Free Chosen (Part I) by Emma Clark

Deep voices resonated and roused me from sleep. My eyelids popped open.
    Everything blurred while only a stone ceiling came into focus.
    Can't remember a damn thing. Why? Where am I?
    I gasped, flailed my arms, kicked at empty air and lurched upright. I twisted about looking for something, anything that would help me make sense of this.
    I quieted as my vision cleared.
    Within a huge red room, scary Gothic paintings lined the walls and candles glowed in every corner. A sectional sofa arched around a coffee table. Persian rugs scattered a polished floor and a bed nestled inside an alcove several feet away.
    And I sat on a round bed that was so enormous the edge seemed miles off. Silken sheets—the color of blood—swathed my waist.
    Jagged shadows danced in crevices but one of them enlarged, smoothed and took on a man's shape.
    " Bon jour. " He approached, flashed a white smile graced by attractive lips. Strangely, his incisors looked a little too long.
    He wore an ebony silk robe. The hood obscured most of his face, the rest shrouded by shadows.
    Swallowing back panic, I managed to say something. "Uh, excuse me, but can you tell me where I am? How—who brought me here?" I'm really scared and trying not to lose my head.
    I leaned forth and prepared to beg for my life.
    "Welcome to the home of my father. We call this place Jardin d'Eden . I'm Master Ryan Bouvier, and I'm pleased to meet you if you'd tell me your name." Another creepy grin as he clasped his fingers and studied me.
    Why the hell did he refer to himself as Master Ryan?
    "I'm Tatum."
    "Last name?" he asked.
    "Oh. Uh, uh..." Jesus Christ. I forgot my last name! What was it? Oh yeah. "Thomas. Tatum Thomas.”
    A smile played at his lips.
    “Please answer me. Why am I here?"
    "Tatum, you've been chosen for our competition. So count yourself as lucky."
    Lucky? "A competition? What kind of competition?"
    "A game we have once every ten years," he said. "We find thirteen of the most attractive untouched girls, and we allow thirteen male immortals over the age of twenty-one to choose a favorite. They can do whatever they want with her—as long as they don't have sex. Whoever goes the longest without sex is the winning immortal. He gets to keep his favorite girl and choose another virgin as well." His grin spread. "Awesome, isn't it?"
    Why did his incisors suddenly appear even longer ? And what about this other nonsense? 
    "Untouched?" I questioned already suspecting the answer. A sharp tingling crept up my thighs.
    "Yes. Virgins. And the three winners—the immortal and two virgins—will be moved into their own suite for thirty nights to begin consummating. I can assure you of nice accommodations."
    I gaped.
    "After those thirty days are up, the winner chooses one deflowered girl to keep. The other will be disposed."
    My throat tightened. Confusion mounted.
    Ryan nudged the hood to reveal his eyes; the deepest blue eyes I'd ever seen. Luminous rings encircled each iris. Blond fringe shaded his left eye.
    Too much was happening. Going too fast.
    Immortal? Disposed of? Virgins? Game?
    "What do you mean when you say 'immortal' or 'disposed'?" Oh god. Like I really want to know the answer to this shit.
    "Immortal as in those who don't die, of course." His lips formed a tense line.
    "Those who don't die ? What the fuck does that mean?" I wagged my head.
    "Christ! Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?" Ryan's eyes widened and blazed.
    This didn't help calm my fears.
    A second figure emerged. His robe swished as he strode next to Ryan. Both men were too close to me.
    Way too close.
    "As Ryan already told you, we're immortals. Probably known as vampires where you come from. We prefer not using that label. We prefer the girls not use it either. Thanks."
    Sure. Okay. My mind spun out of control. So did the room. I slapped a hand to my forehead, raked my hair even though I wanted to tear it out.
    Numb from the waist down, I silently pleaded as my tears welled and smeared