Sex and the Single Vampire

And they had breached my defenses.

Chapter Twelve

You will cease struggling against us.

I tried to take a deep breath, but the protective crouch I'd assumed as the triumvirate's joined mind slammed into mine made it impossible to breathe deeply.

You will recognize that we are stronger.

I took lots of tiny little breaths instead, and struggled to focus my attention on something trivial and innocent, something that couldn't be used against me or be corrupted by the power flooding into my mind.

You will tell us what you have done with the ghosts you have in your possession.

The bits of broken bud vase erupted into powder.

I forced my attention to my shoes. The toes were scuffed. I wondered how it was possible to scuff the top of the toes when it was the soles that made contact with the floor.

A small muted green pillow on the love seat beneath the etched black picture exploded in a flurry of foam bits.

The triumvirate's power was increasing, small tendrils of it leaking out into the office.

You will tell us with whom you were speaking.

I pushed the bits of foam away from my feet. It wasn't as if I had made a habit of scraping the upper part of my shoes against things. Yet it was the tops of my shoes that were scuffed.

Allegra Telford.

There was power in a name. Pain shuddered through me as I fought to resist their unspoken command and tucked my head between my knees, praying help would arrive soon. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out against the triumvirate's strength.

Books began flying from a glass-fronted bookcase. Straight through the glass.

Help will not arrive to save you. You must yield to us. You cannot do anything but yield.

My inner voice screamed in agony at the sheer volume of power that was being thrown at me. It was like standing directly in front of a jet engine's fan, shards of power piercing me and weakening both my mind and body. Shoes, I desperately told my screaming self. Shoes were what was important. What did they call the little plastic tips on the ends of shoelaces?

Books struck my body. The triumvirate was directing the power leaks, forcing them into a pattern that would help them and weaken me further. I couldn't believe anyone had enough control that they could direct the leaks, and yet with every blow I had proof.

I started to wonder if I was going to make it.

It is no use. You are not strong enough. You are not good enough to resist us. Until you came to England you were a failure, unproven, tested and failed. Do not destroy yourself trying to prove you can best us. No one can. We are all powerfull.

For one moment I listened to the words shouted in my mind, and in that moment I found myself walking toward the threesome.

No! I screamed, grabbing the back of the chair to keep from moving closer to them, flinching every time a book slammed up against me. Another power leak had manifested itself as a whirlwind inside the office, bits of paper and foam from the cushion whirling around us, occasionally hitting me in the face. I clung to the chair and tried to lecture myself. If I gave myself up to them, if I answered their call when they summoned me, my wards would be dissolved and I would be at their mercy.

I am strong, I grimly told myself. I lived through hell in my life, and I've overcome it. I could last here a little bit longer, just until… I erased the image of Christian my mind had wanted to draw even before it formed. I wouldn't give him to them.

You will tell us who you believe will save you.

The little plastic shoelace thing has a name, I screamed to them. I know it has a name; I just can't remember what it is.

Two windows looking out onto the street below shattered, the faint tinkle of glass hitting the pavement sucked up by the howling of the wind within the room.

We have run out of patience. We will tolerate this no longer. You have brought this upon yourself, Allegra Telford, the forces of life shine strong within us.