The Vampire King's Feeder

The Guards Move In

Emory

“Well, what do we have here?”

The snarl from the squatty guard filling the majority of my doorway is enough to set my teeth on edge as my shifter body longs to call forth my wolf to defend myself.

Unfortunately, I’m not quite old enough for that yet and will have to rely upon my other fighting skills to protect myself.

As my eyes meet his, I can’t help but pull myself to standing, my hands fisted at my sides. He is short, a bit overweight, it appears, with dark hair, a beard, and those light eyes that look like they’re almost sightless. He can see me, though. I feel his eyes roaming all over me.

He’s not alone either. Two other guards flank him, one tall and the other with a medium build and a bit of muscle. They all wear the same gray uniforms I’ve seen on the other guards who work in this part of the castle. It fits the overall ambiance of a dismal, lifeless existence the prisoners here have come to know.

I can’t think about any of them right now, though. None of them are going to be able to come and help me. They are all too weak and have their own concerns to occupy what’s left of their minds.

“Well, look at that,” the first guard says as he enters the room, the others following him. “She thinks she’s gonna fight us. Ain’t that cute?”

“She best know it’s illegal for her to shift down here,” the tall one says. “If she does, we’ll have no choice but to kill her—after we have our way with her.”

His words make my skin crawl. It’s fairly clear to me now that they intend to do more than just feed off of me.

“I’ve got the injection right here,” the other guy says, patting his pocket. I know they carry shots of wolfsbane and silver nitrate with them that are meant to incapacitate or kill us. I don’t want to find out which, but if that’s what happens, so be it.

“I got her injection right here,” the short guy says, only it’s not his pocket he’s patting. He grabs his balls and shakes them at me, making a lewd face, and they all three laugh. “Grab ‘er for me, fellas.”

“Ah, how come you always get to go first?” the tall one asks, giving me a moment to consider my strategy. “I’m tired of your sloppy seconds.”

“Or thirds,” the other one says.

It’s clear that the short one is the leader here, though. He must’ve been made fun of for his height as a child. Perhaps that’s why he is so evil now. That, or maybe he’s just an asshole.

“Stop your whining, jackasses,” he says. “Now get her.”

They move toward me, and I am ready. I kick the tall guy in the stomach while I lash out with my hand and catch the other one in the throat. They both sputter, but they’re not completely caught off guard, which makes me think I’m not the first woman to try and fight against them. They manage to grab me by my arms as the third one keeps me from trying to run out the door.

“Nice try, b***h,” he says. “But you’re not getting away from us.” He laughs again, sticking his tongue out at me and licking his lips as he unfastens his pants and pulls them down in the front to expose himself.

This is the first manhood I’ve ever seen, and while I am disgusted and terrified, part of me also wants to laugh because he is so tiny. I can’t help but say, “I guess it’s more than just your stature that is short.”

The other two guys break into fierce laughter as shorty fumes, his face turning a hue of pink I didn’t think a vampire capable of. “What the f**k did you say, little b***h?” he asks me. “You f****d up now, you cunt!” He comes at me as the other two strengthen their grips on my arms, and it is honestly just what I need to perform one of the moves I’ve perfected in training.

As he comes toward me, I use his torso as a stepladder, twisting my body so that my feet go over the top of my head at the same time as I bring my arms together. It burns in the places where they have their grips on my skin, and in my shoulder blades, but when I hear their skulls whack into one another, it’s worth it, especially when they let go.

While the one with his d**k out is still stunned, I slam my boot into the crotch of the taller one who is lying on the floor to my right and into the gut of the other one who is lying on my left. Then, as quickly as I can, I advance on the d**k, kicking him hard in the abdomen and driving him back against the wall near the bed. He is struggling to recover as I grab hold of his tiny p***s and his balls with one hand and twist and pull. He lets out an earsplitting scream, so high pitched, he sounds like a woman in labor, a sound I have heard from all of the births I’ve attended with my mother over the years, one of her duties as Luna, and while it hurts my ears, I don’t let go, not even when the other two get up off of the floor and come at me.

I kick out behind me, connecting with the taller one in the face, knocking him against the wall, and hitting the other one with a second kick right in the throat. They both tumble down onto the ground as I turn to the asshole in front of me and headbutt him as hard as I can in the nose.

A crack is followed by a spirt of blood which tells me he must’ve eaten recently. I let go of his privates and am about to toss him across the room when I hear hurried footsteps at the open door and know my battle is just beginning.

Of course, they’ve likely used their telepathic powers to call for help. I keep one hand on the d**k as I turn to the door ready to kick who ever walks in first, but just as my foot goes up, I see a flash of familiar black hair and pull my boot back. He wraps his hand around my foot to protect himself, and the two of us move in a sort of semicircle that leaves me off balance and falling toward the bed.

As quick as a bolt of lightning, King Kane lets go of my foot and thrusts his hand out to catch me. He loops it around my waist and stares down at me, his blue eyes wide with confusion as he grapples with the situation.

All I can mumble is, “Oh, fuck.” I’m screwed now. The king just walked in to find me beating the living s**t out of three of his guards. He won’t care that they were trying to rape me.

But then, what the hell is he doing here?

He doesn’t respond to my muttered curse as he lets me drop onto the bed and looks at the three mangled guards.

“What the actual hell is going on here?” he asks.

The two that I knocked across the room manage to pull themselves to their feet first, looking like s**t. They are bleeding, their clothes torn, and they certainly have some broken bones. They both bow low at the waist, but neither of them is answering his question.

By the time the third one scrambles to standing, he has recovered slightly. Blood still drips down his face. “She… attacked us, Your Majesty,” he says.

I open my mouth to protest, but it isn’t necessary as King Kane quickly asks, “Then why the f**k are your trousers down around your ankles?”

His mouth opens and closes several times like a fish out of water, but there’s no answer he can give short of the truth, and it seems clear to me that if he tells the king he was trying to rape me, he will most certainly be in trouble, which actually makes me quite glad to hear. I was afraid the king might condone, or at the very least, turn a blind eye to such behaviors. I can tell by his tone that I was mistaken. He isn’t happy at all.

I feel his gaze on me before I turn to see him looking at me. “Did they harm you?” he asks me.

I know I have some bruises on my arms and maybe a few scratches, but I am confident when I shake my head. “No, Sir.”

He stares at me for a long moment, and I feel a chill pass down my spine, something I can’t quite explain. His eyes seem to penetrate far deeper than anyone’s I’ve ever gazed into before, but I can’t pull mine away.

A moment later, Rainer is in the doorway, sliding to halt. “Holy f**k,” he mumbles, looking at the three of them before he looks at me. “Emory! Are you okay?”

I can hear true concern in his voice. “I’m fine,” I assure him.

A low rumble escapes King Kane’s throat, and at first I am confused as to why his friend asking me if I’m okay would bother him, but then I realize he’s just angry in general. “Rainer, take these three assholes to lockdown. I want them castrated or killed. Their choice. I don’t care. They either lose their d***s or their heads.”

“Yes, Sir,” Rainer says, then ads, “although I think castration means they lose their balls.”

King Kane growls again. “I am aware. Do it now.” Then, turning to me, he says, “You—come with me.”

I feel my heart lurch into my throat as I realize he is probably angry at me for causing such a fuss in his dungeon. I say nothing as I climb to my feet and follow him out the door.

As I pass him, Rainer says, “I’m so glad you’re all right and Kane got there in time to protect you.”

I almost laugh. He thinks the king did that? Instead, I just say, “Thank you.”

It’s the king who corrects him. “She’s the one who beat the hell out of them, dumbass.” He says the last word like it’s a term of endearment. I see Rainer’s eyes widen as I shrug and turn to follow the king.

I have no idea where we are going, but I imagine it’s just another cell. We pass all of them in this section, and he stops at the same guard station that Clark stopped at to ask what cell to take me to. The man standing there is different but looks equally disinterested in life in general until he sees the king and bows his head.

“Never in my life have I seen such deplorable conditions,” he begins, keeping his tone even, though he’s clearly mad. “This is not at all what this place is supposed to be like! These people are PEOPLE, and they deserve to be treated as such.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’m just—”

Now, King Kane is mad. “I don’t give a f**k what your station is, soldier! You work here, it’s your responsibility to take care of them!” He slams his fist down into the podium and it splinters, breaking into several pieces. “I want this place cleaned up immediately! These people need to be allowed to shower whenever they’d like. They need proper nutrition, proper lighting, proper activities! I will send someone to oversee this, but as for now, I want all of you working on this nonstop until it’s better, do you hear me?”

His shouting has drawn a crowd, and as I look around, I see that there are at least ten other guards listening in, all of them looking embarrassed and afraid.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the first guard says, and then so do the others.

He gives a nod, his breathing still uneven and moves toward the exit again. This time, he reaches behind him to grab my arm and pulls me along. “Come on, Emory.”

I have no choice but to go—but I’m glad when we begin to ascend the stairs. I have no idea where we are going—but it can’t be worse than this place.

Can it?