“Not thirsty?” he asked and downed his own drink.
Rhiannon’s Law #5. Don’t accept drinks from strangers. Not unless you want to be drugged, date raped and given all sorts of STDs, and not necessarily in that order.
“I don’t drink things unless they come from a sealed container.” Anyone could drop something into an open glass. I was a bartender back in the normal world, and it was a known fact. I’d seen too many women fall victim to men who liked to add a little something extra to the concoctions they offered to them.
“Then you must be special to one of them. I haven’t tasted soda since I was a boy.” He plopped the glass on the table in front of me. “I’m amazed your master let you stray so far. I’m sure he’ll be upset to find you’ve been taken.”
“Look.” I leaned forward and placed my own glass on the table. “This isn’t what you think, and I don’t really have the time or patience to explain. You’re going to have to let me walk out of here. The sooner, the better. I have somewhere I needed to be yesterday.”
“I bet you have somewhere you need to be, and lucky you, we’ve brought you here.” He stood and gazed down at me. “Distance from vampires will allow you to see clearly. With a little bit of time, you’ll understand the way of things.” He smirked and returned to the kitchen.
“I am not staying here, you have no idea who you’re messing with,” I warned quietly, refraining from screaming at him like I wanted to. Acting like a raging bitch wouldn’t help me now. I had to attempt to pacify him and, in the doing, bargain with the asshole. “I need to leave.”
“Not happening. Your bedroom is right there.” He appeared at the kitchen counter and pointed behind me, gesturing to a door to the left. “I suggest you get comfortable. This is home now.”
“Like hell it is.”
“All of you black swans are exactly the same, so don’t think you’re any different. You get swept up in the nightside and forget all about your own kind. A few months here will open those eyes of yours. If it doesn’t…” He cleared his throat, shaking his head again, and said, “Let’s hope it won’t come to that.”
“You don’t get it,” I snapped, standing smoothly without the betrayal of my knee, and walked toward the elevator. “I can’t stay here. I have something important I have to take care of. You worry about your business and I’ll worry about mine. Fight your war with someone who gives a shit. Me? I’ll take my chances with the creepy crawlies outside.”
I pushed the button repeatedly. The round, flickering yellow circle indicated the device was working. My heart rate increased, the few contents left in my stomach shifting, and I tasted bile at the back of my throat. I didn’t want to vomit, not right now. However, once I was safely inside the confines of the neat and clean elevator, I could let my stomach do its thing.
A ding sounded and the doors opened. Two men dressed in camouflage pants and black wife beaters were waiting inside.
“Is there a problem?” one questioned. Their eyes trained on me as their hands drifted to the firearms at their sides. I loved men who felt superior simply because they had bulk and an automatic weapon on you.
Spineless pricks.
I lowered my head, exhaling in exasperation. This was the craziest fucking shit. Too bad I’d probably be repeating that very same thing eventually. I couldn’t seem to stop trumping myself when it came to weird predicaments. I always found a way to bump into crazy situations.
“I think she understands what’s going to happen if she tries to leave,” Carter said from behind me. The big-ass bastard on the right nodded his buzzed blond head, his pectoral muscles flexing as he pushed the button and closed the doors with another cheery ding.