H Is For Human (Garlic Is For Vampires, Book 3)

Chapter 18: Phantom from the Blood Opera

Dylan's fangs left my throat and he tossed me onto the couch in his room, where I collapsed and forced my eyes shut to catch my breath. There were black borders covering every inch of any window, and only one door which was framed by my fingernail markings after several attempts to escape. I couldn't move my right leg, which seemed to have become numb from the amount of blood I lost being here.

I couldn't tell how long Dylan had kept me as his prisoner now.

It was the better thing to do to resist him. To insure the safety of my friends, and also our deaths. It would be no surprise when he resurfaced after using me, stronger then ever because of me. I was the one to blame. I didn't feel ashamed if it meant giving Brendon his life back.

I only knew he was healing when Dylan showed me videos taken by one of his followers. They were watching the apartment, and I once saw Brendon walking normally, if not still a bit sluggish. I had noted his growing beard, and Matt's haunted eyes as he tried getting into contact with people who knew where I was. He had still been dressed in the clothes I last saw him when I ran out of the apartment. It made me wonder how long I had been gone now.

Time didn't matter in this place. Survival did. Dylan sat on his bed, kissing a girl whose eyes were covered by a blindfold. Every now and then she would be brought into the room, mostly to satisfy the needs that he wouldn't use me for. I was lucky, actually. He left her more bruises compared to me. That didn't make our situation any easier though. I was just food, but fully aware of the situation. At this point, she was a vegetable.

Dylan pulled back from her and stood up from the bed, walking over to me. I tried to move further away but he caught me and ripped off the remainder of my blouse. His shirt was off and my blood was smeared over his skin, certainly over his mouth. He stroked my face and wrapped his arm around my waist.

"How long has it been since we were together, Bree? Long enough to make you quiver at my touch." He brushed his hand over the back of my thigh. The thing was, he didn't need to bind my wrists. He had already done that by biting them to weaken my hold on anything. I could barely resist at this point.

"Long enough to hate you," I said, but flinched when he suddenly raised his hand to stroke my face.

"Don't be like that. We've been together for a while now. You should love me by now." He covered my mouth with his, closing them halfway to still look at me with my eyes wide open. "I love you."

I refused to part my lips, but he was persistent to hold his head against mine until I yielded and he bit me on the bottom lip. I winced when I felt his fangs tug on my skin, and he released my bottom lip. I looked at him with it dripping blood. He wiped it off with his thumb and licked it. He purred like a cat and I watched his eyelids dilate. Wouldn't it be strange to say I sympathized for a vampire like Dylan? In ways he was a victim too, as he had a serious addiction to blood and I made him cave into it by giving him mine. I hated it, but I was responsible for Dylan too.

He pulled me into his arms again and began to nibble at the space between my shoulder and the side of my neck. I felt him trace his tongue over the place he wanted before biting me. My breath hitched and it was almost impossible to run now. My body became so paralyzed by pain all limbs went numb. I groaned as he fed and tore into my flesh, showing no mercy for all I had done to him.

Instead of admitting to him, I gathered my waning strength to head butt him, to knock me out, not him. I saved myself from the remainder of the time because when I woke up, he was fully dressed again. His plaything snoozed in their bed, naked under the covers. He looked down at me with his arms crossed. Then he tsked in disapproval.

"It's one thing to hurt me, and then another to hurt yourself," he said with a hint of humor to his voice. "You're such a sweet thing, why'd you do it?"

"People do get tired of you, whether you believe it or not," I replied. "I'm no exception."

He lied down beside me and turned his head to face me. "Believe me, Bree, you won't be an exception." He wrapped his hand around my wrist and began to squeeze. I tried to keep breathing, but I felt his fingers connect around the back of my neck. I sputtered for breath but to no avail. My weak hands touched him, but then my vision danced. That was all I got to do.

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I woke up again with the lights dim in the room, but this time I was on the bed and Dylan laid beside me, naked. I looked down at myself. I was still wearing my underwear, but my bra was gone and there were bruising bite marks on my breasts. He had bitten me on my ribs, and blood stained the sheets. I looked further down and noticed the fresh bite marks on the inside of my thighs. There were bite marks on my ankles.

I felt significantly weaker, my chances of escape lesser then before. Dylan stirred beside me and we made eye contact. He purred and moved closer to me, rubbing his face into my neck.

"I've thought about making love to you," he admitted, and I tried to keep my body from becoming tense. Then he wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my breasts, making me cringe inside.

"Then I thought, no. We've passed more boundaries than lovemaking ever could. We're a unique pair."

At least that saved me from something.

"If you want to believe that," I said. "Then by all means, please do."

"You don't?" He kissed my jaw.

I glared at him and he began to laugh before rolling his body weight onto me. We looked into each other's eyes and he seemed to study my face sincerely. He placed a hand on my side and brought his mouth down to my neck, and then chin. Then he bit my cheek and it stung like cold water.

I groaned when he applied pressure to my bite marks. He moaned and hummed in his throat as he bit into older wounds, intensifying their pain. I gasped and my breath hitched, my body writhing underneath his. I wanted this all to end now.

Then Dylan suddenly became violent and tore into my throat, making me scream bloody murder. He growled and slapped me across the face but I was spitting in his and yelling that he get off of me. He snarled and I watched his face morph into something more monstrous before he bit into my throat again.

Blood pooled underneath me, staining the bed sheets. The bed shook as I fought against him and he panted against my skin. His grip on my body tightened, growing tighter and tighter until finally, he released me and rose to his knees, mouth and chest dripping with blood. He breathed in hard before spreading his arms like they were wings. Now he seemed bigger, stronger. Powerful.