Allyn and Ransom – 19

 

 

Liam was shivering. For a moment he couldn't figure out why, until he realized he was naked. Naked and in a room he didn't recognize.

 

Then it all came back to him.

 

He had left the gala feeling a bit forlorn. Even though he had enjoyed himself, he'd missed being able to share it with Allyn. It had been well after midnight and he'd savored the cool air—relishing it, in fact, as the building had been almost too warm, thanks to all the people there.

 

"Leaving already?" someone had said from behind him.

 

He'd turned to see a tall, dark-haired man standing there. "I figured I'd beat the crowds," Liam had replied.

 

"I can't say that I blame you. I feel the same way." The man had tapped his lip. "I was watching you in there. You seem to be having a great deal of fun."

 

"I'm a film addict," Liam had admitted. "And when Oliver Wilson… You know who he is?"

 

"Yes. The star of the indy film that was such a hit at Sundance."

 

"Have you seen it? Wasn't he absolutely fantastic?"

 

Liam remembered he and the man had started trading stories about the films they liked and didn't like. Somehow, in the process, Liam had ended up in the man's car. That was the last he recalled until the man had led him into this…basement? Why did he…? Liam's eyes widened in horror, his pulse pounding when he touched two fingers to his neck. He pulled them away, puzzled. He bit me! I know he did. He had fangs and he bit me. He thinks he's a vampire. He's crazy. He must have given me something… Liam tried to remember if he'd eaten or drunk anything and couldn't.

 

I have to get out of here. He looked around for his clothes. Nothing. The room was barren except for a door, a window high on one wall—pale light coming through it—and a set of shelves along another one. He staggered to his feet, waited a moment for the dizziness to pass, then went to the door. It was locked. He shook the handle, screaming for help. All he got in return were his words echoing off the walls.

 

Next he tried to reach the window. His fingers barely touched the sill and he was too weak to jump then try to pull himself up. Not that it would do any good. It's probably locked too. Still…

 

He looked at the shelves, wondering if he could move them under the window. Going over to the shelves, he began to tug at them. They moved, and when they did, he saw there was something behind them. A door. Another door. Please, God, let it be unlocked.

 

He turned the handle. The door opened.

 

"Thank you. Thank you."

 

Cautiously he peered past it. There was a long hallway, the only light coming through the window high above the floor, halfway down. At the far end, he saw another door. Heart in hand, he made his way to the three stairs leading to the door. Once again he prayed it would open, and not into the rest of the house—or wherever he was. He pushed the door open.

 

Ahead of him was a short stretch of grass. Above him, the almost full moon gave enough light for him to see the trees surrounding the lawn. For a second he wondered about the wisdom of taking off when he wasn't wearing anything, including shoes. The hell with it. I have to get away from here before that crazy bastard knows I'm missing. Taking a deep breath, he dashed madly across the lawn into the forest.

 

"Going somewhere?"

 

Liam spun around. The man, dressed all in black, was standing on a veranda several yards from where Liam had exited.

 

"I will give you a five minute head start," the man said. "If you can escape, more power to you. If not, I will feed on you, draining the last drop of blood from your carcass, then dispose of you as I have the others."

 

"You're crazy!" Liam shouted. Suddenly it hit him. He wasn't this man's only victim, from what he'd said. Liam remembered the news stories of the guy who had vanished after the masked ball. He started to shake in fear.

 

"Four minutes," the man said, stepping off the veranda to the lawn.

 

Liam turned and ran. There were large trees, smaller ones, and brush. Branches lashed him as he raced by them, but he ignored their stings on his bare flesh and the feel of oozing blood. The ground was covered with leaves and fallen branches. Liam realized almost instantly that he was making noise as he sped pell-mell through the forest, ignoring the pain when he stepped on sharp stones. He came to a stop beside a tall, thick-trunked tree, pressing against it while listening for the sound of pursuit. His feet were in agony now, but he did his best to push the pain to the back of his mind. It would only interfere with his ability to come up with a plan to get away from…from the insanity of his situation.

 

He wasn't certain if he was thankful for the moonlight filtering through the branches—since it meant he could see where he was going—or terrified because his captor could see him when he moved. With no clothes, Liam knew his pale skin probably acted as a beacon to the man pursuing him. He inched down to his knees, all the time listening for any sounds that would say the man was nearby. Then he dug through the leafy ground cover to the damp earth beneath it. Taking a handful, he rubbed it over his chest—the pain barely an issue compared to his safety. Digging again and again, he did his best to cover his whole body with the dirt. Not much camouflage, but better than nothing.

 

His pulse was racing. He forced himself to remain calm while trying to figure out which way to go. I came from that way, I think. If I keep the moon to my left, at least I won't be traveling in circles. Creeping slowly forward to the next tree, he stood, using it as cover while he surveyed his surroundings.