The first thing Carmine notices is the sharp stench of new leather. When her eyelids flutter open, she realizes she's pressed face first into the backseat of a car. Her mouth is covered in several layers of duct tape that reaches all the way to the fine hairs on the back of her neck. As she twists her head, the tape pulls out some of her hair, causing her to wince slightly.

Her arms are crossed behind her back and secured with plastic cable ties. Not an inch of wiggle room to work with. In fact, the straps are digging into her wrists, bruising them and hurting her each time she clenches and unclenches her sweaty hands. Her ankles are strapped together as well and handcuffed to a some sort of rectangular weight.

Carmine can feel her fingers and toes losing blood circulation. Droplets of sweat start to pool along her hairline. Blinking rapidly, she notices that the car is parked in a dark corner in front of a run down motel. The neon Vacancy light flickers on and off, as if straight out of a horror movie. Strong gusts of wind blow the trees from side to side, their twisted branches drooping.

Shit. How could she have been so careless and naive?

This is quickly turning into the biggest mistake she's ever made in her life. Can she redeem herself? If so, how?

Carmine is still shaky and weak. Whatever drug or drugs that man added to her martini must have been powerful. She can barely even keep her mind focused on escape. All she wants to do is drift off to sleep again.

But no.

If she does, it's hard to say if she will ever wake up again. And even if she does, who knows what state her body will be in by then?

Carmine shudders at the thought of being violated by that arrogant prick. A shiver runs down her spine. She puffs out her chest and tries to scream but all that comes out of her mouth is a suffocated HMMPH!. The tape is sticky against her lips and incredibly dense. Impossible to chew through in her condition. Difficult even in her regular state.

As for the cable ties...she can undo them if she has a thin, pointy tool - a safety pin or a needle of some sort will loosen the ratchet mechanism - a lesson she learned on T.V. as a child.

Too bad there's no way she can find something like that in such an immaculate, freshly cleaned car.

Throwing her entire body weight towards her right hand side, Carmine manages to roll off the backseat and successfully wedge her body underneath the upholstery. Now there is an even lesser chance someone might see her.

Good job, Carmine. Now you're screwed for sure.

Before Carmine can even catch her breath from the small tumble, the side door clicks open. From her awkward angle, Carmine catches a glimpse of her kidnapper. His face is hidden in the shadows but it's definitely Chris from the bar. Of course it is. Him and his striped polo and board shorts.

Before seeing him again, a part of Carmine wanted to believe that such a cute and charming playboy couldn't possibly be responsible for something so vile as drugging and kidnapping her. And probably raping her. Then again, he probably didn't think a charming woman such as herself was intent on tranquilizing him and drinking his blood.

So, touché.

But Carmine hates to be the one on the losing end of the bargain. She helplessly whimpers as she looks up at Chris, her eyes stinging with rage.

Chris' sapphire blue eyes glisten in the dim light. "You're awake." He hoists Carmine up by lifting her shoulders. Then he drags her tied up body out of the car and throws her on to the bumpy asphalt. Chris slams the car door and locks it with a click of his remote. Then he lifts Carmine up, cradling her rigid body in his arms. He leans in close to her ear, breath reeking of alcohol. "Let's go have some fun."

Unlocking room number six, Chris fumbles along the side of the wall until he flicks on the light. Dropping the keys on the shaggy red carpet, he kicks the door closed behind him and then drops Carmine face first onto the bed.

Carmine starts flopping from side to side like a stranded dolphin, intent on making things as difficult as possible for her aggressor. She continues to groan and push air out through her mouth but the tape does not budge.

Chris takes off his shoes and sets them neatly by the door. Then he sits down beside Carmine's prostrate body and gingerly unhooks the delicate clasp of her stilettoes. He slowly slides each pointy shoe off her swollen feet and gives the pads of each foot a quick rub. Carmine instinctively flexes and relaxes her toes with each kneading motion.

What the hell is he doing?

After neatly lining up her shoes beside his, Chris reaches into his shorts pocket and takes out a fistful of cable ties. This time, jumbo sized ones.

He pulls Carmine by the arms until her head is almost pressed up against the metal bedframe. Then he threads a fresh zip strap through the ones that were already binding her hands and loops it around one of the metal posts in the headboard. Tugging it tight, he then starts digging in his other pocket until he pulls out a fresh bulb of garlic, a small bottle of clear liquid and a rosary with a silver colored cross attached to the end.

Carmine's eyes bulge wide at the sight of the objects clutched tightly in his hand. She tries to keep her head arched but quickly gets tired and lets her face fall back against the comforter.

Oh hell no.

Chris turns to Carmine and starts giggling. "Am I doing this right?" He places the small glass bottle and the rosary on the bedside table, keeping the garlic in his left hand.

Carmine shakes her head furiously from side to side, letting out a string of muffled profanities that Chris has no way of understanding.

Chris starts peeling the papery outer layer of the garlic clove. Then, with a few shiny bulbs unsheathed, he bites into them, letting the pungent juices run across his tongue. Then he scoops them out of his mouth and rubs the mashed up garlic all over his face, under his armpits and up and down his hairy legs. "Safety first," he winks.

Carmine arches her eyebrows, slightly amused by the man's performance. Does he think that will do anything? It's weak at best against a full vampire but I'm not even a full one. I love garlic. She scrunches her nose, feigning disgust. She just has to wait. This guy has no clue what he's doing and sooner rather than later he will mess up.

Then he'll be in for some real fun.

After coating most of his body in the garlic's sticky sap, he swallows what's left of the clove.

That's going to make his breath just peachy for the next couple of days. Carmine continues her scowling. She eyes the rosary and the bottle (which most likely contains holy water) from the corner of her eye. Those two things are what could really hurt her. She needs to destroy them before he can use them on her.

After "protecting himself", Chris starts to wiggle off his shorts. He pulls his polo off soon after, revealing his muscular upper body and well defined abs. "I thought it was just a scam. You know, to get people to come to this town in the middle of nowhere and boost its economy. But judging by the frightened look you gave me when I took out my protective talismans...I no longer have my doubts. I caught me a right old vampire."

Revealing a set of straight white teeth, Chris continues, "My buddy and I thought it'd be fun to stop by a vampire bar on our road trip but we didn't think we'd actually catch one." He traces his finger along Carmine's quivering cheek. "A sexy one at that."

Chris checks his watch and eyes the door. "Where the hell is that little shit?" Then, too impatient to wait for his friend, he pounces on top of Carmine, making the bed shake. "Let's just get a head start shall we?"

Carmine wants nothing more than to drain every ounce of blood from this sick tourist. But the drugs are keeping her practically paralyzed and on top of that, she is at her weakest right now - her vampire side needs fresh blood before she can attack with any measure of force. And if what he says is true and his friend will be joining him shortly...she's in even bigger trouble.

Chris slams his full weight onto Carmine's back, burying his face into her black hair. He slowly tugs down the side zipper of Carmine's dress until he reveals a patch of creamy white skin. Pressing the tip of his nose against her sensitive skin, he takes in a deep whiff.

Carmine can feel his hot, moist breath creeping along her side. She turns her head, scrunching up her face in disgust.

Chris lifts his head up and flashes Carmine a sinister smile. Then he lifts up the bottom of her dress and slowly eases it up past her hips until it's scrunched up around her neck.

Utterly helpless, Carmine wiggles her butt back and forth, praying he will be stupid enough to cut her ankles loose. As soon as he does-

Chris trails his sticky garlic finger down Carmine's back until it hooks onto the clasp of her bra. With one swift, practiced movement, he unhooks it, letting the band hang loose. He starts placing slow kisses alone Carmine's spine until he reaches the lacy edge of her panties.

"Oops. Can't get between these pretty legs if they're tied up now can I?" Chris pulls out a Swiss army knife from his back pocket and unfolds the pair of tiny scissors inside. "Now behave," he says, bringing the scissors to the plastic ties. "Any sudden movements and I'll have that holy water splashed all over your pretty little body." With these words, he reaches for the tiny bottle and pops the cork off. Crap, Carmine grits her teeth, breathing hard. This is her only chance. But if he spills that on her, there's a very high chance she will die. Or at least be very badly burned. I can't just let him get away with this. I need to try.

With his left hand shakily clutching the vial, Chris cuts the zip tie loose with the army knife in his right hand.

Continue to Part Two...

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