Enslaved by the Others Read Online Free PDF Page A

assuming control of Clyde’s empire, Fabian’s first gift to his sire, Max, was—you guessed it—me.
    I missed Royce with a fierce, desperate ache. It might have taken a hell of a wake-up call for me to realize it, but even though he was a vampire, Royce was no monster. I’d heard those words, even said and thought them before, but it wasn’t until I saw what depths of corruption and betrayal Max and Fabian were capable of that I truly believed it. Compared to those two, Royce was a saint—and despite all the reasons I may have given him to be furious with me, he had remained patient and understanding in the face of my doubts.
    It had taken me a hell of a long time to face facts, but being a vampire wasn’t what made someone villainous. Like humans, they could use their power and influence for good, evil, and everything in between. It was too bad this hadn’t sunk in until I was in a situation where the knowledge didn’t do me any good, and I had no way of telling Royce how sorry I was for ever thinking he was capable of the same evils as Max Carlyle.
    Max’s men must have left me alone for a long time. I hadn’t even noticed when I dropped off. The sound of a key rattling in the door startled me awake, a brief fright at not remembering where I was morphing into full-fledged panic as the memories of Max and my predicament came back to me. Jerking up to my feet and rubbing the sleep and dried remnants of tears out of my eyes, I stumbled back to the far corner of the room as the door opened.
    This time two unfamiliar men entered, and neither looked friendly. One had a patch covering an eye bisected by a scar that ran from his eyebrow to his jawbone. The other was built like a truck and had the look of one who would joyfully kick puppies and other small, helpless animals. The way he was eyeing me made me wonder if he slotted me into that category.
    “C’mere,” said the one with the scar, beckoning for me to come to him while the other picked up the tray.
    “No.”
    “Master says you been bit. Take yer damn vitamins, girl, and let’s go.”
    The other guy extended his thick palm, now holding the pills from the tray. I didn’t want to take them, but thoughts of Max’s potential retribution if I should disobey his henchmen had me inching closer to take them. They watched impassively while I dry-swallowed the pills, grimacing at the bitter taste. Once I’d done as ordered, the big guy went off toward the stairs with the tray while the one with the scar led me down the hall to an unlocked door. He followed me inside, standing at the door with his arms folded while I took in the strange scene before me.
    There were men and women being herded through an assembly-line process. First they were given some kind of wax treatment or had their eyebrows shaped. Then they entered a shower stall—open to the rest of the room, hoo boy—and washed up. Next they were toweled off and settled in front of a hairdresser. As their hair was trimmed, someone else gave them some kind of skin treatment; various oils or creams were rubbed onto any body part that didn’t pass inspection. That was followed by a manicure, pedicure, and some attention from a young girl wielding a tackle box full of cosmetics.
    It was like the world’s creepiest spa. What the hell was this operation?
    Once they were done, they were led out a door on the other side of the room by a guy in a suit, much like the one shoving me in the direction of the shower.
    “Stop staring and get on with it. Haven’t got all day.”
    The demand was clear—but there was no way I was getting naked in a room full of strangers. I edged away from him, shaking my head. He muttered under his breath and then reached out to grab my arm again.
    I reacted without thought. As he tugged me forward, I used the momentum to slam my heel into his instep, followed by smashing my elbow into his face. As blood spurted from his nose he cursed and let me go. As he doubled over, I took the