She needed Hadrian and his abilities.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her mouth dry. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“All is forgiven.” Hadrian’s footsteps moved in a slow arc around the foot of the bed. “Your reluctant apology speaks to an eagerness to have your blindness lifted.”
Mary bowed her head. “Yes.”
“Perhaps you’re looking forward to doing some more traveling?”
“Traveling?” Tilda questioned. “I don’t understand.”
Mary reached toward her mother and placed a hand on her arm, but continued to address Hadrian. “Yes. The places you showed me in the dream were beautiful.”
“They were, indeed.” The vampire’s voice was growing sharper. “However, when I said you’d like to do some traveling with your new, working pair of eyes, I meant you’d like to travel away from here and back to your lover. That is your intention, no?”
There was no sense in denying it. She could only sit there shivering, no longer certain if it was from fear or the unbearable cold.
“I promise you, Hadrian, my daughter will make good on her word.”
“Oh? And what weight does your promise carry with me, Tilda? A mother who would sacrifice her daughter to an unscrupulous fucker like me?”
Tilda sputtered. “I’ve been nothing but forthright—”
“I think I’ve heard enough,” Hadrian sighed, sounding bored, but his pronouncement was followed by the unmistakable sound of a body running into a wall. Hard. And her mother’s grunt of pain was further proof.
“What are you doing?” Mary cried, starting to come off the bed.
An unmovable force pinned her down.
Not Hadrian’s hands or body, but the power surely came from him.
“Please don’t hurt my mother,” Mary gasped.
“You’ll soon learn, my dear, that I do whatever I want.” Tilda’s body slammed against the wall again and Mary started to cry. “You’ll be given your sight back, Mary, but if you leave this manor, it will be gone again. You can only see as long as you’re in my keeping. Not the tradeoff you were expecting? Well, more’s the pity. You were warned about me, I’m sure.” A hand wrapped tightly around Mary’s neck, making her jolt, but she couldn’t lift her hands to remove the choking grip. They were pinned to the bed.
Cool metal brushed against her face, the lack of oxygen traveling to her brain posing a delay in her realizing what it was.
A necklace?
No, heavier. Like an amulet.
It vibrated like an intense force, inviting her to reach out and read the signature. Giving her no choice. She’d never used her gift on an inanimate object before, but she could sense the life within and it pulled her close, engaged her mind without a formal order. And when she encountered the sheer strength of the malevolence within the amulet, it took all of her willpower not to gasp. Such power locked inside something so small.
“I will have my alliance,” Hadrian hissed, distracting her. “The vampire throne will no longer be filled by someone who denies the true nature, the true power, of what we are. Someone who tiptoes around humans, instead of conquering them. Rising up and claiming this earth as superior beings. I will be leading our kind to their glory. And I won’t be made to appear weak by having my bride running off to the opposition,” Hadrian seethed, close enough to her face that his words pelted her upper lip. “I’ll only remind you one last time, if you attempt a foolish return to your lover, I’ll present him to you in pieces.”
Tears coursed down her cheeks, her will crumbling bit by bit. She was no match for this…this entity. He had centuries of experience and more power than she could even fathom.
They’d been naïve and desperate to throw their lot in with Hadrian.
They might be valuable to him and his ambitions, but he wasn’t above bending them to his will whenever he could. Forcefully. This was not a man who tempered himself.
Not for anyone. And they’d underestimated his evil.
Hadrian finally let go of her throat and she sucked down lungfuls of oxygen, immediately calling out for her mother who, terrifyingly, did not answer. A gust of wind blew Mary’s hair back—signaling Hadrian’s departure?—and she heard the door creak.
“Lovely speaking to you, my bride.” He knocked on the doorframe. “Oh, one last thing. Your mother mentioned to me that the vampire who left you at my gates had a beating heart. Are you his mate, perchance?”
Afraid to speak, not even sure she could with the burning in her throat, Mary could only sit stock still, trembling violently.
“If his heart was beating, he must have drunk your blood. How very noble of him to give you up and sign his own death certificate.”
Mary mentally replayed that statement five times, each rendition faster than the last, until her head sounded like a carnival funhouse. “What…what do you mean?” she croaked.
A long pause ensued, followed by an earsplitting laugh from Hadrian. “Did you not know? Once a vampire drinks from his mate, he can consume her blood alone. Or he will die. Slowly and painfully.” His journey continued into the hallway. “Enjoy your stay.”