Chapter 3: Home sweet CASTLE

"I thought you said Rose owned the café." Sentinel sounded like some kind of warrior or guard. Why was the owner of a small-town café the one who would make sure the Djinn wouldn't stick around? "She does." He smiled down at me and squeezed my shoulder. "Why did they call you a Protector? Like it's an official title?" "It is an official title. There are only four of us and we help protect the town." "From Djinn?" "From anyone or anything that would threaten it." I lay my head on his shoulder and yawned, exhaustion and lack of sleep catching up to me. Erick moved his hand from my shoulder to the curve of my waist and pulled me even closer to his hard body. The touch was sensual and comforting, reassuring me it was okay to rest. My mind wouldn't slow down enough to let me slip away, though. Everything I'd seen today kept swirling around, prompting more questions, more fears, anxiety about Kevin, anxiety about Darius. Even a little anxiety about Erick's expectations of me. What did he want from me? There weren't many good Samaritans left in the world. At least not in the places I'd visited. People these days were afraid if they held out a hand, it'd get bitten off. And most of the time, it did. "Bailey." His voice was dark and velvety. The dream I was having put both of us in a giant bed with satin sheets and no worries in the world. The things he was doing to me would even put the slutty bartender at the Seafood Shack to shame. The last thing I wanted to do was come out of my euphoric dreamland. "Bailey. We're here." Here? Where? I popped my eyes open and my cheeks burned. My head was in his lap. Holy shit! I pushed myself up, off his muscular thighs, and just sat for a moment, open-mouthed. Words wouldn't form. I didn't know what to say. No wonder I'd been having naughty dreams. "I'm glad you finally got a little rest." I snapped my jaw shut. "Um, yeah. I …" Rest? I'm not sure what I'd gotten could be called rest. My heart raced and my core clenched, suddenly very aware of his maleness. The handsome curve of his jaw. The way the tip of his tongue ran across the seam of his lips. The mischievous sparkle in his dreamy, blue eyes. Wait! Lips. He'd licked his lips and now he smiled at me. He knew what I was thinking. Or feeling. Or something. Hadn't he said he could smell human pheromones? Embarrassment darkened my cheeks further. They had to be beet red by now. Could he sense my attraction to him? How could he not? My own body had turned against me. I didn't need this—a third guy to juggle through this mess, even if he was hot and acting as my personal bodyguard. A chuckle from halfway up the bus distracted me and I caught a smirk from Garrett before he turned and walked to the front. Damn it. The wolf could probably smell my traitorous pheromones, too. Wait. No. He could hear every single naughty thought. How could I live surrounded by these dangerous, intimidating men who could sense everything I thought and felt? When I looked back at Erick, he'd narrowed his eyes and stared with an intensity that made me shiver. Jealousy? A whimper slipped from my throat without my permission and I covered my mouth—as if that would help cover the sound. He could probably hear things a half-block away. Vampires were supposed to have extraordinary hearing. His demeanor softened again as he gestured toward the front of the bus. "Would you prefer to meet Rose now and get some breakfast or get cleaned up first?" I stood and walked down the aisle of the now empty bus. Everyone else had disembarked. "I'm starving, but I think it would be better for everyone if I took a shower first." My stomach rumbled embarrassingly at the mention of food, but my desire not to smell like a sewer rat was stronger. The sun still hung low in the Texas sky. But, I had no idea what time it was, maybe eight-ish. I stepped down from the bus onto a concrete sidewalk. I glanced across the street, taking in the small-town charm. Worn brick and battered, wooden signs gave an antique look to the town. Rose's Café lay just a few buildings to my right. Flanking the café was the sheriff's and fire marshal's office. They appeared to share the small space. And I didn't see a bay for a fire engine. Strange. I walked a few steps away from the bus and continued to examine my surroundings. It was quiet. A few people were making their way along the sidewalks toward the café, along with all the other passengers from the bus. I didn't see any other restaurants in the circle. There was a clothing boutique, a library, a hardware store, a pawn shop, and a farmers' market. Then I stopped and swallowed. Directly across from the café was a castle—albeit a modernized version, but a castle nonetheless. Square with rounded towers on each of its four corners. Turrets, parapets, and archery slits abounded. The only things missing were a moat and drawbridge. I knew it was a castle because when I'd holed up in a barn in Tennessee, I'd found boxes of contraband books hidden in the cellar. Who could have imagined there would be a castle in some little town in West Texas? "It's nice, isn't it?" Erick's voice was closer than I expected. "It's a castle." That came out sounding stupid, but he just nodded. "Yes, the brothers insisted. They are a bit set in their ways. The Castle shelters The House of Lamidae and is very private. Only guests willing to keep their secrets are allowed to remember ever seeing it." "So you influence memories, like you did with the bus driver?" "When necessary." He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward one of the many streets leading away from the circle. Warmth spread through my body from the point of his touch. "My apartment is this way." We walked past the café and I couldn't help but peek inside the large glass windows. It looked like any other café—bright and busy. Nothing about it seemed supernatural. I took one more look around before we turned the corner. In the center of the town circle was a grassy field with a raised stone platform in the middle—like a stage of sorts. There were markings on the side of the stone, but nothing I could read. Weird. "So the House of Lamidae … or should I call it the Castle? What is it? If I am allowed to ask, that is. It sounds like a church or a cult." Or both… He chuckled. "It's a fetish club." I coughed, stopped, and turned to meet his gaze. "Like, a sex club?" I squeaked. "Like for spanking and whips and stuff?" "It depends on the partners, but yes." He winked. "There are plenty of spankings, whips, and other stuff." I was terrified and curious at the same time. Was it just for Others or did they let humans in, too? Also, what had he meant by other stuff? My gut said there was a lot more to the House of Lamidae than he was letting on. Who would build a whole castle just to be a sex club? A castle was meant to protect something. At least that's what those old history books had said. "I had hoped you would stay with me, but the Blackmoor brothers have plenty of spare rooms. They don't mind housing the occasional guest." He pushed me into a slow walk again. "It's your choice, kjaere." The tone of his voice sent delicious shivers down my spine. There was a first time for everything, but I was nowhere near ready to see the inside of a fetish club. Though, if he asked, I had a feeling I would follow him anywhere. I just hoped he'd give me time. A lot of time. We turned another corner and came to a stop in front of a stone and red brick townhome. A small stairway with eight steps led to the front door. To the left, a bay window jutted out, its curve reaching to the second floor. The architecture was beautiful and familiar—similar in style to the brownstone apartments I'd cleaned in New York. I was able to hide in that big city for almost a year before Kevin had found me. Erick climbed the stairs ahead of me and opened the door. I walked in and stopped in the middle of his foyer, fearful of tracking in the dirt and stench I knew clung to me. His place was immaculate. White carpet, accented by black slate tile beneath my feet in the entry and again across the apartment in the kitchen. Black and white leather furniture was perfectly arranged through the living room. A few picture frames had been placed on the mantle above the brick fireplace. A grand staircase with a beautifully ornate wooden handrail lay to my right, leading to the second floor. He walked past me and turned on a lamp next to one of the large, white couches. "Come, the shower is in the bedroom upstairs." His bedroom? Didn't he have a nice hall bathroom somewhere? I moved across the room toward him, but detoured into the kitchen. Spotless. Why wouldn't it be? He was a vampire. No need to cook. "Bailey." I jumped, startled from my thoughts. He leaned against the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. "I didn't touch anything." The words fell out of my mouth before I could think. He liked things clean and I was the furthest thing from that right now. "I don't mind you looking around." His voice was calming, reassuring me he wasn't angry over my little side-step into his kitchen." "You have a beautiful home," I offered. "Not nearly as beautiful as the woman standing in the center of it." Heat rose in my cheeks. He had an uncanny way of making that happen. And there he went, complimenting me when I resembled a trampled, worn-out, dishrag. I might actually feel sexy and beautiful if he would just let me take a shower. Preferably not the shower in his bedroom. Of course, all I had to change into was a bright, neon pink tank top and some yoga shorts. Yeah, that would make a great impression on the townspeople. He moved forward from the door jamb with the grace of a lethal predator. My breath caught in my chest. He reached up and caressed the side of my cheek as he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently over mine. They were so soft and tender, completely taking me by surprise. He smelled good and tasted even better—sweet with just a trace of the peppermint I'd smelled earlier. I ran my tongue along the seam of his mouth and he met my tease with pure hunger. He pressed harder against my mouth and plunged his tongue inside, tasting every corner and nipping gently at my bottom lip. Trembling against him, I moaned into his mouth. My arms moved to encircle his neck and his slipped around my waist, pressing my belly more firmly against his hard cock. I ground my hips against it before my brain registered what I was doing. He growled into my mouth and suddenly I remembered he wasn't just a man. Panic set in. He was a vampire. But he was also a man. He smelled like a man. Felt like a man. He kissed better than any man who'd ever kissed me before. Not that there had been many. He pulled away suddenly. I met his intense stare and my bottom lip trembled. I knew he could sense my fear, but I really wished his face was a little easier to read. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." He gestured past him, back across the living area and up the stairs. "I'm not scared of you, I just …" "It is all right to be frightened, kjaere. It's a natural preservation instinct. It's been a long day and I shouldn't have pushed. Please forgive me." I nodded. I did forgive him. Frightened as I was, I still trusted him to keep me safe. Plus, the kiss hadn't been bad. In fact, it'd been quite the opposite and a spark ran through my body as I remembered the feel of his lips on mine. He smiled and slipped his hand down to the small of my back, pushing me gently toward the stairway. He knew I was aroused. I couldn't help the stupid smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth either. My brain needed to have a chat with my hormones, 'cause my body definitely favored exploring more than just Erick's mouth. We climbed the stairs and I waited at the top, not sure which door to head toward. He stepped past and opened the double doors directly in front of us, displaying a beautiful room with a high, coffered ceiling. The white carpets continued and I swallowed as my eyes fell on an ornately carved, king-sized, mahogany, four-poster bed. It was draped in a black crushed velvet comforter and had at least a half-dozen pillows stacked against the headboard. It looked so terribly comfortable and inviting. The rest of the room was decorated sparsely, but the furniture matched the bed. Dark mahogany that had been polished until it shined with a mirror-like reflection. I turned toward a noise that came from across the room. He'd opened another door and gestured me to enter. I stepped past him and into the palatial bathroom. The gorgeous, black slate tile reappeared, accented by natural stone and white marble on the walls. A whirlpool tub the size of my old apartment bathroom was centered in the middle. A large shower with glass walls was positioned in the far corner. There was one set of sinks to my left and another diagonally across from me. The toilet was most likely hidden behind the closed single door to my right. There was a set of double doors beyond the sinks to the left. I drooled at the thought of having a closet big enough to need such a grand opening. "It's like a dream." A chuckle rolled from his chest. "That's what my sister says, too. She helped design the master suite and bathroom." "I've never seen anything so beautiful. I hate to get it dirty." "Don't worry about it. I have a cleaning service that comes twice a week. They make sure everything stays in perfect order so I don't have to." "Must be nice." He shrugged. "It's not a big deal. She just snaps her fingers and the job is done. Do you need help getting undressed?" I whirled to face him and opened my mouth to snap, but the broad smile and twinkle in his eye melted my offense instantly. "I think I can manage, thank you," I drawled out and rolled my eyes. "Just wanted to make sure," he answered. "I'll take your clothes and toss them, I don't think they are worth trying to salvage." "I don't have any other clothes!" His grin widened. "Kjaere, I'm going to get you something new. Calliope will have something in her shop around the corner." "I can't … I …" Didn't he understand I had nothing? I couldn't buy anything. Being indebted to a man was not smart. But, he'd already saved my life on a couple of occasions. Still, I had no intention of stripping down in front of him and handing over my clothes. He shook his head. "It's not just me. Calliope will insist when she meets you, anyway." "Is she … a vampire?" "No, she's a siren and our local stylist." He chuckled. "She makes all the clothes for everyone in the town. It helps keep her busy and out of trouble. Plus, she makes really nice clothes." "Out of trouble?" I asked, studying the clothes he wore. I didn't notice anything special about them. They fit well and surprisingly still smelled nice, even though he'd been sitting next to me most of the evening. "And what's a siren?" He shrugged his shoulders and stepped back to the door. "She's a little obsessive sometimes. It can become destructive. When Rose alighted on the idea of a clothing shop, Calliope fell in love with it." An obsessive-destructive siren that made clothes for a whole town? What wormhole had I fallen into? I'd never heard of a siren. In school we learned about vampires, werewolves, witches, and Djinn. That about covered it. "What does a siren do? Is she dangerous?" "She can be." He winked. "Don't worry about her. Just holler if you need me. There are fresh towels on the edge of the bathtub and robes just inside the closet." With one more of his heart-melting smiles, he closed the bathroom door and left me alone. I turned and glanced first at the shower and then the spa tub. "I might need a shower and a bath." My voice echoed around the bathroom and I grinned. Might as well take advantage while I'm here. Who knows how long before I have to run again? Kicking off my tennis shoes, I sat on the edge of the tub and peeled off my grimy socks. The smell was putrid. How had he managed to stand being near me? My shoes were ruined, too. I pulled off everything and piled it in the corner with my hobo-style purse then tiptoed across the bathroom to the shower. Once the door closed behind me, I turned on the water and squealed when it shot out, not only from the rainwater showerhead above me, but from spigots in the wall as well. It was like being attacked by garden sprayers. "Are you okay?" Erick's voice rumbled from just outside the shower. "Holy shit!" I scrambled to cover myself, but no amount of finagling would hide all of my naked body. I finally settled for crossing my arms over both of the girls. "What are you doing in here? Get out!" "I'm sorry." He backed away quickly. "I heard you scream and thought you'd slipped." "I'm fine. Please leave." He stooped and grabbed up my pile of dirty clothes before disappearing from the bathroom. I almost hollered when I realized he'd taken my purse too, but he didn't need anything I had. From the looks of this townhome, he had more money than he could ever spend. The purse was nothing special. He could get rid of all my stuff as long as he replaced it with something else. But if he thought I would walk around naked and be his slave, he could just keep dreaming. It didn't matter how attracted to him I was. I wouldn't be anyone's slave ever again. After shampooing my hair twice and using crazy amounts of soap and shower gel, I finally felt—and smelled—clean again. My body was still tense from the stress of the previous day. Hell, I'd probably be tense for the next few weeks. I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower onto a fluffy, white rug. The beautiful tub lay glistening in the middle of the bathroom. Sunlight from a skylight bathed the tub in a warm light. It couldn't hurt … right? I couldn't even remember the last time I'd taken a bath. Turning the handle, I started the hot water and glanced around for something to add. Nothing was in sight, but after perusing through the cabinets, I stumbled on several types of bath salts and bubble bath—probably his sister's stash. Women knew the essentials for a good bath. I poured in a healthy handful of the salts and several capfuls of the vanilla sugar bubble bath. The steam from the hot water filled the space with the scent of vanilla. It was perfect. Without a care in my mind, I stepped into tub and sank down to the bottom, allowing the scalding hot water to cover me inch by savory inch. Tension flowed from my muscles and even my anxiety about being in a strange vampire's house floated away on the scented steam. I could die a happy, clean woman in this bathtub. "Bailey?" Erick's velvety voice pulled me from my state of bliss. "Yes?" "I brought you some things. May I enter?" "I'm ..." I looked down. The bubbles completely covered my body. It's not like he would yank me out of the bathtub and eat me for breakfast. At least I didn't think he would. "Sure," I whispered. The door creaked and he stepped inside carrying an overflowing plastic drugstore bag. "I thought you might need the basics." He paused and stared at the floor. "Well, Calliope thought it and gave me a list. I hope these are acceptable." He proceeded to pull out one toiletry product after another—deodorant, feminine pads, toothbrush, toothpaste, hair brush, comb, nail set, shaving cream, and a razor. Oh I needed that. My legs felt like they were covered with the bristles from a sink scrubber. It'd been over a week since my last razor had officially gone dull. He glanced at me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. Then held up the can of shaving cream and razor. "Yes, please." A few steps put him beside the tub. He knelt down and handed me the desired items. Then he just sat there, staring. His eyes darkened with sexual hunger that even a blind woman could have sensed. My heart sped up in my chest and I dropped the can of shaving cream. He caught it before it hit the water and I gasped. I'd seen him move fast several times already, but it still surprised me. "Let me help you," he said, dipping his other arm into the bathwater and catching one of my ankles and pulling it up. I squeaked a little, but couldn't find the words to protest after he began kneading my sore calves with his strong fingers. He squirted a little gel onto my left leg and began smoothing the foaming cream over my skin. Each time he ventured past my knee, I held my breath. His fingers teased my skin until he'd coated my entire leg from ankle up to mid-thigh. Heat curled in my belly and I knew my traitorous pheromones were screaming loudly and clearly. I was aroused. And the only thing between his fingers and my throbbing pussy was a few inches of water and bath bubbles. He held out his lathered hand for the razor and I placed it in his palm. Within minutes he'd finished my entire leg. He pressed a soft kiss to my now satiny smooth knee. I peered down my leg and saw a tiny drop of red forming at my ankle. Pretty good for a guy. I usually nicked myself at least four or five times on each leg. When I looked back up, his nostrils flared and a ring of red had formed around his ocean blue irises. I yanked my foot backward, but he held it in place like it was locked in a vice. "Trust me, kjaere." "No! Don't influence me. I refuse to be a slave again." I struggled again, nearly sloshing water over the side, but I might as well have been kicking at a two-ton elephant. "You will never be a slave again, Bailey. I promise you." He raised my ankle to his lips and I trembled. This was it. He would drain me right here and now. All because of one drop of blood. After everything he'd done to protect me. Maybe Garrett had been right when he'd callously griped at Erick about washing what he planned to eat. Maybe that'd been his plan the whole time. He kissed the cut and then I felt his tongue sweep across my skin. Something like a cat's purr rumbled in his chest as he licked it once more before releasing my foot from his hold. That was it? "There. Was that so bad? I merely sealed your cut." "Bad? No, but I thought …" He reached out and caught my chin gently in his palm. "My eyes will change no matter what. It's instinctual. But it doesn't mean I've lost control. I will never bite you unless I'm invited to do so." There was so much about these people, these Others, that humans didn't know. At least the average human didn't. I'd learned more in the span of one night than I'd ever learned in school. "Let's do your other leg, yes?" I nodded and his hand slipped from my chin and back into the water. My breath hitched, waiting for him to touch other parts of me, but he didn't. He caught my other leg and lifted it just high enough to lather with shaving cream, but not enough to expose me. The bubbles were still in full force. Attraction simmered between us, but I just couldn't go there. Not yet, anyway. I was able to relax a little. His hands were gentle, but firm. He worked his hands up and down my other leg until it was completely covered and then picked up the razor again. A few minutes later he had finished without so much as one little knick. I rubbed my legs together under the water, enjoying the silky sensation. Nothing like smooth legs to make a girl feel good. "Thank you." I was surprised how easily the words came out. "I …" What should I say? I didn't know what to tell him and what to keep back. "You're welcome," he answered, flashing me a soft grin. "Why don't you finish here, then try on some of the things Calliope sent over? Rose is expecting us soon." He stood and took a few steps toward the sink behind him. He patted a stack of clothes on the counter. "I'll be just outside if you need me." He slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I moved to the edge of the tub and shaved carefully between my legs, thankful to have a nice razor that wouldn't scrape and scratch my tender bits. It was amazing to feel smooth all over again. Rinsing the razor, I pushed the lever to drain the tub, grabbed the plush, white towel to my left, and stood. Cool air made me shiver and I wrapped the towel around my body, tucking the end between my breasts. When I stepped out onto the black tile floor, I was surprised. Heated floors. How amazing was that? Even in a Texas summer, it was nice not to get chilled in the bathroom. The floor was perfectly warm and the air was a nice balmy temperature. I pulled the big towel loose and squeezed as much water from my hair as I could, then wove it into a loose braid and knotted it on itself. It would hold for a while. At least until it was halfway dry. A pretty, purple lace bra and panty set lay across a pair of dark jeans and a sparkly silver, short-sleeved tee. The bra looked huge, compared to my old one. Couldn't the man have read the tags in my old one before just taking a wild guess? Not every woman on the planet had jugs like Darlene the bartender. Oh, well. Beggars couldn't be choosers. I didn't have a choice really. My girls were too big to go au natural. I'd have to make do until it could be swapped out for something closer to my size. As I snapped it in place, the strangest sensation tickled my skin. The fabric was shrinking, conforming to my body. The cups were shrinking, too, clinging and changing, pushing my breasts up just the right amount. I wouldn't have been able to find a more perfect fit. Snatching the panties, I pulled them on. They were so loose, the elastic in the waist barely held them over my hips. It only lasted a second. They too shrunk and formed into cute low-waisted hipsters, exactly my favorite style. I squealed with delight. There were no sizes on the clothes, because the clothes changed to fit me— Unbelievable! The jeans were next. They were formless and loose for about two seconds before they lengthened to my height and conformed to my body as if they'd been cut just for me. I couldn't help but turn and admire my ass in the mirror. The pants were nicer than anything I'd ever been able to afford. The underwear, too. Usually I made do with stuff off the clearance rack at the cheap general stores. After admiring my reflection one last time, I pulled on the silver metallic tee and watched in fascination as it, too, changed and conformed into something that fit perfectly and highlighted the lovely bit of cleavage the magickal bra had produced. The woman looking back at me was someone I didn't recognize. She was clean and well dressed. Maybe even pretty enough to be called beautiful. Who was I kidding? Being pretty had never helped me in life. It'd only gotten me trapped and harassed by men. Why would it be any different this time around? Erick Thorson was still a man. And men liked to have their needs fulfilled. I wouldn't fool myself into thinking he just wanted to help me out of the goodness of his cold, dead, vampire heart. All men wanted something. My short years on this earth had taught me that was a constant. Single women in this day and age were hunted like big game. Women my age were targets for slavers, whorehouses, labor camps, baby factories. The cruelty of the world knew no bounds. I could only dream of a world I'd read about in secret –a world where freedom and choice were important and protected. Where men and women were equal and found happiness together. When the truth of the Others came to light in 2046, those things disappeared. The government taught women that they had to do what the men in their life dictated—no exceptions. Even Texas, with it's more liberal views, still made sure women knew their place. But even the men were only free if they followed the letter of the law. Anyone who deviated from the expectations was considered an outlaw and was hunted, imprisoned or worse. The vast majority of the female population was married off early in life, usually by age seventeen or eighteen. I'd escaped that particular fate because I was an orphan. Unfortunately, that meant I was tossed out on my ass when I turned eighteen. Because I had no family to speak for me and protect me, I was considered part of the lowest class. Even though I waited tables at restaurants, most people assumed I whored as well. I didn't, but I'd come close several times. Hunger could make you consider just about anything. Hunger and fear had driven me to take a chance with Kevin and he'd almost killed me. Now I was in another man's house, starving and afraid.