“Why don’t you start at the beginning, sweet pea.”

Jessica recounted the events of the last couple of days in detail, starting with the massage moment, all the way up till present. Everything that had been swimming around in Jessica’s mind came pouring out, just like when she was a teenager, confessing everything she was thinking and feeling to her gran. She did leave some of the more intimate details out as they weren’t pertinent.

Maureen listened intently and was silent for a moment after Jessica had finished speaking.

“Jessica, it sounds like your healing powers have been unlocked and awakened by this whole ordeal.”

“Gran, can we maybe not get too into that right now. There’s sort of a lot going on, and I’m overwhelmed as it is. I promise, I’m ready to listen but some other time.”

“Baby girl, there is no other time. I wanted you to face this long ago, to be ready when you needed your powers the most. But there is no more time; you need to face this. And you need to do so quickly if you want to help Roman.”

“I don’t understand what the two things have to do with one another,” Jessica said.

Maureen looked at her for a long moment before touching Jessica’s arm.

“Honey, you guys are bonded mates. This is a for-life kind of deal, sweet pea.”

Jessica felt her heart leap in her chest. She knew she should have denied something so ridiculous instantly, but somewhere deep down, she knew that her grandma was telling the truth. It explained so much. Why Roman consumed every waking thought Jessica had? Why she felt so alive and free when she was with him? Why she craved his touch even though she had only known him for so little time? He really, truly was her soul mate.

But what the hell had she done if vampires and soul mates were real?

CHAPTER 11

Roman slowly came to with a groan. He felt like trash. Or, more accurately, he felt like trash that had been vomited back up by a raccoon. Whatever drug he had been slipped left him with a pounding headache and a foul aftertaste in the back of his mouth.

Creaking one eye open, he winced at the harsh bright light that greeted him. When he managed to force his eyes open, he could tell he was a far cry away from the bar. As best as he could tell, he seemed to be in a cell made from thick, hard plastic. Craning his neck to look at the ceiling, he saw several round holes. Couldn’t spring for a five-star hotel?

The woman from the bar was sitting across from him, casually flipping through a weathered-looking novel. She blinked up at him and grinned viciously.

“Finally awake, I see. Hope you got some good shut-eye.” She placed the book on the floor next to the chair.

“I’ve had better nights’ sleep,” Roman retorted.

The woman smirked at him. She uncrossed her legs and strode over to him, like a cat who was more than pleased she found a mouse in distress. Well, just be glad there’s a plastic dome in front of you; otherwise, that smile would be ripped right off your face.

“I don’t have to make this any more unpleasant on you than necessary. All my colleagues and I want is for you to answer a few questions. If you’re a good boy, we may consider letting you off easy.”

Roman couldn’t help but snort. Yeah, sure. You’ll just let me go, and we’ll all sit in a circle and sing fucking campfire songs together. He wondered if there were any vampires who actually fell for that speech. He knew this group long enough to know that mercy was the last thing they were known for when it came to captured vampires.

The woman tapped against the plastic wall and eyed him curiously. She was studying him with a particular interest. As if he, in particular, was something that held a great importance to her that was different than any of the other vampires they probably had here.

“You know, I remember seeing you and your fellow bloodsuckers going after our caravan. Normal thing, getting raided by vampires. I’ll admit, for leeches, you’re all quite loyal to your kind. But I don’t understand how you survived our little tête-à-tête

,” she glanced down at him curiously. Roman shrugged nonchalantly, and he could have sworn he saw the edge of her mouth twitch.

“See, we have been experimenting with new toys to take you and your little friends down. And that particular soldier you fought while raiding our caravan cut you with something extra special.

“Do go on,” Roman smirked.

“Oh, please. I’m not going to share an important secret like that. All you need to know is that before you, no other vampire has survived being cut by that blade. I want to know why.”

Roman had no clue what she was talking about either. All he knew was that after Jessica had touched the blood, the wound had closed up as though it had never been there in the first place. And like hell was he going to implicate her in this bullshit.

“Guess on top of being sexy, I’m also special,” he said.

The woman rolled her eyes, no longer pretending to be amused.

“The thing is, everything would go a lot better for you if you just gave us something to work with here.”

Roman shrugged once again and glared at her. He didn’t know what she would do if he didn’t give her the answers she wanted, but he knew by that glint in her eyes, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Then how about something simpler for your thick skull to grasp? Tell me a few things about your friends in the Knights of Darkness. Anything at all, like where you meet, who the leader is. Just give me one teensy tidbit, and I promise we’ll let you go.”

“You aren’t nearly hot enough for me to converse with. So, why don’t you cut out this ‘we have ways of making you talk’ crap and let me out of this cell. Then we can tango, though I guarantee you won’t enjoy it.”

To Roman’s surprise, the woman only began laughing.

“I was hoping you would say something like that,” she snapped her fingers sharply.

The air holes at the top of his cell shut with a surprisingly soft “thump.” A hissing sound tickled Roman’s ears, and the air grew thick with a sickly-sweet scent. Roman gagged and instinctively clutched at his throat. A heaviness washed over his body, and his vision swam. He fought to stay conscious, but whatever the gas was, it was strong.

“Don’t expect to wake up quite as nicely this time,” the woman said. The sneer on her face was the last thing Roman saw before the gas knocked him out completely.

When consciousness came again, Roman woke up in even less comfortable circumstances. From what he could tell, he was strapped to a hard, X-shaped table, his wrists and legs restrained with a hard metal that pulsated with UV light that slightly stung against his skin. Well, Xavier might get a kick out of this, but I certainly don’t.

He looked up, and his captor, along with a few other humans, loomed over him. The way they looked down at him made Roman feel almost like he was the main course in some demented feast.

“You really should have been a little more forthcoming with us. Now we have to do things the unpleasant way.” The woman glowered.

Roman was about to retort when one of the humans pulled out a long, thin needle. Before Roman could even suck in a breath, the instrument was jammed violently underneath his fingernail. A sharp jolt went through his body, but he forced himself not to wince, even as they stuck even more needles underneath his nails. Even when they asked him questions, he kept his face stoic and mouth shut.

“I don’t think he needs those fingernails, do you?” someone said. One by one, they painfully jammed the needles harder and used them as leverage, ripping the nails entirely off. The skin stung as it was exposed to air. He gasped involuntarily.

“Let’s turn up the heat a bit.”

Roman could hear something like a dial being turned. The next thing he knew, the skin underneath his restraints was burning as the UV grew even brighter. The smell of his flesh bubbling churned his stomach, and he was certain the skin would melt down to the bone.

Despite himself, Roman screamed. More questions were thrown his way, but all Roman could focus on was the searing pain in his wrists.

“We don’t want him to strain against the restraints too badly. Let’s give the little leech a treat now, why don’t we,” one of the voices said.

A sharp prickling sensation tickled his arm, and before Roman knew it, ice was flooding his veins. But with it did not come relief. Instead, his limbs locked up rigidly and his stomach churned violently. Don’t throw up. Don’t you dare throw up in front of them! He forced the stomach acid creeping up his throat back down.

He would have let loose a string of curses in English and the old tongue of his home, but the words wouldn’t escape Roman’s lips. His tongue felt heavy and slow as if it had been entirely coated in Novocain.