Love Sucks

Hold Me While I sleep - Chap. Twenty-Two

Abigail froze, her body rigid in determination, yet indescribable fear. Lucifer was the last person she would ever want to encounter, but she found herself standing there, straightening her spine to look the man in his eyes; watery, dead, emotionless blue eyes.

"I need to speak with you." Abbi whispered, her mouth opening and closing, unsure whether it was terror or fury overriding her ability to think correctly.

Lucifer leaned into an easy grin. "It would seem we have the same intentions then. Shall I escort you to a more quiet place so we can chat?"

She had the fierce urge to decline this offer, but instead Abbi said, "Of course. Lead the way."

He hadn't yet spoken anything else before the man grasped her arm with a rough turn and started to pull her deeper into the midst of the mansion. The light from the room quickly disappeared behind them, and a murky darkness filled enveloped the room. The only sense Abbi had left was her hearing, and that was proving to be a rather useless thing - vampires walked without a sound, and the only sound was her own seemingly loud footsteps.

A rusty hinge shrieked as a door was yanked open. Lucifer quickly shoved her inside, and she assumed he followed behind.

The pitch-black settled around them, the light still refused to reveal itself. Just when Abbi had thought that Lucifer only meant to lock her in this cellar-like room, a sweep of fabric rustled at a far away point - then the room was lit by the pallid moon.

As Abbi's eyes lifted up to greet the being in front her, Lucifer's face was whiter than usual with the moonlight gleaming down on him.

"Perhaps, Abigail, I should allow you to explain why my grandson has given you up as a Subjugate?"

******

Nate could hear his grandfather's voice from the large, echoing, ballroom.

There were only two words that concerned him thus far; Abigail and Speak. At first, Nate though he was mistaken, and maybe Lucifer had just become loony after the many centuries of his existance, but there was no mistaking his light, musical voice. A voice he had grown so accustomed to, it was like his own.

But the chances were impossible. Certainly, there was no way of describing how she could have gotten here. First, Jeffery had strict orders to never let the Subjugate leave without permission from their master - and in this case, Abigail didn't have his permission. Secondly, what were the chances of Abbi wanting to even step foot inside of this hostile estate?

He would have believed his self-motivated reasoning, if it weren't for the curiosity of returning to his grandfather's "Poker Hall". The voice was most likely a lost Subjugate, and his own stricken mind had conjured up the sound of the voice of the girl who had brought him here, tonight.

Nate was simply going back to see who his grandfather was talking to; it wouldn't be a problem, would it? And if he was indeed speaking to Abigail, then Nate would just be sure to remove her from the situation. Like any other deranged and overprotective vampire.

So Nathaniel was now slowly making his way back toward the hallway in question.

Just outside of the loud poker room was a delectable scent. It hit Nate like a wrecking-ball. Frustration replaced his inquisitiveness.

How had he missed her?

And by how short a distance Nate had just walked, how had he missed her by that much?

It was at this time when his grandfather's scent struck Nathaniel's unprepared mind. The mild anger rushing his movements was halted as a splash of realization finally woke Nate from this paradox.