“There could be guards.” His mind started to work. He refused to fuck a human. He’d never live it down if any of his clan found out. “Hold still while I look around.”

“Won’t all the Vampires burn if they come out into the sun?”

“Sometimes Vampires have humans under their control.”

“Oh. You didn’t need to cage me under you. Just tell me not to move.”

He wanted her to move. He’d like it if she dropped her arms and shoved her ass up in the air again to press against his groin. It would be simple to rip away those panties covering her pussy, jerk up the material covering his dick, and enter her from that position.

He forced his gaze away from hers, looking around. Think! He breathed through his mouth, a sad attempt to avoid her scent. The Vamps had let her bathe and wash her clothing. She didn’t smell bad at all. He wished she did.

The truck was gone and no other vehicles were within sight. “The master must have left and took the vehicle with him. It explains why he didn’t come after us.” His anger at that suckhead helped him ignore the desire to fuck Glenda. “He must have a day place nearby though. He wouldn’t go far from his nest.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Bad. We’re going to have to hike out of here and find a road or a home.”

“Great. Between us, we’re almost dressed.”

She had to remind him of how little they wore. He lifted up and straightened, adjusting his dick before she noticed. It was impossible to hide his erection though so he decided to ignore his lower half. He got to his feet and walked toward the entrance of the mine. He refused to see if she followed. It was safer for Glenda if he avoided looking at her.

“So rude,” she muttered.

He hoped she didn’t like him. It would mean she wouldn’t come on to him. At this point, he’d fuck her if she did.

Veso let the entire situation sink in and the rage that surfaced helped to cool his desire for the human. He’d been drugged, taken from his territory, had to depend on a human to help him escape, and now they didn’t have access to a vehicle.

He examined the tracks in the dirt. “There is only the truck. These were all made by the same one. We’ll follow the tire tracks and it will lead to a road. Keep up.”

“Sure. No problem.”

Sarcasm. He remembered why he didn’t like humans. The problem was, Glenda was growing on him. She hadn’t burst into tears or acted the way he thought she would. It left him a little off balance. That has to be it, he decided. That was where the attraction had sprung from.

“What do we do when we reach a road? Hitchhike?”

“Yes.” He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d pull whoever stopped out of their vehicle and alter their memories. The person would never remember picking up two people or driving them anywhere. He wouldn’t leave an innocent in the middle of nowhere.

She’d just find out what he could do, and possibly guess she might get her memories wiped too. He could always take control of her mind if she panicked and tried to run away.

Veso was careful not to walk too fast. She was barefoot but the dirt road wasn’t rocky. He didn’t want to tire her out too quickly. The last thing he needed was to have her in his arms ever again. She didn’t complain as he led her forward, always watchful for anything that could be a danger.

They came across a house a mile down the road. He held up his arm to indicate she should stop, and then sniffed the air. “Shit. Stay here.”

“What is it?”

“I smell death. The Vamps had to drive right past this place. They probably fed off the inhabitants.”

“I hope not.”

“It’s what they do. Humans are cattle to feed from to them.”

“Nice.”

He glanced back, holding her gaze. “It’s how they think. I don’t have the same opinion since I don’t drink blood. I’m going to look inside. Don’t move.”

“Like my feet are glued to the ground,” she promised, crossing a finger over her heart.

He understood the gesture and shook his head. Silly humans.

He strode toward the house, hoping the master hid somewhere inside. He’d love some payback and ripping off his head would help. He was wearing a woman’s skirt and it was all that prick’s fault.

The back door opened at the twist of his hand on the knob. The smell of death didn’t travel inside with him. It meant the body remained outside. He searched the one-story cabin, finding no trapdoor or life inside. He listened, sniffing again. There wasn’t a trace of cooked food or that of the fireplace being recently used. He checked the two closets and even climbed up inside the loft. It was empty. He dropped down and exited through the back door. No vehicle was within sight.

He rounded the cabin and spotted Glenda almost where he’d left her. She’d moved off the dirt road to sit on the grass. He sniffed, following the smell of death.

He found where the human had been buried in a shallow grave behind a tall wood pile. The earth had been turned over but it didn’t look too recent. Perhaps a week, maybe two. He couldn’t tell how many bodies were down there but the interior of the home had appeared as if a single human had lived inside. He left the wood pile and whistled.

Glenda lifted her head.

“Come inside. It’s safe.”

“Nobody’s home?”

“No.” He didn’t want to share what happened to the homeowner. It might make her leery. Some humans didn’t like to enter the dwellings of dead people.

She followed him inside and immediately lunged toward the phone. He grabbed it from her but didn’t hear a dial tone. It either wasn’t connected, or the Vampires might have pulled a wire to the house before they attacked so the owner couldn’t call for help.

“Give that back. I need to call the police.”

“No.” He wasn’t certain how she’d take it if she found out it was damaged. It was possible she’d cry. He didn’t want to witness that. He’d have to go out and see if he could fix it, but even if he were able to get it working, he still didn’t want her to use the phone. The last thing he needed was a bunch of humans around.

Her mouth parted.

“My kind will handle this. Do you want more humans to die? Those soldiers would slaughter humans, even ones with guns. Do you understand? Go shower. There’s a bathroom. I’ll make the call.”