The much anticipated next Night 15 page

amused.

“You’re a vampire. You see details

humans are blind to, sense powers they

don’t understand, and feel emotions more

strongly than they can even imagine.”

Then he grasped my hair, using it to pull

my head back before lowering his mouth.

“Now feel this,” he muttered.

The rough caress of his stubble and

sensual suppleness of his lips paled next

to emotions blasting across my

subconscious. Lust tore through me like a

flash fire, almost dropping me to my

knees. It burned my nerve endings as

thoroughly as the hunger had, but not with

pain. Instead, I was overwhelmed with a

need to dominate by pleasure until

rapturous screams rang in my ears, and to

do it right now.

My mouth opened, tongue tangling with

his while I grasped his shirt. It fell apart

in my hands as easily as wet paper, and

then his heat made me gasp when he

yanked me to him. He’d always been

warm, but now he felt like flame encased

in flesh. He ripped off my dress, bra, and

panties just as ruthlessly as I’d destroyed

his shirt before flinging me onto the

nearby mattress.

I moaned when his body covered mine,

shocked at how different this also was.

Every brush of his skin heightened

sensations that had me arching against him

with primal demand. Each caress seemed

to penetrate into hidden parts of me that

were starved for his touch. Everything

before faded to a colorless memory like

the psychic glimpses I caught of the past. It

was as though this was the first time we

were making love, and when he pushed

my thighs apart and his mouth descended

between them, a flare of ecstasy made me

scream.

I don’t know how long I writhed against

him, pleasure rending me asunder with

every searing flick of his tongue. When he

rose up and tore the front of his pants

open, I was still shuddering from orgasm,

but seeing that thick length of flesh

swelled need in me all over again. I slid

down, pulling him on top of me. Then my

head fell back from the force of his kiss as

his mouth claimed mine.

His taste was sharper, saltier, and so

explicitly carnal it made me ache where I

was wet. His body was an inferno, and

anticipation cut my emotions in a visceral

swath when he reached down between us.

I broke our kiss and bit his shoulder

without thinking, shocked at how natural it

felt. Pleasure rippled through me as I sank

my fangs deeper. Whether it was mine or

his, I didn’t know, and when he yanked my

hips up to meet his thrust, I didn’t care.

I stopped biting him to scream when his

scorching flesh pushed inside me. Had it

felt like this before? No, it couldn’t. I

wouldn’t have been able to stand the

exquisite clenching of my inner muscles

when he ground against my clitoris after

he could go no deeper. Or the bliss when

his mouth closed over my throat and he bit

down where my pulse would have been.

Then he thrust forward, my throat still

captured in his fangs, and the sense of

being utterly dominated and yet never

more powerful ripped away my

inhibitions.

I tore his mouth away, barely noticing

the sting from his fangs as my skin tore.

Then I wrapped my arms around him and

bit him in the same spot. Pleasure

overloaded my nerve endings from the

connection to his feelings, driving me to a

frenzy. He moved faster, deeper, his grip

turning bruising, and I gloried in it, sinking

my fangs into his neck to match every hard

thrust. My nails ripped across his back,

drawing a slickness that wasn’t sweat.

Ecstasy grew along with an inner ache that

demanded more without caring if it was

too much. He was too hot, too big, too

rough—and I’d die if he stopped.

I tore my mouth away from his neck,

gasping, “I love you so much,” right

before another orgasm left me shaking

from its intensity. Through half-slitted

eyes I saw Vlad’s head was thrown back,

streaks of crimson marring the sleek line

of his throat. Then his head lowered and

he stared at me while his searing hands

stroked my face.

“And I love you, my wife.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond. He

slid down, his mouth descending between

my legs with passionate ferocity. I arched

against him with a moan that was half

rapture, half frustration. This felt

incredible, but I wanted him inside me

again—

All thought cleared my mind when his

fangs replaced his tongue, piercing my

clitoris instead of licking it. White-hot

pleasure blasted through me, making

electricity shoot from my right hand.

Smoke curled from the hole it drilled into

the bed, but all I could do was clutch the

sheets as he began to suck with long, deep

pulls.

His name left my throat in a strangled

sob. Another strong suction had me

shouting it, and then I couldn’t think

enough to do that. All I could do was

clutch him while wordless cries tore from

me, and when he flipped me over after a

final, mind-shattering suction, I couldn’t

even move.

He pulled my hips up, a deep thrust

drawing another choked cry from me. My

flesh throbbed and tingled, tightening

around him convulsively as he withdrew.

He lifted me, drawing me into his lap.

Another arch of his hips cleaved him into

me again. I gripped his thighs as I rocked

back against him, feeling his burning lips

on my neck when he drew my hair aside to

kiss me there. Then there was nothing

except the fierce rhythm that brought me to

climax the instant before he reached his,

and the shudders that shook us within and

without.

Chapter 37

When Vlad let me go, I fell back against

the mattress, not panting only because I

didn’t need to breathe. I’d never smoked

before, but if this cell had a cigarette, I

would’ve lit up in salutary

commemoration.

Then my stomach clenched. My

satiation vanished, replaced by hunger so

intense that I began to shake.

Vlad jerked me up, pushing me against

the wall with one hand while the other

punched numbers on a keypad I hadn’t

noticed before. A drawer slid out of the

stone surface, and one glance at what it

contained made my mind go blank with

need.

The next few minutes were a whirling

carousel of pain and relief. When my

sanity returned, I was still against the

wall, sucking at the remains of a plastic

bag while Vlad watched.

He held out his hand and I forced

myself to relinquish the bag even though it

had some luscious crimson streaks

remaining. Still, I would not act like an

animal a moment longer than necessary.

He took it and the other cellophane

remains at my feet, depositing them in the

same slot the bags had come from.

“How did you know?” I managed to ask

calmly.

A shrug. “It’s the same with all new

vampires. Sex, anger, and violence will

trigger your hunger. Until you can control

it, you need to learn to anticipate it.”

I glanced down. Blood splashed my

front from how madly I’d torn at the

plasma bags, making me look like an

actress from a pornographic horror movie.

I had several more days of mindless

feeding frenzies ahead, but some things

couldn’t wait for me to master my new

hunger.

I went over to the bed and wrapped the

sheet around me. What I had to say was

too serious to talk about while naked.

“So you figured out Shrapnel was the

traitor,” I began.

A snort cut me off. “I didn’t think you

cut him into pieces because he

accidentally drove you off a cliff.”

I held his gaze. “He was the only traitor

in your house, but he wasn’t the only

accomplice.”

Vlad’s gaze turned bright green.

“Explain.”

“Sandra was passing messages—”

I didn’t get to say anything else before

Vlad whirled, pressing a part of the wall

that looked no different from the rest, yet a

door suddenly appeared.

“Waters,” he barked into the open

space. “Secure Sandra immediately.”

Don’t, I mentally yelled. It’s not her

fault!

He didn’t reply. Right, he couldn’t hear

my thoughts anymore. I’d put that and

spectacular sex in the plus column of

being a vampire.

“She didn’t know,” I said out loud.

“Shrapnel mesmerized her into doing it. I

saw it when I touched her.”

He turned, his expression no less

foreboding, but he did add, “Secure her

gently, Waters,” before closing it by

pressing another indistinguishable panel.

“What else did you see?”

I couldn’t tell if his displeasure curling

into my emotions was due to Shrapnel’s

actions or mine.

“First promise me you’re not going hurt

Sandra.”

He folded his arms across his chest.

With his muscular build and the blood

spattered on him from my rabid feedings,

he couldn’t have looked more menacing,

but I refused to back down.

“Promise me,” I repeated.

“I do have other ways to find out,” he

said silkily.

I let out a grim snort. “Why do you think

I went behind your back? I’m well aware

of your ‘ways’ for getting information.

That’s why I wasn’t going to subject my

friend to them if she’d done nothing

wrong.”

His mouth tightened while echoes of his

anger slashed my emotions, yet that wasn’t

all. As poignant as a bittersweet memory,

regret floated into my subconscious.

Losing my mortality was my fault, but I

realized Vlad blamed himself, too.

Then he pressed the wall and that

hidden door appeared again.

“Well, go on,” he said with a sweep of

his hand.

I looked at the open entry suspiciously.

“Aren’t I supposed to be in lockdown

because I’m a bloodthirsty menace right

now?”

“Yes, but you’re coming with me to see

for yourself that Sandra won’t be harmed,

as long as she didn’t knowingly betray me.

Unless, of course”—a sharklike grin

—“you end up ripping her throat out

yourself.”

Ihadn’t expected to return to the dungeon

so soon, yet after showering, getting

dressed, going into another feeding frenzy,

showering and redressing again, here I

was. When we entered the first chamber

of the dungeon, the stench made me recoil.

It smelled like someone had mixed

together kerosene, rotten fruit, stale blood,

urine, and dog shit, then blown it up. How

had I not noticed this before? I wasn’t

even breathing, but the rancid odor found

its way into my nose anyway.

“This place stinks.”

“Did the guards forget to spray

Febreze?” Vlad asked in mock

indignation. Then he gave me a jaded

look. “It’s a dungeon, Leila. They’re

supposed to smell.”

Mission accomplished. The stench

might have actually killed my new

appetite. If Hell could fart, it would smell

like this.

“Leila!”

I turned toward Sandra’s voice. She

wasn’t restrained to the large stone

monolith, to my relief. Instead, she was

huddled on the floor, her expression so

stricken it was clear she thought she’d

never leave this place. As soon as she

saw me, she lunged toward me.

“Please, tell them there has been a

mistake!”

One of the guards appeared out of

nowhere, catching her before she reached

me. Good thing, too. She’d also showered

and changed clothes since the accident,

but I could smell dried blood from her

scratches, scabs, and the stitched wound

in her head even above the horrid stink.

Fangs pressed against my gums.

You just ate , I reminded myself, and

Sandra is NOT dessert.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “Vlad just needs

to peel back your memories on a few

things.”

We were doing that here because he

wanted Shrapnel to witness the exposure

of his betrayal and there was only one

p l a c e he was staying. Despite the

challenge to my control, I wasn’t leaving

until Vlad was finished probing Sandra’s

mind. I was the only ally she had, and the

dungeon was terrifying enough without

having a friend at your side. Vlad might

taunt me about ripping out Sandra’s throat,

but he’d never let me do it.

Besides, I also wanted to hear more

about the brunette vampire Shrapnel had

been getting it on with. Like why she’d

been so determined to kill me, for starters.

Of course, being down here meant

coming face-to-face with Vlad’s dark

side, and he wasted no time in letting it

out.

“Take him down,” he said, pointing at

Shrapnel.

Three vampires again appeared like

ninjas, but as they removed the many

manacles binding Shrapnel to the stone

wall, their movements no longer appeared

blurringly fast. Before the last silver chain

fell, Vlad picked up a lengthy wooden

pole and rammed it the long way through

Shrapnel’s midsection.

Sandra gasped. I tried not to notice how

her heart rate sped up as if trying to catch

my attention. Surreptitiously, I squeezed

the plasma bag I’d tucked into my jacket.

If I felt a hunger stab, I’d rip into that

instead, giving the guards more time to

protect Sandra. How was that for

anticipating?

Vlad carried Shrapnel over to one of

the holes in the stone, dropping the end of

the pole in as casually as putting a flower

in a vase. Through it all, Shrapnel let out

several harsh grunts, but that was it. His

fortitude was impressive, but the stronger

he was, the more he’d endure while Vlad

sought to discover who he’d betrayed him

to and why. Shrapnel had tried to kill me

twice, yet I still couldn’t help but pity him.

A sniffle directed my attention back to

Sandra. Her head hung low, long reddishgold

hair shielding her expression.

“I did something awful, didn’t I?” she

whispered. “I don’t remember it, but when

you touched me in the car, I felt it.”

I wanted to pat her consolingly but her

pulse was already starting to sound like a

dinner bell, so I didn’t trust myself to get

any closer.

“Vlad’s not angry at you,” I said in my

most reassuring voice. “In fact, you’re

going to help us find the other person who

forced you to betray him, and then we’re

going to stop her.”

Vlad’s brow arched.

“Her?”

“Her,” I repeated, glancing up at

Shrapnel. “And apparently, she’s a spell

caster.”

Chapter 38

Shrapnel stared at me and his obsidian

gaze became sprinkled with green.

“You lied to me. You don’t know who

she is.”

He sounded more surprised than angry,

not that he’d have any reason to point

fingers on the subject of dishonesty.

“We don’t know yet, but we’re about

to,” I replied coolly.

With Shrapnel now getting a bird’s-eye

view, Vlad strode over to Sandra.

“If you were aware of none of your

actions because they altered your memory,

I will hold you blameless.”

Conditional words of comfort, but they

worked. Sandra knelt on one knee and

bowed her head.

“You took me from the streets after my

parents abandoned me. Gave me a home,

an education, and the promise of a better

future. I would never knowingly betray

you.”

Vlad’s mouth curled sardonically as he

cast a look up at Shrapnel. “Then you

would be more faithful than two of my

closest friends turned out to be.”

At those words, a stinging mixture of

anger and pain threaded into my emotions.

I winced, reminded that Shrapnel’s

actions were more than a vampire going

against his sire. A knife in the back hurt so

much worse when it came from a friend.

Sandra rose and brushed her hair aside.

“Lasă-mă să-ți dovedesc, prinţul meu!”

Vlad grasped her neck and lowered his

mouth. As he bit her, something rose in me

I didn’t expect. Not hunger, though the

fresh scent of blood made my own fangs

spring out. Not concern for Sandra losing

more blood since she was already in

rough shape. Instead, I had an

overwhelming urge to rip her out of

Vlad’s arms and then lash her with a

sizzling electrical whip until nothing

remained but ragged pieces.

I was jealous. How absurd. He was a

vampire, she was a human who’d had her

mind altered, and the best way to get

around that was to take her blood before

mesmerizing her. I knew that, but it didn’t

stop the surge of emotions that made

sparks fall from my hand.

His mouth on her. Her head falling

back in a way that didn’t denote pain.

The line of his throat as he

swallowed . . .

A bolt torpedoed into the rock floor

beneath my hand. Turning into a vampire

hadn’t dulled my inner electricity a bit. At

once, I covered the crack with my foot, as

if that would stop anyone from noticing.

Vlad lifted his head, his gaze going

unerringly to the spot before he looked at

me. I expected an eye roll for my display

of irrational jealousy, but instead, he

looked thoughtful.

Then he released Sandra, dabbing the

puncture wounds in her neck with his

thumb after he pierced it with a fang. I

tried to rein in my emotions—and the

currents that kept my hand sparking—

while mentally singing Sting’s “Every

Breath You Take.” Life-and-death stakes

going on, Leila. Get your priorities

straight.

“He came into her room to mesmerize

her,” I said, in case that detail helped.

Vlad’s eyes turned green as he stared at

Sandra like she was the only person in the

room.

“Shrapnel came into your room,” he

repeated, his voice resonant. “He wanted

you to pass along a message. What was

it?”“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Yes you do.”

The air crackled, causing the hairs on

my arms to stand on end. An invisible

wave seemed to roll off Vlad, filling the

room with enough energy to make my skin

crawl. What was he doing?

“You can see him in your room,” Vlad

continued in that same vibrating tone.

“Hear his voice even now. What is he

saying?”

“He says”—her face tightened as if

straining to hear a far-off whisper—“tell

her that her powers are back. She almost

died using them, but Vlad revived her and

now he won’t leave her side. I will

attempt tainting her food if she wakes up.”

I swung an accusing look Shrapnel’s

way. While I was in a coma, he was

planning to poison me?

Rage brushed my emotions but Vlad

said nothing and he didn’t glance away

from Sandra.

“That wasn’t his only message. What

else?”

In the monotone I’d come to associate

with people under a vampire’s influence,

Sandra recounted Shrapnel telling his

accomplice all the details of my abilities,

my location at the carnival, and my

location at the hotel with Maximus. He

even stated that Maximus would need to

be neutralized by extreme measures. The

liquid silver bullets flashed across my

mind. It didn’t get much more extreme than

that. When Vlad ordered Sandra to repeat

the woman’s messages, they started off as

benign inquiries about me that seemed

more curious than threatening. That

changed after the carnival bombing. Once

her real intentions were exposed, it wasn’t

a surprise that subsequent messages

consisted of variations of Kill Leila. Kill

her now. While my anger grew, most of

this we already knew, and I didn’t need to

feel Vlad’s emotions to know he was

frustrated by that, too.

“Where do you meet her to relay these

messages?” he asked.

Sandra frowned. “I’ve never met her,

but every two days, I go into town to the

bookstore. I write the messages down and

put them in The Odyssey by Homer. If The

Odyssey has a new message waiting from

her, I memorize it, throw it away, and then

repeat it to Shrapnel, but only if he asks

me to. Otherwise, I never mention it. I

don’t even remember the messages.”

Sandra said the last part like she was

repeating a set of instructions. No doubt

she was, and they’d been given to her

under the same mind-controlling

circumstances she was in now.

“Get to the bookstore,” Vlad said

without looking away from Sandra. One of

his guards bowed smartly and then left.

“You’ve never met her, but did he tell

you her name?”

More of that hair-raising energy rolled

out of Vlad, until I was rubbing my arms

to chase the tingling sensations away. Was

this what Marty meant when he told me

vampires could measure each others’

strength by feeling their auras? If so, then

Vlad’s had Badass: Do Not Engage

written all over it.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to know it.”

Sandra sounded bemused. “But once,

Shrapnel called her Cynthiana.”

Vlad’s features hardened as though his

face had been transformed into stone.

Clearly he recognized the name. It

sounded familiar to me, too, but I couldn’t

place where I’d heard it. Shrapnel closed

his eyes, his expression showing more

pain than when Vlad rammed a long

wooden pole through his torso. Despite

everything, Shrapnel still loved her, and

his worst fear was now realized because

she’d just landed herself at the top of

Vlad’s most wanted list.

My gaze swung back to Vlad as memory

clicked. “Cynthiana. Isn’t that the name of

the woman you dated before me?”

“It is,” Vlad said, still staring at

Shrapnel.

I wracked my brain to recall what else

Maximus had said. She’d been with Vlad

for a ridiculously long time—that I

remembered—and when he dumped her,

she did something. What was it? Right,

she dated one of his friends trying to make

him jealous. Oldest trick in the book, but it

hadn’t worked . . .

And that friend had been Shrapnel. I

goggled at him.

“Did Cynthiana think if I were dead,

she’d have another chance at Vlad? If so,

why would you go along with that? You

love her; I felt it when I linked to you.”

Shrapnel said nothing. His silence was

further proof of his feelings, but if she

wasn’t motivated by jealousy, why would

Cynthiana risk her own life by repeatedly

trying to end mine?

Whatever her reasons, she’d murdered

a bunch of innocent people before her

linking booby trap had finally killed me—

temporarily. Dawn’s face flashed in my

mind. She hadn’t deserved to die before

she could find her way in life. Neither had

anyone else at the carnival, and Vlad’s

guards hadn’t deserved getting blown up

because Shrapnel was making a last-ditch

effort to cover his tracks. Finally, I hadn’t

deserved any of the crap I’d endured

because of Cynthiana’s murderous

intentions.

“You can go, Sandra,” Vlad said, his

eyes darkening back to their normal

copper color. “Your part in this is

forgiven.”

Released from his gaze, she blinked,

then said something very fast in Romanian.

“Of course this is still your home,”

Vlad replied impatiently. Then he waved

a dismissive hand. “Go.”

A bearded guard escorted Sandra out. I

was glad to see her leave. She’d done

nothing to warrant being here, unlike the

vampire suspended on the tall wooden

pole.

Vlad stared at Shrapnel. For an instant,

a tornado of rage, frustration, and regret

assaulted my emotions. Then it was as if a

wall slammed down, cutting off everything

except my own angry feelings. Even the

swirling energy coming from Vlad

dissipated.

“You know what happens now,” he

said, sounding utterly dispassionate.

I did, too. Bring it on! a vengeful part

of me snarled.

Then I remembered the grisly machines

in the next cavern. Vlad would show no

pity in order to discover where Cynthiana

was, but if I could link to the brunette

vampire, I could spare Shrapnel some of

that. He deserved to die for what he’d

done, yet if my powers had hung on

through my transformation, I could make it

a quicker, less painful death. If I didn’t at

least try, wasn’t I as heartless as the bitch

who’d cold-bloodedly murdered several

people in her attempts to kill me?

“Let’s try something else first.”

Only Vlad’s eyes moved as he glanced

at me. “He’s come too far to be cajoled

into giving her up now.”

Shrapnel bared his teeth. Not a smile.

One predator’s warning to another. Then

he said something in a language that

sounded like Romanian, but more guttural.

Vlad grunted.

“I have no doubt you’ll make me work

for it, my friend.” Then to me he said

simply, “Leave. You won’t want to see

this.”

That, I had no doubt, but I wasn’t

finished.

“He’s tough as nails, so you can do

your worst for weeks . . . or let me do my

best in minutes.”

Vlad glanced at my hands with a hard

little smile.

“It’s very likely your abilities won’t

work so soon after your transformation, if

they return at all.”

“I’m still filled with voltage. The rest

has to be there, too.”

So saying, I bent and touched the ground

with my right hand. Nothing. After a few

seconds, a sound escaped Shrapnel; half

sigh, half laugh. Even though he knew it

meant his torture, he was glad.

My mouth thinned as I touched the

ground again. Still nothing but cold,

uneven stone. I did it a third time, yet

despite how essence-soaked these rocks

must be, I saw nothing.

“Leila.” Vlad sounded almost weary.

“You can’t stop this.”

He didn’t realize it, but those words

only fueled my determination. All my life,

I’d been told, “You can’t.” First it was

“You can’t compete at an Olympic level,”

yet I won a shot at making the gymnastics

team. Then after all the nerve damage

from the accident, it was “You can’t walk

again,” but not only did I walk, I joined

the circus as an acrobat. Then it was “You

can’t touch anyone,” but I met Marty, a

vampire who became my work partner

and best friend. Then later, it was “You

can’t ask me to love you,” but now I was

Mrs. Vlad Dracul, thank you very much.

I glared at the gray stone floor. No way

would a hunk of rock defeat me after

everything I’d been through.

I didn’t touch it again—I raked my hand

over it so hard that I cut it on the tiny

edges in the stone. Then I concentrated

until I didn’t hear Vlad’s continued

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 411