Camden stood at the end of the hallway quietly speaking to the dark-skinned Connor. The two of them had already canvassed the entire fourth floor twice, and Connor had cleared the area outside. If someone did know they were there, they were biding their time and waiting for the moment to strike.
And Camden was none too thrilled. None of it was part of the plan. He hadn't come prepared for this. Keeping Rayne safe, in a place he wasn't absolutely familiar with and without any of his usual security measures in place, was going to be one hell of a headache.
But what other choice did he have? He couldn't very well take her to the place that just that morning had nearly been infiltrated and more than likely still held her grandfather's corpse somewhere on the premises. The poor girl had suffered enough for one day. She needed a break.
He glanced over his shoulder at the door to the suite where he knew a stressing Rayne resided on the other side. It didn't matter what it took, he would protect her at all costs. Not only for the promise he made Martin, but for himself. He couldn't explain the strange connection, attraction, or whatever it was between them, but he knew that he needed her in some way.
At first, he'd thought it was because he'd practically watched her grow up, checking in here and there and always near but never noticed, even when she was at her lowest and worst. Martin had kept close tabs on Rayne and her mother since the day they had left him, and he always knew when things were going badly. He never, not once, hesitated to send Camden to watch over them if he even suspected a hint of physical or emotional danger was near. So, naturally, he became attached.
It was as if Martin had known all along that something like this was going to happen and took all the necessary precautions to ensure both her safety, and that Camden played a role in it. There had to be a bigger picture that he wasn't seeing. He sighed and returned his attention to his partner, who gave a short nod.
He left his comrade and entered the main area of the suite. It was already dark outside and he realized that what she probably needed more than anything right now was time to process. She would deal with things in her own way like he'd seen her do many times before.
Throughout her life, there had been more than one occasion where he wished he could have revealed himself and comforted her, especially after her mother died. Rayne had stayed locked up in her home for days and did nothing but cry. She didn't eat, drink, shower, or sleep the entire time. He had been in just as much pain witnessing the girl he'd secretly watched over for years endure such hurt.
No, he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Not now. Not ever. He would try his best to give her the space she needed, but he wasn't going to promise himself anything.
He stood outside the door to the bedroom, leaning close and listening. Slow, even breathing was all that could be heard. He quietly turned the knob and entered the dark room. Rayne laid on the edge of the bed, knees up to her chest, and one hand under her pillow. She actually looked peaceful in spite of everything.
Camden inhaled deeply and shook his head, driving away the thoughts that threatened to surface. Silently, he stepped around the bed and over to the balcony, checking to make sure the deadbolt was locked. He took one last glance before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.
***********
Rayne was tied to the bed, a gag in her mouth, wearing nothing but her bra and panties.
Smooth-skinned extremities were spread wide and bound to each of the bedposts by some kind of white, cottony material. Try as she might, she couldn't get free. She jerked her head in either direction and pulled on her restraints until she thought her hands would pop off.
But nothing budged.
Wide eyes searched the dark room, and she could only vaguely distinguish the outline of a body in a chair next to the bed. Who was he? What did he want?
Tears began to flow down her cheeks, and she screamed against the object stuffed into her mouth, only managing little more than a muffled moan. A deep voice traveled through the room, and her guts churned at the sound.
"Struggling will get you nowhere. You're mine, and I'm going to make you tell me where it is."
She thrashed some more, a new series of tears falling to stain the sheets. She screamed, screamed with everything she had, desperate and hoping that someone would hear.
But no one came.
"I don't know where it is!" she sobbed in undecipherable words.
His deep, guttural laugh rang out and grew closer. She panicked even more, throwing her head and limbs about violently.
"You don't want to talk? Fine."
Rayne felt the bed shift as his heavy body climbed up and moved to cover hers. His putrid breath pelted her neck and face, assaulting her senses with the most rancid smell, like that of a decomposing corpse. His bulk pinned her down and one of his large hands came up to grip her jaw, successfully immobilizing her. The darkness shrouded his face, and she couldn't see who her attacker was.
"I'll enjoy watching you die slowly and painfully, drip by drip, until every ounce of blood is drained from your body."
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, turning her head to the side to escape his foul odor, and bit down on the gag in an attempt to prepare herself for the inevitable. She stared at the door, begging and pleading in uncontrollable sobs for someone to walk in and save her.
And then she saw it, a slight movement in the blackness of the corner. Her heart stopped beating and she couldn't breathe. There he was, that ever-present shadow that haunted her nightmares. The faceless, dark-haired stranger who perplexed her more than anything.
She strained her eyes to focus on his mouth. There they were: the trails of fresh blood making their way down his chin. Her eyes widened, and she screamed with all her might.
**********
Rayne's eyes popped open, heart beating out of control and unable to catch her breath. She sat up, and it took more than a second for her to realize she was not in her own room. Her sleep-fogged mind tried to take in everything at once and failed miserably.
The dream. Searching the dense blackness of the room, she wasn't at all surprised to see the familiar silhouette lurking in the corner. Even away from her apartment, she could not shake him. Her hallucination had followed her across the country.
She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment and opened them to find it still there. She repeated it several more times, trying to blink him away. Her stomach sank and she felt as though someone had just punched her in the gut. She couldn't force her lungs to expand and draw in the air she needed to scream, though it wouldn't have mattered if she had or not. He was on her in a split-second, pinning her to the mattress and covering her mouth with his hand. The other came up to restrain her arms above her head.
This isn't happening. She was awake. She knew she wasn't dreaming this time.
"You're quite sexy when you moan in your sleep like that." He dipped his head down further, pressing his nose to her collarbone and dragging it up her neck.
"You smell divine," he moaned. "I bet the boss won't mind if I have a little taste."
Something wet touched her neck just below the ear, and she felt the bile rising in her throat. Tears streamed down her face in an instant replay of her nightmare. Her attacker shifted slightly, and she felt something sharp at her neck.
A knife? She screamed against his hand. Where is Camden? Why did he let this happen?
A sharp pain pierced her neck, and she bit down on his hand.
"You bitch!" he yelled as he jerked his hand back.
"Camden!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Before his name had completely left her lips, there was a jolt of impact, and the attacker was thrown sideways off her. They tumbled to the floor with movements so fast her eyes could not keep up.
She scrambled off the bed and lunged for the door, leaving behind the sounds of impact, grunting, and cursing. Stumbling into the main area of the suite, lit only by a single lamp near the sofa, she searched the room for somewhere to hide. In her hysteria, she barely registered the feel of warm liquid rolling down her neck. Her hand shot up to cover the wound and she ran for the door.
She'd only made it a few steps before it swung open, and Connor appeared in front of her. He, like Camden, moved so fast it was impossible to follow. "Are you ok?" he asked.
She nodded, still holding her neck.
Connor reached over and pushed open the bathroom door. "Get in here, lock the door, and do not open it until one of us comes to get you," he said sternly.
Rayne nodded and quickly locked herself inside. Somewhere on the other side, she could hear glass shattering. Backing away from the door in the darkness, she bumped into the counter and let herself slide to the floor. Pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her chin upon them and tried to control her breathing and fear.
A few sobs escaped her throat, and she was afraid she would be heard. Her heart must have been beating a million times a minute. She lost the battle to catch her breath as fear twisted her insides. She nervously ran her hands over her face and felt the slick trail of fluid left in its wake.
Reaching up, she grabbed the towel hanging on the rack and wadded it into a ball. She pressed it to her neck, wincing when it stung. A few minutes ticked away like hours, and it finally grew quiet.
Is it over? Are they hurt? Climbing to her feet, she silently inched toward the door. Her eyes never left the thin strip of light filtering in from beneath as she strained her ears for any signs of life.
She watched in horror as a shadow passed through the narrow beam. Holding her breath, she clutched the towel and waited.
The shadow moved again, and a deep voice came from the other side. "Rayne?"
Camden! She flung open the door and blindly threw herself at him.
Camden opened his arms and caught her just as she came barreling out of the bathroom. He held her in a strong embrace, and try as she might, she couldn't stop the tears. Rayne buried her face in his chest and let them flow freely. She wasn't sure if it was from the adrenaline or relief, but her emotional dam had burst.
Camden's strong hands gently stroked her back as he rested his chin atop her head. He inhaled deeply, possibly a sigh of relief, and held her for a moment before pushing her to arm's length and dipping his head to look her in the eyes. "Are you Ok?" he asked.
Rayne nodded and wiped away the tears.
His eyes roamed her body, checking for himself, and he couldn't stop them from widening in shock when they rested on the blood-stained towel in her hand. He reached down and jerked it from her.
"It's ok. It's just a scratch," she said quietly.
He glanced to her neck. "Shit!" he cursed and turned away from her to run his hands through his hair, frustrated. He paced back and forth in front of her a few times, cursing here and there, and successfully freaked her out.
"I'm fine, Camden. It's not even bleeding anymore." She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
Camden turned and gave her a look she couldn't quite decipher. It had to be a combination of anger, fear, and dread. The two still stood in front of the bathroom, and he used it to his advantage. Reaching inside, he flipped the light switch and gently guided Rayne toward the mirror. He moved her long auburn hair to one side and tilted her head just slightly so she could view the spot.
There, on the smooth creamy skin of her neck, were two perfectly round puncture marks, and four red indentions between them. Her green eyes widened in realization, and she moved closer to get a better look.
She turned to him with confusion and disbelief written all over her face, before returning to the mirror to confirm what she was really seeing. "Is that...?" she asked, near panic as she looked to Camden one last time.
He stared for a moment, then barely nodded.
"He bit me?!" she yelled.
Rayne shook her head and searched his face for answers. "Why would he...?"
She was cut off by his hands on her shoulders and the stern look she received. "You need to sit down," he said calmly.
Rayne was furious. The last thing she wanted to do was sit down. What if he had some kind of disease? I need to get to the hospital now and get tested for everything!
"I don't want to sit down," she said loudly.
Her fists balled at her sides, and she was about to continue with her rant, but halted when Camden held up his hands. "Rayne, trust me. There are some things I need to explain, and I really think you should sit down."
She wanted to argue with him, but his expression wasn't quite right. He was hiding something. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and strode toward the sofa. Sitting on the very edge, her eyes followed his every move as he came to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
She was no longer scared or upset. No, she was mad... mad as hell. There were things being hidden from her and now she knew it for a fact. But that's going to change.
Camden wouldn't look at her at first. He sat forward and stared at the beige carpet for a good while before he allowed their gazes to meet.
Rayne didn't like it. "What is it?" she asked.
He didn't answer, only stared.
"Dammit, Camden! Just tell me!" she spat.
Camden finally took a deep breath. "I haven't been completely honest with you."
Rayne sat back on the couch and narrowed her eyes. Her stomach felt as though it had dropped out of her body, and the anxiousness made her heart skip a beat. Is this the part where he comes out and admits that he's been the stalker all along, and now I'll never see the light of day again?
"What do you mean?" she managed to choke out.
There was a long pause. "The guy that attacked you...was a vampire."
She stared, unmoving, before bursting into laughter.
He was joking, right?
When his expression didn't change and he didn't laugh, her smile faded, and mixture of anger and shock replaced it.
"You don't really expect me to believe that do you?"
His look was dead serious. "I'm a vampire, Rayne." His deep voice broke the silence.
She couldn't stop herself from laughing again. "Good one."
She stood and turned to leave, but his hand shot out to grab her wrist. His lips moved as if he were going hiss like a cat and two long white fangs popped out of nowhere.
Her knees went weak, and she was thankful that the sofa was right behind her. The color drained from her face, and she sank backwards onto the cushion, staring wide-eyed. That was all her body was capable of.
Shaking her head and brows furrowed in question, she leaned forward. "But how?" Her breathing became erratic, and the threat of hyperventilation drew nearer.
"Vampires don't exist. It's a myth, a legend."
Camden closed his mouth, but the fangs were still barely visible at the corners. "I promise you, as much as I would like it to be a myth, it's not."
She shook her head again, not believing what she was hearing. "But you were walking around in the sun. Aren't vampires supposed to burst into flames or dust or something like that?" she asked.
He held up his hands. "Let's take it slow. I just need you to understand and believe me. Vampires are real. Connor and I both fall into that category."
She leaned back on the sofa. He was telling the truth. Her head was spinning out of control, and she couldn't get it to slow down long enough for her to catch up.
And then it dawned on her. Her hand flew to her neck and the other covered her mouth. "Am I going to turn into one?" she asked, the sound slightly muffled by her hand.
This time it was Camden who laughed. "It's a little more complicated than that. You're not turning into a vampire."
She sighed, and her body visibly relaxed a little. "Good."
There was another stretch of awkward silence, and the longer she sat there, the more her anger and fear faded into curiosity. His revelation did not make her afraid of him. Camden had already stayed in her apartment, they'd flown across the country together, and he'd just saved her life. If he really wanted her dead, there had been plenty of opportunities. She bit her lower lip as she sat forward. "Do you really drink blood?"
He raised an eyebrow in amusement and smiled. There was a fleeting moment where his relief was evident. Camden sighed and prepared himself for the barrage of questions he knew was coming. It was always the same. Well, almost.
Once people found out the truth, they were first skeptical, then fearful. If they really believed him, they usually would run for their lives and never speak of their conversation, but not Rayne. She went from fearful straight into curious. There was no middle zone for her. He shook his head and chuckled. "Yes. Our bodies will not process or metabolize anything else."
She thought back to him cooking in her kitchen, trying to remember if he'd eaten. Now that she thought about it, she never actually saw him take a bite. She'd just assumed. "Where do you get the blood?" she asked quietly, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.
He shrugged. "It depends." He stood and crossed the room, looking as though he were anxious.
Is he nervous?
He stopped and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Some of us have connections in the medical field and can get units of blood that have been donated. Some decide to go what we like to call 'vegan,' and use animal blood. It does the job for a while, but tastes terrible, and after extended periods of time, our bodies will begin to deteriorate. Others have donors that trade blood."
Rayne wrinkled her forehead in confusion. "What do you mean trade blood? Trade blood for what?"
Camden crossed his arms over his chest, and she couldn't help but notice the way the posture made his muscles bulge. Her mouth instantly went dry.
Somehow, just knowing that he was some kind of powerful predator had just upped his hotness factor exponentially. She shook the thought from her mind and tried to focus on the conversation at hand.
He twisted his mouth in thought. "What's the best way to explain this?" He crossed the room back to his original position on the coffee table. "Vampire blood is very strong, like a drug. It makes you feel faster and stronger. An adrenaline rush, I guess you could say. It also can help you to heal quicker, but the rest is really just an illusion. Sort of like a rush of endorphins or a euphoric state."
Rayne nodded and scooted closer to him.
"Some humans are recruited and agree to be fed off of, in turn for vampire blood."
Rayne agreed. "Well, then that sounds like the best way to go."
He held up a hand. "There is a downside... for humans anyway." He paused. "It's very addictive, with as little as just a few tastes. A person can become so addicted that they literally cannot function without it."
Her eyes widened and she nodded. "Yeah. Not so good." She bit her lower lip in thought before she proceeded. "What about you?"
Camden looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly five AM. "I think we should go ahead and get going. We can talk more later."
Rayne opened her mouth to protest, but the way he stood and was across the room before she could speak let her know that the conversation was indeed over. She stared at the door in silent shock. It was just as well. She hadn't actually wanted to know the answer anyway. What she did know was that this whole situation had just gotten a little more interesting.