Thankfully, it didn’t creak like something out of a horror movie.
The brush of icy air from beyond the big ass door hit like a sledgehammer. Fuck, it would be more comfortable to try and take a piss in an ice storm. I stole a look back at the fur blanket on the bed. I was tempted to steal it.
But I wasn’t an asshole.
Most days.
Clenching my teeth against chattering, I hobbled out and pulled the door closed to keep from freezing them to death. The hallway had one long shadowy crypt like feeling going on. The shudders wracking my spine had nothing to do with the cold. It was old here. Too old.
Ancient whispers drifted along the hallway.
Yeah, that wasn’t creepy.
Arms folded over my breasts even if my nipples could probably cut diamonds they were so stiff, I tossed a mental coin. Pivoting left, I hurried along. The place had a bathing room. Maybe the toilets were there.
The heavy fucking doors were all through this section. Some gave with a good shove, others just held like they were made of iron. I found two more bedrooms, no bathrooms.
Okay. Think Fi.
I couldn’t feel the bottoms of my feet anymore, which was probably good, hopefully my bladder would freeze before I peed. It was bad enough I was running around bare-ass naked covered in spunk and flecks of dried blood. At the thought of the dried come, I swore my pussy flexed.
“Enough of that,” I informed myself. “You should be nursing a pulled muscle after all of that. Or three.” It certainly felt like I was. Not that I was complaining. At the end of the hall, I pushed open the last door and nearly wept.
It wasn’t quite the porcelain altar of the Ritz with a fancy French bidet, but it was a working toilet with a tile floor, and rough amenities. There was even a shower stall. I flushed the toilet once to make sure it worked.
Since my breath kept fogging, I was surprised the pipes weren’t frozen. The water swirled away, and I grimaced as I settled on the seat.
Nope. Fuck that.
Too cold. I squatted.
I don’t care how unattractive it might look or how much my core complained. At least the prison had access to a toilet without walking through the wilderness of a keep to find it.
A keep in the wilderness.
A sudden longing for my house on the cliff with its floor to ceiling windows and ocean views flooded me. Southern California was so temperate. Getting cold there would take some serious effort.
Unlike this gothic monolithic nightmare.
A long sigh escaped me as I relieved myself. Seriously, it took me a while to pee. I would probably be dehydrated at this rate. It didn’t matter, the relief was so profound, it was nearly orgasmic.
Eh.
Maybe not that good.
Still, it was damn nice.
Finished, I cleaned up and flushed again, then moved to the sink. What were the chances of hot water in here? As much as I ached, I’d rather go find that hedonistic bathing chamber I’d been in the day before.
I’d also like some damn privacy.
I debated finding my way back to the guys or striking out to explore. The rest of me was rapidly growing numb, too. How long did it take frostbite to kick in?
There was no mirror over the sink. Well, I didn’t really care what I looked like at the moment. Probably better not to scare myself. I did, however, rinse out my mouth. No toothpaste or even a toothbrush—not that I would borrow one of their toothbrushes. Suck their dick? No problem. Use their toothbrush? Gag.
With a finger, I scrubbed at my teeth, then wet my mouth and spit a few times. Not great, but between the icy water and my finger, it helped.
Top of the list, toiletries.
Second item on that list, clothes preferably, including a fucking parka.
Where was this asinine place anyway?
Once in the hall, I stared back the way I came then cocked my head toward the stairs.
Vampires were supposed to have really sharp hearing, right?
So I focused.
Yeah.
I couldn’t hear much more than the faint whistle of wind from somewhere and the sound of my own breathing. Yeah. Impressive I was not. The lack of emotion was also telling. Every living thing possessed some form of lust. A lust for life, a lust for food, sometimes a lust for their next breath. Even the most devout possessed a lust for something. Shockingly enough, a lust for charity and a lust to do good things could