Chapter 8: He wants to buy me!

I'm caught before I can hurt myself and I find that I'm being held by a familiar person who seems to be making a dreadful habit of grabbing hold of my body. He is a little more travel worn than he was back at the camp, a little more weary around the edges perhaps, but this vampire is still the most attractive person I've ever seen and I feel a rush of annoyance at him for it.

He takes me off to a side, away from my new companions and away from the one place I've been fighting so hard to be.

I consider kicking him again in the place that it seems to hurt the most.

Perhaps he sees that on my face for he steps back a little, out of kicking range and fixes me with an icy stare. "What in the name of the Night are you trying to do here?"

"How is that any of your business?" I ask, done with any manners when it comes to this man. "I'm my own person, Mr Vampire, not a snack or a piece of food for you to fight over."

There's a little chorus of shocked gasps from the cart and I burn all the way up my cheeks but I don't drop my gaze.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "My name is Christian St-Clair. I'm a Centurion of the Vampire Empire. If you must address me, kindly call me sir or Centurion, not any of your mutt slang words."

"My name is Ella Crow but you can call me Ma'am," I snap back. "I'm seeing a lot of things that are one way for you and another way for everyone else, are you just plain allergic to fairness or is it accidental?"

There's a moment when he looks at me with such confusion on his face that I think for sure that he's speechless. No such luck.

"You are accepted by your pack, you are safe, why would you risk that to go into certain danger and possible death?" he demands, a frown pinching his perfect forehead. My fingers want to smooth it away. Traitors. "Why would you risk yourself like this?"

"I don't see how that's any of your concern," I say tartly. "You don't know anything about how my life is."

"Maybe that's so." He tips my head to one side, the sudden contact of his fingers on my cheek startling and enough to make my knees go to water. "I can fix that. I will buy you from her ladyship and send you to my parents in the empire. You can wait there for me until I return and I will have you as my personal food servant. You have an exceptional flavor and scent, it would be foolish not to preserve that. I will give you a comfortable and happy life without all this hardship."

He says all this. Every single word. While looking as though he thinks that he is making me some big grand offer, like I should be flattered. I'm the one who is speechless now and to my utter horror and amazement he takes this as agreement. Like I'm not staring at him as though he grew a second head!

"It is decided," he says and turns on his heel, snapping his fingers for me like a pet.

"It is not." I don't stomp my foot but it's a near thing.

"I will explain everything to her ladyship and make the arrangements for your travel," he continues as though I never said a word. I wonder momentarily if he listens when anyone else speaks or if I should take this as a sign that I'm particularly special.

"Mr Vampire," I say in my broadest, slowest drawl. "There's a misapprehension here and I think it's time we cleared it up. I'm afraid you've gotten the idea that I'd let you or anyone like you ever touch me or feed from me again without trying to take your damn head off. I'm so sorry for that Mr Vampire, sir. The truth is that I'd rather swallow poison and die."

He flushes, something to see in his pale cold cheeks, and his brows draw down fierce and angry. "I'm making you an offer that will change your life!"

"Into one of a slave, yes," I take a deep breath and count to five, dismissing him from my mind even though he's right there before me. "Leave me alone, I'm happy making my own choices."

He lets me be and I hurry back after the cart that I was dragged from, to be welcomed with open arms and clamors for what happened as though I'm some sort of heroine for telling a man I didn't want him. Plenty of women have managed to do that in this life.

There are introductions and I dramatically retell the whole conversation and then the bit about how I managed to sneak past him in the night. Sam claims I'm his new favorite besides Chrissy - the lovely girl - and Mitch - the little boy. I have never been a favorite anything so coming third is a big step up for me.

We have a long way to go yet, and I'm tired and sore and my cheek burns from where Christian St-Clair's fingers touched me. It's a start, sure, but it's also a sign that trouble is never all that far away. As if on cue, I am glancing towards the side of the cart and I see the vampire himself walking not too far off and watching me with murder in his eyes. I've made friends and an enemy in the space of ten or twenty minutes.

Friends are precious, but as I feel his gaze pricking the back of my neck and remember the way his fangs felt when they bit into me, I know that the enemy is the one I'm going to have to pay most attention to. Something tells me that vampires hold a grudge.