"By God, I am going to-"

"Quit blathering. Didn't you want to call your mum? Come with me. My cell phone's in the back."

Mentally I performed all sorts of tortuous acts on his bound and helpless body, but in reality I bit my tongue and followed him deeper into the cave.

Chapter Four

H ARD TRAINING. THOSE WERE THE WORDS HE used to describe the brutal, agonizing, death-defying ordeals even the military wouldn't inflict on their most hardened troops.

Bones ran me through the forest at speeds cars couldn't sustain. I stumbled over fallen trees, rocks, roots, and natural potholes until I was too exhausted to even vomit. Passing out didn't excuse me from my tasks, either. He'd simply keep dousing icy water on my face until I came to again. I practiced throwing knives until my knuckles cracked and bled. His response? To uncaringly toss me some Neosporin and tell me not to get it on my palms or it would ruin my grip. His version of weight lifting? Hefting stone boulders repeatedly, gradually increasing their size and density. StairMaster? That would be climbing up the cave inclines with large rocks strapped to my back.

After one week, I threw off all of his artificial impediments and refused to go farther, stating had I known his intentions beforehand I would have gladly chosen death. Bones just smiled at me with his fangs extended and told me to prove it. Seeing that he was serious, I reapplied my outfittings and trudged wearily onward.

By far, though, the most grueling activity was up close with him. He stretched my limbs until tears poured down my face, chiding me all the while for my lack of flexibility. Then, during our hand-to-hand combat, he'd knock me into a state of unconsciousness that all the icy water in the world couldn't revive. I would wake up with the taste of his blood in my mouth, just to repeat the procedure all over again. To say I fantasized about killing him every second of every day was an understatement. Yet I got better, I had no choice. With Bones, it was either improve or die.

My first indication of increased stamina came after my second week of training. Bones and I fought and I actually didn't pass out. He still beat me soundly, but I remained conscious throughout. It was a mixed blessing. I had my dignity from not going night-night in the middle of our battle, but then was awake when he fed me his blood.

"Disgusting," I spat after being cajoled and then threatened into putting his bloody finger in my mouth. "How can you things live off that?"

The words left my lips without forethought, as had many before them.

"Necessity is the mother of all appetites. What you need in order to survive, you learn to love," he replied shortly.

"All this blood better not turn me into a vampire. That was not our deal."

I felt uncomfortable arguing with his finger jammed in my mouth, and I moved my head backward until it slid wetly out. It was almost a sexual gesture. I blushed as soon as the thought flitted through my mind. He caught the flush, of course. No doubt the reason behind it as well, but just wiped his hand on his shirt.

"Trust me, luv, you aren't having nearly enough blood to turn you into a vampire. Since you fret about it all the time, however, I'll tell you how it works. First, I'd have to drain you to the very point of death. There's a trick to that, taking enough blood without taking too much. Then, stuffed full of your blood, I'd open my artery for you and let you drink it right back out of me. All of it, and then some. There's a trick to that, too. You have to be strong to make other vampires, or your would-be protegee sucks you dry and kills you while he or she is changing. New vampires are harder to get off an artery than a starving babe off a juicy teat. These measly drops of blood I'm feeding you aren't doing more than healing your injuries. They're probably not even enough to enhance your strength. Now, will you stop griping every time you have to lick a few bits off my pieces?"

That really caused me to color at the visual that skipped across my subconscious. Seeing it, he ran an aggravated hand through his hair.

"Now, that's another thing you have to stop doing. You turn red as a sunset at the slightest hint of innuendo. You need to be playing the part of an aggressive, horny woman! No bloke's going to believe that when he says boo and you faint from embarrassment. Your virginity's going to get you killed."

"I'm not a virgin," I countered, and then nearly did faint as predicted.

His dark brows went up. I turned away, sputtering, "Can we change the subject, please? We're not girlfriends at a slumber party. I don't want to be discussing this with you."

"Well, well, well," he drawled, ignoring my plea. "Kitten's catted around, has she? The way you act, I'm surprised. Chap waiting patiently for you to finish your training? Must be quite a lad, to get you all hot and bothered. Again, didn't peg you for the experienced type, but then again, you did offer me a taste when we first met. Makes me wonder now if you planned on staking me before or after you got your itch scratched. What about the other vampires? Did they die with a smile on their-"

I slapped him. Or tried to. He caught my wrist and held it, and caught the other one when I whipped my left palm toward his cheek.

"Don't you dare talk to me that way, I've heard enough of that crap growing up. Just because my mother had me out of wedlock, our stupid old-fashioned neighbors thought that made her a slut, and me, too, by default. And not that it's any of your business, since you've probably raped villages full of women, but I've only been with one person. He dropped me like a bad habit right afterwards, so that was enough to cure me of any desire I had to duplicate the sexual escapades of my peers. Now, I mean it, I don't want to talk about this again!"

I was panting in pent-up fury over the wound he'd unknowingly ripped open. Bones released my wrists, and I rubbed them where his fingers had dug into my skin.

"Kitten," he began in a conciliatory tone, "I apologize. But just because your ignorant neighbors took their prejudice out on you, or some pimply-faced teenager pulled a one-nighter-"

"Stop it," I interrupted, terrified I was going to cry. "Just stop it. I can do the job, I can fake sexy, whatever. But we are not discussing this."

"Look, luv-" he tried again.

"Bite me," I snapped, and walked off.

For once, he didn't offer to take me up on the invitation, and he didn't follow me.

At the start of the fourth week, Bones announced we were taking a field trip. Of course, it wasn't an afternoon jaunt to the local museum. No, he had me driving along a narrow road at midnight with no idea where we were headed. He'd given me the barest direction-turn here, turn there, etc.-and I was nervous. We were in a very rural area, no streetlights along the road. If you wanted to suck someone's neck dry and then dump the body, this would be an ideal place.