On the Prowl (Bad Things #2)(21)

“Sweet dreams, vamp,” Rayce said.

She turned and shuffled down the hallway. Her dreams were never sweet. They hadn’t been since she’d become a vampire. She only had nightmares. Visions of herself dying—getting shot as Julian stared down at her in horror. Visions of being trapped in a tiny cell. Hunger. Pain.

Death.

No, there would be no sweet dreams for her. There never were.

She stopped in front of the third door on the right. Rose opened the door and stepped inside. Not a room, but a suite. One with heavy, cherry wood furniture. Dark, thick curtains hung over the windows. A massive, four-poster bed had been positioned right in the middle of the suite—

A bed that had claw marks on its wooden posts. Eyes widening, she rushed toward the bed. Her hand lifted and she traced the marks, just as she’d traced the ones on the door frame before.

Julian’s claw marks.

Julian’s room.

She turned around.

Rayce stood in the doorway. She hadn’t heard him follow her. Shifters can move way too quietly. He was staring at her, a slightly apologetic look on his face. “Yeah, sorry about this…but I am going to lock you in for the night.”

“What?”

“And the room has been—well, let’s just say it’s been enhanced so that paranormals can’t get out. I mean, when Julian has his bad nights, we can’t have him busting loose. So vamp strength won’t help you. Julian wanted you safe for the night and that means we can’t risk you running around where the wild things are. So just shower, change into one of his shirts, and have those sweet—”

“I don’t have sweet dreams!” She ran for him.

He jerked the door shut before she could grab him. Rose heard the faint click of a lock sliding into place. She tried wrenching the door open. She tried slamming her body into the wood. Vamp strength. Vamp. Strength!

But nothing happened. Because the tricky jerk was right…there was some kind of enhancement in place. Still, she didn’t give up.

She screamed and pounded against the door.

She couldn’t be trapped. Not again.

She couldn’t be prisoner.

Not again.

***

The pretty vampiress slammed into the door once more. Rayce winced when he felt the vibrations of the wood. “Uh, Rose? If you hurt yourself, Julian is only going to be pissed at me.”

Her answer was another slam against the door.

“It’s just for tonight.” Maybe. He could lie easily. “I know you don’t like being prisoner, okay? I heard what the ONS did to you—”

“Let me out!” Her shriek easily carried through the wood.

“But we’re not ONS. We’re not—” He actually had to catch himself there. He’d almost said We’re not the bad guys. That would have been total bullshit. “We’re not the ones trying to hurt you now.” There. Much better. “I’m walking away, all right?” Rayce took a step back. “I’d suggest that you go to sleep and have—”

”Screw your sweet dreams!”

His lips twitched. He could really like that vamp. No wonder Julian was obsessed.

Whistling, he turned on his heel and headed down the hallway. He’d check on the human visitor and then maybe…maybe he’d go for a run, too. His wolf had been dying for a night out.





Chapter Six


Julian came back to the house just before dawn. Streaks of light were starting to edge over the water as the sun rose. He’d grabbed a pair of sweats from one of the cabins nestled on the island. There were plenty of places like that set up—safe spots for shifters so that they could dress after a transformation.

He paced down the hallway and stopped before his room. Rose was in there. He could smell her. He could—

The key was still in the lock.

Fucking hell.

Rayce had locked her inside. He’d never told the wolf to do that! He’d just said to keep her safe! Fuck, f*ck, f*ck! Julian yanked at the key and shoved open the door. He bounded inside.

Rose was in the bed. She wore his shirt, a big, black t-shirt that seemed to swallow her. She was turned on her side and he could see the tear tracks on her face.

Rose didn’t like to be locked up.

I am going to kill Rayce. He whirled, ready to rip the wolf apart.

“Don’t lock me in again.” Her voice. Soft, husky, and coated with pain.

His shoulders stiffened. “I won’t, love. I swear it.” He was just going to beat the ever loving hell out of a certain mangy werewolf.

He heard the rustle of the bed covers behind him and then the faint pad of her feet on the hardwood floor. Julian forced his hands to unclench as he turned toward her. “I’m sorry.” The words came out stilted and felt awkward on his tongue. He didn’t usually apologize to anyone or for anything, but this was different. This was Rose.

His hand lifted and he wiped away a tear that lingered on her cheek. Her lips parted. Her eyes seemed to go even greener.

“I never meant for you to be locked up.” Protection was one thing. Trapping her was another.

“So I’m not your prisoner?”

“No, hell, no.” He should stop touching her. He wasn’t. He was caressing her cheek. Her skin was like silk. “I brought you here so you could be safe. Not so some dumbass wolf could torture you. You’ve been hurt e-f*cking-nough. It needs to stop. It has to stop.” If he had his way, she’d never know a moment of pain again. His hand slid down her neck. A soft, tender neck. “I’ll stop it.”