Bound to the Vampire Chapter 4

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CHAPTER 4

Garrick

In the fifty years Garrick had been to the auction house, he had never seen a vampire lose it so completely.

But his captain’s loss of control surpassed every other known instance of frenzied bidding he’d ever seen.

First time trading always derailed even the most controlled of their kind. There was something about the frenzy of bidding. It triggered the predatory instinct to capture prey. And with a fresh innocent on the block with their heart racing, the bloodlust took control. The vampire became in service to the will of the bloodlust instead of their own.

Served him right.

For all their talk, Elderian vampires were just like every other. Elderians hated the blood trade. A fact, he must have heard a hundred times since their journey to the human realm began. Asher complained constantly about the trade being beneath him.

Yet Garrick had never heard a single complaint from any Elderian as to where their blood came from when his kingdom delivered their provisions. Blood was blood when you were thirsty. And as evident by his long-time friend, every vampire was driven by the same call for blood regardless of their politics.

Asher had even denied his offer to soften the blow by ensuring he would have the touch of a soft woman on top of him while he made his first bid. One who would let him sink his fangs into her neck and drink right from the source if he needed to. But the warrior refused, citing his immutable control.

Cha! He was strong, but no vampire was immune to the call.

Garrick took a long sip of wine and held back a snicker. His eyes lingered on the girl his captain had spent their entire purse acquiring.

“Well, that was… interesting.”

The figure beside him didn’t move. He glanced over to make sure Asher hadn’t dropped dead of guilt, and coughed a laugh in his hand.

Was he pouting?

Asher’s oversized frame was stuffed inside of a tiny leather chair. His fangs scraped his bottom lip and his fists balled tight underneath his chin as he stared blankly through the mirror glass and out onto the platform with a forlorn look.

Yes, Asher was really pouting. Garrick’s smirk grew. He should take pity on him, but there was no fun in that. After days of being berated by his oldest friend, there was only one viable option for payback—never let him live it down.

Cha! This is going to be fun.

“You could look less uncomfortable.” Garrick tried his hardest to stifle a laugh when Asher could barely shift in his seat to turn to him.

“Don’t,” Asher growled.

He raised an amused brow. “For all the control…”

“I said, don’t.” Asher’s jaw flexed. The corner of his lip raised into a snarl.

“What is done, is done.” He shrugged, keeping his tone taunting as he placed the glass down on the table between their matching leather chairs. “Realize we have to inform the king we spent twenty thousand gold chelets on one purchase.”

Asher grumbled, “A warrior is not a trader.”

At least in that, they could agree. The adjustment took time to get used to. He’d been at it for at least five years before he found his stride. Asher never really stood a chance.

“This is your first time. All traders derail the first time.”

When a vicious snarl ripped from Asher’s throat, Garrick softened. Yes, it was an awful thing to trade life, but Asher knew that when they were assigned this mission, they were to procure more blood for their King’s blood harem. The High King only drank from the source. Did he think that just because he’d come from a kingdom that didn’t have blood slaves, their purchase would be for something else?

“I need to leave.” Asher stood abruptly.

“Sure, you have spent all of our coin anyway. There’s no reason to stay any longer.”

“Could you not?” Asher sounded past the extent of his patience.

“What? The King will go easy on you. Secretly, I think he likes when we make extravagant purchases on his behalf. It shows the depths of his coffers. Besides, he treats the expensive ones better than the others. You’ve done the girl a service, really.”

“That is enough, legion.” Asher’s tone became no-nonsense, no longer that of his childhood best friend but that of his superior. The authority rippled through to his bones.

Garrick barely kept a straight face. “Yes, Captain.”

“Must you always mock me?”

“We’ve been friends for the last seventy years. It’ll take me a bit to get used to your new rank over me.”

“Let’s go,” Asher muttered and headed into the hall.

The auction house was built in a ring around the trading stage. They walked the circle past many of the doors where the other traders relaxed. From the sound of it, they were having a better time than him right now.

Even though he counted Asher among his closest friends, the warrior was not one to party with. He was too rigid with the rules. He’d much rather spend his time defying the pleasures of the alter-realm instead of enjoying them. Something Garrick needed to separate himself from immediately.

“These stairs will get us to the trading post faster,” he said when Asher had gone too far toward the elevators.

“Right.” Asher nodded and followed his lead.

Garrick pushed through the doors and down a long flight of stairs to the warehouse. The auctioneer didn’t care much for anyone to roam anywhere except the approved halls meant for the guests. But he’d spent enough over the years to tamper the changelings’ ire.

They walked through the walkways between large stacked shipping crates. It was always quiet in the warehouse, so when something rattled, it caught his attention. It sounded like someone was pushing against a chained fence. Or a cage.

Ignore it. Never snoop around in another man’s closet. His senses were already hiked at the scent of shifter. Faint, but concentrated. Like wet rags that had been in stagnant water too long.

More rattling. Then, a scream.

He glanced over his shoulder toward the sound. Near the open bay in the back, the silhouettes of several figures were crouched under a light. Ah, they were playing Bones. A smile coaxed the corner of his lips. He’d love to play a hand or two.

He looked at Asher.

“Captain, if we are done.” His gaze lingered on the game.

Asher paused. “We must pay first.”

“It doesn’t take two to pay. The Weighers will count the gold.”

Asher stared at the side of his face, then toward the game. His lips pursed into a disapproving, flat line, but he gave his consent. “Where do I pay?”

He pointed him to the small office in the back where a tall woman with hair the color of fire looked to be filing her nails. He knew better. She was sharpening her claws. The trading business was unforgiving and he’d seen her use them a time or two when someone became too handsy with their unpaid merchandise.

“We meet at the sleeping house.”

“The hotel?”

“Whatever it is called,” Asher ground out.

Cha! He needed to give it a rest. So what, he made a purchase. If he didn’t want any part of it, he shouldn’t have become a warrior. They were following the King’s command. Their own opinions didn’t matter.

If he wasn’t going to let up on his crankiness, Garrick would need more than a game of bones to deal with it. Perhaps, tonight he’d find himself a soft woman who’d let him drink from her. In fact, after a round or two of Bones, he’d do exactly that. He turned to Asher.

“Don’t wait up for me.”

“Garrick, try not to get yourself into trouble.” Asher’s tone was still hard, but the concern was there.

“What fun is it being in the alter-realm if I didn’t?”

“I am serious,” he grumbled. “I will have you cited, friend or not.”

Cha! He didn’t know fun. But what his captain didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, so he offered him the traditional vampire salute. “As you’ve commanded.”

Asher returned it, cuffing his right fist over his left hand at his chest and giving him a slight bow. They parted ways and Garrick followed the sound of the metal rattling to the back of the warehouse. He could hear the men shouting as one gained favor over the others. When he approached, the game came to an abrupt halt.

The men were on their feet and in a loose formation before he could get into their sightlines. With their bodies slightly hunched, there was no mistaking they were ready to pounce like large mountain cats after their prey.

At least they were wise enough to perceive him as a threat, although a fight was the furthest thing from his mind. He held up a hand to stay their suspicion. “I have not played a good game of Bones in many years.”

The tallest of them spoke first. “Who says we have an opening?”

The corners of Garrick’s mouth turned up as he surveyed the man with lightly tanned skin and short black hair that matched his own. Then his gaze flickered to the rest of them. Not as tall, but definitely part of the same gene pool. And shifters. He memorized their faces.

“I have deep pockets and an inclination for lightening them.”

That got the shifter’s attention. The taller one looked around the formation. The team of them seemed to come to a consensus he couldn’t hear.

“Fine. Minimum bid is a thousand dollars.”

He did the math. Two hundred chelets. That was pretty steep for a game of Bones. This must have been a test to see how deep his pockets went.

Not very far, but he had enough to be able to swindle them out of what they had laying on the concrete floor behind them.

“Fine.” He pulled a thick gold coin from his pocket and tossed it at the tallest one who caught it with one hand. “This should cover it.”

The shifter nodded his assent with a greedy grin and motioned him over. Once he drew nearer to the circle, his senses woke. A deep perfume unlike any other made the vampire inside of him frazzle.

He was no stranger to human blood. But this was something else entirely. Deeper, earthier somehow, with a touch of floral sweetness that he could revel in as he devoured it.

His fangs dropped and he now understood the reason for the rattling he’d been hearing. They had someone locked in a cage beside him. Someone who smelled too delicious not to sink his fangs into.

Don’t look. He’d learned the driving force behind his control was his ability to resist the temptation to look. If he saw a pulse, his vampire might take control.

He wet his lips and braced himself. He could do this. He stopped thinking and focused on the shifters in front of him instead of the thudding, racing heart of the person beside him. Their heartbeats weren’t as strong as the one to the side of him.

His curiosity won.

By the gods. He tried not to stare, but she was uprooting. Jet-black hair, a red dress he wanted to peel from her skin, and a pair of bright green eyes that were the color of jade stones, hypnotized him like a snake charmer to a cobra.

Her eyes found his. Laden with fear, she seemed to plead with him to free her. Then, a strange sensation filled him. He wanted to do more than drink her blood. He wanted to rip her out of that cage and take her far away from the warehouse.

“Did this one go upstairs?” he asked. He could not, for one moment, take his gaze from her even though he knew he probably should. The shifters around him were uncomfortable. He felt the heat of them grow. Their stares were drilling holes in him.

“She’s not for sale.”

At an auction house, everything was for sale. His gaze flicked off of the girl and onto the tallest one in an instant. Even a trained warrior knew when he was outmatched. And to summon the kind of bloodlust it took to defeat them was not something he had in him on this night.

The pack closed in, creating their formation again, ready to jump on him if he made the wrong move. He raised another hand to stay their suspicion. He wasn’t going to just take her. That would be barbaric. And his last resort. For now, he’d have to play it levelheaded if he was going to get her out of that cage.

“What was her bid?”

The tall one had no answer.

Ah. Then, she wasn’t paid for and therefore up for the taking.

“She’s already claimed.” A shorter chestnut-haired shifter made a step toward him.

“Claimed is not the same as paid for, Avin,” the taller one held his hand out to steady his packmate, but his eyes remained trained on his face. He nodded toward him. “What do you propose?”

Garrick looked down at the board, then up at the shifters. “I’ll play you for her.”

Avin didn’t seem to like that idea. He raked a worried hand through his hair and shook his head. The tall one, on the other hand, was more enthused.

“For her, I’ll need another one of these.” He held out the gold coin he’d tossed him.

“What are you—” Avin started, but was hushed by a growl.

“There’s no harm in him putting in a bid of his own. She’s not sold yet. Besides, he has the money now.”

Garrick slid another coin from his pocket and tossed it over to secure his wager.

The cage rattled beside him.

“Bang on that cage one more time, girl!” the taller one yelled in threat.

Behind it, the girl yelped and settled back. Garrick barely managed to hold his gaze on the shifters as anger tore through him. That shifter was never going to speak to her like that again. Garrick nearly launched himself at him, but years of discipline steadied him.

He’d get her out soon enough. He turned his back to the girl and motioned to the game on the floor. “Are we going to play?”

Bones was supposedly a game of chance. Shake the bones the right way, they would show you favor. The wrong way, and it’d surely spell your demise. It was only a chance game for those who didn’t know how to throw. He’d outlived these shifters by at least a lifetime and had as much practice throwing stones. An advantage that would get the girl out of the cage.

“How many throws?”

“Just one. Win this, win it all.” The taller one’s voice barely disguised his glee. A few of the others tried to hold their laughter.

When he crouched to survey the board, he could see why. A smattering of red and blue rocks scattered across the floor. They held the monopoly. Not good.

“Who’s red?”

The taller one nodded. “Me.”

“And blue?”

Avin pointed at himself.

“What is open?”

“Purple. Newest bidder gets the next throw. House rules.” The tallest grinned widely.

Garrick kept his face neutral.

The shifter thought he’d already won, which was not a far-off assumption. For them, it would probably take a miracle not to lose.

Garrick studied the board. With one throw, his stones might not hold dominion over the others, so he had to throw for points. He’d need a near perfect shot to win by one. If he could manage to push one of their rocks from the arena, perhaps he could be up by three. Maybe. He held out his hand.

A set of shaved rocks was placed in his palm. He nearly hissed. No wonder the shifter danced on his toes. These rocks were sure to lose. These would push none of the others out of the arena, but would win him some points. He had to hope enough.

“Sometimes an unlucky hand is drawn,” the tall one said with feigned pity.

Or sometimes the underdog wins.

Garrick shook the rocks in his hands like makeshift dice and scattered them across the board. The first two met the red quadrant and the others in blue. He collected several of the rocks he’d won and settled back, furiously counting the points. The others leaned in as well. But his count was quicker. A triumphant smirk ghosted his lips. The gods were on his side this day. His stones held dominion on the board.

“Cha! Looks like I win.”

The taller one’s teeth snapped shut. His eyes narrowed; his voice turned accusatory. “You cheat!”

“I played by your rules with your stones. It was a fair win.”

In an instant, the shifter was on his feet. Garrick matched his move, standing to his full length. It became abundantly clear from his peripherals that they hadn’t intended to lose. He ground the stones in his hands into dust. He would not be caught without a way to defend himself against so many.

“Go again. Best two of three.”

“I’ve already won. It is my time to collect.”

His grip tightened against the rocks and dust in his hands, waiting for the pack to make their move. They shared a brief look, then poised for an attack.

“Collect his money and give it to him,” tall one said.

The runt of the pack quickly cleared the board of the paper bills they used in this realm for currency and held it out.

“Take your earnings and leave.”

“Of course.” Garrick stepped backward toward the cage.

“She’s not for sale.”

“She was part of our deal.”

“You can leave with your money, fanger. Or lose your life.”

Cha! Just like a shifter to think with his brawn and not his brains.

“I’ll take what’s mine.” Garrick’s voice settled into a low growl, then he prepared himself for war. He barely flinched toward the cage when the taller one charged at him.

So much for not getting into trouble.

He flung the crushed rocks at them. Dusty powder sprayed in their faces.

“Ah,” one of them cried.

“Fuck, my eyes.”

His back hit the cage, and he gripped it from behind and tore through it. The metal screeched against his hands, but it bent enough for her to fit through. He moved to the side so she could climb out. Her scent became stronger as she brushed past him, then stalled at his back.

“Run. No matter what you hear.” He didn’t have to look to see she’d taken off without needing to be told a second time. Her delicate footfalls pattered through the warehouse.

“Stop her,” the tall one shouted.

Avin took off after her, but he was faster. Garrick bulldozed into the shorter shifter and tackled him to the ground. Patches of black fur burst from his body as Avin began to shift under him. His pack was not far behind. Crouching into offensive positions, they stalked toward him, in varying stages of animal-human-hybrid.

Right. He needed to leave. This was not a match he could win. Avin’s claws sliced into his arm, burning a deep gash in its wake. Dark reddish-black blood leaked down his bicep.

With a groan, Garrick reached for the dagger in his pants and shoved it into the shifting wolf until he released him.

Howling, the shifter flailed against the ground, but the wound was already starting to heal.

“Get him.” The words mangled into a half-roar.

The pack devolved into howls as they met their final change. Howls that terrified him. A single vampire against a pack of coordinated shifters would not survive.

If he had any hope of getting out of there, he needed to leave now. Garrick slid off the shifter and broke into a run after the woman he’d just freed.

With vicious snarls, the wolves followed.