Werewolf and Vampire Mate [Book 1 Complete]

chapter eleven.

April

In my dreams, I run toward my wolf from across a shrubby clearing and he runs toward me. His glowing eyes are stark against the inky darkness of the forest. But we can never reach each other. Every time I think we are close, the clearing seems to stretch further and further until my legs give out. He keeps running, but never reaches me.

When I wake with a jolt, it's still pitch black. Nik's house is silent, eerily so. I creep out of bed, hardwood floors cold against my feet.

The hallway outside the bedroom is long and wide. As I pad down it, as silent as I can be, I take in the large crystal chandelier that hangs above the staircase. I listen attentively for Nik, but can't hear him anywhere.

At the bottom of the staircase, I'm not sure where to go. I turn right and eventually come to a spacious kitchen, with dark cabinets and a marble countertop. I fill a glass with water from the stainless steel tap and gulp it down greedily. When I'm done, I place my cup in the empty dishwasher. The plastic wrapping is still over the controls, like it's never been used. Strange, though I suppose Nik doesn't dirty much crockery since his meals come straight from a vein.

I shiver and back away from the kitchen, then hurry across a landing and make a left turn. Now I feel lost. How do I get back to the staircase? A door at the end of the hallway I stand in catches my eye. A shiny lock is closed over a latch.

None of the other doors are locked up.

I ease toward it, anxiety making my stomach turn. When I am at the innocuous, white, wooden door, I press my ear against it and listen.

Nothing. Nothing. Then...is that a whimper? A cry? I jerk back.

Oh god. What if he has someone locked down there, like his own personal blood bank?

I glance over my shoulder, but still the house is silent. He mustn't be here or, if he is, he is in some far flung room. Maybe one of the towers.

It takes a few wrong turns for me to finally make it back to the kitchen where I search almost frantically through the well-stocked drawers. I find a meat tenderizing hammer and a small culinary blow torch that I know is often used for dishes like Crème Brûlée and finishing off French Onion Soup.

I race back down to the locked door and flick on the torch, holding the flame to the padlock until the metal is weakened. Then I smash it open with the hammer and it clatters to the floor, broken. My hand shakes as I pull the door open and it creaks ominously. A dark, descending staircase greets me and terror claws at me. I do not want to go into this basement—it seems like a one way ticket into a bad horror movie—but I hear another soft cry and I push forward, stepping down. It's like I'm climbing into the pits of hell.

Stone walls surround the blackened space. There is nothing except a metal chair, bolted to the floor, and a bleeding, barely conscious girl strapped to it.

"Holy shit." I cover my mouth in horror. This is worse than the scariest movie I've ever seen. Her matted hair hangs in her face and there is scarcely an inch of her that is not bloody or bruised. She is tied down tightly with rope that seems to have burnt her skin.

I rush forward and drop to my knees in front of her. "Hey," my voice is wobbly. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Her eyes open and they are glowing golden. I lean back, inhaling sharply. She's a werewolf.

This is the werewolf Reed told me about, the one the vampires kidnapped. God, I didn't know she was being kept here, by Nik.

"Is your name Lark?" I ask her. "Can you hear me?"