Free A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) by Kiersten Fay Page A

chin to tilt her head up. When she reluctantly looked into his eyes, he said, “I have no intention of taking you anywhere besides a safe house, or sharing you with anyone. And as for master, I’m not one to claim lordship over unwilling women. But I won’t lie, I enjoyed giving you pleasure last night, and that’s all my bite was meant to do, nothing more.” He paused. “Now tell me what happened to you that has you reacting this strongly?”
    Her shoulders hunched, and she looked away. She remained silent so long that if it weren’t for the open debate raging behind her eyes, he would think she had no intention of answering him at all.
    She inhaled a sharp breath and raised her chin. “I was held captive by a vampire named Edgar when I was ten.”
    With that simple revelation, white-hot anger flashed through every cell in his body with his imagination acting as fuel. What had she endured? In an instant, he’d shuffled through the memories of every vampire he ever met, trying to recall any named Edgar, a death warrant already issued in his mind.
    “Mason?” Cora came back into view. Her eyes were wide, her body shaking. He realized she was terrified…by him.
    And for good reason. His fangs had emerged with his rage. His body had tensed. His expression? He could just imagine how ruthless he appeared now.
    He released her and stepped away, focusing on schooling his features.
    Still wary, she fell back a couple paces. 
    “Where is he now?” he hissed through his clenched fangs.
    “He’s dead,” she replied, taking another step back.
    “Don’t move,” he warned her.
    She froze.
    “Just give me a moment.” He’d never been driven to fury so quickly. If she ran from him now, it would only exacerbate his rage. “Tell me how he died.” Humans often assumed vampires were dead when they really weren’t.
    “He was torn apart by his commanding officer right in front of me.”
    “Commanding officer?”
    “It was near the end of the last uprising when there were pockets of militant groups all over. I think Edgar was a low-level soldier. His commander found me in his quarters and ordered him to release me. Edgar had refused.”
    “The fucker must have been really young, then.” Disobeying an order from a superior—which generally meant an older and much stronger vampire—was an amateur move.
    “I wouldn’t know. He never revealed his age, just liked to divulge his future plans for me.”
    “And what were these plans?”
    She shrugged. “Things he would do to me, or things he wanted to watch others do. He would ravage my neck and then try to make me beg for his blood. Stuff like that?”
    Her flippant tone didn’t quite hide her obvious pain or the terror she’d endured.
    He glanced at the delicate column of her neck. There were no scars, but that meant little. Winston had been giving her vamp blood for months. It had cleared her of any scars, making her skin flawless.
    “Did Edgar ever manage to give you any of his blood? When you were too weak to protest, maybe?” Jealousy turned Mason’s hands into tight, white-knuckled fists.
    “No. I’m sure of it.”
    He wasn’t sure if he should be elated or more furious about that. Her wounds would have had to heal naturally. “What else did he do?”
    “He just drank from me and told me horrid things.”
    “He didn’t…touch you?”
    “Not in a sexual way, if that’s what you mean. I think he got his rocks off by hurting me.”
    Mace scrubbed a hand down his face, relief softening him further. “I’m sorry that happened to you. We aren’t all like that. Just like your human race, we have our share of criminals, too.”
    She stared blankly at him, giving him the impression she didn’t quite believe him. He couldn’t blame her for that. It was no wonder she found it difficult to trust him, and how she had learned her near-perfect submission act.
    It was born of necessity.
    “If this Edgar were alive today, I would hunt him down and make him