Hunting Tess Kathryn Summers (books to read in a lifetime txt) 📖

The words fly over my head as incoherent mutterings while I plan out a way to escape. Now if only an idea would come.

My phone. Currently crushed against white fingers, the screen is pressed into the only thin fabric separating me from a mass of monsters. If I can send a text and stall, maybe Parker will get here in time.

Summoning every ounce of acting magic that’s accompanied me throughout the years, I look down at the towel with a slight degree of horror. “Change,” I whisper, the word feeling odd passing through my lips. “I need to change.”

The pressure lessens slightly at my arm. “Excellent choice, my dear.”

A vampire shoves a bundle of clothing at me which I quickly scamper to catch, not wanting to retrieve any pieces from the floor.

Stumbling backwards, I try to use the clumsiness as a cover for unlocking my phone. Low sniggering follows the incident until I parade into the bathroom followed by the Master and two of his goons. One of the tall vampires dressed in solid black shuts the door, muting the obnoxious choking sounds barely passing for a dry chuckle.

“I didn’t agree to three.”

“And yet here we are.”

Fully aware they’re only here to protect their leader doesn’t give me a good chance for a successful attack. “Turn around.” The forceful demand is neither weak nor leaves room for dispute.

“Manners,” he chides, his dark hair making his already fair skin pallid. When my expression does nothing to change, he slowly turns. The other two only rotate half-way with their eyes adverted. Even if all three backs were to me, I don’t know if I could move to put on whatever clothes I’m clutching to my chest. What if someone turns? Or they glance in the mirror? No. No no no no no.

Swiping out an SOS, I cough to cover up any sound that doesn’t comprise the ruffling of fabric. I fervently pray Parker hasn’t entered a dead zone on his way to Florence.

Peeking at the clothing I was so rudely handed, I lift up a shirt in hopes to find underwear beneath when the phone slips against the towel. Sloping downward, my left hand fumbles the catch while trying to keep the towel securely fastened. With a painful thud it hits against the toilet before bouncing to the floor.

The four of us stare at the floor like it has the most fascinating renaissance painting by Da Vinci himself before I lift my gaze to three very angry sets of eyes.

The one closest to the door moves to intercept whatever he fears I’ll do to his leader. He yowls in pain as I kick out his knee. Wanting to rip the towel rack off the wall but worried about dropping any article of clothing in case I also lose part of the towel itself, my elbow slides into the stomach of another attacker. Ready to spin around him and try my luck with the horde outside, a sharp sting pierces my upper arm. Trying to shake off the cooling feeling spreading outward from the origin point, it takes my mind a moment to realize that my arm didn’t follow the command to open the door.

Looking down, I see my hand fall of its own accord before arms wrap around me from behind, keeping my towel in place. Other appendages follow suit in mere moments until I have no control of my body.

“Wrap her in the blanket from the bed. We’re leaving.”

CHAPTER 17

HER

I wonder how many bones I’ll break if I jump.

My hair stirs in the chilly wind, but at least there’s fresh air on the balcony as opposed to my suite of rooms pumping out ventilated air.

“Do you not care for steak?” Kleidion asks from across the table. Foregoing a candle, a good move on his part since servers would constantly be relighting it with the wind, there are several strands of twinkling lights decorating the private balcony outside my sitting room. If he’s hoping for a romantic ambience, I would gladly tell him, again, that he’s failing.

The heavy piece of meat sits untouched on my plate next to sauteed turnips and bacon Brussel sprouts. The meal looks fine but the company squashes my appetite. The chains around my wrists also dampen the mood.

Looking out to the rugged mountains lining the distance, I trace their peaks illuminated by moonlight.

“You must eat, keep up your energy.”

“My energy is no concern of yours.”

“You shy away from the inevitable. I’m not a monster, but I will not wait forever.”

Feeling the topic shifting toward dangerous grounds I have no desire to cross, I pick at the roll resting on a side plate. The ridiculousness of eating in chains has grown more normalized with ever passing meal which is probably not a good thing.

Nibbling the food is enough to stop Kleidion’s pestering, cutting off the route I know he was going to take since he has been relentless in telling me my future place. From the fairly graphic picture he paints, I know he is expecting children. Lots of them. I have to forcefully swallow the bite of bread caught in my throat and hope it doesn’t make a return visit.

Because vampires believe the institution of marriage is a mortal’s drive to form lasting relationships, and I don’t know whether they scoff at the idea because it’s human or because they don’t want to be bound for hundreds of years, they don’t get married. So basically I get to live as a concubine, my days confined to a set of rooms locked from the outside. At least, until I find a way to escape, or, as a last resort, jump.

“Did you have a nice day?”

Even one of the server’s flinch. Probably not at his asinine question, but rather my homicidal expression. Clearly waiting for a response, I take the rose he offered me at the beginning of the meal, snap off its head, and drop the stem and petals into the glass water pitcher.

I’ll probably