The much anticipated next Night 14 page vehicle right at the guardrail before he
bailed out the door.
Gretchen’s scream as we hurtled over
the cliff was the last thing I heard before
everything went black.
Blood.
Its taste flavored my mouth while its
coppery scent hung in the air. I
swallowed, expecting the pain radiating
through me to vanish, yet it didn’t. That’s
when I realized I wasn’t swallowing
vampire blood for healing. It was my own.
I forced my eyes open even though it
felt like razors had replaced my eyelids.
Then what I saw made me forget the pain.
Gretchen hung above me, her black hair
hiding her face, red drips falling onto the
smashed glass that surrounded me. Sandra
was also suspended by her seat belt, her
blood flowing in a thicker trail. Between
us was a thick tree branch, of all things, its
leaves spattered with crimson.
Why aren’t we dead? was my first
thought, followed immediately by Where’s
Shrapnel? I sat up, trying not to scream
from the pain. A glance at the front of the
limo showed the driver’s side was empty.
The passenger side wasn’t. Oscar’s pale
face had an expression of shock that even
his rapidly mummifying skin couldn’t
erase. He was also suspended upside
down by his seat belt in the flipped limo,
the hilt of a silver knife buried in his
chest.
I lurched toward that knife, sending
more fiery arcs through my body. It felt
like my ribs, collarbone, and left arm
were fractured, plus I had more cuts than I
could count from all the broken glass.
Still, I was lucky. Without the side and
front air bags, I’d be dead. I hadn’t been
wearing a seat belt since I wanted to grab
Sandra in case she tried anything. Little
did I know the danger came from the front
seat, not the back.
Grunts of agony escaped me as I hoisted
myself over the broken glass into the front
of the limo. Once there, I saw through the
smashed windshield that a tree had
stopped our descent down the cliff. That
was the good news. The bad news was the
orange flickers licking up the underside of
the hood.
I yanked the knife from Oscar’s body,
intending to cut the seat belts from
Gretchen and Sandra, when noise outside
made me freeze. Someone was coming,
and I wasn’t naive enough to think it was
rescuers.
I licked the blood-coated knife so fast
that I cut my tongue, but before that pain
fully registered, it vanished. In the
seconds it took me to lick the other side,
my whole body hurt less. By the time
Shrapnel ripped off the passenger side
door, I was crouched in front of Gretchen
and Sandra, holding the knife in one hand
while electricity crackled from the other.
He immediately leapt back several feet,
body tensed to dodge anything I aimed at
him.
“Why?” I spat.
Half of his shirt and jacket hung in
tatters, the red-stained slash showing
where my whip had penetrated. Despite
the severity of the wound, it hadn’t killed
him. It had only slowed him until he
healed enough to come back and finish the
job.
“Because now you know,” he said in a
hard voice.
“I don’t mean this,” I said, a jerk of my
head indicating the ruined limousine.
“Why did you betray Vlad?”
“I didn’t intend to.”
Now his voice was almost a whisper.
Despair skipped across his mocha
features, followed by weary resolve.
“None of this was supposed to happen.
You think I wanted to kill my friends in
that car? I don’t even want to kill you, but
I have no choice.”
I raised my right hand higher. “You so
much as twitch and I’ll cut you in half for
real this time.”
He was too far away for me to attempt
it now, but if he came closer, he’d be in
range. I didn’t dare risk charging him due
to the steep incline, plus that would leave
Gretchen and Sandra helpless. Instead, I
waited for him to lunge at me with his
inhuman speed, but as the seconds ticked
by and Shrapnel didn’t move, I grew
suspicious. Sure, he knew I wasn’t
bluffing, but it wouldn’t take long for
word of the crash to reach Vlad. He had to
know that, so why wasn’t he at least
attempting to—
Then the wind blew a noxious fume my
way. Once I smelled it, I understood.
Shrapnel didn’t have to move to kill me.
All he had to do was wait for the fire to
reach the leaking gas tank.
Chapter 34
“If you run now, you might make it before
Vlad gets here,” I said, switching tactics. I
couldn’t free Gretchen and Sandra and
fight off Shrapnel before the car blew. We
both knew that.
“It’s already too late. You didn’t die in
the crash and it took too long for me to
heal before I reached you.”
Again he sounded more weary than
villain-ish. He even sighed as though
burdened beyond what he could bear.
“Now all that’s left is to ensure your
death.”
“What did I ever do to you?” I snapped,
hoping someone from the mansion had
seen the smoke and help was on the way.
“It’s what you will do if you live.” His
gaze shifted to my right hand. “My death is
already certain. Hers is not.”
Her. I took a last stab at making him run
or charge me.
“You mean the pretty brunette
vampire?” I said, betting it all that it was
the same woman I’d glimpsed in my
vision. “Hate to break it to you, but she
was found out days ago. Vlad’s already
got people hunting her down. We just
didn’t know who the traitor was.”
“Lies,” Shrapnel hissed.
He took a step forward and I held my
breath. Come on, just a little closer!
“How’s this for lies? She’s five foot
four, curvier than me, thick walnutcolored
hair, lilting accent . . . want me to
go on?”
I couldn’t, but as the scent of gasoline
increased, so did my desperation. I
debated charging him despite the steep hill
and his incredible speed. Then he took
another step closer.
“How did you break her spell to reach
her?”
“Oh, it was easy,” I said, thinking it
was a damn good thing Shrapnel wasn’t a
mind reader because I had no idea what he
was talking about. “Where do you think I
got all this straight black hair from? I’m
one quarter Cherokee and my grandmother
was a powerful medicine woman. She
taught my mother and me all kinds of
mystical tricks, so your little bitch’s spell
was no match for the magic I know.”
Except for the one quarter Cherokee
part, the rest was all lies. I held my
breath, hoping that Shrapnel didn’t realize
that.
“Don’t speak of her that way!” he
roared.
He took another step forward and that
was my chance. I exploded toward him,
snapping all the electricity I could muster
into a whip that shone as bright as
lightning. He lunged to avoid it, but even
his speed wasn’t enough. That dazzling
cord caught him in the hip and continued
all the way through.
His legs dropped like felled tree limbs,
pitching the rest of him forward with his
momentum. He ended up landing on me,
his weight knocking the breath from me.
Before I could push him off, he began
pummeling me while his fangs tore at
anything close enough to bite.
I screamed at the brutal double assault.
Being almost cut in half hadn’t diminished
Shrapnel’s ferocity. Instead, he seemed
almost demonic in his determination to
kill me. A stunning blow caved in my rib
cage, cutting off my scream. The
savageness of the pain stole all thought,
triggering blind survival instinct. I didn’t
consciously grab him and send a current
into him. All I knew was that his weight
was suddenly gone and I was transported
into a decrepit alley.
The streetlights were broken, but I
didn’t need them to see as I strode down
the narrow path between the buildings.
“You killed the bomb maker, too?
When will you stop taking such reckless,
stupid risks!”
My bellow drew several glances. I
didn’t care. Most vampires avoided
places where the homeless dwelled. They
smelled too much to make eating them
palatable.
“It wasn’t too risky” was my lover’s
unruffled reply. “I took care of it, dearie.
He’s dead, ending any chance this will
be traced back to us.”
Fury made me grip the phone before I
forcibly relaxed my hand so it wouldn’t
shatter and end our call.
“If you hadn’t used him to kill Leila,
he wouldn’t have needed taking care of. I
wouldn’t have told you where she was if
I knew what you intended. If Vlad
doesn’t believe the explosion was an
accident, he won’t rest until he finds her
killers.”
“You’re overreacting,” she said, and
the boredom in her tone hit me like a
splash of acid. “Even if there are
suspicions, they won’t lead anywhere.
Whatever she might have been worth to
him alive, she’s less dangerous to us
dead.”
My laugh was harsh. “One day, you’ll
tell me the real reason you don’t want
Vlad to know about us. Until then, the
only motive I see for you killing Leila is
jealousy.”
I’d intended the accusation to sting,
but I hadn’t anticipated the venom in her
response.
“My reasons don’t matter. What does
matter is you are the one who gave me
her location. He’ll kill you for that,
dearie, and only after years of torturing
you. Unless that sounds appealing, you
have no choice but to keep this a secret.”
I hung up, my sense of despair equal
to the knowledge that she was right. Vlad
would respond only one way to my part
in Leila’s death, and he wouldn’t stop
there. He’d do the same to her, and
despite my anger, I couldn’t let that
happen. I loved her, and if lying would
keep her safe, then I would lie.
The alley dissolved and I expected to
fall back into my own reality, but without
even trying to, I linked to Shrapnel’s
accomplice next. For a split second, I saw
her, wearing a skirt suit and reclined on a
couch with a martini in her hand. Before I
could focus on her face, her features
blurred, leaving nothing but a blob
surrounded by lustrous walnut-colored
hair.
Then a wave of dizziness assailed me,
as if someone just whacked me over the
head with a two-by-four. I dropped the
link, returning to the present where I was
curled on my side, coughing between
tortured gasps for air. Blood dribbled
from my mouth and the pressure in my
chest increased until it was excruciating.
This wasn’t from the beating Shrapnel
had given me. No, I recognized this pain.
My abilities had hit the lethal zone, and
the only vampire near enough to heal me
wanted me dead.
Frustration made me want to howl at the
unfairness of it all. I was only supposed to
use my abilities on Sandra to see if she
was guilty or innocent. I hadn’t meant to
pull Shrapnel’s worst sin, let alone link to
the bitch who’d started this whole mess
with the carnival bomb. Now those things
would kill me.
A groan made me open my eyes.
Through a haze of red, I caught a glimpse
of Shrapnel. The current I’d blasted into
him had thrown him over a dozen feet
away. Both his arms were now missing in
addition to his legs, and his skin looked
like meat someone had put through a
grinder. Despite all the damage from the
current, he was still alive. Then his head
lolled toward me and our eyes met.
A sliver of surprise threaded through
my fading consciousness. I hadn’t
expected any empathy from him, but I was
unprepared for the mixture of relief and
pride in his expression. Relief made
sense; he wanted me dead, and from the
crushing pain in my chest, he’d soon get
his wish. But why pride? He had nothing
to do with my abilities overloading
enough to put the final nails in my
coffin . . .
Far too late, I figured it out.
How did you break her spell to reach
he r ? Shrapnel had asked. I thought he
meant the brunette vampire had cooked up
something magical to prevent me from
getting a clear look at her face if I linked
to her, but it was more than that.
The spell was also meant to kill me.
Chapter 35
“Leila!”
My sister’s voice cut through the agony
that made me want to stay in the fetal
position or die, whichever hurt less.
Gretchen. Sounds afraid penetrated past
my pain, followed by an ominous memory.
The limo’s on fire.
I pushed myself to my knees, a gurgling
scream escaping me. Through vision that
was starting to blacken, I caught a gleam
of orange. The flames had spread farther
up the vehicle. They could reach the
leaking gas tank any second.
I lunged at the limo, blood spewing
from my mouth as I tried to breathe
through the almost paralyzing pressure in
my chest. My vision was too blurry to find
the knife I’d dropped, and the pain made
me feel like I was on fire. Maybe I was
and didn’t realize it. Still, I couldn’t stop.
I focused on my sister’s screams and they
were like a shot of adrenaline, giving me
the strength to lunge forward again, and
again. The side of the car hit me in the
face as I staggered into it.
My vision was now totally black and
Gretchen’s voice was fainter, but my mind
still worked. With my left hand, I fumbled
until I found the lock for the seat belt.
Then I dragged my right hand over my arm
until it reached the spot. With the last bit
of energy I had, I sent a bolt of electricity
through it.
The sudden thump of weight onto my
shoulders was the most wonderful thing
I’d ever felt.
“Save Sandra,” I tried to say, but all
that came out was an unintelligible gurgle.
Something shoved me roughly, blasting
more pain into me. Had Shrapnel come
back? I wondered, and then didn’t care as
a lovely numbness began to creep over
m e . Not good, a shred of rationale
warned. Don’t pass out! You won’t wake
up!I tried to force my way past the
darkness and the addictive bliss of
diminishing pain. It felt like swimming in
quicksand—the more I struggled, the
deeper I sank. Then consciousness
returned at the brutal sensation of being
dragged. My ribs felt like twigs someone
snapped within me, but I managed a few
ragged gulps of air. That and the fresh
deluge of pain chased away the ominous
lethargy. Then a thunderous noise snapped
my eyes open, an orange haze momentarily
blinding me.
The fire had reached the gas tank at last.
Through the tiny slits that remained of
my vision, I saw I was now behind some
trees, their trunks taking the brunt of the
exploding debris. Sandra was unconscious
nearby, and Gretchen . . .
I had to be hallucinating. If I wasn’t,
then my sister was about twenty feet away,
crouched on top of Shrapnel. She had the
knife he’d killed Oscar with sticking out
of his chest, and though her expression
showed she was terrified, both her hands
were firmly wrapped around the hilt.
“Don’t even think of trying anything,”
she gasped.
Shrapnel’s eyes were fixed on her
while the sticklike things growing from his
shoulders and hips twitched. Soon his
arms and legs would be fully regenerated
and the damage to his insides healed. I
was about to warn Gretchen that he would
try something when three forms dropped
next to them with the abruptness of
crashing meteors. The fourth landed next
to me, green eyes ablaze and dark hair
whipping wildly as he tore his wrist open
before shoving it against my mouth.
Vlad. Someone must’ve spotted the
smoke after all.
As I began to drink from the deep slash,
Vlad’s guards hauled Shrapnel up, one of
them removing the knife before he could
spare himself by taking his own life. Then
my vision went completely dark. I
swallowed again, but the pain wracking
my body didn’t lessen. Instead, it grew
until it felt like razors were being shoved
into my skull while the tightness in my
chest spread to engulf the rest of my body.
I couldn’t swallow anymore. I couldn’t
even summon the strength to take another
breath. When coldness swept over me,
replacing the pain with its icy caress, I
knew he’d arrived too late.
“No!”
Vlad’s shout held me down, but only for
a moment. Then inner chains I’d never felt
before broke and I burst forth like a bullet
being fired through a gun. I wasn’t broken
on the ground anymore. I was soaring, and
it was more exhilarating than any of the
dreams I’d had where I could fly. My
vision was no longer an ugly haze of
crimson and darkness. Instead, everything
was bathed in brightest light while the
comforting scent of rainwater and freesia
enveloped me. I’d smelled that before, so
long ago I’d forgotten it, but now I knew at
once who it belonged to. And then I saw
her. The streaks of silver in her black hair
looked radiant. So did the tiny lines on her
face when she smiled. All at once, the
guilt I’d carried fell away. She didn’t say
anything. She didn’t need to. I felt that
she’d never blamed me for her death and
that she’d forgiven me all my other
wrongs. I rushed toward her, but with that
lovely smile, she held out a hand to ward
me off.
Not yet, baby, whispered across my
mind.
Then something yanked me down with
brutal force. Her sweet scent vanished, as
did the crystalline sunshine I’d been flying
in. I began to fall with terrifying speed,
every attempt to catch myself countered
with another relentless tug. The ground
was fast approaching, yet I could do
nothing to fight the invisible grip that
pitilessly continued to wrench me
downward.
When I landed on that unyielding
surface, the impact broke me apart. I
waited for the soothing cold caress of
death to come, but it didn’t.
Instead, all I felt was fire.
Chapter 36
Blood.
My mouth was wet with it while its
scent perfumed the air, no longer coppery
and sharp, but heady and intoxicating. I
swallowed and inhaled simultaneously,
trying to fill myself in every way with the
blissful liquid that made the pain go away.
For a few moments, I was lost in satiation
so complete it was like coming and
cresting an incredible high at the same
time.
Then, like every high I’d relived
through my abilities, the crash left me
shivering, hurting, and desperate for
another hit.
Someone snarled, “More,” in a tone I’d
expect from a rabid animal if it could talk.
The response was a wet, chilly cloth to
my face. It took away the blood I’d been
licking, and my eyes snapped open in
outrage. Once they did, everything was so
bright and vivid that for a second, I
couldn’t focus.
“I said more!”
Two things registered at the same time.
That savage voice came from me, and I
hadn’t breathed in between speaking.
Feeling tiny daggers jab me in the lip was
almost redundant.
You’ve really done it this time , my
inner voice mocked.
My teeth ground, driving what I knew
were fangs deeper into my lower lip.
Seemed that dying and being brought back
as a vampire still hadn’t killed my hated
internal voice.
Then the kaleidoscope of colors
became distinct shapes and Vlad came
into focus. His black pants and indigo
shirt reeked of smoke and burnt rubber,
but under that, I caught the rich aroma of
blood, and everything else vanished.
I leapt on him, seeking those luscious
traces with an urgency that had me tearing
into his skin and clothes with my new
fangs. He murmured something I didn’t
comprehend in my search for the source of
that scent. Part of me was appalled at my
savageness, yet the rest only cared for one
thing.
Blood. Need it. NOW.
Vlad shoved me away, one hand
holding my snapping mouth at bay while
the other reached behind him. That inner
burning had returned, ravaging me with
pain so intense I couldn’t think past the
need to make it stop. Then ambrosia slid
down my throat, dousing my anguish so
thoroughly that grateful tears slid down my
cheeks. I swallowed as though I was
trying to drown, my eyes closing with
relief so profound I thought I might pass
out. Then something else edged through my
relief. Anger, followed by a tidal wave of
the rawest, most unbridled emotion I’d
ever felt. Calling it love was likening a
spring shower to a hurricane, and when I
realized it didn’t come from me, but the
vampire still holding my jaw in an iron
grip, I was shocked.
“I can feel you.”
The whisper made his gaze gleam
brighter than I’d seen before, yet now, it
didn’t hurt to hold his stare.
“Because your shopping deception cost
you your humanity.”
The harshness in his tone would’ve
made me flinch except for the fresh surge
across my emotions. More anger, yes, but
born from fear of losing me. I hadn’t
thought Vlad was capable of being afraid,
yet it threaded through my subconscious
along with another wave of love’s
seething, unhinged second cousin. I
thought his controlling behavior stemmed
from arrogance, but it came from a
pathological need to protect me. If I
wasn’t still fixated on thoughts of blood,
I’d be amazed at all he’d acquiesced to
while that compulsion raged in him.
Then another crippling pain hit me,
erasing the rest under a hunger so severe it
was like starving to death a thousand
times in the space of seconds. I would’ve
collapsed if not for Vlad’s grip, and
before I could scream from that awful
inner burning, a new mouthful of ambrosia
took the agony away.
I swallowed as greedily as before, this
time returning to my senses before he
pried the sodden shreds of plastic out of
my hands. Plasma bags, I noted while
licking my hands clean with an impulse I
couldn’t control. How modern of him. If
memory served, I’d be a blood-crazed
maniac for days until I garnered enough
strength not to murder the first living
person who crossed my path. The thought
was depressing.
Then another realization belatedly
struck.
“How am I a vampire instead of a
ghoul? I remember dying . . .”
And seeing my mother. That stunned me
into momentarily forgetting my question.
She hadn’t been a dream or an illusion; I
knew that as surely as I knew my own
name. That meant there was something
after death. I’d never believed it because I
hadn’t seen it from the other deaths I’d
relived, but maybe glimpsing what lay
beyond had to be personally experienced.
Vlad’s grip loosened until he stroked
my throat instead of restrained my jaw.
“My blood wasn’t enough to heal you this
time. It did, however, start the
transformation process.”
“How?”
His teeth flashed in a humorless smile.
“In normal transformations, I’d drain you
to the point of death before having you
drink my blood. You drained yourself to
the point of death with your injuries, and
you had enough of my blood in you that the
additional amount I gave you tipped you
over the edge.”
Then his hand dropped, rage-infused
anguish scraping across my emotions
before he went on.
“Of course I didn’t know that until after
you died, when suddenly, you began
tearing at my throat.”
I didn’t remember that, nor did I have
any recollection of being brought here.
The last thing I remembered was seeing
Shrapnel hauled up by guards and Vlad
kneeling beside me.
“Gretchen. She’s okay, isn’t she?”
“Minor injuries only.”
This time the relief I felt wasn’t fueled
by ingesting a bellyful of blood. “And
Sandra?”
“More serious injuries, but she’ll
recover.”
I didn’t want to ask, but I had to know.
“Shrapnel?”
His mouth tightened. “Where he
belongs.”
That meant the dungeon, no doubt.
Maybe that’s where we were, too. This
room looked like a fancier version of one
of Vlad’s prison cells since the walls,
ceiling, and floor were solid rock with no
apparent exit, but there were two stacked
mattresses in the corner covered by
several thick blankets. That hadn’t been
standard in the dungeon accommodations
I’d seen, though the absence of lights was
—
And I could still see perfectly. I blinked
as if expecting that to change, which of
course it didn’t. No light illuminated the
tight quarters, yet I saw every inch down
to the red smears streaking the walls that
smelled so good I wanted to lick them.
When twin pinpricks of pain jabbed me in
the lip, I knew my new fangs had sprung
out again.
I closed my eyes, feeling overwhelmed.
I hadn’t wanted this so soon and I didn’t
know if I could handle it. But ready or not,
I was now a vampire. My hand slid down
my chest to my heart. Twenty-five years of
beating, and yet forevermore it would be
as silent as a drum that someone had
abandoned.
When I opened my eyes, Vlad was
staring at me. He said nothing, yet an odd
mixture of empathy and ruthlessness
strafed my subconscious. You brought this
on yourself, his emotions seemed to relay,
but you will not face it alone.
I stared back, noticing a tiny scar by his
nose that I hadn’t seen before. That wasn’t
the only thing. His skin no longer seemed
pale; it looked faintly luminescent, as
though covering a light he carried within.
His hair wasn’t merely dark brown, but a
rich collage of black, umber, and chestnut.
The air around him crackled with energy,
and when he stroked my throat again, his
hand tingled as if he were the one suffused
with inner electricity.
“You’re different now, too,” I said in
wonder.
His mouth curled; half mocking, half
Date: 2015-12-11; view: 374
|