Monochrome Interview Read online

  A sudden chill crept up her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. When she glanced over her shoulder, she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Looking ahead, no one was there, either. She dismissed her unease but picked up the pace.

  Turning the corner, someone grasped her arm and clasped their hand over her mouth. Her scream was muffled by the stranger’s palm while he roughly pushed her against the brick wall. The back of her skull started to hurt from the impact and her vision dotted black in places. For a second, she thought the man’s eyes were glowing, which she knew had to be the trick of the light.

  She attempted twisting out of his steel grip and couldn’t. Before she knew what was happening, he bit her neck.

  An agonised scream escaped her only to be trapped behind the prison of his podgy fingers. She kicked his shins a couple of times. He didn’t seem to care and continued to sink his teeth deeper into her flesh.

  Tears streaked her cheeks. She desperately fought the heavy body pressed against hers. The seconds ticked by and all she could do was pray that this man along with the pain would disappear. As if God decided to answer her cries for help, the bastard was propelled to the other side of the street.

  The stranger’s back hit the wall with an audible thud, and he hissed at the man standing next to her. She slid to the ground, cupping her throbbing neck. Her eyes never left Alexander’s strong back.

  He advanced towards her attacker. Seemingly with little effort, Alexander lifted him and his hand disappeared into the guy’s chest. Then, it reappeared holding what appeared to be a human heart dripping with fresh blood.

  Her mind went blank and a scream died in her throat the second Alexander turned his head to look at her. It wasn’t a trick of the light. His eyes were definitely glowing with silver light. She scrambled to her feet and fell back down. Her legs couldn’t support her weight and one of her heels had snapped sometime during the catastrophic events.

  The assailant’s body melted or shrunk, she wasn’t sure.

  I’m drunk. I must be freaking drunk!

  The attacker’s skin sunk and tightened around his skull. His eyeballs became huge a moment before drying out in their sockets. His hair whitened and his clothes folded in on themselves.

  Her beers started climbing back up her throat. She bent over, retching onto the footpath.

  Alexander brushed her hair aside for her with his clean hand. “Are you hurt?”

  She wasn’t sure what to say at first. He had killed someone, and she was a witness. Abigail wiped at her mouth and pressed her back against the wall, creating as much distance as she could between them.

  When he brushed her hair away from her neck, she whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “I will not harm you, Abigail, that much I can promise you,” he whispered.

  She dared to steal a peek. He knelt by her side. That unnatural light in his eyes had completely vanished. He appeared to be like any other concerned member of society, except he had just taken someone’s heart out with his bare hand.

  She swallowed hard. “Is—Is he dead?”

  Alexander seemed to think about her words for a moment. “For quite some time, yes.” He offered her his hand.

  Abigail studied it. Her gaze flicked to his other hand that he was hiding behind his back. “You killed a man…”

  “He wasn’t a man.” He took her hand, lifting her into a standing position with him.

  She swayed on the spot, unable to find her centre of gravity. Alexander’s arms wound around her waist, steadying her and making her look up at his handsome face.

  “This is a dream, right?” she asked. “I got drunk and fell asleep somewhere or something.”

  “I told you, you can’t handle the truth.” He bit into his thumb. Blood oozed to the surface, and he reached for her neck.

  She tried to get out of his hold, but his arm tightened, trapping her in place. “Hold still or I won’t be able to heal you.”

  “Heal me? With your blood? Are you insane? You probably have an STD or two from sleeping around so much.”

  Alexander’s eyes flashed with anger. His thumb pressed roughly against the raw flesh of her neck as he massaged his blood into her wound.

  When he finished doing his disgusting “healing” procedure, she slapped him across the face with what little energy she had left. Her palm pulsated from the force she administered. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to react at all.

  “Bastard!”

  “I understand you are stressed. Let me bring you home. I have to make certain no one finds out about this ordeal.” He pulled out a phone and barked a few orders in Russian down the line.

  Abigail edged closer to the roadside once his back was turned. She slipped her shoes off and started to sprint. Before she could reach the road, she felt his arms wrapping around her waist again. Her bare feet dangled in the air, and he tutted next to her ear.

  “I did say I would bring you home.” He set her down and offered her his arm. “Please allow me to do so.”

  Full of scepticism, she laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding… This is crazy. You’re crazy, and I just want to go home. Alone.”

  “Are you sure you wish to be by yourself right now?”

  She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. He was right. By the way her legs were quivering and the blood she had lost, she wouldn’t make it very far. Maybe she could call for an ambulance. She discarded that idea. He wouldn’t let her do something like that. Seeing no other way, she looped her arm through his and let him do whatever he wanted.

  They walked in silence. She tried to avoid the tiny stones on the pavement. Her feet hurt from both the cold and the rough ground she walked on.

  “Would you prefer it if I carried you?” he offered.

  She shot him a glare. “I can walk perfectly fine! I’m more concerned about you acting so relaxed after murdering a man.”

  “He was not a good man.”

  She laughed. “And you are?”

  “No. I wouldn’t say that I am.” For the first time, she sensed honesty in his reply.

  Abigail stopped walking a few metres away from her apartment building. Her action caused him to come to a halt, too. He said nothing and waited for her to do or say something. The fact that he wasn’t hurling insults or smart remarks her way confused her.

  Is this the same man I’ve seen shacking up with those models three hours ago?

  “I hope you know that I’m going to report this.”

  He smirked. “Is there a way I can dissuade you from doing something so unnecessary?”

  “Unnecessary?” She scoffed. “It’s a crime scene. My DNA and whatever else is all over that place. If the Gards find the—”

  “There will be nothing left to find in an hour. Relax, get some sleep, and enjoy your weekend, Abby.” He inclined his head and started sauntering away from her.

  “Alexander!”

  He paused and glanced over his shoulder.

  “I need some answers.” Drunk or not, there had to be some logical explanation behind all of this. “Please,” she added for good measure.

  Alexander returned to her side with a cheeky smirk. “Everything comes at a price, young lady. What are you willing to give up for the answers you seek?”

  CHAPTER 6

  ALEXANDER

  Alexander enjoyed seeing her eyes flare with outrage. Contrary to the outcome he had predicted, she simmered down at once and smiled.

  “And what would the payment be?” Abigail asked sweetly.

  He studied her for a long moment. His smirk had faded. He couldn’t figure her out. From what he overheard at the bar, she hated him. He had done nothing to deserve such an unjust judgement of his personality. Yet, the attraction between them was undeniable. Even now, bloody and exhausted as she looked, he wanted to strip the layers of her clothing away and show her a night she could only dream of.

  “Alexander?”

  He gave her a ravishing smile. “A cup o
f coffee and an open mind will do.”

  “Alright. You can stay for coffee.”

  He followed her into her apartment, keeping his hands to himself. He was certain that she did not wish for more support from him. After all, she didn’t appear as fragile as the women he spent his nights with.

  She draped her leather jacket over a barstool and put the kettle on while he assessed her place. Since the last time he was here, the living area was neat. Pleased, he shrugged out of his coat and took a seat on the sofa. His eyes kept being drawn to the kitchen where she stood. Her hips swayed to a silent tune in her mind, and he swallowed. He shouldn’t have scolded her the last time he was here. Her baggy clothes kept her hourglass figure hidden from him that time. With her form wrapped in skinny jeans and a tight shirt, he struggled to keep from running his hands all over her.

  She set a steaming mug on the coffee table in front of him and folded her legs under her as she lowered herself into a seat next to him.

  The invigorating scent of vanilla wafted over, making him groan. He cursed his sensitive senses in his mind. “You may want to wash the blood off first.”

  Her hand moved to her neck. “Oh gosh, you’re right. I completely forgot.”

  “How can you forget you were bitten?”

  “I’m sorry. I was too busy thinking of the questions to ask you.” With a pout, she ran into her bedroom. He heard the tap running in the bathroom. After a few minutes, she re-emerged with wet hair and droplets seeping into the material of her cream shirt.

  He spared a quick glance at her neck. The wound had healed well.

  “Shouldn’t you wash that hand of yours?” she asked.

  “Ah, I guess you’re not the only one who is forgetful tonight.” Alexander washed his hands in the kitchen sink. He returned to his seat and took a sip of his coffee. It was poorly made. He couldn’t blame her. It appeared she spent most of her time outside the apartment. Based on his observation, she didn’t cook either. He had noticed a bunch of ready-made sandwich packages discarded in her bin.

  “Did you really kill him?” she asked, her voice dipping on the word ‘kill’ as if it was a secret.

  “Of course. Otherwise, he could have tracked you down for revenge.”

  With quivering hands, she set her mug down. “You realise you’ve killed someone tonight. You’re a—”

  “Murderer, killer, a terrible man? Yes, I have heard all of those terms before.” He turned in his seat and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. “And what exactly are you going to do about this journalistic scoop?”

  Their eyes met. Whatever went on inside her head, he couldn’t guess. Most women would scream, cry, or call the police. She was doing none of that.

  Is she in denial?

  “I can’t tattle on the guy who saved me from… What was he? No, wait.” Abigail rubbed her palms over her thighs, back and forth. “Who are you really?”

  “I don’t make a habit of answering dumb questions as you already know from our rather unpleasant interview.”

  “Then what are you?”

  He inclined his head in approval. “Better, but I still do not wish to answer.”

  “You said you would if I made you coffee.”

  Alexander laughed. “Young lady, you never cease to amuse me.”

  “If I go by the legal info on you, Alexander, you’re two years younger than me. At twenty-two, how is it you’re able to fare so well in the business world? Where is your family? There are no photos of them. Even your father’s, grandfather’s, and great grandfather’s names remained the same. Is that some kind of weird tradition? And, why do you have the strength to rip a person’s heart out with just your hand?”

  His lips upturned. She had spent a lot of time looking into him which meant her interest in him certainly had not died as she wanted him to believe. It would be problematic if he couldn’t influence her to forget the attack. As much as he wanted to keep playing with her, he had to return to the club. He scooted closer to her, trapping her between the armrest and his body.

  Carefully, he brushed his chilled fingers along her neck. Her pulse quickened, and he smiled. Whether it was her nerves or simple interest, he liked having an effect on her.

  His irises ignited with their silver glow, and he focused on her dilated pupils. “Abigail…”

  Her eyes widened, but she appeared unaffected by his influence.

  He let his energy wash over her. As he did so, her breathing grew laboured.

  “Why is it becoming harder to breathe?” she whispered.

  He withdrew, retracting his energy back into his mental shields. There was no way to influence her for some reason. “Are you a witch? A hunter?”

  The blanket of confusion on her face couldn’t be an act. She didn’t know what those terms were. At least, not in the way he was acquainted with them.

  Abigail trailed her index finger along his jawline. When he didn’t push her away, her palm cupped his cheek, and she studied the mesmerising glow in his eyes. “How do you do that?”

  “You are the second woman in over two centuries who hasn’t fallen under my influence. It is…disturbing,” he replied, never breaking eye-contact.

  “And you’re a man whom I want to hate with all my heart but can’t seem to do it.”

  Alexander rose and grabbed his coat. “It is best for me to leave. You must be tired.” Without looking at her rising from her seat, he shrugged his coat on. “Can I trust you not to publicise tonight’s events?”

  “And do what? Implicate myself as an accessory to murder?” She laughed. “I never thought I’d say that and mean it…”

  Alexander started for the door when she caught his arm, stilling him on the spot as if silver chains bound him. He had to leave before he did something they both regretted. He did not fornicate with redheads. They are a curse. They are…

  “Please tell me. What are you?”

  Her voice cut through his dead heart. Every woman he truly desired always ended up dead. He couldn’t inflict such a destiny on this girl. Giving her a sideways glance, he knew he was deluding himself. The only way for this farce to end was to let her see the truth. She would, like many others, run from his side and never return.

  “Alexander?”

  He smiled but his eyes grew cold with lack of emotion, which he buried in the darkest corners of his heart. “I am dead, young lady. I have been dead long enough to be your great-grandfather.” His eyes flared with his forced rage. “It would be best if you keep away from me.”

  Abigail grasped him by the coat and pulled him in until their noses almost touched. The pyre in her amber eyes made him question her sanity. Surely, she had heard his warning. “No man will ever tell me what to do! Do you hear me?”

  “You are ruining my clothes.”

  She let go and pointed at her front door. “Leave. I invited you to get some answers, but you come in here, lying to me about your age, your life. Why can’t you just be honest for a moment and say what’s really on your mind? Why does everything to do with you need to have a cryptic filter?”

  He pressed closer to her. His hands snaked around her waist to keep her in place. “You wish to know what’s on my mind?”

  Abigail didn’t back down. She was either brave or stupid. “It will be the first honest thing you’ve said all night. So, yes. I do want to know.”

  He kissed her. His arms wound around her until he crushed her against his chest. The scent of her vanilla shampoo enveloped him, and she returned his kiss with an equal passion. Before he knew it, his coat was already on the floor, and he had backed her up against the nearest wall.

  Abigail’s spread fingers roamed his back, and he lowered his face to her neck. He licked the place where her wound was, making her quiver like a leaf with pleasure.

  God, I want to taste her. His fangs elongated and he bit down, letting go of his restraint.

  She gasped for air while her body melded into his. As he held her in his arms and drank from her, he closed his
eyes. She tasted clean and sweet like a ripe cherry.

  Her legs gave in, and he stopped. He had dismissed the fact she had been bitten and lost a lot of blood earlier. Panic broke through his lust. He lifted her unconscious form and strode to her bedroom where he laid her on top of the bedsheets.

  The paleness of her skin, along with the weak fluttering of her heart, unsettled him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and bit into his wrist. Prying her lips open and angling her head upwards, he let his blood flow into her mouth. Once he finished, he treated his bite on her neck.

  In the light of a low wattage bulb, her colour started returning to her marble complexion. He sighed in relief. Since Katharine, this was the first time he’d lost control with a woman. Such loose behaviour didn’t suit him. Alexander was accustomed to calculating and controlling those around him.

  Could this girl be getting under my skin?

  He tucked her in and checked the bite on her neck one last time. When it healed, he wiped the residual traces of blood from her skin. If she did remember what happened tonight, he would pretend otherwise. It was too dangerous to involve a human in his world.

  Alexander cleaned the apartment of any trace of his presence. This girl would eventually come after him. Until then, he had to place doubts in her mind. Humans were eager to cling to any possible explanation other than the supernatural. He would continue to keep an eye on her from afar. If any other vampire drinks from her, she could die, and Jennifer would wear his balls as a collar.

  CHAPTER 7

  ABIGAIL

  The bathroom mirror had to be lying. Abigail stared at it for nearly an hour, trying to find the spot where she was sure Alexander had bitten her. Frustrated, she splashed her face with cold water. There had to be a logical explanation for all this. He couldn’t be some monster, right? He was a businessman with strange fetishes, a womaniser, and had no photos taken of him in the Age of Information…

  Scratching her head, she emerged from the bathroom and looked at the clothes she wore last night. There was a dark stain on her shirt. So, she did end up bleeding. Alexander even healed her the first time after she was attacked. Oh, and the kiss we shared… She shook her head. It never happened. It couldn’t have. Just because he was hot, it didn’t give him permission to go around kissing every woman he came across. Not only that, he had no right to start making out with her, even if his kiss made her insides tingle and her body burn.