Claiming the Vampire Slayer

Chapter Seven: Deadly Decisions

As I lunge, stake aimed for his heart, I feel something wrong.

My arm feels heavy. Confusion clouds my thoughts as the stake inches closer to him too slowly, too sluggishly.

Marcellus's eyes lock onto mine with an unsettling calmness. His lips curl into a mocking smile that sends a shiver down my spine.

He knew. He fucking knew I had the stake and would try this. This was a trap, a setup to test me, and I fucking fell for it.

Rookie, I chide myself. Never make the strike unless you're sure, like Mother told me in training.

My fingers tense around the wooden weapon. I try one last time to drive the stake home, into his dark heart by pushing forward.

No movement.

Panic surges through me as my body continues to betray me. The stake is still in my hand, but I can't make it reach its target. It's as if an invisible force has wrapped itself around my limbs, rendering them immobile.

My mind races to understand, to comprehend why my own body is no longer under my command.

"Damn it," I growl through gritted teeth, frustrated.

Marcellus's mocking smile only widens, pissing me off with its mixture of amusement and superiority.

"Victoria," he purrs, his voice dripping with controlled humor, "did you really think it would be that easy?"

I kinda did, but there's no need for him to know that. "Fuck you, you scheming asshole."

My heart hammers against my ribs, the sensation of being trapped in my own skin maddening. Anger surges within me alongside the desperation to break free.

I push against the invisible restraints, trying to force my limbs to respond.

"Let me go!" I scream into the night. "Stop controlling me!"

He crosses his arms, regarding me casually. "I'm not controlling you. You can move whenever you want to."

I push forward, trying to drive in the stake, but I don't budge. "Take this spell off me!"

He takes a step closer, closer to the stake, and I strain to move it. His fingers graze my cheek tenderly as he moves closer still, the stake pressing into his chest by his own movement.

We're cheek-to-cheek. I inhale his masculine scent with each breath I take.

He nips my earlobe, and I feel a tightening in my belly.

My body's betrayal shames me. I try to fight it, but pulling my head away unknowingly bares my neck, which he nips.

"I think I like having you this way, Victoria," he whispers into my ear.

That deep, low voice threatens to weaken my knees. I bite my tongue to prevent myself from moaning.

"Completely at my mercy," he then adds.

Cold creeps up my body. I stiffen, my body going completely rigid.

At his mercy? Is that what gets him off? Taking advantage and subduing his victims?

He pulls back, sensing my change in mood. After taking a look at the cold radiating from my eyes, he steps back further.

"Coming to the wrong conclusion again?" He taps my forehead. "What's going on in that mind of yours? Should I take a peek?"

"Don't you fucking mess around in my head," I warn him lethally.

"A scion cannot kill its sire," he states, ignoring my threat. "You're bound by blood to me in ways you don't yet understand. But you will. Whether it is through pleasure or pain is up to you."