Wicked Soul

Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

LIV

I’d always known vampires were real, of course.

Everyone did.

After they revealed their existence to humans in ‘72, everyone had been painfully aware that the undead walked among us.

It was just that I, like most people, had never seen one. And we counted ourselves lucky for it.

I stared at my once-again sleeping cellmate, unable to calm my racing pulse.

Suddenly, my kidnappers’ snide remarks made gruesome sense. They’d tossed me in here to feed him. I was a goddamn snack!

Mother of all things holy, what was wrong with those people? Sure, I’d known they were crazy—k********g random people off the street kind of gives off that vibe. But this? Feeding live humans to their… their pet vampire? Who even thought about keeping a pet vampire? And why were they feeding him humans?

I desperately searched the cage for something—anything—to defend myself, but there was nothing. They’d made sure there was nothing in there but him and me. And two hours until sunset.

I’d like to say that I spent the last two hours of my life MacGyvering a makeshift weapon strong enough to take on a vampire, or even meditating over my life’s accomplishments, but I’d be lying.

I spent the entire time pressing my body up against the bars and quivering like a leaf, I don’t want to die! running on repeat in my panicked brain while I stared at my dark-haired killer-to-be.

It was both the longest and the shortest two hours of my life.

When the vampire’s dark eyes opened once again, there was a different sort of awareness in his gaze than when I’d forced him awake earlier in the day. Probably the difference between a vampire before and after dark.

Neat. I get exciting, anthropological knowledge of vampires before I die! I didn’t manage to clamp down on the hysterical giggle before it bubbled out between my lips, shattering the silence between us.

The vampire raised a single, dark eyebrow in question.

I made a vague gesture between us, inexplicably compelled to explain my behavior. He was probably more familiar with uncontrollable sobbing. “S-sorry, it’s just… Everyone always want to know more about vampires, and here I am, getting some quality one-on-one time. I’ll be the envy of the entire Internet!” Another shrill giggle escaped me.

“You’re an odd one, aren’t you?” His face never changed from the blank expression, but his tone was tinged with curiosity.

I flailed a hand in the empty space between us again, offense taking over my hysteria. “Well, excuse me for not knowing the right etiquette for getting eaten alive. It’s not exactly something I do every other Saturday.”

He sighed, seemingly losing interest in me as he swiveled around to stare blankly into the room behind the bars without getting up from his seated position. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Aren’t you hungry?”

The vampire turned his head to give me an incredulous stare.

“I mean, I’m not offering!” I quickly amended. “I’m just pretty sure I’ve not been tossed in here to be your bridge partner, is all.”

He gave a snort of amusement, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips. “Nevertheless… I will not harm you, little one.”

“So... You’ve eaten recently? Do they toss women in here often then?” Oh my goddess, why are you still talking? You don’t want to know about his diet, for crying out loud! Shut up!

“They do not.” His tone was flat, but he didn’t turn back around to stare at the basement again, his eyes taking in my still-quivering form with something akin to curiosity. “You are the first. May I ask why?”

I blinked. “You’re asking me why I got kidnapped and used as a vampire snack?”

He gave a single nod, a patient expression on his solemn face.

I opened my mouth to explain how I’d been minding my own business, reading a book, when the oafs took offense to my choice of literature, but managed to stop myself in time. Suddenly, when faced with an actual nightwalker, confessing to enjoying the occasional smutty vampire romance seemed more than a little embarrassing.

“Well, why’d they capture you?” I asked.

“They don’t like vampires,” he answered, even though we both knew my question was pretty ridiculous. The stakes on the walls made it obvious they fancied themselves some sort of delusional vampire slayers. I’d heard rumors about people like that—people who took on the night creatures, vigilante-style—but I’d never thought they’d actually ever capture any of them. The people who made YouTube videos about how to “capture vamps” tended to look like they’d have trouble putting on pants in the morning.

“But how?” I pried, my initial fear of him waning now that it didn’t look like I was going to end up as dinner. “Aren’t you supposed to be super strong and fast?”

His eyebrow quirked again, and I had the good grace to blush when I realized how rude that must have sounded.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you’re a failure of a vampire or anything. Just…” My voice died at his stare. “Sorry.”

“You ask a lot of questions for a human who thinks I’m going to eat her,” he said.

“Excuse me for trying to make the most of a shitty situation,” I snapped in reply.

He softened his tone. “I apologize. I did not mean to offend.” Still, a ghost of a smile lurked at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re an odd one too,” I said, frowning at his youthful face. “You don’t want to eat me, and you apologize for offending me. No offense, but you’re not at all what I’d imagined vampires to be like.”

His expression didn’t change, but with another sigh, he turned all the way back around toward me. “Let me guess—you imagined a beast who would break your neck and slake his thirst with your lifeblood?”

I felt another blush heat up my face. “Well, yeah. That or… you know. The other kind.”

He frowned. “The other kind?”

“Er…” Flashes from my book appeared before my mind’s eye—the kind containing breathy moans, heaving breasts, and a lot of neck sucking. “Never mind. Look, please don’t take this the wrong way—I’m very happy you don’t want to eat me and all, but… why not? I’ve always heard vampires are insatiable. Do I… do I not smell appetizing?”

This time, he laughed. It was deep and rumbly, and surprisingly pleasant to listen to for the few seconds it rang through the basement.

“A doe who worries the lion does not find it appetizing,” he murmured, an amused twitch still playing at the corner of his mouth. “That’s a first.”

“I am not a doe,” I huffed, fighting back the warm tinge heating my cheeks. “And I’m not worried. Just… curious. I’ve got so many questions, and… well, this is sort of a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me.”

His blue gaze was fixed on my face, expressionless, and it dawned on me I’d probably committed yet another faux pas.

“Um, I mean… it’s only a once-in-a-lifetime chance if you want to answer my questions, of course. I can’t force you. Uh… I just… you know, want to make the best of a bad situation and… stuff?” I grimaced. “Sorry, there’s probably a reason vampires don’t do interviews in People magazine. You value your privacy—shrouded in a veil of mystery, and all that. Forget I asked.”

The silence spread between us, seeming so much heavier in the wake of my unhinged babbling.

“You didn’t ask,” he said at last.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t ask me your questions.”

“Oh!” I couldn’t suppress my wide and immediate grin of elation. “You mean I can…? You don’t mind?”

He leaned back a bit, supporting his weight on his hands. “I cannot promise I will answer them, but you may ask—if, in return, you will answer my questions.”

I blinked, surprised a nightwalker was even remotely interested in knowing anything about me. I didn’t exactly lead the most interesting life. “Yeah, sure. That seems fair.” I hesitated, weighing what would be the least offensive question to start off with. I wasn’t about to let this once-in-a-lifetime chance slip through my fingers by accidentally offending the stoic young man in front of me.

“All right, so… coffins? Do you all really sleep in them, or…?”

The vampire’s sensitive lips twitched, giving his eyes an amused gleam. “It’s not overly common, no.”

“Oh.” Well, there went centuries of vampire myth down the drain. “Where do you sleep, then?”

“I prefer a bed.”

I don’t know what I’d expected—upside-down in a cave like a bat, maybe. But a bed? It sounded so… normal. “I thought you slept in the ground?”

“It happens.” Judging from the amused twist of his mouth, my disappointment was visible on my face. “But if we do, it’s usually with nothing but the dirt around us. Is it my turn?”

“Sure.” I leaned back against the bars of our makeshift prison. “Ask away.”

“What’s your name?”

A rush of shame stemming back from my Midwestern upbringing spread across my face. How had my first question not been his name? He might be a vampire, but that didn’t excuse bad manners. I could practically feel Grandma’s ruler cracking down across my knuckles in disapproval.

“Liv. Olivia Green,” I answered.

“Liv?” he asked. Something sparked in his eyes, curiosity perhaps, but it was hard to pinpoint. “Your name is Liv?” The way he pronounced it, it suddenly dawned on me that he had the slightest accent. It was a harder sound, like he was swallowing the v.

“It’s my nickname,” I said with a shrug. “I like it better than Olivia. And, uh, what’s your name?”

“Warin,” he said,disturbingly blue eyes intent on my face, as if he was trying to see through me somehow. “I am known as Warin Waldlitch.”

“Oh, you’re from abroad?” I latched onto that opening with both hands. Somehow, the idea that vampires immigrated had never crossed my mind. But of course, if they were in America, it stood to reason that at least a few would have made the journey across the Atlantic at some point. “Whereabouts?”

“The northern parts of Europe.”

I’d always assumed most Scandinavians were tall and blond, and from the looks of it, Warin was just a few inches above my height and his short hair was even darker than mine. At least he had the blue eyes. “Do you miss it? Your home country?”

“No.”

All righty, then. “What about your family?”

“My family?” he looked puzzled, as if it was the strangest thing I could have asked. It wasn’t. It really, really wasn’t. I had about a hundred inappropriate questions burning on the tip of my tongue, from whether he had a favorite “cuisine” to how personal hygiene worked for an undead. But I didn’t ask them, partly because that would probably be rude, and partly because I didn’t want to cut short the most amazing Q&A session I’d ever have access to.

“Yeah, you know, your parents, siblings, grandparents. Aunts, uncles. Or do you still keep in touch?”

Warin c****d his head, and I got the wild urge for pen and paper so I could draw him. The way the shadows played over his features underlined his inhuman beauty, from the paleness of his skin and hollows of his cheeks, to the strength of his jaw and softness of his lips. I hadn’t had much time to appreciate how jaw-droppingly handsome he truly was, what with being locked up by crazies and thinking I was going to get eaten, but as I looked at him now, it dawned on me that he was quite possibly the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. It felt a little strange to think of a man as “beautiful,” but for Warin, the word fit perfectly.

“I do not miss them,” he said, pulling me out of my contemplations of his face with a start, even though his voice was quiet. “They were a part of another life.”

I frowned. “Does that mean vampires have no interest in their former life after they are turned?” It sounded so… harsh.

He considered me for a moment. “That’s something I can’t answer, Liv. It is not discussed in our society, so I do not know what it’s like for other vampires.”

I guess it made sense that something like that would be private.

“Why do you have ink smears on your arms?” he asked.

I twisted my arms out in front of me to have a better look. Sure enough, a few high-placed ink smudges had avoided my attention the last time I washed my hands. “Huh. I was doing an ink drawing earlier and apparently didn’t notice. I always have random spots and smudges in odd places after doing a drawing or a painting.” I popped my finger in my mouth to wet it so I could rub the offending smears off.

“You’re an artist?”

I snorted. “A girl can dream! No, it’s just a hobby. I work in a shop to pay the bills. Today was supposed to be my day off to relax. What about you? Do you have any hobbies?”

The vampire looked a little perplexed, as if he’d never pondered the concept of a hobby before. “I… read a lot, when I have the time. My work keeps me busy for most of my waking hours.”

I looked up from my smudges, fascinated. I’d never really thought about vampires holding down jobs. “What do you work with? Ooh, let me guess! Mortician?”

Warin shook his head once, smirking at my enthusiasm.

“Nightclub bouncer?”

Another head shake.

“…Bartender?” I frowned, trying to think of nighttime employment that’d suit the young-looking man in front of me. It was surprisingly hard. “College student who only takes night classes…?”

Warin huffed. I wasn’t sure of it was from amusement, or if I was starting to get insulting with my suggestions.

“Okay, fine, I give up. What do you do?”

“Hmm. I suppose humans would call it law enforcement,” he said after thinking for a moment.

I blinked. Repeatedly. “Humans would call it law enforcement? Do you not…? Is there some secret vampire agency we don’t know about? Like a…” Excitement bubbled through my veins as I recalled the romance book that’d landed me in here in the first place. “Oh, my goddess, are you a secret vampire agent saving humans from all the terrors we don’t know exist? Like… Like an undead superhero?”

This time, there was no mistaking the disdain in Warin’s snort, and I deflated a little.

“Vampires are not superheroes, Liv,” he said, and the sudden, dark glint in his eyes made something at the base of my skull—some primitive instinct in charge of keeping me alive—wake up with a shudder that traveled the full length of my body. “Never, ever make the mistake of thinking we are safe. We are not.”

“O-okay,” I stuttered, pressing my back up tighter against the bars. “Noted.”

“What did you do to make these people lock you in a cage with a vampire?” he asked, and it took me a moment to realize he’d gone back to our Q&A session without missing a beat. As if he hadn’t just looked at me all scary-eyed, warning me that vampires were not our friends. While apparently not getting the dark irony of me currently being locked in a cage with one—him.

“I read a book they didn’t approve of,” I said, still too startled to remember why I’d swerved that question before.

“Which book?” he asked with a frown, and I could have bitten my own tongue off.

“Er… just a… book. Fiction.” I fidgeted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze.

“What book of fiction would lead them to capture a woman off the street?”

I couldn’t tell if he was mystified, or he thought I was lying.

“One about vampires,” I begrudgingly admitted.

“You read a fictional tale about vampires, and they thought you a threat?” Warin’s frown deepened.

Great. Just great. Why drop an embarrassing subject when we could just keep right on digging?

“It was a romance, okay? A vampire romance,” I snapped. I normally didn’t care what people thought of my trashy novel selection, but then I’d never really had to explain to a vampire that I loved reading about silly human girls falling for a sexy undead.

“Vampire romance?” The dark-haired young man arched both eyebrows at my confession. “What is a vampire ro—?” His voice died as he turned his head toward the door. “Someone’s coming.”