She sucked in a breath, but to her credit didn’t pull away. “Drago,” she whispered, his name on her lips a mixture of protest and pleasure.
“Carnal satisfaction is the path to your friend,” Drago murmured to Jolene, holding her tight, possessiveness thickening inside him with Alex’s presence, with the thought of anyone else touching her. “My carnal satisfaction.”
“How do I even know she’s alive?” she demanded.
“I guess you’ll have to trust me,” Drago commented, hoping she read between the lines and truly gave him her trust.
Alex interjected then. “You must pass our tests, Jolene. When you do, you will enter the Purple Room, which is where you will find Carrie.”
Her mouth opened and shut, her head tilting to study Drago before turning her attention on Alex. “And I can take her home?”
“What makes you so sure you’ll want to leave?”
Jolene inhaled a sharp breath. “If I make it to the Purple Room, can I take her home?”
Alex smiled. Evil. “If you can convince her to leave.”
Catherine’s hands stroked Alex’s shoulders. He cut her a look. “What is it you want?” His tone was sharp.
Drago took that moment to press his cheek to Jolene’s, his lips to her ear, choosing his words carefully, knowing that Alex would use his exceptional hearing to take in what he said to Jolene. “Surrender to me and you will not be sorry.”
Catherine’s voice filled the air. “You promised I could help you claim the Slayer’s daughter,” she purred, rounding the couch and joining Alex on the cushions, her body pressed tight against his side, her breasts hugging his arm.
Alex stared down at Catherine body, but he didn’t touch. And Drago knew it was because she wanted him to. Alex did nothing on anyone else’s terms. He’d touch only when he wished it. Not a moment sooner. “Drago asks for little,” Alex told her. “If he wants this woman, he shall have her. Besides,” he added, turning his attention to Jolene. “I’m quite looking forward to the show.”
“Please, Alex,” Catherine said, brushing her lips across his cheek. “You promised.”
Catherine, like all the vampire women at Purple Magic, enjoyed dominating her own kind. But that wasn’t what this was about. Catherine wanted Drago. What she didn’t seem to understand was that Alex knew this as well.
Alex gently stroked Catherine’s cheek, studying her as he did. Then, abruptly, he moved his hand and grabbed a huge handful of her hair. He pulled her mouth to his. Jolene wilted against Drago, and he fought the urge to comfort her.
“Jealousy does not become you, little one,” Alex said to Catherine, his lips lingering above hers. “Control it or I will. In fact, I expect you to watch Drago fuck her because fuck her he will. And you know what else?” he demanded, not expecting an answer from his whimpering captive. “He’ll enjoy every last minute of it.” He pressed his mouth to hers in a hard, punishment of a kiss before shoving her away.
Pushing to his feet, he smoothed his shirt, seemingly irritated to find a wrinkle on his upper shoulder. Then, attention back on Jolene, he smiled. The sharp angles of his square jaw and straight nose seemed to enhance the predatory gleam in his eyes.
Alex walked toward them, stopping only a few steps from Jolene, ravishing her with his stare. Drago squeezed her waist in warning. If she angered Alex, they could end up with trouble better avoided. Any sign of aggression toward Alex could escalate into danger. Fighting Alex was lethal. That was a job for Drago . . . when the time was right.
And now was not that time.
***
Jolene watched Alex approach and fought the urge to run. It was true, she’d come here telling herself she could fuck that man to get to Carrie. She knew now, she didn’t want to. Wasn’t sure she could. And the only thing standing between her and Alex was Drago. The closer Alex came, the more she melted into Drago, trying not to be too obvious. She trusted Drago, she realized. She didn’t know why, but she did. Perhaps because he was a Slayer. The more she thought about his duty, the more certain she became that he hadn’t turned against his own kind. Her mother and father had been clear about how deep the Slayer’s blood ran, how deep their commitment to the council. No. Drago wasn’t dirty. Drago was a Slayer undercover, trying to take down Alex. She felt it in her gut.
If she had to pay the price of pleasing, she wanted it to be with Drago. She’d wanted him, before this club and this night. And right now, she wanted him to take her someplace private, away from Alex.
Alex had now stopped in front of her, his eyes all but raping her with their blatant inspection. “She has a hot body,” Alex commented to Drago. “Beautiful breasts. Nice, ripe hips. Carrie tried to talk her into coming in before now.” Alex fixed Jolene in a challenging stare. “Your friend assured me I would enjoy you.”
Anger burned inside of Jolene, dark and furious, out of control, darkness borne of weeks of worry, weeks of guilt. Tears pinched the back of her eyes. Gone were rational thoughts. Emotion prevailed. “Liar,” she yelled at him. “Carrie would never say such a thing.” Drago tightened his grip around her waist, and she sensed his uneasiness, but she didn’t care. “Where is she? Where is Carrie?!”
Alex tilted his head back and laughed. “She’s a spitfire. I can’t wait to see you take this one down a notch.” His face went serious. “I have a good mind to do it for you.” He eyed Drago. “I’ll let you have her, but I get to set the stage.”
He snapped his fingers, and before she could blink, two men dressed in nothing but loincloths appeared. My God, was she in some sort of bad dream? Who wore freaking loincloths?
The next thing she knew, they grabbed her. “No,” she shouted, wanting to call for Drago. But instinct made her refrain, fearful that Alex would take him from her if he knew she found him a comfort. But the men were pulling her forward, toward a doorway in the corner. She wanted to call for Drago. He wasn’t supposed to let this happen. Slayers saved innocents.
“No!” she shouted at the men, kicking and fighting. “Let me go. Let go.” She eyed one of the men, frantic now, wild with desperation to get her feet planted solidly back on the ground and next to the Slayer. “Where are you taking me? Where?”
But there was no control to be found. In fact, she lost more of it as someone threw something over her head. Darkness enveloped her. Her chest tightened as she tried to reach for her face, but her arms were held by the men. The next thing she knew, she was lifted in the air and then thrown over someone’s shoulder.
Jolene forgot the bag over her face and the fact that she could barely catch her breath. She reached for something to hold on to, anything that might stop the movement forward. Her fingers grazed walls on either side of her. Close walls. She was in some sort of tunnel. Oh God. Who knew where it led? Her stomach tightened into knots and blood rushed to her head. She stopped fighting, somehow managing logical thought. Conserving her energy for a time when a struggle might offer results seemed her best option. But she wasn’t sure there was any hope for her now. I’m going to die. This must be what happened to Carrie.
But before the thought could take root, Jolene was on her feet, and her hands were stretched far to her sides. Cold metal closed around her wrists, and then the bag was ripped from her head. She blinked into a dimly lit room. Red silk draped a massive bed and lined windows that led nowhere.
And before her stood a man.
Drago.
Five
Jolene stared at Drago. She’d been willing to do what was necessary to save Carrie, but she’d hoped it wouldn’t have to come to what it had. “The chains aren’t necessary,” she whispered, jerking against the restraints because she couldn’t help herself.
His brow lifted, arms crossing in front of his broad chest and she could feel him pressing into her mind, trying to enter. She rejected his attempt, blocking him with all her energy. Only one other had ever entered her mind, and that had been her father. He’d spoken to her in her mind, and taught her how to shield herself from in
truders. She used those skills now. Somehow, giving that part of herself away felt like the ultimate invasion, and chained to a wall, she simply couldn’t bear it.
Drago’s teeth ground together. “Trust me, little one. You must submit. Give yourself to it. Don’t fight what you can’t change.”
He didn’t give her time to answer. With a wave of his hand, he motioned the men in loincloths forward. Suddenly, her clothes were being cut from her body, knives ripping away the silk and cloth with perfect precision. She could feel the hot breath of one of the men on her neck and shoulder. Feel their lusty stares as they pulled her shirt away and left her bare breasted.
Jolene squeezed her eyes shut, mortified. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a bad dream. A nightmare. She braced herself for their hands only a moment before she felt their exploration. Rough hands kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples. Fingers slid between her thighs and across her clit.
Worse, she felt arousal take hold. It made her ashamed. Embarrassed. Part of her wished for the drugs they’d mentioned. Anything to allow her an escape from—not just these men—but herself. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t find her voice. It was frozen somewhere inside the trauma of what was happening.
In the midst of the rage in her mind, Jolene heard Drago’s voice. Abruptly, the men moved away, but she didn’t dare open her eyes. Not immediately. She didn’t want to see these strangers looking at her. So she waited . . . expecting their return.
After several seconds, when they didn’t come, she forced her lashes upward and found the hot stare of Drago. She swallowed against the heat in his gaze, her eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, looking for the men. They stood at the door, their loincloths gone, their bodies naked. Only remotely did she take in their shaved heads and broad shoulders. What she did notice were their cocks. Exposed and hard. And their eyes filled with lust. Telling her what they wanted. Her. They wanted her. She shivered beneath their scrutiny.
“You said you would do whatever it took to find Carrie,” Drago said, drawing her attention, his voice low.
She studied his face, looking for his intentions beneath an indecipherable mask. He still wore his clothes. Black slacks and a black, well-tailored button-up shirt, yet still he oozed pure sensuality. But it was more than that. He had an air of darkness. Jolene wasn’t sure what to expect from him. Nor could she figure out why, chained to a wall, stripped of her blouse and skirt, she wanted to trust him.
Her throat felt so dry, she barely managed to speak. “I . . . I know what I said.”
“You must pay for entry into the club. To give satisfaction and pleasure.” He paused, his eyelids lowering as he started at her feet and moved upward, giving her a thorough perusal. When his eyes once again met hers, he said, “If I send them away, you must agree to do anything and everything I say. When and if you leave this club, it will be because I allow it.”
As his words lingered in the air, he walked toward her and there was more than fear inside her as he approached. More than apprehension. She felt . . . hot. Aroused. Like she had back in his apartment. It was as if her body responded without her consent. In fact, the fear of injury slipped away, replaced by the frightening feeling of losing herself to this man. To the here and now. She tracked his progress, feeling the warmth of anticipation in her body despite the fear that laced her mind. She swallowed. His state of dress made her feel, in her own undressed state, all the more . . . exposed.
Only a few steps separated them when he stopped. “Do they stay or go, Jolene?” he asked.
She swallowed against the nerves that made her heart leap to her throat. It felt as if Drago stalked her, though he now stood in one place. Like she was the prey and he the beast. Yes. That was it. There was an animal-like quality to Drago. Dangerous. And male. God, he was so masculine. So . . . sexual. A man like this would take a woman and leave her with nothing but desire. He’d take all she was and all she might ever be. And in that moment, she knew once Drago claimed her body, she would never, ever, be the same. Just as Carrie hadn’t been the same after that first date with Alex.
“I grow impatient. Make your choice. Me,” he paused. “Or them?” He raised his hands, indicating the men behind and at either side of him.
Her stomach did a somersault. “Y-you,” she managed hoarsely.
“Louder,” he demanded. “I can’t hear you.”
She jumped at the sharpness of his tone and responded instinctively, this time louder. “You.”
Drago seemed to consider her a moment, as if he questioned her commitment to her choice. Then he snapped his fingers. “Leave us,” he demanded.
Jolene stared at him, unable to take her eyes from his. Mesmerized. Terrified. Excited. The doors opened and shut. A shifting of metal told, once again, of locks being bolted into place. Complete, utter silence followed.
Then, and only then, did Drago move. A step. Another. He stopped in front of her. So close he could reach out and touch her. So close she could smell the spicy maleness of him. The same scent that had scorched her with arousal during their first meeting.
“It’s just you and me now,” he said, in a low, sensual voice that promised intimacy beyond the simple words he spoke.
He leaned forward, pressing his fists against the wall, a mere whisper between their bodies, his mouth lowering near her ear. The warmth of his breath caressed her skin, and goose bumps spread across her body, her nipples tightening. With every ounce of her being, she wanted to arch her back and press them against his chest. He whispered in her ear, so low she barely heard what he said. “We’re alone. Just us and a room of cameras.”
The implications of what he’d shared darted through her mind. People were watching them. Alex was watching. That Drago shared this information in a secretive way confused her. Was he trying to warn her or simply playing with her mind? She didn’t know. Nor did she have time to give it much thought.
He leaned back enough to fix her with a hot stare. Then, slowly, his gaze dropped to her breasts. For long moments he stared at her, making her skin tingle with the need for his touch. Finally, his eyes lifted. “You know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you?”
She swallowed. “Force me to have sex with you.”
“Force?” His sensual mouth hinted at a smile. “Am I forcing you, Jolene? Did you not agree to do what was necessary to find Carrie?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I agreed.” His eyes narrowed and she corrected herself. “Agree.”
Apparently satisfied, he said, “You want me.” He dipped his head and inhaled. “I can smell your arousal, Jolene.” His cheek pressed against hers. “You’ve wanted me since the moment you laid eyes on me.”
Which was true, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She didn’t want to feel this . . . need. The yearning. This heat he evoked. Not here. Not under these circumstances. Giving up her body and admitting her personal desires were different things.
“Believe what you want,” she managed in a shaky voice, challenging him on purpose and praying her strategy worked. He was pressing at her mind again, trying to reach inside. She shoved him out of her head and reached for more control, needing to be free of the chains. “Why tie me up? Because Alex willed it? Or because you don’t really believe I want you?”
“It is true this amuses Alex, but I didn’t argue his choice, for reasons of my own.” He leaned back and fixed her in another sizzling stare. “You do want me. You simply think it’s wrong, and unless I take away your excuses, you will never submit. And submission, Jolene, is the only way I can help you get what you want.” The words danced in the air with the distinction of truth, with underlying meaning.
One of his index fingers just barely brushed her nipple. Jolene sucked in a breath, as pleasure rocketed through her body and exploded between her thighs. She could feel the moisture there. The heat. The burning need.
“By the time I take off those cuffs,” Drago promised. “I’ll have slain your conscience for you. All that will
be left is pure lust.”
His voice was deep. Resonant. Compelling. It made her want to forget this place. The watchers. The world. To be lost in him. The thoughts scared her and she mentally shook herself. Had she been drugged? Or perhaps he really slipped past her mental barriers and she didn’t know it. What else explained how easily she turned from ice to fire with this man? But then, she’d felt the same back at his apartment, and she most certainly hadn’t been drugged there.
“Never,” she proclaimed, fighting with her mind if not her body. Giving in completely meant forgetting her reason for being here. What she did now with Drago wasn’t about her own lust and desire. It was about Carrie. She couldn’t forget Carrie.
As if proving his ability to devour her with lust, he tweaked her nipple. Jolene bit back a moan as he repeated the act. “Does it turn you on to know we have an audience? That Alex watches with lust in his eyes. And there are others. Men. Women.” He continued to tease her nipple. “They’re watching. Perhaps fucking as they watch. Some of them are thinking about what they will do to you if I let them have you.”
“No,” she whispered, but already his other hand went into play, delivering more erotic sensations. He tugged on both hardened peaks at once, and then rolled them between his fingertips. Despite her best efforts to bite it back, she moaned again. “Please.” The hoarse word was a plea.
“Please don’t stop?” He rolled her nipples and palmed her breasts. “Or please don’t let them have you?”
Her eyes went to his. “Just let me leave.”
“I can’t do that.” He leaned close, his mouth brushing hers. Against her lips, he murmured. He still held her breasts in his hands, possessiveness in the touch. “You know I can’t. Besides, you said you wanted to find Carrie.”
Accusation laced her voice. “You know where she is.” It wasn’t a question.
“Carrie, as you knew her, is no more. Now she is a part of this world. Now she helps others join this world.”