Is it wrong to love a vampire?

Chapter 41

Jet woke up on alert.

He studied his surroundings. A stone wall with a large wooden door in it, metal bindings gripping the door to its spot. Another wall with a large mirror running the length of it and one wall holding two faded tapestries of flora.

He counted three wooden chairs, sturdy and intricately carved, upholstered in a dirty green fleur-de-lis pattern.

He only remembered fragments of the fighting, he turned towards the mirror and caught a glance of his disheveled appearance. Dried blood where cuts used to be. He remembered the punches thrown at his head and his body filled with adrenaline, his muscles clenched. The binds on his wrists stretched but gave no way as he tried to break them. They looked like leather, same patchy state that leather gets with age and use, he noted.

They didn't feel like leather, something stronger. The more he struggled, the stronger they felt. They were matching his strength, Jet realised and stopped struggling in defeat. He studied the chair. Metal, plated to the floor with small gaps for the binds to come through. It seemed to have no weak point. Cold spots on his back made him aware of the holes at his back, he tried to feel the shapes, searching for clues.

The wooden door in front of him opened and Nick sauntered in, an excited smirk dancing on his face.

'I'm glad the sedatives haven't killed you, would have been a shame to shorten the limited life you have left..' Nick leaned against a table, a thin pinstriped blue suit looked like curtains and his blonde was hair swept back with thick gel.

'Why would that be?' Jet scoffed at him.

'You see this chair?' Nick ignored him and kicked the steel with his polished oxford shoes. 'It took 90 years to create, layers of metal welded, bolted and wired together. You have no chance of escape. Besides I've got the main prize.' Nick strutted across to the mirror.

Jet followed his movements carefully.

'Don't hurt her.' His voice dripped with ice.

Nick laughed. 'Why would I do that? She's not useful yet.'

'When would that be?' Jet rolled his eyes, burying his insistent paranoia.

'Two days.' Nick smirked. 'Then I get Alice, permanently.'

Jet's face fell. He had less time than he thought.

'Did you not think that I would figure it out. Nathanial may be old but I am far older and he can't match my intelligence.'

Jet leaned back in the chair, ready to rile Nick. 'Nah, see I reckon Nate's smarter. You ran like a little girl when Nate turned up at the beach. You had to kidnap George when her human friend was present. And still she ran away from you. I don't connect intelligence with any of that. Just a list of failed schemes. You're a bad villain.' Jet smirked.

Nick's face grew red, his anger rising before dissipating. 'You say failed schemes but really, who has the girl.'

'That's the thing. Why do you need George? You had a girl last century.'

'Unexpected circumstances arose.'

'You killed her in cold blood. Nasty.' Jet laughed. 'I'd hate the same thing to happen to the love of my life, so, why don't you just wait until next century.'

Nick's face brightened. 'Speaking of loves.' Nick pressed a button and the mirror changed to a window.

Georgia was curled on a purple bed. Her midnight hair strung tight down her back, her knees curled tight into a ball, her eyes starting at the stone without seeing it. He remembered seeing her in the same position at a party. He had noticed how happy she looked sitting beneath the stars. Her eyes were hollow now, she had fled far into her mind.