Sucked In

Chapter Forty-Two

  “Now, Miss Ashley, that was a very mean trick to play on poor Emma. But you won't find me such an easy target,” said Isaac. “After all, we always did get along.”

  “Sure, you were fun enough… for a time,” I murmured. My highly trained ability to annoy found a new target.

  His smirk transformed into a frozen stare. “For a time?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yeah. You can't expect a girl like me to be entertained by a guy like you for long. I'm mean… you're nice enough… but, if I'm honest, kinda dull,” I whispered as if it was a secret, picking Isaac's one flaw—aside from wanting to sacrifice me—and multiplying it by, like, a billion. Isaac wasn't dull. He just didn't make the moves I had wanted him to, such as kissing me more. Ooh, I could use that! “And, you know, constructive criticism and all, your kisses were a little boring.”

  “Boring?”

  “Yeah. I mean… they were enjoyable, but hardly lit my fire if you know what I mean.” I couldn't believe he was buying it. After all, he would have been listening to my heart beat a mile a minute while he kissed me. I became very glad he couldn't hear my heart now because it would have given light to my falsehood. I hoped I wasn't turning green as I discussed it. Though I might have wanted nothing more than a good makeout session with him when I was human, the idea of it now made me want to hurl. After all, he was trying to kill me.

  “Lit your fire?” Isaac suddenly looked like a drowned puppy. I almost felt sorry for him.

  “Yeah… you know… floated my boat. Got the motor running. Boiled my potato. Tickled my fancy. You really don't get the modern language do you?”

  Isaac shook his head.

  I sighed. “I never got—erm—aroused from your 'kisses'.” I would have used my hands to make air quotation marks, but I couldn't, so I just insinuated as much as I could with my voice. He seemed to get it. His face stiffened much like Emma's had.

  “And here I always thought you liked me,” he murmured, trying to sound nonchalant, but I could see his knuckles turning white.

  “Eh. Better'n nothing. But really… when this is all over, you might want to take a few lessons. Nik could teach you a thing or two,” I added for good measure, knowing they didn't like each other. That was the trigger. Isaac went from sad confusion to a killing rage in seconds. He charged forward, grabbing me by the waist and yanking me free from the dangling hook. The next thing I knew, I was flying through the room and crashing into one of the fancy hutches filled with glass vases. Blood spouted from hundreds of tiny cuts, and I absently wondered how much of it contained my DNA and how much belonged to my recent victims. Then again, what does vampire DNA look like? It's questions like these that need to be addressed in the next Blade movie.

  Before I could climb out of the pile of blood and glass, Isaac was on me, yanking me up and planting a big, sloppy kiss on my surprised lips. He wrapped his arms around me and forced his tongue into my mouth. At first, I relaxed into his grasp, thinking he'll just get bored, but the more passive I was, the more aggressive he got. It wasn't until I struggled against his hold that he let me go. He dropped me to my feet and I did my best to not look out of breath.

  “There. How was that?” demanded Isaac.

  “Not bad. Kinda slimy.” I made a show of wiping my lips on my shoulder—my hands were still tied together.

  His eyes turned fiery and I suddenly worried that he might force himself on me rather than kill me. I couldn't decide whether to continue pushing his buttons or to let it go. Maybe I should have moved away from the sexual aspect.

  “Also, I mean, if we're being honest with each other, your dates were kinda lame,” I stated before sauntering away, or at least I tried to. Before I managed to take more than a step, he grabbed me again and tossed me into one of the delicate tables. A tiny gasp escaped my lips as a piece of the wood skewered me from behind. I panicked, thinking it had hit my heart. After a moment of agony, I realized it hadn't… and realized that that was exactly what I had been hoping for a moment ago. It’s hard to wish for your own death.

  “What the hell is going on?” Richard asked from the doorway where he stood, slowly taking inventory of the damaged room. I could only imagine what he saw: Isaac in the center, panting; a shattered hutch covered in blood; and me on the remnants of a table with a giant splinter poking through my gut, also covered in blood.

  Isaac froze, his senses slowly returning. He too looked around and realized what he'd nearly done. Richard waddled past him and yanked the splinter from my back. The pain was so intense I rolled over and heaved, but my stomach was empty, the blood from my recent feeding already soaked up by my tissues and expended on the recent injuries.

  Richard yanked me up to my feet and dragged me to my corner, where he hoisted me back onto the hook. He may be short and fat, but he was just as strong as Isaac. Maybe even stronger, I realized as I remembered my lessons on the aging of vampires. The older they are, the stronger they are. Period.

  “Now get out.”

  “But… ”

  “Get out!” demanded Richard. “I will call you when it's time.”

  Isaac glared at the back of Richard's head before storming out of the room and slamming the door.

  “Spoilsport,” I murmured.

  Richard looked up at me, his face not showing any of the anger I expected. “You know, if things were different, I think I might actually like you.”

  “Yeah? If things were different, I'd still think you were a rat-bastard.”

  Again, Richard didn't express the anger I had been shooting for. He simply took a seat, flipped open a nearby book and began to read. I hung there for a moment, still swaying slightly from when he reattached me to the hook.

  “Whatcha readin’?” I asked, hoping to pester him to death.

  Richard didn't answer.

  “Is it any good?”

  Still no answer.

  “You ever read any of my books?”

  Richard continued to sit in silence though I thought I detected a faint smile. He probably had read my books and like most vampires, thought them to be horrible. Granted, since my becoming a vampire, I kind of thought they were horrible too.

  “You're fat,” I said in a last-ditch effort to make him mad. Though the muscles around his jaw tightened, he didn't respond. It was clear I would never get him mad enough to kill me.

  The realization of what I was waiting for hit me like a ton of bricks: I was about to die, for real this time. There were so many things I still wanted to do. Like, be in love. Or travel to Europe. I'd never get to write better books, or more importantly, tell Nik how much he sucked at being a guard.

  Where was he anyway? I wondered, the ropes around my wrist getting tighter with each minute. He's not dead, I told myself firmly. He couldn't be. Nik couldn't die.

  And Josh?

  I felt my eyes begin to burn. I didn't want Josh to die for my sake or any other reason. He was a genuine friend—someone I could see watching Bollywood films with me or going thrift store shopping. We clearly had the same sort of twisted humor.

  Nik on the other hand, Nik was something else. Well, I didn't want to think on that topic. I didn't know how I felt about him dying. I didn't know how I felt about him living either. Ugh. Complications!

  There's nothing I can do about it, I told myself sternly. An hour later, my arms began to go to sleep, and another hour after that, the room slowly started filling with Richard's seethe. My clothing was finally dry. The primus put his book down and began to mill about. At first, I ignored them—keeping my head drooped toward the floor. I had a crick in my neck, but I figured it didn't matter. It was only a matter of time before I'd be dead. Though I felt pressure building behind my eyes, I was too numb to cry.

  When I did begin to stir, I spotted Richard speaking to an odd-looking man with shaggy brown hair and an eighties mustache. They glanced at me occasionally, as most of the growing crowd did. Some looked at me in earnest, while others examined me as though
I was a science project. Finally, when I thought the room couldn't hold anymore, Emma and Isaac entered, each showing their own signs of stress and frustration. Emma's arms were twined across her chest while Isaac continually flexed his fingers to keep them from balling up into fists. They both had showered and changed.

  I waited, half expecting to see Nik swoop in to rescue me at that critical moment.