Chapter Fifteen

Inever gave much thought to what mankind's version of heaven is like, but I'm fairly certain theirs doesn't involve a rusted chain in one's mouth. However, as I lie on top of the church pew, I feel as close to heaven as I'm going to get.

"Stay right there," Priest says to me in a low, rich voice, briefly placing his warm hand on the small of my back. The gesture is soft, but it sends a wash of shivers over my skin. Funny how he can defile me so thoroughly—bound, chained, with both a cock and a candle of all things—and yet a simple touch feels just as good.

Perhaps even more so.

I'm not going anywhere, I want to tell him, but of course, I can't speak clearly with the chain in my mouth.

I feel his presence move away from me, the sound of his trousers being pulled on, the sound of the lock being undone and the door opening. I turn my head to see him leave.

He doesn't lock the door behind him.

This is your chance, I tell myself. Escape.

But the relentless orgasms must have done something to my head.

They've made me weak.

Damn it. I'm supposed to be the one seducing him and rendering him helpless through sex, not the other way around.

How did he manage to turn the tables?

I exhale against the chain, my eyes on the door. I don't know where Priest has gone, but I can't imagine he will be gone for long. Does he know he didn't lock it?

I try to push past the postcoital haze and formulate a plan. I could get up and run. My legs work, and they aren't bound. I could run, albeit naked, outside and keep running until I find help. The villagers would help me, I'm certain of it.

But Priest would probably hunt me down as he did before, and frankly, I wouldn't mind if he subjected me to more angry sex.

Still, I have to remember why I gave up my fins to begin with.

I have to think about Maren.

I twist around and sit up carefully, trying to gather the courage.

It had been so easy to run the other day.

What happened to me?

Why do I feel compelled to stay this man's hostage?

Because you like it, a tiny voice inside me says. Because you like being his captive. You like that he feeds on you and fucks you and makes you feel things you've never felt before.

Because you are like him.

And youlike him.

I swallow uneasily. No. I can't like him. I can't like any of this.

I've been driven by the obsession of finding my sister for the last eleven years, my one singular purpose. I've survived the loss of my father, the loss of my kingdom, the loss of my other sister. I've survived abuse at the hands of rogue Syrens, survived years of loneliness and despair as I've searched the oceans looking for Maren.

I can't give up now, even if I feel something for this man.

This monster.

This Vampyre.

But what if I'm never meant to find Maren?

What if I'm only meant to find him?

I hear footsteps outside the door, and I snap out of my thoughts, my heart racing.

Priest steps back into the room, shirtless but wearing his black trousers, carrying a bucket of water and a cloth.

He pauses for a moment, and hurt flits across his face as he looks me over before he continues walking.

"Were you planning on going somewhere?" he asks tepidly as he sets the bucket beside me.

I stare at him in response. I can't answer anyway.

He just nods. "Lie back down. Spread your legs."

My eyes widen. Again? We're doing this already?

"I'm cleaning you up," he adds quietly and gestures with a raise of his chin to do as he asks.

"You just bathed me."

"And I just made you filthy again," he says and motions again. "I wanted clean water for this."

I lie back on the pew, my hands bound beneath me, and stare up at the ceiling.

I hear the washcloth going in the water. It's deliciously cold and wet as he presses it against my inner knee and gently glides it up my thighs. He cleans me much like he did earlier, with delicate, methodical strokes.

He murmurs for me to flip over to my stomach, and I do so, parting my legs for him again. There is no shame with him, no inhibitions or humility, not when it comes to my body, but even so, I tense up a little as he parts the cheeks of my rear and gently dabs the washcloth there, that part of me a little sore from being used in such a foreign and savage manner.

"There," he says. After a few more minutes of tender care, he removes the cloth, and then…

SMACK.

I yelp against the chain, jerking from the impact of his palm against my bottom.

I glare at him over my shoulder, and he's grinning deviously at me, the kind of smile that soothes the sting. A smile that makes my heart stumble.

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. "I couldn't help myself. I shall have to blame the monster."

Then, he reaches forward and grabs me by my shoulders, hauling me up to sit. "I'm going to untie you for a moment while I get this shift on you," he says, lifting the linen.

What's the point? I think as he reaches behind me and starts undoing the rope. I'll only end up naked again.

"Promise me you'll behave," he whispers against my ear, making my eyes roll back in my head. "Then maybe I'll undo the chain too."

I nod as he frees my hands. I wriggle my aching wrists, and he immediately grabs them, bringing them forward, a warning in his eyes.

Then, he lifts them up to his mouth, and with his gaze intently focused on mine like he's staring into my very soul, he places his lips on the soft underside of each one.

Goodness, I feel like I'm melting at his touch. It's as if he's trying to win me over with tenderness now.

And it's working.

I'll behave, I think. I'll do anything you want if you keep looking at me like that.

He smiles gently and then lifts my arms, slipping the shift over me and pulling it down over my head and chest.

"Good girl," he says appreciatively as he reaches behind me to undo the chain.

Then, he stops.

Sucks in his breath.

The energy in the room suddenly changes into something dark and cold.

I glance up to see him staring over my shoulder, and I follow his gaze to the door to see a man standing there.

I gasp against the chain, and Priest drops his hands.

"What is going on here?" the man says. He's dressed in authoritative clothing, which makes me think he might be a priest too, but then I see the sword sheathed at his side, a gun in his hand. I became very familiar with them after Asherah was taken.

Is this man a pirate? He seems too well-kept to be one. He even has one of those white curled wigs.

Priest doesn't say anything; he just puts himself between me and the other man.

"What are you doing to her?" the man says. "Step aside, Father Aragon."

"Please leave," Priest says in a hard, cold voice. "You are not allowed back here. This is consecrated ground."

The man snorts and brings out his gun, pointing it at Priest. "Consecrated ground. I know you are no priest, no holy man. I've always suspected as much—all these visits to the church in the middle of the night. Now, I see you're keeping a woman back here for yourself. Holy man indeed."

"She belongs to me," Priest practically growls.

"I'll let her decide who she belongs to," the soldier says as he smiles at me. "Don't worry, darling, I'll get you out here." He glares at Priest and shakes his pistol at him. "Step aside, Aragon."

Priest looks back down at me.

I suppose this is my chance.

This is all I was waiting for.

Someone to come and rescue me.

But then, to my utter surprise, Priest steps aside.

And my heart sinks with fear.

The man grins and walks over to me, keeping the gun trained on Priest as he approaches.

"You're beautiful, aren't you?" the man says as he leers at me. "I can see why he wanted to hide you back here." The soldier reaches out with his free hand and grabs my wrist, hard enough for me to cry out. "Don't worry, I'm here to help."

Priest makes a move for me, but the soldier pulls the trigger.

With a fiery blast, gun smoke fills the air, and I scream again as Priest is hit with a bullet to his chest. He goes down with a gasp, hitting the ground hard.

"Priest!" I try to scream against the chains, but the soldier hits me on the side of the head with his pistol, and everything explodes into sparks. I feel warm blood trickle down the side of my head, and I'm shoved down on the pew again, the soldier pushing up my shift.

He groans, pressing his hard-on against my rear as I thrash, trying to get out of the way, drowning in disgust.

"I doubt you've been properly fucked by a holy man," the man says, grabbing my wrists and yanking them behind my back, my shoulders dislocating again with debilitating pain. "He probably had to tie you up because he doesn't know what he's doing. Probably had to put this in your mouth so you wouldn't tell him how bad he was."

He hits me with the gun again, and I yelp, feeling my fight start to slip away. I try to get my claws to come out, but the way my shoulders are ripped from their sockets must be preventing me. "Or did he do it because you're a screamer? You know, I like it when they scream."

He grabs the chain at the back of my head and slams my forehead down into the wood before he pulls my head back up again. I feel his other hand fumble in his trousers. "Let's see how much noise you make, darling."

I feel the chain start to come loose.

I feel my resolve start to slip away.

"I wouldn't remove that if I were you." Priest's voice rings out like a beacon behind me.

I open my eyes.

He's alive!

The chain comes undone and falls out of my mouth.

I feel the soldier twist around to look in Priest's direction, hear his confused gasp at seeing him alive.

"She bites," Priest adds.

And that's enough for me.

While the soldier is distracted by Priest's resurrection, my shark teeth emerge, and I find the strength to twist around to bite the soldier's hand. I chomp down on two fingers, severing them both at the knuckle.

The soldier screams in horror, blood spraying, and I spit the fingers out violently. If I'm going to eat any part of this man, it's going to be his heart, and he's going to watch me do it.

Meanwhile, Priest appears behind him, grabbing the man from behind, pulling off his wig and throwing it to the ground before wrapping strong fingers around each shoulder, holding the screaming soldier in place.

"Do you want to do the honors, little fish?" Priest asks me. His eyes have that strange red sheen to them, his fangs protruding as he talks.

I bare my teeth right back, matching his gruesome smile.

"Gladly," I tell him.

I move my shoulders so they roll forward and snap back into place, gritting my teeth through a scream. Then, I thrust my hand at the soldier, my nails turning into claws as I plunge my fingers into the man's chest, ripping through flesh and bone.

His scream echoes off the walls, and I see my reflection in his dark eyes. I look like a crazed monster.

Even more so when I rip his heart right out of his chest. I hold it in front of his face so he can watch as it gives its last beat. I want him to watch me eat it too, but I hesitate, wondering if that will be too much for Priest, if he'll think badly of me.

But when I glance at him standing behind the soldier, he just gives me an assured nod to proceed.

So, I open my mouth and stuff the man's heart inside, slicing through the tough muscle with a few snaps of my teeth, blood spilling over the sides of my lips.

I know the soldier sees me eat it, even if he's alive for just a mere second before he collapses, dead in Priest's arms.

That only makes me more ravenous as I swallow down his heart—it's the best thing I've tasted in a long time—and lock eyes with Priest. Something changes in his gaze, and he frowns. He knows that, right now, I could make a break for it. My teeth are sharp, my claws out; I can run for the door.

But I don't move. I just stand there, a bloodied corpse between us.

I'm not sure why it feels rather awkward, but it does, like we're both seeing each other in a new light, one perhaps only flattering to each other.

"You got shot," I point out, nodding at his chest while I wipe the blood from my mouth.

"I did. Wasn't the first time and won't be the last. It can't kill me."

"Then why did you step aside?" I ask. "I thought you were going to protect me."

"Larimar, I will protect you from everyone, including myself," he says gravely. "He wasn't going to make it out of this room alive regardless, but I wanted to see what you could do. I wanted to see how you'd take care of yourself. I wanted to see your monster."

"He was going to rape me," I say. "What if I couldn't have fought back?"

"I would have torn off his dick before he had the chance," he growls, his eyes burning into mine. "I didn't think he'd pull the trigger. Besides, you did take care of yourself. All of this? This is all you."

I suppose he's right. Even if Priest hadn't recovered, I managed to bite off the man's fingers. I tore out his heart and ate it. I might even be a little proud of myself.

"Since we have him, we shouldn't let him go to waste," Priest says, clearing his throat. "Did you want to help yourself to the rest of his organs while I drink his blood?"

"Do you think others will come?"

He shakes his head and steps back to place the soldier on the ground. "They would have been here already, but I'll be listening, just in case. I should have heard him coming before, but I was just…too preoccupied with you."

"With whether I would behave," I remind him. "I'd say I'm in the midst of misbehaving, wouldn't you?"

He gives me a crooked smile, fangs and all, that steals the breath from my lungs. "Then please, continue."

"Don't mind if I do," I say, getting to my knees beside the corpse. Priest does the same, snapping the dead man's neck to the side before biting and feasting. I dig my hand into the soldier's chest cavity and rip him down the middle, searching for his liver.

The two of us share a meal together, as lovers do.