After Hours (VAMPIRES PART 1)

Chapter 14

LISA

When I wake, it's like being pulled from the depths of hell. Sleep was a void of nothing. And when I peel my eyes open, it's with a sharp intake of breath and the cold shiver of goosebumps crawling over my entire body.

I leap off the bed I was lying on. My heart drumming in my ears. Blood throbbing so loud I can't hear or see or think about anything else. A pounding headache claws at the inside of my mind like someone battered me in my dreams. I grip my temples and buckle, trying to remember if I got in a fight or was attacked by vampires.

No.

Worse.

This is withdrawal. That little cunt dealer did me over and Roseanne fucking Park saved him. Not something I'm going to let go easily. I stand up and glance down at my body.

"What the fuck?" I hiss. I'm in my underwear. And... and... What the actual fuck. I slip my hand in my underwear. I'm soaked? I pull my hand out and slide it over my painfully hard nipples.

Why am I so... so aroused?

I must have been dosed in my sleep. It's the only solution because the shivering sweats are gone and even the headache I woke with is receding. I feel far more myself. And whenever I've dosed, I've been unbearably horny for hours after. Half the time I end up busting my vibrator batteries or draining bottles of lube trying to get rid of what I can only describe as blue balls, only that sounds like the patriarchy. So blue ovaries? Blue pussy? Gross. How about a painful lady boner.

That will do.

There's a rustling outside the door. Shit. I glance around fast, hunter instincts kicking in.

Assess. Find the exits. Estimate the number of enemies.

Where the ever-loving fuck am I?

I'm in some kind of posh bedroom. I look over my shoulder, I was in a four-poster bed. I spot my blades on the bedside table. I lunge for them, grabbing one in each hand. But where are my clothes and who the hell took them?

And more disconcerting, why do I feel like I've been here before? This room... it's... familiar. It can't be though because I legitimately have no fucking clue where I am.

Dark maroon curtains drape and fall over the windows, their plush velvet looks soft enough to roll in. I consider hacking them down to cover myself up when footsteps alert me to an intruder.

I spring into action, my body moving for me, thank you muscle memory. My skin is unprotected, though, and I don't know where my leathers are or my armour. So I'll have to go on the offensive. Attack first, ask questions later.

The haze of a memory attempts to slither back into my consciousness. That fucking dealer.

I think Roseanne and I were talking. And then everything went fuzzy. She probably compelled me, the fucking filthy vampire. I bet that's why I can't remember anything. She must have kidnapped me. I inhale, take a deep breath and confirm that the air stinks of iron-rich perfume.

Blood.

Shit. My head still isn't clear, my body riddled with the aftereffects of withdrawal. But I draw the best conclusions I can with the information I've got.

Roseanne fucking Park kidnapped me, and for what? Stored me in a private room just to drain me later so I can't compete against her in her mother's trials? Well fuck that.

I leap across the room and press my back to the wall beside the door, my blade raised to strike.

Attack first.