The Last True Vampire(33)

“What did he say to you?” Michael’s warm tone vibrated through her. How could she possibly keep the upper hand when just a few words from him turned her body traitor?

Claire shrugged. “A bunch of crazy shit that made no sense.”

Claire suppressed a shiver as she recalled the endless black depths of the priest’s irises, the dark tendrils that fanned out from his eyes and bled into his skin. His strength and speed. Totally unreal. And the words that caused her stomach to tie itself into knots: It’s time to draw a little blood. And coax the vampire out of hiding. No way had she imagined any of it. She had no idea what these guys were involved in, but she wanted no part of it.

“Please,” she said in a last-ditch effort to save her skin, “I promise I won’t talk. Just pull over and let me out.”

“Try to relax, Claire.” Michael spoke as if trying to talk her off a ledge. “You’re among friends. And you’re safe.”

She wanted to call bullshit, but his words rang true. Damn it. Could the night get any crazier? Did she really want to find out?

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Though she couldn’t see him well in the dark interior of the car, Claire felt the tension Michael was throwing off. Energy that buffeted her skin like waves crashing on the shore. The sense that something connected them, like an invisible length of rope, unnerved her. She tried to push the sensation to the back of her mind, but as she settled into the plush leather seat the invisible tether that connected her to him tugged at her center. She wondered, did he feel it, too?

“So … what did this car set you back?” She needed something to distract her from the strange connection vibrating through every cell in her body. Claire had never owned a junker car, let alone ridden in one that cost more than ten years’ worth of her rent. When would she get the opportunity again to talk about luxury cars with someone able to afford one?#p#分页标题#e#

“About three-seventy-five with all the extras.” Ronan spoke about the price of an Aston Martin Vanquish like some people talked about buying a case of soda.

Beneath the long sleeve of Claire’s shirt, the Patek’s cool metal caressed her skin, reminding her of how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place. She’d held on to that damned watch like the spoils of war, too covetous to even sell it off to her fence. Michael was doing that with her now. He’d all but declared her his property, killed a man to take possession of her. And now Michael was carting her off to god knew where with a warning that he wouldn’t hesitate to punish her if she stepped a toe out of line.

Jesus Christ, Claire, have you lost your mind? She should be forming an escape plan, not worrying about the welfare of one captor while exchanging small talk with the other about the price tag of his sweet ride. Not once had she ever doubted her instincts to steer her wrong, but there was a first time for everything. She might have felt at ease with these guys, but they were dangerous. Deadly. And obviously insane considering the fact that they’d tipped their teeth with fake vampire fangs. She hadn’t been able to get out of the car before they’d locked her inside. Didn’t matter, though. They’d have to stop soon, and when they did she’d make a break for it.

Forty-five minutes later, Claire found herself staring out of the window at the twinkling lights of L.A. from the top of a tall hill. This far from the city, it looked like a vast universe, stars shining through the endless darkness. So this was how the 1 percent lived. Looking down from the clouds like the gods of Olympus at the world below. It was just her luck that she’d be kidnapped by wealthy psychopaths. She’d have to endure the added torture of being taunted by luxury she didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of ever knowing.

And to top it all off, it appeared they were planning on holding her prisoner inside of a freaking castle. Guards sat in a little building beside a wrought-iron gate waiting to let the car through. Who in the hell was this Michael that he needed a small army’s worth of protection? She didn’t doubt that they were well armed and even better trained. Deranged cosplayer was taking a backseat to drug czar at the moment. Holy. Shit.

“I don’t envy your power bill,” Claire remarked wryly as Ronan pulled into a paved circular driveway complete with a massive marble fountain. Beside the six-car garage, the main house stretched on for what seemed like miles. Hell, Claire had seen a hotel or three smaller than this house. In fact, she had a hard time wrapping her head around why anyone would need a house this big. A small village could have taken up residence here and the chances of running into any of your housemates would still be slim. Claire was fairly sure she could live her entire life off of the money Michael—or Ronan, or whoever—had paid for this place.