"I know this can't stop you, but I bet it still hurts," he said. "And I know it will slow you down. So, do what you're told and I won't have to shoot you. We're going to your office."
Etienne felt mingled relief and horror course through him. There was blood in his fridge in his office. He could replenish and repair quickly with it once locked in. He could then get out and hunt Pudge down. His horror was because while this plan saved him, it left Rachel in jeopardy. He had no idea what the man would do with her once he had options, but he assumed it would be villainous. Rachel was ten times stronger than she used to be, but she wasn't invulnerable. Etienne feared she would try something risky after he was safely tucked away.
"Move!" Pudge added an exclamation mark by shooting him.
Etienne grunted and jerked backward where he sat on the bed. The bullet had torn through muscle and bone. He saw Rachel begin to struggle, only to stop almost as abruptly in the next moment. He understood why when he noted the line of blood at her throat. The bastard had cut her--not deep enough to do serious injury, but he had cut her just the same.
Etienne felt rage course through him, enough to help him gain his feet. He wanted to fly across the room at the man, but he might be useless once he got there. Besides, there was a possibility Pudge might panic and cut her head off, removing her as a threat. Etienne couldn't allow that.
Rachel gritted her teeth but ground out, "I told you I wouldn't allow you to kill him. If you shoot him again, I'll risk losing my head to kill you."
"Shut up," Pudge hissed, but some of his confidence left him. Gesturing at Etienne with his rifle, he backed out of the door, dragging Rachel with him. "Out."
Etienne moved dutifully toward the door, trying not to look as weak as he felt. He was in serious need of blood now, thanks to the newest wound. His thinking processes were becoming muzzy as his body drew blood from the rest of his system. It took all his concentration to keep putting one foot in front of the other to lead the way through the house and down to the basement. Etienne kept trying to think of a way out of this situation as he moved, but nothing came to mind--nothing that wouldn't jeopardize Rachel further, at any rate.
"Wow!" Pudge was obviously impressed with Etienne's work station. Etienne paused in the middle of the room and turned to watch the man's eyes light up as they roamed over his equipment.
"Man, if I had a setup like this, I'd be the king of games, too," he said resentfully. Then his gaze landed on the coffin to the side of the door and something else entered his expression. It took Etienne several minutes to realize it was envy.
"Get in it," he ordered.
Etienne hesitated, then did as he was told as the man jerked his rifle upward. Rachel shifted with a warning growl. Pudge immediately lowered the gun and controlled her by causing another red line of beaded blood where the first had just finished healing.
"I'm going," Etienne snapped, promising himself he'd repay the man for those wounds soon.
"Close the lid," Pudge instructed once he was seated inside.
Etienne did as he was told, reclining in the coffin and reluctantly pulling the lid closed. Then he jerked inside the coffin at the sudden explosion of gunfire. At first he thought the idiot was shooting him through the coffin, but when there was no exploding wood and no tearing pain, he decided the fellow was shooting up the room. The boom of either a monitor or a computer exploding verified this, and Etienne grimaced at the scent of burning circuits and melting plastic.
Chapter Fourteen
Rachel bit her lip, but she remained still as Etienne's machinery exploded around her. Pudge was enthusiastic with his gun, and the knife at her throat was pressed too tight for her to do anything. She was relieved when he finally decided he'd done enough damage and backed them out of the room.
At the door, he stopped to examine the locking mechanism. She had rather hoped he would just close it, but he wasn't that stupid. He pulled it closed, then shot up the electrical panel. Any hope that Etienne would be able to fix the panel died when Pudge then ripped it and several wires out willy-nilly. Etienne truly was locked in there, Rachel thought with dismay, and just hoped that none of the destroyed equipment started a fire. Burning to death wouldn't be a pleasant way to go, and it was the way Etienne's father had died.
Yet he had blood in there, she assured herself, grateful that Pudge hadn't examined the desk drawers. And no doubt Bastien and Lucern would visit later. They would set Etienne free and then probably come after her. She just had to stay alive in the meantime. Which would have been easier if Pudge didn't know she was a vampire.
Keeping her head attached to her body would be a good start. She'd like to do more, however--like keeping him from cutting her again. The thin slices he had inflicted so far hadn't even come close to endangering her life, but they hurt like crazy. Apparently being turned didn't mean lessening sensitivity to pain. It even increased her sensitivity, she realized. After all, she was more sensitive to pleasure. Why not equally more sensitive to pain?
"Damn."
Rachel gave up considering at Pudge's curse. They had traversed the stairs and were now standing in the kitchen at the back door.
"I forgot I can't take you out in sunlight," Pudge explained.
Rachel brightened. She could survive a few moments of sunlight but was hardly willing to tell him that. "Well, you could just leave me here and--"
Her words died as he dragged her backward to the kitchen table. She wasn't sure what he was up to until he ripped the heavy maroon tablecloth off the table, sending the floral arrangement smashing to the floor.
"You don't think you're going to... You are." She blew her breath out with a sigh as he drew the cloth over her head. Now she had a knife at her throat and was blind. Jeez, it just got better and better. This was even more dangerous. If she stumbled, she might behead herself. Rachel considered telling Pudge that she could survive a little sunlight but feared she might need the knowledge later.
"We're going to move quickly." He urged her forward, presumably toward the door. "I don't want you bursting into flames now, so try to keep up."
"Do you think you could ease up with the knife?" she asked, but the question was drowned out by the click and squeak of the door. Then Pudge was rushing her forward. Aware that any misstep could cost her her life, Rachel frog-marched, keeping her feet up but moving as quickly as she could. Despite her best efforts, she stumbled, grunting as the knife sliced her throat. It managed a deeper cut this time before it was eased away. She heard what might have been an apology muffled by both the cloth over her head and the ringing in her ears; then he jerked her to a halt.
"Get in."
The knife was pulled away, and Rachel felt herself shoved forward and down. Something pressed against the front of her legs, and she tumbled forward. Grateful the knife was no longer threatening her, Rachel immediately began to try to drag the cloth off her head. She received a smack for her efforts.