A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(31)

Francesca kicked her horse, easing forward, drawing up again a few yards to Quinn's side. The vamp's victim remained tight in her arms, still alive, though lethargic. "She's not for sale, my Italian prince. She takes the lash perfectly. I wish to see what else she can endure."

Wingtip released a trembling moan, and Quinn nearly did the same. Arturo's words, that Francesca went through a slave every couple of days, suddenly made a horrible sense. The vampire tortured her slaves to death. And at the moment, Quinn was one of those slaves.

Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, Francesca straightened in her saddle, allowing her food source to do the same. When she lifted her victim's hand, Quinn thought she intended to hand the slave back to her guard. Instead, she took one finger and snapped it like a twig.

The poor woman screamed. Francesca closed her eyes as if experiencing soft rapture.

Quinn thought she was going to be sick.

Make a scene, Arturo spoke in her head. A cowardly, noisy one. He gripped her jaw and said out loud, "I want this one, Franny. She may have taken the lash, but she trembles beneath my hand, her terror thick and lush." He stared at her. "What do you say, beauty? Do you want to come home with me? Do you want to scream for me?" Do it.

"No!" A decent yell, but hardly a cowardly, noisy scene. She'd never been a screamer. "No, please!" He gripped her shoulder where the lash had cut her. The bolt of pain was exactly what she needed. She released the scream that was bottled up inside her, released the tears she'd been fighting. "No! Let me go. Let me go!" She threw a punch at Arturo's middle, which he easily blocked, then another, fighting, kicking, screaming with the pain that ripped up and down her back with every movement, making as much noise as she could.

"Enough!" the woman cried, but Quinn continued. If the female vamp hated screamers, Quinn was going to scream.

"Double the price I paid for her, Arturo. One thousand."

Quinn gasped.

Keep it up, the voice warned. "Six hundred."

Quinn wailed, starting to get into it now. "No, no! Don't hurt me!"

"Eight hundred, and she's yours, my prince."

"Seven-fifty."

"Done. Manchester, free the slut. Get her out of here, Arturo."

Moments later, she was free, Arturo's long fingers curling coolly around her upper arm. But she knew better than to stop too soon. The female would know she'd been faking. Struggling in her vampire's grasp, Quinn continued to scream, kicking him in the shin. A bit of retribution for his scaring her half to death the first time he'd found her.

As he steered her toward the waiting Jeep, Quinn glanced back at the other slaves, sick with the knowledge they'd likely all be dead before another week passed, dying horrible, painful deaths.

Arturo opened the passenger door of his Jeep and shoved her in, his hand flat on her torn back. The pain tore a scream from her lungs, and she gave in to it, cutting the night with her misery, reveling in the knowledge that Francesca was probably covering her ears. Take that, you bitch.

Arturo closed her door, and she grabbed for the roll bar with one hand and the top of the windshield with the other, desperate to keep her bleeding back from banging against the seat as he flew over the pitted road. This ride was going to hurt.

On a roll now, she continued to wail as Arturo climbed into the driver's side, started the vehicle, and took off. The ride was every bit as bad as she'd feared it would be. As hard as she tried to keep her back off the seat, she kept slamming into it with excruciating regularity. Sweat rolled down her temples, unwanted tears down her cheeks as she clenched her teeth against the need to cry out, tired of hearing her own screams and pretty sure they were far enough away now that she didn't have to keep up the pretense. The nausea rose, slow and steadily, until she had no choice but to say something.

"I'm going to be sick." The words were little more than a gasp, but the vampire heard. The car came to a slamming halt, and, for an instant, she thought she was about to fly through the windshield, but his arm braced her before she ever saw him move. Who needed a seat belt when you had a vampire?

She fumbled for the door, but he was already there, opening it, lifting her out, keeping her from stumbling forward as she fell to her knees and retched in the dirt. For long, trembling moments, she stayed there, drenched in sweat, feeling like the world's biggest wuss. Yes, her back was a bloody mess, but this was nothing compared to the pain the others would endure . . . were already beginning to suffer. Her stomach didn't seem to care.

When she was fairly certain she wasn't going to heave again, she looked up to find Arturo standing a few yards in front of her, watching her with cool eyes, the charmer once more gone as if he'd never been.

"You did well," he murmured. "My ears are going to be ringing for hours."

"Thank you for rescuing me. Did you? Rescue me? Or am I going to suffer at your hands, too?"

"Have you suffered at my hands, cara?"

"No. But I escaped you. I hit Ernesta." She cringed. "Please tell me I didn't kill her."

His mouth pulled up on one side, but that tiny bit of a smile rose nowhere near his eyes. "You didn't kill her though you gave her a hell of a headache."

Her breath trembled out with relief, and she realized how much that had been weighing on her. "Good. I didn't mean to hurt her. I only meant to get away." She pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the pain that lanced her back with every move.