The Billionaire’s Baby(29)

She was definitely a weirdo.

Of course none of his interest was reflected in his words, "Mind if you loosen up these things, plant princess?" He asked with a smirk, knowing it would provoke her.

"It’s not like I want to be close to you either!" She sneered viciously, vines wilting back towards the iced over earth.

The vampire kept a firm grasp of her small body, to dissuade her from trying to escape.

"Alright, let's try this again." The vampire said with a stern look down at her, "Now be a good captive and behave."

He didn't miss the agitated twitch of her eyebrow.

He continued onward, this time keeping her pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around her tightly, cocooning her against him. She wouldn't be able to trap him with her little plants this time without knowing full well that she'd be trapped as well.

For a few minutes they walked in silence, and the vampire was surprised that she allowed him to carry her without complaining. No doubt she was scheming.

"What's your name, kid?" He asked absently, not looking at her. Silence made him uneasy.

Even when he was human, he was never able to be quiet for more than a moment or two. It was his own fault he’d pissed off another vampire and ended up this way.

His mind, quite honestly, was torn. He had quickly become addicted to the girl's spirit; it made him feel somewhat alive again. He'd only known this girl for a short while and he already wanted to argue with her again, as silly as that was. He simply wanted to see the emotions swirling around her eyes, he'd even settle with her violence if she would just treat him like an actual person. She did not grovel, or beg, or plead, or sob – she argued. The stupid kid bickered with him when he was intent on killing her.

He supposed that was what was saving her right now. Perhaps he could keep her as a pet?

"Your hands are freezing." She said simply, once again ignoring his words. Was she partially deaf or just this impudent?

"That's an interesting name," He murmured, "Can I call you ‘Hands’ for short?"

Neither laughed at the slight joke, but the vampire gently lifted the girl a bit closer against him, practically forcing her cheek against his chest, directly over his heart.

"It's warm!" She gasped in surprise, blinking up at him with the same innocent eyes that would have convinced anyone else she was a little kid.

The cinnamon freckles splashed liberally over her little button nose didn't help her seem any more adult.

"Yup. Only warm part of my body, that's where all the blood I drink goes to keep me alive. The heart can't keep it warm for too long though, seeing as it's not my blood - it can't quite accept it. That's why it gets colder the farther out you go from it as the blood circulates, and why I need to keep drinking blood to keep me alive." He was smugly proud of owning this bit of knowledge, the man who’d gifted him with it had not been as fortunate.

"So you are really a vampire." She murmured quietly, dazed.

He laughed then gave a sharp toothed grin, "What gave you that idea?"

She gave a tiny, halfhearted chuckle and looked down, but did not remove her cheek from his chest. He was like her own personal furnace against the wildly billowing arctic wind, at least for the side of her face. She could feel the faint, unnaturally slow babump of his heart under her cheek.

"Aw, come on, Princess. Don't tell me cat got your tongue now!" He had to say he was disappointed in her; this feisty girl who'd been so vivacious even when he attacked her, yet here she was… suddenly afraid of him. All at the simple word, vampire.

He should be used to that by now, though.

"It's not that." She said abruptly, and he glanced down at her in surprise to find her scrutinizing his expression, "You think I'm afraid of you?"

He didn't answer. He didn't want to know if she was, lest his opinion of her be spoiled forever. Though that forever may not be much longer. They were almost back to his small home.

"I'm not afraid of you, why would I be?" Her voice was now calm, relaxed, and he could feel her body slowly becoming more and more limp in his arms as she drifted slowly towards sleep.

He still remained silent, not bothering to point out the tiny bruises on her body or the cuts that he inflicted purposely onto her small shoulders, or to bring up the threats he made, or the fact that he would probably choose kill her as soon as they got to where he lived.

She too remained in total silence, and to his surprise, she cuddled slightly against the warmth his chest, and he held her tighter to him, one hand slowly gripping the free skin of her shoulder and the other on her side, only to receive a drowsy, "Your hands are too cold…"

How could she sleep at a time like this? Didn’t she realize she was on her way to her death?