I’d never, ever forgive him for forcing my body to betray me again and again thus making me hate myself more than I hated him.
We were deep in the bowels of the city (and “bowels” was an aptly descriptive word), when he turned into an alley.
I didn’t normally hang in alleys but if I were to choose one this one would be near the bottom of the list.
Lucien slowed to a stop and all of a sudden from out of nowhere a man jumped toward the car.
I couldn’t control my surprised gasp.
Lucien’s hand flexed on the inside of my thigh and he murmured, “It’s all right, pet.”
I forced myself to turn and nod at him as if I trusted him with my very life even though I did not. His latest maneuver of driving me down a dank alley was proof positive why I shouldn’t.
My door was flung open and a hand was shoved through.
I shrank from it as I heard a stranger say, “Milady.”
“Take his hand, Leah,” Lucien ordered and I didn’t want to, I really didn’t want to, but I did.
The stranger helped me out of the car. He was shorter than me, wiry to the point of being gaunt and I guessed he was younger than me by at least a decade.
He was paying me no attention even as he cautiously steered me clear of the door before he slammed it to.
His eyes were hungry on Lucien who had alighted out the other side. Very hungry. Creepy hungry.
How incredibly weird.
“Wats,” Lucien said before he casually tossed the keys to his absurdly expensive sports car to a man who resembled a tramp who had just had a clean at the shelter where he’d been given ill-fitting clothes and a not so good haircut.
“Master,” the man panted upon catching the keys, his eyes glued to Lucien and I felt a sick feeling crawl through the pit of my stomach.
Faster than a flash Lucien was at my side, his fingers firm at my elbow, drawing me away from the stranger. The man’s eyes flickered to me before moving devotedly back to Lucien.
“Like they’re all saying, she’s beautiful, Master,” he breathed, leaning into Lucien but holding himself back, quite obviously wary, excited, petrified all at the same time.
I looked up to Lucien to see he was regarding the man with barely concealed revulsion.
“Take care of the car, Wats,” Lucien ordered. Wats nodded, still panting while he backed away, slightly bowing like a mad scientist’s deformed lackey in a bad horror movie.
Lucien moved me toward a door and I followed.
I wanted to ask about Wats but I didn’t. I wanted to run screaming into the night but I didn’t.
Crazily, I also wanted to throw myself in Lucien’s arms and beg him to f**k me against the wall in the alley.
I most certainly didn’t do that.
The door opened before we arrived, a similar character to Wats but rounder, older, with a thick beard and a mess of long, tangled hair was holding the door wide.
“Master,” he whispered reverently, his eyes dropping as if he was too lowly a creature to gaze upon the magnificence of Lucien and my stomach twisted nauseatingly.
“Breed,” Lucien murmured his greeting not even glancing the man’s way, leading me by him and into a dark hall that almost immediately led to stairs going down.
The door closed behind us and I barely controlled my desire to jump or cry out. We started descending the stairs side-by-side and Lucien still hadn’t taken his hand from my arm.
“We get to The Feast, pet, you aren’t outside touching distance from me unless I specifically allow it. Am I understood?”
Oh my God.