Chapter 5: Thane

Even before I open my eyes, something feels different - about me and the space I find myself in – for various reasons.

I’m lying on a couch, something I never do. That’s what my custom-made Alaskan King bed with its black silk sheets is made for.

There is an intoxicating smell permeating the air. And not the unique scent of blood, which I can detect a mile away. It calls to me, simultaneously calming my soul (if I had one) and setting fire to my nervous system.

Opening my eyes, I stare at a ceiling distinctly different from my penthouse apartment's. This one has brown watermarks in several places and a few cracks in the corner. Goddess, I hope the roof doesn’t collapse on me.

I’m shirtless, and my lower half is covered with a gray throw blanket. When I pull it closer to my nose, that heavenly scent gets more intense, and I instinctively inhale a deep lungful of it.

Turning my head to the left, more of the room becomes clearer. I’m in a small living room with sparse furnishings. In the corner is a bay window with a built-in padded bench seat underneath. It’s covered in more throw pillows than should legally be allowed.

My eyes fall on the sleeping woman in the recliner across from me. She’s lightly snoring, and some drool is dripping from the corner of her open mouth. I can’t decide if it’s adorable or deplorable. What the hell? Since when is anything adorable to me?

In her lap lies an open book, but I can’t make out the title from this angle. Hopefully, it’s educational, like an autobiography by one of this country’s great minds. To my right behind her is a colossal bookcase stuffed with books that have been read numerous times if the cracked spines are any indication.

Slipping my legs to the floor, I sit upright and peruse the rest of the room. The hallway is presumably through the doorway off to my right, with the bottom of a staircase visible. A small kitchen can be spotted through the archway that’s to my left behind me. A decent-sized TV is mounted to the wall to my left, next to the bay window.

The sleeping beauty is dressed in red-colored flannel pajamas that hug her thick, luscious curves. The top button of her shirt has popped out of its hole, and her deep cleavage is begging for my attention. What I wouldn’t give to slip the next button free – they would be completely bare to me then. Stop, you caveman.

Looking down, I spot a waterproof bandage on the left side of my abdomen, and last night’s events come rushing back like a torrential flood.

I remember dinner at the restaurant with some of my top researchers. I had given my driver the night off because it was his anniversary, and I planned to order an Uber when the evening was over. So, when we stepped out of the restaurant, I bid the others farewell and opened the rideshare app on my phone. But a sudden movement caught my eye, and my attention snapped in that direction.

My enhanced eyesight allowed me to spot the distinct luminescent-red bat tattoo behind the person’s ear. So fucking cliché.

Without hesitation, I started following the darkly dressed man. But keeping up proved difficult because I couldn’t use my ability to move extremely fast in streets congested with mortals.

It didn’t make sense for one of Andras’ men to be skulking around in this part of the city. But I was intent on catching him, throttling the answer from him, and then disposing of his sorry ass.

I followed him for several blocks, slipping from shadow to shadow. I couldn’t believe my luck when he eventually sneaked into a dark alleyway, ultimately sealing his fate because I would not be letting him out of there alive.

Stalking down the narrow space, my eyes ping-ponged to every available nook and cranny in search of Andras’ minion. About halfway down, a black cat jumped down from a dumpster, causing a big enough distraction to enable my prey to launch himself from the fire escape above, landing gracefully on his feet and cutting off the exit to the street.

Before I could utter a single word, he stepped into me and plunged a dagger into my side while whispering in my ear, “Andras sends his regards.”

Usually, my fangs would be ripping his throat out before he could finish his sentence. But my body, for some inexplicable reason, refused to do what my brain demanded of it. A coldness was seeping through my body, originating from where the knife was still embedded, effectively paralyzing me. Not even my voice wanted to fall from my throat.

When the man stepped back, pulling the dagger out as he went, the distinct sweet smell hanging in the air was my first clue, and the remnants of a black liquid on the blade were my second. The motherfucker had poisoned me with nightshade.

In normal circumstances, nightshade poison is lethal to a vampire. But in my case, because I’m a Vampire King, it only paralyzed me and slowed down my healing abilities. So, I could not fight back or kill him on the spot, even if I tried.

He disappeared into the night with a victorious smile while I slid down the grimy wall, losing control of my body with every second. In the back of my mind, I was hoping that no other hoodlum came upon me because they would have been able to end my life without much effort.

And that’s what pissed me off the most—not being able to defend myself. Reduced to die by a simpleton’s hands and not in the throes of a glorious battle like the history books prophesized.

Eventually, my body gave up trying to stay lucid and awake, the pain and numbness becoming too much for my weary body to heal itself, causing me to pass out.

The mortal woman must have stumbled upon me and decided to rescue me.

Peeling the bandage partially from my skin, I notice the wound has completely healed with only a faint white scar as proof that mere hours ago, there was a gaping wound.

I find this odd because I’ve previously been poisoned with nightshade, and it takes at least 24 hours to leave my system and then another few hours for my wounds to heal. Did this woman have an antidote on hand, somehow?

Before I can contemplate all the various scenarios and reasons for my speedy recovery, my host begins to stir. I immediately cross my arms over my chest, put my scowling mask on, and wait for her to wake up and start asking me for money because she saved my life.

Because that’s what I’ve come to expect from humankind. No good deed is just done because the person has decency and kindness in them. No. With every act, they expect payment or a favor in return.

When her head lifts and her jade eyes lock onto mine, only one word resonates through every fiber of my being.

Mine!