Last Bitten(12)

“Yes. Put it on your ring finger, left hand.”

“I can’t put it there. I’m not married.”

“Um . . .” Bruce clicked his tongue.

“How? How can I be married? We never exchanged vows. I never said yes. Johnny never asked me anything.”

“You followed him back in the club. You accepted his offer. You said yes when he asked you for forever.”

“I did not. He tricked me. He lured me and used me, and then he bit me.” Nia examined the translucent emerald. It had an inner glow, an inner fire that seemed to dance as the moonlight played upon it.

“You are his virgin bride. I am to deliver you, but cleaned up you must be first, and a gown is in order.”

“What?”

“The official ceremony is being arranged as we speak. We don’t have much time. There are many waiting for us, but you had to feed first. And look at you. You’re a mess. I don’t know if your cuts will heal beforehand.” Bruce studied Nia; she had one long, thin cut across her chin, a scrape on her right cheek and dead center on her forehead.

“And what about Andy—you just leave him there? Everyone in the dorm will know by now that I was with him and all my stuff is in there. The cops will be after me sooner or later. First my roommate in the hospital—detectives already came around about it. I’m so screwed. They suspect me—that I knifed my best friend. I mean I barely knew her, but still.”

“All that being said, it’s being taken care of. Andy knew too much about you anyway. He had to go.”

“What? What do you mean? How do you know all this? Is this whole thing a setup?”

Bruce kept his eye on the road.

“Answer me right now. I can’t believe this.” Nia held up the ring so Bruce could see it in the rearview. “Answer me now or I toss this out the window, this BIG ring, I’ll toss it.”

Bruce remained silent.

“That’s it!” Nia pushed the window button, but nothing happened. “I’ll smash this window out with my bare fists. I know I can. I know I’m strong. I can feel it inside. I feel different. I know this.”

“Just relax. We’re almost there.” Bruce turned off the freeway, down the curling exit ramp through quiet, plush, rural streets.

“Johnny lives in Bellevue?” Nia asked, overloaded by the allure.

They drove down an isolated street, packed with mega-expensive waterfront homes.

“And he’s neighbors with Bill Gates?”

Bruce smiled. “Johnny’s is further down. And the ceremony isn’t there. It’s . . . well, we don’t need to get into that yet.”

Nia ogled the ring again and held it loosely on her index finger. It was a heavy sucker, and she wasn’t prepared to put it on quite yet—didn’t feel right about it for some unknown reason. It was a gut-niggling thing. She wanted to try it on and was certainly tempted to, thinking about Johnny again, the way he danced with her, held her, kissed—so intimate, like he loved her, had loved her forever—but I’ve never met him till that night. This makes no sense. The sex was so cold with him.

After checking in with a gate guard, the magic began. Through packed pines, down a slick, black road, they arrived at a home unlike any other in that part of the city. The mansion was built like a modern-day castle: dark-grey exterior, conical black spires on the four corners, green passion vine cascading over the very large archway . . . but not a single window in sight. It was set back a ways from Lake Washington, but still allowed for direct access to the water. The odd guard dressed in attack-black, surveying the grounds and the upper ramparts.

Nia clicked the ring back into its pretty box and exchanged her fancy of it for the fancy of the castle. She exited the car just as Bruce handed her a heavy, woolen blanket to hide her red lingerie.

“This way,” he said.

There were no words for her sense of wonder.

The large, heavy, black-iron portal doors slid open, as though weightless. A female butler in a feminine fitted tux set with a red bowtie showed them into the gothic heaven. It was a place for kings and queens. Red-crystal chandeliers illuminated the dark ensemble of red carpets, baroque-style arches, and black walls with a majestic center staircase that led up to the upper-level balcony.

Nia knew they were going up and away, and they did. Upon hitting the upper level and making a left down the red-candlelit hall, the butler offered Nia a gold chalice, expectantly placed on black-marble table with marble legs adorned in carved cherubs. Nia took the cup and drank, peering in at the dark liquid.

“Blood?” she asked.

The butler nodded.

“Drink,” Bruce insisted. “You must keep up, for the night ahead will be busy and you will be tested.”