“What the hell?” Cassius yelled, racing to her side.
“Mmm,” she grunted, snapping her head from one side to the other.
With one quick tug, he peeled the duct tape away from her lips. “Lara! Are you all right?”
Finally, free of the seal across her lips, she spoke. “Cassius! You’ve got to get out of here, you’ve got to go!”
Cassius began untying her wrists that were being held together by rope to the corners of the bedpost. “What? What happened? Who did this to you?”
He grabbed her white silk robe off the bed and covered her bare, naked body. He then turned and reached for her left ankle to continue freeing her.
“It was—”
Before she had a chance to finish her statement, a blow to the back of his head sent him reeling to the ground.
“Milo, no!” Lara screamed.
“Owww...” Cassius rubbed his head, trying to regain his consciousness, and before his eyes could adjust, Dane threw himself on top of him, wrestling him with a wooden stake.
His eyes widened. What the hell was Dane doing?
Cassius fought to keep Dane away from connecting his body with the stake. Had Dane lost his damn mind? If he pierced his heart with that stake, he’d turn to dust. Dane knew that.
What the fuck is going on?
“Dane! What the hell are you doing!” Cassius shouted, his hands on Dane’s wrists. He needed to hold him back, making sure he wouldn’t win. The struggle was taking a lot out of him, but he had no choice but to fight.
“That’s not Detective Carter... it’s Milo!” Lara shouted, now on her feet.
Milo? As in her dead husband, Milo?
Cassius caught a glimpse of Lara racing over to where he and Milo were wrestling on the ground, trying to pry her ex, dead, husband off of Cassius.
But Milo was too strong for her. “Back away, bitch!” With one quick, swift movement, he shoved Lara off of him, sending her flying into the wall across the room, hitting her head on the dresser on her way down.
Lara! He needed to save her and make sure she was okay. But at that moment, he needed to find a way to break free from Milo’s restraint on him.
Taking advantage of Milo being distracted, Cassius jerked forward, knocking him to the ground. The stake flew across the room.
“Ah! No!” Milo roared, trying and failing to get his balance back.
“What the hell is going on?” Cassius asked. He quickly scanned the room to see if there were any objects near so that he could knock his assailant out.
A sinister laugh followed by a macabre smile took over Dane’s face causing Cassius to stop dead in his tracks. “Surprise, Cassius! Or should I refer to you as bloodsucker?”
Bloodsucker? How did Milo know about Cassius being a vampire?
“Shocked much?” He asked Cassius, still showcasing the same smirk that was plastered on his face.
“How could you possibly know that about me?” Cassius tightened his grip around Dane’s wrists as he tried to jerk and free himself from his hold.
“You mean that you’re a vampire?” Milo let out another chilling laugh, filling the room. He shoved and pushed, but his strength was no match to Cassius’. “Because the great thing about being a ghost and possessing someone else’s body is you get to find out all their dirty little secrets. And you, Dracula, were one of the top people, or rather top undead, on Detective Carter’s list.”
“Ca-Cassius?” Lara’s voice broke through, causing both men to look her way.
As Milo’s full attention averted to her, Cassius let go of his grip on Milo with his right hand and swung with all his might to connect a blow to his face. Two slams to his jaw later, and Milo was lights out.
“The great thing about being a vampire is being twice as strong as any Casper-resembling motherfucker.” Cassius pushed Dane’s unconscious body to the side and rose up.
“Lara!” He raced to help her up. She seemed weak and pale. “Are you all right?”
Lara grabbed her forehead, allowing Cassius to guide her to her feet. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay?”
Cassius’s gaze darted to the unmoving Dane... Milo... whoever, and then focused back on her.
“I am now. Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here.”
“What about him?” Lara said, pointing to Dane’s body on the ground.
Cassius thought for a moment before saying. “We’ll take him with us. Got any more rope?”
CHAPTER 9
Lara’s eyes slid across the bed, focusing on the limp bindings dangling from the bedposts. Where Milo had stashed the rope, she wasn’t sure, but it took him less than two minutes to lash her wrists to the bed once he pinned her body to the mattress with his knees, or rather Detective Carter’s knees.
Did one refer to the person or the being inhabiting them when discussing the actions of that possessed person?
She shivered, drawing the robe tighter around her body. She’d lost her makeshift toga somewhere in the house, forgotten as she struggled with Milo—she decided since he was responsible for the actions of Detective Carter’s body, it would best to attribute the blame to him.
His strength was unfathomable. After he dragged her into the house, he threw her toward the staircase, chuckling as she tripped, her feet wrapped up in the sheet. She crashed to the floor with a moan. Milo kicked the door closed behind him and paused. With a wink, he spun around and locked the door.
“Wouldn’t want anyone interrupting us.” His menacing voice wrapped around her, chilling her blood. Plucking her throbbing body from the floor, he threw her over his shoulder and smacked her butt with a force so strong, it stole her breath.
She beat her fists against his back, filling her lungs with oxygen. Before she could scream, Milo flung her onto the bed, and crawled onto her body, crushing her chest. One hand closed around her throat, squeezing. As her vision blurred, ropes appeared in Milo’s free hand, as if conjured out of the air. Strength ebbed from her limbs.
Milo fastened her right hand against the bed post. His fingers slid down her arm, across her chest, and up the other arm, which he slammed against the opposite bedpost. Crawling down her torso, he grabbed her hips and yanked. The ropes dug into her skin. She cried out; her mind ripped back from the moment of unconsciousness.
Unbuttoning his pants, Milo dropped them from his hips and stepped out of the fabric that puddled on the floor, his erection strained against his boxers. Reaching down, he stroked himself through the fabric, then crawled onto the bed.
“Get ready to scream,” he said, reaching for her leg.
She kicked him, her foot catching him in the jaw, and he twisted away, his hand flying to his face. A hiss escaped his lips. Ducking down, he vanished from sight. Lara craned her head, searching for him. When he popped up, a dark smile pulled at his lips.
“I was hoping you’d fight me.”
Grabbing her foot, he tied a third rope around her leg, binding her ankle to the bedpost. She kicked him with her free leg, but eventually, he pinned it down too, as she feared he would, and forced her legs open, tying the other leg to the post. His fingers trailed over her instep and skated up her skin. Her leg jerked.
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to her abdomen; his tongue darted across her skin, slid over her hip, and traced the line where her leg met her torso. He inhaled, a slow deliberate breath, and lifted his hungry gaze. “You smell delicious.”