12. Luna

Chapter 12

Luna

D espite Lucien slamming the painting back over the window, it is freezing in here. Fingers of icy cold air sneak in through the gaps between the back of the picture frame and the open window, and they trail over my exposed skin making me shiver.

I rub my arms and reach for the blanket at the foot of the bed. I wrap it around myself, but it still doesn't feel like enough.

And I'm still breathless and shaky from the orgasm he wrung from my trembling body.

I have never come like that before. Steven never made me feel like that. In fact, for the last three years the only orgasms I've had have been the sad, quiet, hurried ones I've had in the shower or in bed at night when he was out at the pub with his friends, and I dared to remember what it was like to feel turned on.

The way Lucien touched me… it was as if he already knew me. The way he gave me a voice and made me ask for what I wanted… no one has ever done that for me before. I shocked myself, and I aroused him. I could feel it in the way his cock stiffened against me when he pressed up close, and I could see it in his eyes.

He wanted me. And in those moments, even though I knew he could still hurt me if he wanted to, I felt safe.

I believed what he said about protecting me.

But then he ruined it by stalking out of here, taking my clothes with him, and locking me back inside.

My head is spinning. The buzz of arousal is mixing with fear and confusion, and I can't distinguish any one emotion from another. It's like they are swirling together in one big hazy vortex of fuckery that I don't know what to do with.

I'm curling into the armchair, pulling my knees up to my chest, ready to have a cry because it's the only thing I can think of that might release these feelings when I hear the key in the door.

I stand up and, fuck knows why, but a sudden burst of bravery makes me toss the blanket to the floor and put my hands on my hips. "Did you bring my clothes back? Or are you here to ask me more questions? Because forget sucking my nipples, what I want right now is to get out of this godforsaken hell hole of a?—"

I stop mid-speech when I realize the man backing into the room, carrying what looks like a large sheet of MDF and a hammer, is not Lucien Thornfield.

Whoever the fuck he is, he sets the MDF down by the wall, closes the door, locks it again, slips the key into his pocket then turns to look at me,

I'm still standing with my hands on my hips, brazenly, as if I don't care that I'm half naked.

He raises his eyebrows. They're light brown, and thick, but half obscured by a pair of round tortoiseshell glasses. Brushing his curly hair from his face, he rolls up his white shirt sleeves and very deliberately looks away from me.

"I'm afraid I don't have your clothes, I don't have any questions for you right now, and I'm not adverse to sucking your nipples but I feel like we should at least exchange names first. Unless you're asking to suck mine, in which case…" He pauses, scratching his chin. "No, I still think we should introduce ourselves first. Maybe get a drink. Or dinner."

I grab the blanket, cheeks flaming beetroot red, and wrap it around myself like a towel, covering my breasts, wishing I had my bra on because they do not defy the laws of gravity and are nowhere near as pert as they should be.

"I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"

The man glances at me, realizes I'm covered, then points at the painting. "Window behind there?" he asks.

I nod, sinking back into the chair.

He takes the painting down and whistles, shaking his head. "You broke the glass?" he asks.

I nod, and gesture to the candlestick which is still on the floor nearby.

"Oh shit, nearly forgot…" He strides over to me and grabs my hand.

The sudden contact makes me flinch, but when I look up and meet his eyes, a sense of warmth settles in my stomach instead.

"Thornfield told me to fix your hand up."

I raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"True story," the man says, holding up a finger. "Bathroom in here?" He gestures to a door opposite the bed.

I nod; I checked it out as soon as he locked me in here. But there was nothing useful. Just a plain white room with a toilet, a sink, a shower and – weirdly – the exact shampoo I've used for about the last five years.

The man disappears inside and comes back with a damp towel. He kneels in front of me and holds my wrist, then cleans the cut on my palm. His touch is slow and gentle, and as he wipes the blood from my skin there is no flicker of blood lust or hunger in his eyes.

"You're not a vampire?" I ask him.

He shakes his head, then reaches into his pocket and takes out a tube of antiseptic cream. He dabs it on gently, then pulls out a plaster. It has cartoon cats on it. I chuckle as he presses it to my skin.

"I was with my nieces and nephews at the weekend. Sophia cut her knee. Thankfully, still had these in my car because Thornfield has fuck all in the way of human first-aid around here."

"I guess he brings his humans here to eat them not heal them," I reply, tilting my head to study the man's square jaw and grey-brown eyes.

He laughs and stands up. "Don't worry. He won't be eating you," he says. Something flits across his face, but he bites the corner of his lip as if he's stopping himself from saying it. Like a schoolboy who wants to shout a rude joke in class. He clears his throat. "He doesn't feed from humans these days. Not often, anyway."

He returns to the window and uses his elbow to brush all the remaining shards of glass free.

Below, the dogs that Thornfield sent to bark below my window start making noise.

"I'm Kim, by the way." He strides back to the discarded sheet of MDF then takes it to the window.

"Luna," I reply, twisting so I can watch as he takes nails from his pocket and starts to hammer the MDF into place. "You work for Lucien?"

Kim pauses, considering his words carefully. "You could say that."

"What exactly does he do?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. From when he visited the bookshop, I know he works for the university, but I also know you don't get to be the owner of a huge mansion, and have staff at your beck and call, on a university professor's salary.

Kim glances at me over his shoulder and bites the inside of his cheek as if he's trying to decide how to answer me. "I suppose the best way to phrase it is…" He frowns, searching for the right words. "The thing is, Thornfield... he's not just a vampire. He's essentially the supernatural mafia boss of Cambridge."

My eyes widen but then I laugh a little. "Mafia?"

Kim raises his eyebrows. "Oh yeah. He runs the Fermented Human Blood trade in the city. FHB."

"I've heard of it."

"Then you know it's a big deal. Thornfield controls who sells it, who buys it, everything. He's got his fingers in a lot of pies, and let's just say he's not someone you want to cross."

I absorb this information, feeling a mix of shock and... something else. Fear? Excitement? "And you're okay working for someone like that?"

Kim shrugs. "Like I said, it's complicated. But Thornfield... he keeps things in check. Without him, it'd be chaos."

I watch as Kim finishes hammering the MDF into place over the broken window.

With the daylight gone again, my chest tightens; I've always hated the dark.

"Does he keep you locked up here, too?" I adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose. "Or does he pay you for odd jobs?"

Kim laughs and, instead of hanging the picture back up, props it in front of the wardrobe. "No. We're… colleagues." He perches on the end of the bed and crosses his legs at the ankles. He sits quietly for a moment, studying me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

I shift in my chair, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through my lower back. The constant ache I've been trying to ignore since arriving here is steadily growing worse, and I can feel my muscles tensing in response.

"Are you all right?" Kim asks gently.

I force a smile; the kind I'm used to giving people a hundred times a day. The one that perfectly masks how I'm really feeling. "Fine. Apart from being kidnapped and held hostage."

"I'm not sure you're a hostage," Kim says. There's something about him that puts me at ease, despite the bizarre situation. Maybe it's his calm demeanor or the way he fixed my hand without hesitation. Whatever it is, I find myself wanting to trust him, even though I know I shouldn't trust anyone in this place.

"Kim," I start, trying to keep my voice steady, "why does Lucien think I need protecting? What's really going on here?"

He looks away, his jaw tightening slightly.

"Please. Thornfield won't talk to me, and I can't just sit here alone with my thoughts. It will drive me crazy."

Kim sighs a little then adjusts his glasses on his nose. "Because of what happened at the bookshop. The vampires who attacked you. He thinks they might return."

I lean forward, ignoring the twinge in my muscles. There is more to it than that. I know there is. But neither of them wants to tell me the truth. "One of the vampires mentioned something about a queen. What did they mean?"

Kim runs a hand through his curly hair. The gesture is oddly endearing, making him seem more approachable. It's a stark contrast to Lucien's gothic, otherworldly presence.

"There used to be a vampire queen named Zephyra," he explains. "She ran the Fermented Human Blood trade in Cambridge. Lucien had an arrangement with her - she could deal FHB if she kept the vampire population under control. And gave him a healthy share of her profits."

As he speaks, I notice the way his shoulders tense, as if the memory itself is uncomfortable. I wonder how deeply he's involved in this world of vampires and blood trades.

"What happened?" I ask, rubbing my temples to ease the growing tension headache. The pain is spreading, creeping up from my lower back to my shoulders, making it hard to concentrate.

"She double-crossed him. Lucien had to... end her reign." Kim's voice is cautious, measured. He's clearly choosing his words carefully, and I can't help but wonder what he's not telling me.

A chill runs down my spine as I remember the vampire's words. "They said Lucien ate her heart. Is that true?"

"He did. And... so did I."

I frown at him for a moment then feel myself recoil slightly, shock coursing through me. The pain momentarily forgotten as I try to process the image forming in my mind. "But you're human. Why would you...?"

Kim stands abruptly, moving towards the door. His sudden movement makes me flinch, and I hate myself for it. He doesn't seem like a threat, but after everything that's happened, I can't help but be on edge.

"I'm human, yes, but I'm also a demon hunter. I have hunter blood," he explains, his voice tight. "It's a long story."

"I have time," I tell him, trying to smile.

He doesn't smile back. "I was struggling to accept my identity. Eating the heart seemed symbolic. A good idea at the time."

As he reaches for the doorknob, I call out, ignoring the stabbing pain in my joints as I stand up, blanket wrapped tightly around me. "Wait! I have a favor to ask."

He pauses, turning back to me with a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before. It is so different from the way Lucien looks at me.

I take a deep breath, trying to push past the discomfort. My whole body feels like it's on fire now, each movement sending waves of pain through me. "Could you ask Lucien if he can get my pills from the bookshop? I'm in a lot of pain, and I really need them."

Kim's expression softens further. He nods, "I'll ask him. No promises, but I'll try." He hesitates for a moment, then asks, "Are you going to try to escape again?"

The question catches me off guard. I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of what he thinks I should do. "Do you think I should?"

Kim looks thoughtful, his brow furrowing slightly. After a moment, he replies, "On the whole I'd say, right now, you're safer here than anywhere else." He meets my eyes, his gaze steady and sincere. "But if that changes, I promise I will tell you."

The weight of his words settles over me. I nod slowly, processing what he's said. There's something reassuring about his promise, even though I barely know him.

As he leaves, locking the door behind him, I curl up in the chair, hugging my knees to my chest. The pain is getting worse. Even if I wanted to escape, the adrenaline and exertion of my first attempt has rendered me next to useless.

I stand and cross over to the bed. I lie down, but I am no more comfortable here than I was in the chair.

Staring at the drapes that box in the four-poster bed, I try to focus on my breathing and not the way my body feels.

I feel suddenly lonely, and the weight of being completely trapped presses down on my fragile chest.

I close my eyes and picture the kindness in Kim's eyes.

I can't help but compare him to Lucien. Where Lucien is all intensity and danger, Kim seems... normal. Almost reassuringly so. But then I remember what he said about eating a vampire queen's heart, and being a demon hunter, and I shudder. Maybe there are no normal people in this world I've fallen into.

I turn onto my side and prop a pillow between my legs – a trick a physiotherapist showed me once to help ease the ache in my lower body.

It doesn't help much.

The pain is becoming unbearable now. And without my medication, I know it will only get worse.

I try using the techniques I've learned over the years to manage the pain – breathwork, meditation, tapping – but it's hard to concentrate. My mind keeps wandering back to the events at the bookshop, to Lucien's intense gaze, to Kim's gentle hands as he bandaged my cut.

I wonder if Kim will really ask Lucien about my meds or if he was just saying that to placate me. And even if he does ask, will Lucien care?

As another wave of pain washes over me, I close my eyes tightly. I'm trapped in this room, in this mansion, in this body that feels like it's betraying me.

I have no idea how I'm going to get out of any of it. Or if i'll have a job to return to when I do because, surely, if I fail to turn up to work for more than twenty-four-hours my boss will fire me.

But Kim's words echo in my mind – I'm safer here.

For now.