Author: catstark

From The Grey House:

Charlie stood and continued his search of the house. The kitchen was the only other room with anything out of place. Whoever took her came while she was eating breakfast. There was a bowl of congealed cereal sitting on the kitchen table. A hard piece of half eaten toast was next to it, along with a glass of orange juice. A breeze came through the open window and ruffled the paper napkin being held down by the butter stained knife.

Charlie stood clenching his fists, regulating his breathing. There was no use for his wolf form now. Calmed, he took out his cell and called Rebecca.

Half an hour later, he was in Vincent’s limo, wondering, among other things, how the vampire had arrived so quickly.

From The Grey House:

Natalia walked Anthony out the door, down the steps, through the club and out the main entrance. As she passed each bouncer she spoke their name and one word. It would ensure that they let her pass and then remember her. She was sure that Vincent already knew how she had gotten past, so it was more for fun. Also, if they were punished for their folly, the bouncers would at least know why.

Once on the street Natalia led Anthony halfway down the block. There was a line of people waiting by the door of The Red Thread, and she did not want an audience. Once out of sight, she stopped and turned to her prisoner.

From The Grey House:

She opened her mouth to answer but was stopped by a familiar alarm. She turned her head to the left as she realized it was her phone alarm. She had an early breakfast meeting and had set the alarm a few days ago. It was five in the morning. The sun would be up in less than an hour and her appointment was in two hours. Natalia needed to get ready. She tried to get off Vincent, but he held her to him.

“I didn’t say you could leave.” He growled.

“I want to turn off my alarm. And sunrise is sooner than you think.”

Vincent let Natalia go. She grabbed her phone and turned off the alarm. Natalia searched for her clothing but could only find her shorts and panties. Vincent was up and searching for his own clothing. His were all together in a pile on the deck. His cell rang as he picked up his pants. He answered as he sat to slip on his jeans.

From The Grey House:

A tall thin vampire with a shaved head stepped in front of him and tried to get his attention. It still took a minute for Joseph to catch Vincent’s eye. “What is it?”

“We have an intruder.” Joseph spoke quietly and directed Vincent’s attention to the woman in the blue velvet dress. She was speaking to Morgan, or rather; she was ignoring Morgan, who was trying to talk to her.

“Who is she?” Vincent was mildly curious about the olive-skinned woman in the blue dress. Her beautiful black hair was mostly tied back in a French twist, with a few loose strands framing her face. He could not see her eyes, but he assumed they would be dark.

“Human.”

From The Grey House:

“I can drive her back, no problem, sir, but why? There’s plenty of time to get back before sunrise.” Charlie almost never did anything without questioning Vincent, which sometimes amused his boss and sometimes angered him. This time, Vincent became angry, but answered truthfully.

“There is too much of her blood in the air.”

Charlie’s eyes opened wide, but Vincent’s answer made his stop arguing. “I’ll take her home tonight.”

“She has an appointment with her friend not this morning, but the next. It’s at The Silver Spoon at ten in the morning. Make sure she gets there.”

From The Grey House:

Zechariah stayed true to his word. As long as she did as she was told and showed no defiance, she was allowed to roam the cabin freely. She was allowed outside if someone was with her and allowed to bathe and change her clothing on a regular basis. Miguel bought her three pairs of jeans and enough shirts, underwear and socks to have clean clothing every day as long as she did her laundry once a week. She had to wash her clothing in the sink and hang everything out to dry, but she didn’t care. It was clean clothing.

Natalia was still locked in a room at night, but she could count the passage of time. Also, she had a bed and a table in the room. She wasn’t forced to sleep on the floor. And as the door was locked, she didn’t have to worry about anyone coming in uninvited. Zechariah and Dean were the only ones allowed to unlock her door. She was also being fed on a regular basis; one of her chores was to cook the daily meals. Someone else bought the food.

From The Grey House:

Vincent peered down the beach, trying to see what the screens could not catch, but there was still no sign of her. He made himself comfortable, looked down the beach, and waited for her to arrive. A minute later he picked up her backpack. Inside the main pocket was clothing, a notebook with a pen in the spiral, and a hand towel wrapped around a sheathed knife. Frowning, Vincent unsheathed the knife. It was a hunting dagger, quite sharp, too. Vincent brought the blade to his nose and sniffed. He turned his head away; she probably cleaned the blade with garlic infused oil. Not a half bad idea.

From The Grey House:

Two guards came forward and pulled Aaron away. The human was not dead yet, neither was he drained. He would be taken to another cell, left to heal, then fed on by whomever Vincent felt like feeding him to. All the vampires who lived under his roof were well fed, but Vincent enjoyed scaring stupid humans. It was fun to watch them.

Vincent wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand as Aaron was being dragged away. He hated drinking from men. Fresh blood was an aphrodisiac to him; drinking from willing women was just more fun. Filled and yet highly unsatisfied, he turned to the mage.

“Banish him.”

From The Grey House:

Vincent paused and walked to his desk. He unlocked and opened a drawer. He pulled out a small lock box, opened it, pulled out an envelope, and put the box back. “It would have been very easy for your ancestors to end the debt. Any of them could have ended it without paying it back. All they would have had to do was not have children. But generation after generation, your family made sure there was someone to pass the debt on to. It showed me the amount of loyalty your family had. And as I said, I repay loyalty.”

From The Grey House:

“This restaurant has too many memories.”

He smiled. “I met you the second time because of The Silver Spoon.”

She gave a slightly bitter laugh. “The memory isn’t lost on me, oh observant one.”

Charlie shrunk back into himself. Her tone of voice was not entirely kind. “Sorry.”