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Authors: Sandra Sookoo

BOOK: Courted by the Vampire
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Her shiver transferred to Edwin as she clutched his hand. “It was very
nice. I can’t tell you how much I appreciated it, but we do have to be going.”

“I don’t think so, my dear. Did you really think such services would be
free?” Horace clapped his hands. Three burly ogre-like thugs materialized from behind nearby trees. Their gray skin was mottled with brown spots; their foreheads slouched low over their bulging eyes.

Edwin stifled a groan of dismay. This did not bode well for an escape
plan. He tightened his grip on Hannah’s fingers and prayed she did not feel his alarm.

“I’m afraid I will have to exact payment from you, whether you like it or
not.” Horace gestured and two of the goons moved toward Hannah. “I’ve grown tired of my current crop of women. I think a human would make a nice change of pace in the bedroom.” He laughed when she scooted behind Edwin. “You needn’t worry about the bounty hunter.” His greasy leer widened. “The Forest Witch has paid me a handsome sum for your capture, Edwin Mason.” His beady eyes rested on the vampire. “You and I are not that different after all. Everyone has a price.”

Edwin handed his duffle bag to Hannah. He assumed a defensive stance,
his hands fisted. He would rather go down fighting than let the perverted goat man lay a finger on her. “Let her go. She is an innocent bystander.”

The two ogres lumbered forward on their gigantic bare feet. He punched
the first of the bodyguards, the action doing little to slow the big man down. The second thug stepped forward and swung a beefy first. Edwin ducked. He threw another punch but his fist connected solidly with the thug’s gray chest. Tremors of pain ebbed through his arm as he sprang back. As Edwin jabbed the ogre again, the second bodyguard stuck his club between his feet.

He stumbled. The second ogre yanked him upright as if he weighed
nothing then secured his arms behind his back.

Edwin glanced frantically about until his gaze connected with Hannah’s.
“Run!” At least if she could get away, they would have a chance. He struggled with his captor, reeling in pain when he was shoved bodily into a tree. “Hannah!” He ignored the pain that exploded through his head when the second ogre clipped his jaw with a dirty fist. “For the love of the gods, move!” He ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. It was split and bleeding. He had to continue to fight. He needed to protect Hannah at all costs. “Go!”

Another blow. Pain welled in his head, but he kept his gaze on her.
Please.
Why did she stay?

His heart sank as a third ogre loomed from the darkness to grab Hannah’s
arm in his giant hand. She struggled a bit but the ogre easily overpowered her efforts. She clutched his bag to her chest and glared.

Edwin was pleased when
she darted a foot out to kick her captor in his shin. At least she had spunk. “Good girl.”

Horace waddled into view. “Take her to the holding cell with Esme.” He
shuddered as he said her name. “I’ll join you later, my dear. As for our so-called bounty hunter, tie him to that tree.” He gestured to a stout oak twenty feet from the fire. “His transport will be here by dawn. Then we’ll let the Forest Witch deal with him, and may the gods have mercy on his soul.”

“Pig!” Hannah bit down on her captor’s hand. He wrenched her arm
behind her back with such force, she cried out.

Edwin strained against his own ogre. “Leave her alone!” He was
rewarded with a backhanded smack from the second ogre. Hannah screamed as he slumped to the ground and let darkness claim him.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

Two short hours ago, Hannah didn’t have a care in the world as she’d soaked blissfully in a tub of scented water. Now, she shared a dimly lit prison cell with two annoying cellmates.

She tried to get into a more comfortable position on a small wooden stool,
but the smell of musty, rotting hay turned her stomach. Hannah quelled two dry-heaves then decided she’d let the next one go. She experimentally prodded the edges of Edwin’s mind, but just like the other two times she’d attempted it, there was nothing, just a blank dark expanse of emptiness. The knot in her stomach grew.

She hoped he was only unconscious. She refused to contemplate the possibility
he was dead.

Wouldn’t
I feel it if he was?

Turning to her cellmates, she stared at them with a critical eye, hoping to
distract herself. The first girl wore a hideous, pleated mustard yellow dress, had masses of curly black hair, and big brown eyes. She babbled on about nothing and she hadn’t stopped talking since Hannah arrived.

The other girl was dressed in a gown along the same lines as Hannah’s
except it was robin’s egg blue and trimmed in shiny gold thread. Sparkling diamond clips secured her expensively highlighted blonde hair, which was piled on the top of her head. She had refused to talk to either The Babbler or Hannah, and all the while her French-tipped fingernails constantly clacked on the edge of her chair.

Hannah pinched the inside of her arm to keep from screaming.

“Once you get to know Horace, he’s really not that bad. A bit hairy and smelly, but he does know how to pleasure a woman.” The Babbler played with the pleated folds of her gown and smiled. “Don’t you think that’s important?”

She
smiled politely with the futile hope she would stop talking. It was an empty hope. The girl was crazy if she went ahead and had sex with the goat man.

“At first I thought I would die when he touched me, but then I decided if
it was a choice between death and sleeping with Horace, I would choose Horace. I mean, who really wants to die early?”

With a groan, Hannah knew she had to do something to stave off insanity.
“Why don’t you tell me your names? I’m Hannah. I can tell you right now I’m not about to spend the rest of my life in here with you two, waiting to be taken into that goat man’s bed.” A shiver accented her declaration.

A sarcastic scoff from the corner called her attention to the other prisoner.
“Whatever, new girl. Like either of us cares what you do. Any time now my boyfriend will be here to rescue me, then that rat bastard Horace will be sorry.”

With a roll of her eyes, Hannah turned back to the Babbler. “I’m sorry we
had to be interrupted. What’s your name?”

She twirled a strand of curly hair around her finger and grinned. “My
name is Winifred. I’ve been here for about a year now.” She cocked an eyebrow in her friend’s direction. “That’s Esme. She’s only been here for a month but she’s such a bitch Horace doesn’t ever call for her.”

Hannah blinked at the accusation then turned to the pouting Esme. “How
did you come to be here? Were you kidnapped?” Somehow, she knew those fabulous shoes stowed away in her bag belonged to the girl. She glanced at the blonde’s feet, trying to determine what size she wore. No way would she bring the errant footwear up unless Esme did first.

“If you must know, even though it’s none of your business, I got lost
when my boyfriend and I were hiking the trails around here. I turned my ankle and decided to wait while he went for help. The next thing I knew, one of those giants threw me over his shoulder and brought me to this place.”

“Except she didn’t really injure her ankle, did you, Esme?” Winifred
threw the other girl an arched look.

“Stay out of my business, bitch!” Esme glared. “I faked it, all right? I hate
this stupid forest. There’s nothing to do here. I missed an appointment with my manicurist!” She examined the scuffmarks on the toe of her ballet flat. “If I’m not out of here in time to have Carlos touch up my hair, Horace won’t be able to hide from my wrath.”

“Yeah, well, guess what, Esme? I don’t like it out here
anymore than you do but I don’t make life difficult for those around me.” Hannah’s cheeks warmed when she thought about the whining she had subjected Edwin to over the last couple of days. “Why don’t you grow up?” She turned her attention to Winifred. “What’s your plan to escape?”

As her big eyes widened, she reminded Hannah of a sappy cartoon
character. “I don’t want to escape. I kind of like it here. We get regular food, are indulged by the whole spa thing, and we’re waited on hand and foot. As I said, Horace isn’t that bad. Just smelly.” She shrugged, her fingers worked at unbraiding the cord around her waist. “I just wish he wouldn’t insist on keeping us in here every time someone new comes into the camp. Usually we’re free to move about at will—well except for Esme. He just wants to make an impression, I think.”

“He releases you ‘cause you’re his little sex toy or maybe you’ve got
Daddy issues.” Esme paced around the small space of the cell, her hips swaying. “Give me two minutes alone with him and this camp will be eating roasted goat for dinner.”

“If you weren’t such a foul tempered princess all the time maybe you’d
get certain privileges,” Winifred countered back as a grin curled her lips.

“You’re too busy whoring yourself out to that beast to notice what’s really
going on here! Women are not supposed to enjoy being kept captive and forced to have sex with goat people!” Esme screeched. She turned on the other woman, her eyes hard.

Hannah swallowed a laugh. Esme did have a point, but now was not the
time to delve into Winifred’s twisted psyche. She opened her mouth to object.

Esme snapped her manicured fingers in Winifred’s face. “When my
boyfriend comes back for me, I’m going to have him break your arm!”

“If your boyfriend was coming back, he’d be already here! He’s probably
glad to be rid of you!” She shoved the other girl, laughing as Esme stumbled backward.

Hannah groaned. Should she break up the fight? The two girls most likely
had this argument at least once every day out of sheer boredom then her mind clicked on something Winifred said. She had called Esme a princess, as in a spoiled little rich girl. Hannah assumed she and Edwin were searching for a Princess with a crown and a capital P. A slow smile parted her lips. “Excuse me ladies, but could you keep the racket down? I’m trying to think.” As much as she would have liked to stay and see them tear each other’s hair out, she wanted to get free more.

“It must be an effort for you, huh?” Esme retorted. She climbed onto her
vacated chair. “I mean, hello, what were you thinking with that hairstyle?”

Winifred snickered.

Hannah counted to ten four times in succession until her temper evened out. “I’m glad you noticed my hair, because it’s designed to be different. I find just pulling hair back is so dull and boring, wouldn’t you agree?” As Esme glared at her, she smiled sweetly and rummaged around in her bag until she found the velvet pouch. “By any chance, did you happen to lose this?” She pulled the dainty gold watch from its resting place, its weight cold in her hand.

“Where did you get that?” Esme lunged for the bauble but Hannah
dangled it out of her reach. “I lost that the day I was kidnapped.”

“You certainly are quite the princess, aren’t you?”
She flipped the watch around in her hand to further taunt the girl. “It’s just a watch. Why are you so interested in its return, I wonder?”

“Because it belongs to me. It was a gift from my boyfriend.” She glared at
Hannah. “Now give it back!”

Hannah
made an executive decision. She would not rescue the girl, no matter that she was Edwin’s objective. And there was also no way she was returning the shoes. Esme probably had a whole closet full of wonderfully fashionable things.

Her
thoughts stalled on her magical jar. To spell cast the woman or not? Never had she been so tempted and it would give her so much pleasure to see Esme reduced to a miniscule height as she popped into the jar. With a heavy sigh, she knew she couldn’t inflict Esme’s presence on the inhabitants of that small community. The last time she had checked on the magical subculture, they were adapting to their new life. “Here, take it in good health.” She handed the watch to Esme. “Ow!” She glanced at the scratch garnered from Esme’s wickedly long nails.

“I’ll show you how much of a princess I am.” Popping off the back of the
timepiece, she touched a few tiny buttons then wedged the bauble between the door and the frame. “You two have ten seconds to take cover before the door blows open.”

Hannah didn’t argue. She’d seen too much in the last few days to question
a simple command. She crouched down with her hands over her head and hoped Winifred took precautions as well. Seconds later the explosion that blew the door off its hinges rocked their small prison. “Who are you?” She asked as the girl made a break for the door.

Esme
smiled for the first time since Hannah had been with her. “I’m from New Jersey. My family is part of The Family, if you know what I mean. No one messes with me.”

“Good to know.” Hannah yawned in an effort to encourage her ears to
pop. “Before you go, someone told me you knew where a vampire name Duncan is being held. So, do you?”

“Maybe.” Esme stalked away, and then pivoted to face Hannah at the last
moment. “Since the disturbance in the Realms, he’s been moved to Indianapolis. I have no idea where. You’ll have to ask Corinne the Wise. Ciao!” She bolted before Hannah could form a reply.

Who the hell was Corinne the Wise? Hannah sighed. She’d never met a real
life Mafia Princess before. When the government said the Mob had their fingers into everything, they weren’t kidding. Even the paranormal world wasn’t immune.

She shuddered to think of what Esme would do to her boyfriend since he
hadn’t come back for her in a month. Maybe he would be the side order next to roasted goat. Winifred paused near the door. “Aren’t you leaving?” Finally, she was able to really look at the girl. Artfully hidden under the pleats of the yellow dress was a swollen, pregnant belly. A wave of “mama bird” protection washed over her. Poor girl.

“I haven’t decided.” The smile on her face was almost Madonna-like in its
gentleness.

She changed her opinion of the girl. If it made Winifred happy to carry a
goat child, then Hannah would be the first to say, “You go girl!” She definitely didn’t want to be around for the birth. Those hooves alone were going to hurt. She grinned and shook Winifred’s hand. “Good luck to you.” She gathered her two bags and headed out before the ogres came to investigate.

“Hannah, please take this. You’ll need it.”

She plucked an antique brass key from Winifred’s palm. “What do I do with it?”

Winifred grinned. “Unlock a door?”

Hannah dropped the key into her bag then continued on her way. Her stomach quaked with anxiety as she crept from the destroyed prison.

The holding cell was nothing more than another hut near the spa. Ominous
heavy silence hung over the camp. The partygoers were either asleep or passed out drunk. Hannah didn’t care either way. She wove her way through a trail of half-eaten slabs of meat, still on the bone, as well as empty beer bottles and broken pieces of crockery.

Obviously, a wild bash ensued last night. The soft, pale lavender of the
pre-dawn barely lit the horizon. Hannah heaved a huge sigh. She needed to hustle to find Edwin before the patrol came for him.

Prowling around the campsite, she skirted the edges of the dying fire.
Bingo! She finally managed to locate the missing vamp. She stifled a groan. By the looks of things, it was going to be quite a nightmare to get him back.

Two ogre-sized goons stood guard near Edwin’s tree. Ropes wound
around him, and even from her vantage point, he appeared ticked off. His lips set in a fierce scowl, every so often he’d strain against his bonds as if they’d suddenly come loose.
Oh goody, just what I need. A pissed off half-vamp.
Hannah swept a glance around the immediate area again. As far as she could tell, only the ogres were awake. Think!

She ducked behind a large boulder, willing her brain to turn over,
to invent some fantastic way to free him. She frowned and rubbed her temples.

Edwin?

Hannah.

Black clouds swirled through her head as his bad mood permeated her
mind. Hannah drew a shaky sigh of relief and thanksgiving. He was awake and lucent, albeit very angry. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You’ll be happy to know I found our princess. Trust me when I say she was
definitely not what I expected. It’s a long story. I don’t want to bore you with details because you’ll snap at me. You do snap, you know, when you’re in that sort of mood.

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