Read Blood and Snow Volumes 1-4: Blood and Snow, Revenant in Training, The Vampire Christopher, Blood Soaked Promises for Free Online Page A
Authors: Rashelle Workman
shut.
Chapter 8
W hen I opened my eyes, I immediately realized I wasn’t in the dining room any more, but lying on a satin-soaked bed. Thick, white curtains sealed me in like leftover spicy tofu in a takeout box. Sitting up, the slick red sheets fell into my lap, and saw I wasn’t wearing my clothes anymore. Instead I had on a black silk nightgown with thin straps.
What in the world, I thought, to bewildered to be nervous. I remembered I’d been tired. Perhaps the old man had put me to bed. But where were the guys? I needed to get out of here. Hopefully they were okay. We still had a Musical to attend tonight.
“Gabe,” I called out, trying to find a separation in the curtains.
“Hello, Snow White.” It was a male voice, low and soft. It sounded familiar, but it wasn’t Gabe’s.
“Who’s there?” A little more vigorously, I ran my hands over their velvety softness, searching for an opening.
I heard a click, and the room was blanketed in darkness.
“W-What’s going on?” My voice didn’t sound like my own. It’d raised an octave.
This is what terror feels like, I told myself, standing up on the mattress, trying to pull the curtains from the frame. “Where’s Gabe? Where’s the old man?”
“Relax, beautiful. You’ve been chosen by her Highness, and the Queen always gets her way.”
Even freaked, I noticed a twinge of regret, or remorse in his words. Focusing on that was pointless though. Escaping. Getting out of there in one piece, that was priority number one.
I’d moved from one side of the bed to the other, trying to get out. Without meaning to I stepped off the edge, and between the curtains and the mattress. When my foot hit the floor, a sharp pain zinged my knee, but I barely noticed. Swinging my other leg around, I placed it on the floor, scooted onto all fours, and climbed out of the curtains.
Free! I let out a sob of relief, but quickly covered my mouth. If I couldn’t see, then maybe he couldn’t either. Wiping my eyes, I stuck my hands out in front of me, feeling for the wall, or a chair, or a door, and took a cautious step forward. My knee gave, and I whimpered.
“This isn’t funny,” I said, my teeth chattering.
A moment later, I bumped into something. It was pliable yet solid. Apprehensively, I touched it, trying to figure out what it was. It wasn’t a door, or a chair.
But a person.
The face was unshaved. His hair soft, and thick. Shoulders broad, and muscled. His chest taut. When my mind realized what my hands were doing, I screamed, and took a step backward. Strong hands grabbed me by the waist.
“Snow,” he whispered. His breath brushed against my cheek, and smelled of peppermint tea. A wave of relief washed over me. It had to be one of the brothers.
“Who is this?” He hadn’t really sounded like Dorian, Heathcliff, or Gabe, but he’d kept his voice low, so the possibility of it being one of them still existed. I reached up, and touched his face with my hands. It wasn’t Gabe. Of that I was certain. Heath was tall, like this guy, but he didn’t have scruff on his face. Dorian was taller than them both, and certainly as brawny.
“If you’re trying to tease me, I’m not laughing. I hurt my knee, and I’m scared.” Another sob grabbed my throat, but I clamped it down. I hoped my honesty would reprimand him, and he’d turn on the lights.
“I’m not teasing. This is deadly serious.” His grasp on my waist shifted as he pulled me firmly against him with one arm. His other hand slid into my hair. With a firm yank, he pulled my head back, exposing my neck.
I sucked in my breath, preparing to scream. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and I could see the red tinge in his eyes. They glowed the way the old man’s hallway had.
“Who are you,” I asked again.
He opened his mouth. I saw his white teeth, witnessed his canines grow. Without thinking I kneed him in the groin.
A look of humorous surprise sprang into his eyes before burning
Chapter 8
W hen I opened my eyes, I immediately realized I wasn’t in the dining room any more, but lying on a satin-soaked bed. Thick, white curtains sealed me in like leftover spicy tofu in a takeout box. Sitting up, the slick red sheets fell into my lap, and saw I wasn’t wearing my clothes anymore. Instead I had on a black silk nightgown with thin straps.
What in the world, I thought, to bewildered to be nervous. I remembered I’d been tired. Perhaps the old man had put me to bed. But where were the guys? I needed to get out of here. Hopefully they were okay. We still had a Musical to attend tonight.
“Gabe,” I called out, trying to find a separation in the curtains.
“Hello, Snow White.” It was a male voice, low and soft. It sounded familiar, but it wasn’t Gabe’s.
“Who’s there?” A little more vigorously, I ran my hands over their velvety softness, searching for an opening.
I heard a click, and the room was blanketed in darkness.
“W-What’s going on?” My voice didn’t sound like my own. It’d raised an octave.
This is what terror feels like, I told myself, standing up on the mattress, trying to pull the curtains from the frame. “Where’s Gabe? Where’s the old man?”
“Relax, beautiful. You’ve been chosen by her Highness, and the Queen always gets her way.”
Even freaked, I noticed a twinge of regret, or remorse in his words. Focusing on that was pointless though. Escaping. Getting out of there in one piece, that was priority number one.
I’d moved from one side of the bed to the other, trying to get out. Without meaning to I stepped off the edge, and between the curtains and the mattress. When my foot hit the floor, a sharp pain zinged my knee, but I barely noticed. Swinging my other leg around, I placed it on the floor, scooted onto all fours, and climbed out of the curtains.
Free! I let out a sob of relief, but quickly covered my mouth. If I couldn’t see, then maybe he couldn’t either. Wiping my eyes, I stuck my hands out in front of me, feeling for the wall, or a chair, or a door, and took a cautious step forward. My knee gave, and I whimpered.
“This isn’t funny,” I said, my teeth chattering.
A moment later, I bumped into something. It was pliable yet solid. Apprehensively, I touched it, trying to figure out what it was. It wasn’t a door, or a chair.
But a person.
The face was unshaved. His hair soft, and thick. Shoulders broad, and muscled. His chest taut. When my mind realized what my hands were doing, I screamed, and took a step backward. Strong hands grabbed me by the waist.
“Snow,” he whispered. His breath brushed against my cheek, and smelled of peppermint tea. A wave of relief washed over me. It had to be one of the brothers.
“Who is this?” He hadn’t really sounded like Dorian, Heathcliff, or Gabe, but he’d kept his voice low, so the possibility of it being one of them still existed. I reached up, and touched his face with my hands. It wasn’t Gabe. Of that I was certain. Heath was tall, like this guy, but he didn’t have scruff on his face. Dorian was taller than them both, and certainly as brawny.
“If you’re trying to tease me, I’m not laughing. I hurt my knee, and I’m scared.” Another sob grabbed my throat, but I clamped it down. I hoped my honesty would reprimand him, and he’d turn on the lights.
“I’m not teasing. This is deadly serious.” His grasp on my waist shifted as he pulled me firmly against him with one arm. His other hand slid into my hair. With a firm yank, he pulled my head back, exposing my neck.
I sucked in my breath, preparing to scream. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and I could see the red tinge in his eyes. They glowed the way the old man’s hallway had.
“Who are you,” I asked again.
He opened his mouth. I saw his white teeth, witnessed his canines grow. Without thinking I kneed him in the groin.
A look of humorous surprise sprang into his eyes before burning
Similar Books
Fireborn
Keri Arthur
Place of Confinement
Anna Dean
Empire of Sin
Gary Krist
Dungeons
Ivy M. Jones
Singing in the Shrouds
Ngaio Marsh
The Disfavored Hero
Jessica Amanda Salmonson
Teatro Grottesco
Thomas Ligotti
FLIGHT 22
Dyanne Davis
Horse Capades
Bonnie Bryant
