She grabbed a slice of cheesecake from the banquet table and escaped with it to the hall. Even though she was a vampire, she still had a sweet tooth and indulged sometimes. Christian and the others would often scold her for it because the treats always made her regurgitate the sin.
Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Addison startled and nearly dropped her treat. She felt a sharp pain in her chest but tried to push it back. She had no idea what had caused it. Her body was weak and she could barely stand.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds before facing the person behind her. She stared at him with wide eyes, the plate resting near her chest, the ceramic cool against her skin.
The man donned a black, one-piece blue jumpsuit bearing the name “Vic”. A large gas mask covered his face and hid his identity. She assumed whatever he was up to involved something that poisoned the air.
Was he going to fumigate the party with some drug? Is that what was making her feel weak? The thoughts swarmed in her head as she forced her shaky legs to take a step back. She hit the wall and couldn’t go any further.
A few people filtered out of the ballroom, Addison turning to them. He snatched her plate, then bent down, grabbed her around the back of her knees, and threw her over his shoulder. She began to cry, the pain shooting through her body unbearable.
Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. She choked on each breath, her tears thickening in her throat and making her cough. She bit her lip to hold back the urge to scream. In the process, she pricked her lip with her teeth, the taste of her own blood a slight distraction. His strong hands held her tight, the leather on his gloves scratchy, like they’d seen a lot of use.
Luckily, he didn’t take her far. He darted into a dark room down the hall and slammed the door. He set her down on a countertop and she tried to collect herself as the pain in her chest dulled.
The light came on and she saw her captor. He slammed her plate on the counter next to her. It bounced, the ceramic scraping on the stone. The cake was still stuck to the plate, something she didn’t think would survive the trip here.
She held a hand to her bleeding lip. She sucked on it, praying it would heal quickly. It was only a minor wound.
They were in a bathroom, the space containing a toilet and large vanity. The surface of the mirror chilled her bare back. It was quiet here, the sound of music from the ballroom inaudible.
He placed both hands on the counter, cementing her hips between his hands. Her dress was hiked up from the rough ride here, and she could feel the cold stone chilling her bottom through her thin panties.
Realizing the blunder, she gasped and pulled down the skirt of her dress. She continued sucking on her lip, but she could no longer taste blood. Slowly, she let it roll out from under her teeth and pouted her bottom lip.
She pushed out the words, but her voice was shaky. “Who are you and what are you going to do to me?”
Like a frightened animal, she cringed backward, pushing up against the mirror. She gazed into the cloudy plastic shield hiding his eyes but couldn’t make out his face.
His voice sounded robotic, like it was coming from a microphone. “Round two.”
“What?” Confused, she drew her hands to her chest, her voice soft.
He took a step back and readjusted his heavy belt, his hands covered by gloves. “Round two.” He held up two fingers and cocked his head to the side.
Licking her lips, she studied him closely. Great fear burned in her chest. This was Monroe. It had to be. She needed to play this cool or she could be in some real trouble. Right now, she was in a bad place, and his medallion was making her weak. She couldn’t let him see it, though.
Making a sour face, she pretended to calm down. “That hunter who gave me those valentines?” She dropped her hands and palmed the surface of the countertop. When he didn’t answer, she continued. “I don’t want to play your game. Stop chasing me.”