3. Millie

3

MILLIE

Before I can scream any longer or move an inch, at least attempt to escape my car, my screams are muffled by the stranger's freezing hands. His hand presses so hard against my squirming flesh that I bite my tongue on accident, and iron floods my mouth.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't hurt you... yet ." His cold breath clouds my neck. His voice doesn't sound human; it's laced with profound horror.

My eyes are wide with fear, and hot tears start pouring out. My chest hurts, probably from my heart thundering so hard and tight. I try to sneak breaths through my nose, but my breaths are muffled by his large, freezing hand. I can barely breathe by the way he's pressing it against me. I stare back at the familiar dangerous man through the rearview mirror, with fright written all over my pale face. He inches closer to my neck, over the seat.

What do I do ? How do I get out of this ? Why does he have really sharp teeth coming out of his mouth ?

I'm hoping Cole turns back around. My wishful thinking is going hundreds of miles an hour. We're essentially in the middle of nowhere with new construction.

His lips trail my skin, and his nose dips into my neck as he smells me.

What the hell is going on ?

With shaking muscles, I try to reach with my right hand for my phone. I need to call for help. I need the police!

It's in my purse that I dropped in the passenger seat. Hoping he's distracted by his strange decision to sniff me, I take advantage. I close my eyes and continue to cry softly against his hold, and I lift my hand quietly, my fingers reaching in the direction of my purse.

I barely make it over the center console when his hand quickly snatches my wrist and twists it until a loud pop bellows into the car. Excruciating pain drills into my senses, and I scream harder.

He broke it.

He broke my wrist .

"You humans are so weak, so delicate, so tempting." He roars with laughter like a monster, and before I can try to run away or call for help again, everything goes black.

"Are you sure she's a Valkyrie?"

"I'm sure of it. Her scent is strong. She has the blood."

"There's only one way to find out if she's a Valkyrie. I will take her to King Davenport myself. I'm the one that found her."

Voices .

That's how I know I'm conscious again.

I hear two men around me. One of their voices is familiar—the one that broke my wrist.

I guess I'm still alive. He must have knocked me unconscious somehow in my car.

Where am I ?

I hesitate to move.

Fuck, have I really been kidnapped? The possibility alone makes me not want to wake up and face my new reality.

Do it. Just get it over with. You need to find out where you are .

Finally, I suck in a small breath and open my eyes slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that will attract their attention.

Dark blue fabric.

I'm lying face down, on my stomach on a couch. My hand is in front of me, swollen with purple bruises. The evidence of a broken wrist is in front of me. And that's when I register the pain.

It hurts so damn bad .

I tilt my head to the side and blink fast. My eyes are dry and I'm doing everything I can to hold the anxious storm at bay inside me. I want to fall apart already.

I'm in a small space that looks like a bar room. There's a large pool table in the center, shelves with liquor and crystalized bottles on them, large TVs mounted on the walls, and shelves full of books that look ancient. What catches my eye the most is a massive map on the wall with a large, cryptic, gothic font.

Immortals Country

It looks like a map of the United States. I recognize each state, but it's divided into North, South, West, and East—each region with a name. A vast text that reads King Davenport is all over the Southern States.

I look up and see King Drago in the Northern States. I move my eyesight to the left to read the Western States, but I'm interrupted. Cold hands in my hair pull at the base so hard that I'm forced upward.

I yelp and squeal from the sensation.

"Stop! Please! Let me go home!" I plead. He pulls me off the couch and throws me over his shoulders. I thrash and hit him as hard as I can with my one arm, but I'm only hurting myself every time I hit the man. His body is hard like a rock.

The two men who were conversing earlier laugh at my weak attempts to escape. They're all wearing white sweaters with light blue jeans, and those same horrific, abnormally bright eyes look at me like I'm something to devour. One of them crosses his arms against his chest and gives me a creepy stare.

"We should drain the girl right here. Forget King Davenport!" He spits with glee.

What the ?

"Drain me? What do you mean drain me? Let me go! Please, I promise I won't tell anyone about you guys. Please let me live. Don't hurt me, please!"

"Hmm, her scent is very tempting. I think you're right."

"Don't you fucking touch me, assholes!"

He ignores me like my voice doesn't matter. The other man gets closer to me and lifts my hair off my shoulder so he uncovers my face. He, too, has sharp canines coming out of his mouth. His eyes are ice blue, and he's tall with strawberry-blonde hair, combed perfectly back with gel.

He gets near me and invades my space, but then the door to the room blasts open with a loud thud. The man throws me off his shoulders violently. I hit the wall behind them, and it knocks the air out of my lungs, stunning me. I gasp for air and wince. I try to pick myself up with the palm of my hand, bending my stressed elbow, but fall back to the cold wooden floor. I'm too dazed by the blow.

"Drago." The blonde man startles out his name, rolling the r in rigid disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing here, Prince Drago? You know this room is only for the southern immortals." The two men align themselves until they're side by side, like a barrier in front of me, as if they're trying to hide me. They glare at the man who enters the room.

The man at the door stares at them with bright red, amused eyes, and then his lips form into a haunting smirk. I glance over as I cough repeatedly and groan. His teeth also have pointed canines across his bottom lip. He folds his sleeves and looks at his Rolex watch. He's in a black suit, and he isn't alone. He has other men with the same bright red eyes by his side.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I'm here on vacation before I have to fulfill my duties as the new King Drago. I'm here to visit my future father-in-law. Wanted to check out your guys' nightlife…and man," he hollows his cheeks and whistles quickly before continuing. "You guys really do know how to party. I love this nightclub!" he exclaims with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Get the fuck out of here, Hayden. This room is only for us. No other vampire from any other region is allowed in this room. Go back out there and enjoy yourself. Finish your drinks and go home."

Hayden grins, shakes his head, and pouts his lips like a petulant child. He's enjoying getting under their skin. Then he notices me just as I sit up and hold my wrist, and a tear falls down my cheek.

"Who's the girl?" he asks the men mockingly. Hayden's men close the door behind him, and their eyes beam ruby red.

This is a fever dream, right ?

"None of your business." The man who broke my bones snarls back.

"Oh, you see, that's where you are wrong. It is my business ." He sneers. Hayden is absolutely beautiful and out-of-this-world handsome. His smile and everything about this stranger is undeniably attractive. The longer I stare at him, the more I feel like I'm in a trance. I blink the gathered tears in my eyes as I try to think of how to get the hell out of this room.

"You Davenports have caused quite the stir and trouble lately. All these killings of innocent people have caused a massive amount of commotion. It's raising eyebrows amongst the council and other Kings. Why ? You guys know the rules...so I will ask again, who is she?" He taunts them for an answer like he already knows the truth. He's toying with them.

"Just say the word, Hayden!" A man with bright red eyes shouts.

"Gerard, do we have to remind them of what they call me? Because I would love to," he snickers wickedly.

The two men with different sets of eyes look at each other before they face Hayden in silence. They both start to snarl, and I gasp, palming my mouth from the unfamiliar feral growls. The sounds they're making are definitely not human. I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. I hug my knees closer to my chest to try to make myself smaller. Something terrible is about to go down, and I need to figure out how to escape.