Dolls (4 page)

They definitely weren’t as bright as Jade’s.

Celia was almost ready, yet she’d never been so scared.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t do this.”

“It’s too late for fear,” Ariana said simply, and produced a blue gown for Celia to wear. It was held together by blue ribbons at the top, but was a sheer material. It was similar to the dresses the other women were wearing, but this one was longer. It went all the way to her ankles, while most of their dresses ended around the knees.

“I want to go home,” Celia said, choking out the words. She was starting to panic. She had talked a big game, she had told herself she could do it, but now that the moment of truth was here, she felt weak. She felt afraid.

“No. Your home is gone. This is your life now. Accept it, Celia. Accept it as quickly as you can because if you don’t, they’ll
make
you accept it.”

“Ariana, how long have you been here?” Celia whispered.

Ariana’s eyes darkened. A flash of pain appeared before it was quickly masked with indifference.

“It’s time,” Ariana said. “Come.”

The three women took Celia back into the bedroom. They all stood in the center of the room. A few minutes passed in silence before the large door at the end of the room opened. Celia saw a tall, strong man walk in and she gasped. There was no question about who or what he was. There was absolutely no doubt.

He was a vampire.

He was a real, honest-to-goodness vampire.

He was like the type of vampire she read about in stories: tall, dark, brooding. Big. He was big. He looked like he could hurt her if he wanted to, but Celia didn’t think he would. She thought he was mostly trying to intimidate her, trying to show her what her place was here in this mansion.

Well, it was working. She was quite scared now.

“Celia,” he said, and her mouth clamped shut. She didn’t scream. She couldn’t speak. Even if she had wanted to, Celia couldn’t say anything. Not to this man. Not to this creature. He had taken her. He had ripped her from her home, from her family, and for what?

To be some sort of fuck-toy?

“Come with me,” the man said, but she couldn’t make her feet move. What if this really was just a nasty trick? What if everything that happened up until this moment really was just to hurt her? What if she went with him and he drank from her, but he didn’t stop? What if he killed her? What if he broke her?

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She just stood there staring at him. He was tall: at least six feet or more. Probably more. Definitely more. He was thin, too, and scary. He looked muscular, but still slender. What was his body fat percentage? She wondered. It was a strange thought to have, yet it flittered through her brain. His eyes were dark, almost black. His hair was thin and long. His black locks hung just past his shoulders and he wore a suit.

“Celia, I won’t ask you again,” he said.

Ariana or Tasha pushed Celia. She wasn’t sure who, but it got her moving. She tried to glance back at them, to whisper goodbye to them, but she kept going. She couldn’t stop now.

“Ariana,” the man said. “You do lovely work. She looks exquisite.”

“Thank you, Master Gordon.”

Gordon smiled at Ariana, then he took Celia’s hand and guided her out of the bedroom. In the hallway, he shut the door to the bedroom, then turned to her.

“Darling, has Ariana explained the situation to you?”

She nodded. Then the words finally found her mouth, and they came spewing out.

“You asshole! You kidnapped me! You took me from my house! You stole me! You won’t get away with this. My parents will-”

“Your parents are dead, Miss Winstone.”

Her mouth dropped. How did he know about her family?

“Well, only your father. Your mother is in an institution, which is just about the same, isn’t it?”

Tears formed in her eyes. He knew all about her. He had researched her. Oh, fuck. Had he stalked her? Had he watched her? For some reason, Celia thought the man had just taken her, stolen her. She hadn’t considered he had planned this for a long time, that he might know things about her.

“There, now,” he whispered, running his finger beneath her eye. “Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup. Heaven knows Samuel hates that.”

“Who is Samuel?” She whispered.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Gordon said quietly.

“I don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t get a choice.”

He took her arm then and led her down the hall. She tried to look around at the beautiful paintings that hung on the walls, but they kept up a quick pace. They were in a mansion or a castle: someplace huge. They turned down several hallways and went up three different staircases before they arrived at a large door.

“When we enter,” Gordon told her. “Do not speak or you will be punished. Do not move unless you are told to. Your job is to look beautiful, which you do.”

Celia didn’t say anything.

This was really happening. They were going to go through there and the man was going to do something to her: possibly many things. He would drink her blood. He might fuck her. He might torture her or play with her. Mind games? Would those be on the table? She didn’t want to ask. She didn’t want to give them ideas.

“Miss Winstone?” Gordon repeated. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He knocked on the door.

***

The doorknob turned and Samuel stood perfectly still. His new doll would be here today. Gordon was bringing her. Samuel had told the man he didn’t want a new toy, didn’t need any new blood. The women who lived at the mansion were more than enough for him. They were used to their place. They were comfortable. They didn’t try to escape and they didn’t give him a hard time.

As long as the women got the things
they
wanted, they were compliant when it came time to feed. Many of them even enjoyed it. Many of them looked forward to it.

Gordon couldn’t stop, though. He had to push him. He was convinced Samuel needed something – someone – more.

And it was all because of Harper.

He didn’t want to think about her, though, didn’t want to focus on the way she’d made him feel. Samuel didn’t feel things for women anymore. Not since her and never again. He wouldn’t. He refused. This new blood doll would be fine. She’d be satisfactory.

He wouldn’t love her, though.

She would only ever be a doll to him.

Gordon pushed the door open. His eyes met Samuel’s. They were sad: a reflection of his own face. Gordon didn’t understand the way Samuel had felt about Harper, but he was doing his best to help him move forward.

That was all he could ask for, in the end.

Gordon’s hand rested on the small of her back, and he gently nudged the woman forward. She walked to the center of the room and stood in front of Samuel. Her eyes didn’t leave his, and he tried to hide his surprise.

Brave little thing, wasn’t she?

She was beautiful, with long, dark hair that had been curled: Ariana’s touch, no doubt. The woman’s dress was long and flowing. The blue fabric brought out her eyes and made her look even younger than she already did. He could see the tips of her nipples through the fabric, but she didn’t seem embarrassed or shy.

In fact, the woman seemed slightly curious, and maybe a little bit mad.

“So this is the new toy you’ve brought me,” he said to Gordon. He kept his eyes on the woman, waiting to see her reaction. She bit her bottom lip, obviously struggling not to say anything. Samuel knew Gordon would have warned her to stay silent, quiet. He would have warned her that speaking would result in a punishment.

Samuel had a feeling about this one, though. She looked like biting her tongue was going to make her head explode. How interesting.

“She’s quite a sweet little thing,” Samuel continued, egging her on. The idea of speaking
about
a woman instead of
to
her tended to drive most humans crazy with irritation. Women didn’t like to be objectified in that way. They didn’t like to feel powerless.

He waited, watching her. She bit her lip once more and took a deep breath. Her self-control was quite impressive. She wasn’t going to let him get to her, only suddenly, she did. Her eyes popped open and she glared right back at him.

“I am
not
a toy!” The woman spat out. Pity. He didn’t want to have to punish her so soon, but it was nice that she had spirit. Most of the girls who came to him didn’t. Oh, they understood their fate just fine. They were food and nothing more. He would feed from them, fuck them, and play with them, but Samuel would never love them.

He couldn’t love.

Not anymore.

Not since Harper.

“She’s spunky, isn’t she?” Samuel said.

“She’s a bit feisty,” Gordon agreed, looking at her. A brief hint of disappointment crossed his face. He was probably annoyed she hadn’t stayed quiet, the way he had obviously wanted her to.

Gordon had other emotions on his face, though. He felt more for this woman than just annoyance. He looked at her with the slightest hint of admiration, but no love. No lust. Gordon had captured this one because he thought she’d be a good fit for Samuel.

The man had his heart set on finding someone for Samuel to love. Too bad he was unlovable at this point. He’d been damaged more than he could ever repair. He had been broken beyond recognition.

“I am
not
feisty!” The woman said. Unfortunately, Samuel couldn’t ignore her second outburst. If he let it go, he would never get her under control. She wouldn’t respect him as her master or as a vampire. She would think she could walk all over him. While something inside of him said that it was true, that he would do anything she wanted, he couldn’t let her know this. He had to maintain control.

“That’s enough,” Samuel said, glowering at her. He narrowed his eyes and gave her the full force of his attention. For most humans, this was enough to drop them to their knees in tears. Then he’d drink their blood and maybe touch them a little, but it was easy. Humans were weak and simple. They were easy to control, to overpower.

They were easy to manipulate.

This woman, however, did not seem quite so easy.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say another word. Instead, she looked like she was sizing him up. Was she looking for weaknesses? Was she trying to figure out how she could escape from him? Was she trying to figure out how she could undo him?

This wouldn’t do.

“Kneel, doll.” Samuel used his deepest voice. Usually, it brought women to their knees. Sometimes they would fall over in their haste to obey him. He didn’t have mind control abilities and he couldn’t force someone to do his bidding, but he could encourage them through his dominance.

This one was different, though.

“My name is Celia,” she whispered. She met his gaze for a long moment, then she dropped to her knees and bowed her head.

Submission.

She had offered true submission.

She hadn’t dropped down out of fear of being beaten. She hadn’t fallen over and cowered. No, she had looked at him, she had quietly requested he use her given name, and she had done as he asked.

Who was Celia?

Who was this woman Gordon had brought him?

And why did Samuel feel like she was going to be the death of him?

The wooden floor was hard beneath her knees. Celia wished she was wearing something other than the thin nightgown-looking dress she had on. Anything would be better than this for kneeling. She’d do just about anything asked of her if it meant she could wear jeans.

Still, she tried not to focus on that. She tried not to think about her pain or the things she wanted. What she wanted didn’t matter anymore. No, her life was going to be different now. She was going to have to try to please this vampire, this Samuel.

He was a Vampire Lord. That much was obvious. His regal appearance spoke to that. He was bigger than Gordon: taller. His long blonde hair made him look even paler than the other vampire. He had a handsome nose and a strong jaw, but the thing she noticed most were his eyes.

She could drown in them, Celia thought. She could sink into those eyes and lose herself and no one would ever know what had happened to her. And wouldn’t that be just a pity? Celia: the girl no one ever wanted was going to die. She was captured by vampires and they would kill her.

Oh, Samuel and Gordon might mean well enough, but in the end, what mattered is that Celia was their food, their meal. She was just something they could eat, something they could use for a little while to satisfy their never-ending hunger.

She needed to get used to that.

She regretted her outburst. She had no doubt he was going to punish her for overreacting and sassing him. She shouldn’t have yelled or fussed. Not today. There would be plenty of time for that later, but did Celia really want to be known as the troublemaker?

Did she really want to give the vampire a reason not to like her?

Gordon had warned her to be silent, but she just couldn’t take it. She hated the way he had spoken about her, hated how he pretended she wasn’t there.

“Celia,” his voice cut through her thoughts, and she looked up at him. “Tell me what you know about vampires.”

She swallowed. This was it. This was the part where she told them what she knew and how she knew it and they’d want to know all about her past. Chances were they already knew. It was a test to see how honest she could be. It had to be. There were things in her past Celia didn’t want to explore or think about. There were things she didn’t want anyone to know.

“It was only one time,” she whispered. “And I didn’t drink from him.”

Samuel and Gordon exchanged looks.

“What are you talking about?” Gordon asked, squatting down beside her. Samuel was still standing over them.

“I fucked a vampire,” she whispered. “And I let him drink from me.”

Gordon let out a long, low hiss. Then he stood and looked at Samuel.

“Did you know?” Samuel asked.

“No,” Gordon said. “I thought she’d only been with humans.”

“This changes things,” Samuel commented. “But perhaps it isn’t all bad.”

Celia bit her bottom lip as she continued kneeling. She didn’t want to think about how she’d reacted when she heard of Lester’s death. She’d been devastated, tormented. She’d been anxious to get him out of her head any way she could.

And that way had been sleeping with people she barely knew for several weeks until the pain became a distant memory.

The vampire had been one of her first exploits. While the other men had been fast and sloppy, the undead man had been slow and tender. He had been patient. He had been attentive. She had experienced an orgasm during sex for the very first time and somehow, that was something she’d never been able to achieve again.

She would never forget, but she wondered if that meant she was tainted.

Blood dolls were sometimes virgins, but they were
always
vampire virgins. The master of the house was the one who took the doll for the first time. That was simply the way these things worked.

“Tell me what happened,” Samuel said.

“I was at a bar,” Celia said, and she had the decency to blush. It made her seem like such a whore, like such an easy mark. She was young and broken and sad, and she had gone to a bar to find someone. Anyone. “He came up to me and we spoke. I had a few more drinks. Then we left together.”

“He didn’t drink?”

“No.”

“Didn’t that seem strange to you, being at a bar?”

“I suppose it did a little, but when I thought about it later, obviously, it made sense. He didn’t want to numb his senses before sex. He wanted to get the full enjoyment of my blood. Since I was drinking, my blood would be alcoholic enough to get him buzzed.”

“What happened next?” Samuel asked. He was still standing. Gordon stopped squatting and rose back to his full height. He stood beside Samuel. Together, they made quite the pair. Celia wondered for a moment if they ever took women together, if they ever shared. Was that something they were interested in? Was that something
she
was interested in?

Despite her exploits, despite the random people she’d hooked up with, she didn’t feel
that
experienced. Aside from her one night with a vamp, her hookups had all been remarkably boring. Tab A goes in Slot B, kissing ensures, and then it’s over. It’s done. Everyone goes home and everyone moves on.

“We went to my house,” Celia blushed even as she said the words. What had she been thinking? A random man? She took some random, unknown man to her house? Alone? She wanted to lie. She wanted to say they’d gone to a hotel, to the man’s apartment. She wanted to say they’d gone anywhere but where they did, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Somehow, she thought lying to Samuel would be worse than simply telling him the truth. He seemed like he respected honesty. He seemed like telling a lie would feel like a betrayal, no matter how small or inconsequential the details might be to her.

“When did he tell you he was a vampire?” Gordon spoke.

“After we’d been kissing for awhile. He kept sucking on my neck and I laughed and said, ‘What are you, a vampire?’”

“And he revealed himself to you?”

She nodded. She didn’t think they were supposed to. Everyone knew vampires existed, but they kept their existence quiet and solitary. Most vampires didn’t live in these huge, hidden-away castles or mansions. Most didn’t live in secret clans. Most just lived alone, on their own, away from other people.

Most just wanted a somewhat ordinary existence.

“He told me yes, that he was a vampire. Then he explained how it worked. He said it would hurt a little, but then he said it would feel amazing.”

“And did it?” Samuel’s voice was deep, almost husky. Was he aroused asking her these questions? Did talking about the vampire she’d fucked turn him on?

“Did it what?”

“Did it feel amazing, Celia?”

She looked up at Samuel and nodded. She wanted to lie. She wanted to say she didn’t know what it was like to be with a vampire. She wanted to pretend to be scared, but the truth was she knew what it was. She knew the truth. She understood the reality. She knew being with a vampire was like a drug and most of all, she knew she’d want more.

She’d want everything he had to give.

“It was the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt,” she whispered.