Chain Me (The Ellie Gray Chronicles Book 2)

by Lana Sky

  Red. That’s all I saw. All I could taste. Anger. Rage. Blood.

  Now I knew how Dublin could switch from man to devil so easily.

  Madness.

  It was the only word capable of describing it. Poised, quiet Gray girls didn’t give into fits of hysteria. We seldom launched ourselves down a staircase toward a creature who could easily break our necks with the strength in his pinky. We never shouted—and certainly not the tumult of words spilling from my throat. I couldn’t even decipher them all, just one plaintive howl that echoed incessantly off the walls.

  “What do you mean you were lying?”

  “Eleanor, stop!” A grip of steel cinched my waist, lifting me from the ground. I resisted senselessly, my legs kicking at nothing. “Stop!”

  When I finally felt the floor again, I swayed, unable to keep my balance. All I could do was cling to the nearest source of stability within reach—firm, frozen flesh. He held me, even as the tears spilling down my cheeks painted the flesh of his chest.

  “What does he mean he was lying?” I couldn’t stop demanding it. Screaming it.

  “I won’t let him hurt you,” Dublin insisted, his entire posture possessive.

  But it was far too late for that. Hurt was the only way to describe it—being yanked from one extreme to the other within the span of only a few days. From despair, to numbness, to…hope?

  Hope was the most bitter of the three to swallow. The most painful. I choked on it as Dmitri’s chilling laugh resonated off the walls.

  “Look at me.” Dublin captured my chin, commanding my attention. “Five minutes. Give me five minutes.”

  He cut his gaze to my bedroom door and I knew instinctively what he meant. Five minutes to reestablish control. Five minutes of secrecy with the man who seemed to relish in mind games designed to drive me insane.

  Five minutes of trust.

  When I finally stopped shaking enough to stand on my own, he let me go. Watchful, his gaze tracked my every tortured movement as I entered my bedroom and closed the door behind me.

  Five minutes.

  I could have lingered, straining for every snippet of their conversation like an eavesdropping child. God knew I wasn’t above the action. But…

  I turned away, observing the room clearly for the first time since returning from the Opera.

  Crumpled bedsheets covered the mattress I’d barely left in three days—but telltale signs revealed how someone had done their best to take care of me. There was an empty glass on the nightstand, once containing the water they’d urged me to drink in my stupor. Another pillow rested beside mine, utilized by someone who didn’t even need to sleep. He had shared the cold bed with me anyway.

  My throat tightened with too many emotions to decipher at once. After everything, the least I owed him was five damn minutes. But then what?

  “I lied.”

  “I lied.”

  I couldn’t focus on what that confession might mean. I decided to shower instead. Hours of despair clung to my skin, more unbearable than any stench.

  I found an adjacent bathroom and drew a bath as hot as I could stand it. A groan tore from my lips as I sank beneath the rushing liquid. It felt good. It felt. Ignoring my five-minute deadline, I took my time, washing my body with some lavender-scented soap and a washcloth I’d found in a cupboard.

  Without observing my reflection, I ran my fingers through my wet hair once finished and then redonned the robe.

  By the time I returned to the foyer, it was well past five minutes. Regardless, Dublin waited for me at the bottom step. He was still wearing only the black pants. Nonetheless, he appeared as imposing as ever. His gaze roamed my body in silent scrutiny, tracing the contours of the robe. If he didn’t approve of the outfit choice, he didn’t say so. When I held my hand out, he took it, drawing me to his side.

  As we advanced down the hall, his clenched jaw betrayed a warning. Be on your guard.

  Dmitri was waiting in a small sitting room, holding court from a leather chair positioned near a curtained window. “Allow me to apologize, my dear,” he said to me. The amusement flicking in his eyes contradicted the contriteness of his tone. “I had no intention to startle you.”

  “You didn’t?” I’d never known how disdainful I could sound. Not even Dublin had drawn that snarl out of me. “Then what was your intention?”

  His smile widened. “To test a small theory.” Uninvited, his gaze cut down to my stomach and I found myself obstructing his view with the flat of my free hand.

  “What theory?” How to drive a woman insane with as little effort as possible? Because as much as it confused me to admit it…

  I’d gone insane. Only now could I climb out from the chaos of my own thoughts and see the smoldering ruins for myself. Days spent in bed clinging to a vampire for emotional support. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Cry perhaps?

  Because those three days had been the first time in my life that I’d ever had anyone to drain for emotional support. Like a leech, all irony aside.

  And more baffling, Dublin had let me take every last drop I’d needed.

  Shame flooded my cheeks, setting them on fire as I glanced at him beside me while he glowered as stoically as ever.

  “What theory did you want to test?” I finally demanded of Dmitri.

  He raised a reddish eyebrow while stroking his hairless chin. “A hunch,” he said vaguely. “The truth is that your condition is rarer than you realize. There are only rumors, many of them…disturbing.” He smiled. “Though I am now positive that dear Dublin knows better than any of us—”

  “Don’t,” the man beside me warned. “Peddle your lies again and I’ll rip your tongue from your mouth.”

  “As you wish.” Dmitri nodded, lifting his arms in a gesture of surrender. “Frankly, I understand your skepticism. Such is the nature of hearsay, you see. More often than not, you’ll find it circulates merely to serve a certain advantage. Much like a rumor being murmured about you, dear Eleanor.”

  The line of my mouth tightened in foreboding anticipation. I had enough sense to recognize a dangling carrot when I saw one. No doubt, another “exaggeration” would serve as the punishing stick should I take the bait.

  So I said nothing, yet his grin took on a more satisfied tilt.

  “Some speculate that you might be in possession of something… Let’s just say something intangible worth more than you can possibly imagine.”

  An answer came to my mind instantly. A prize tempting enough to spark the greed even Dmitri’s cool grin couldn’t disguise. Ten years.

  “Dmitri…” Dublin’s tone deepened well beyond a warning.

  “Well, yes. Anyway, while the information is scarce, I’ve always had a fondness for tracking down the sources of any rumor to catch my ears.” He clasped his hands together, balancing them on his knee. “It just so happens that I stumbled across a few tidbits of information that might interest you about your current condition.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying?” A better question might be why my voice broke over the thought of it. Answers, good or bad. Ignoring my “cancer” until now had been a foolish, childish whim. I could see that.

  But could I stomach the truth?

  Dmitri sighed and reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “Easy,” he warned as Dublin stepped between us, shoving me behind him. “I bring gifts, as promised. A bit of light reading.”

  When Dublin didn’t rush to disarm him, I assumed whatever he was holding must have posed some semblance of legitimacy. Skirting the formidable body before me, I observed his offerings.

  Two slender leather-bound books. They looked old, more worn than Dublin’s mysterious Gray family tome. Yet as the light reflected off their stained covers, I couldn’t suppress a shiver.

  “You sense it, don’t you,” Dmitri murmured smugly. “Knowledge that our beloved Raphael wouldn’t dare allow to circulate that Den of yours. I am more than willing to share of course.” He withdrew the books slightly
beyond my reach. “For a price.”

  “And now you can leave.” Dublin placed his hand over my spine. In that simple touch, I sensed a silent promise—This isn’t the end. I’ll find another way.

  “So soon?” Dmitri chuckled. “Dare I say I’m not surprised. One could only expect you to be skeptical. Perhaps I can divulge a glimmer of what I’ve learned? Something tells me that you’ve already gleaned that small detail involving fresh blood?”

  I flinched, betraying the truth, and he nodded. “Ah… There’s more, of course,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. Narrowed in thought, he flickered his gaze to Dublin. “But first, I have to ask. Very few events could trigger such an occurrence from what I’ve read. Dear Dublin, tell me that you didn’t try breaking your little rule for her, did you? Forget your little hang-up about feeding from a live host, but to go a step further—”

  “I warned you once about your lies, did I not?” Dublin said so softly that I shuddered, fingering the edges of my robe.

  “Lies, yes,” Dmitri admitted. “But this is just a mere question.” He took a step forward, honing his gaze on my throat. Whatever he saw made him frown and that simple expression transformed him entirely. Gone was the sly intruder. He resembled a scholar mulling over a puzzling mystery.

  And somehow that made him more intimidating than ever.

  “You haven’t fed from her in a while,” he mused aloud. “For all your loathing of the act, you must have feared for her life, I suspect. I’d heard Raphael tried feeding from her. That could… But that wouldn’t explain why she didn’t die. No. Though if you did try to turn her—”

  “Enough!” The bellowed command resonated through the manor’s foundation, and I found myself bracing my hand against Dublin’s shoulder.

  “Don’t!”

  He swiveled his head in my direction, eyeing my fingers coldly, but the tension in his body eased just enough for me to breathe again. For whatever reason, I sensed that the contact had kept him from lunging.

  “And I will take my cue to leave.” Still smiling, Dmitri bowed. “Such a shame that we couldn’t come up with some kind of agreement,” he lamented as he headed for the entrance of the room. “What a shame. I had so hoped your child might survive unharmed.”

  I staggered an involuntary step toward him. “Wait!”

  Obediently, Dmitri lingered.

  Dublin simmered. “A word?” He took my arm, dragging me into an adjacent room.

  The door slammed behind us, rattling in its frame, as I found myself spun around, forced to face him directly.

  “Listen to me.” Something within his gaze made goosebumps creep over my skin. Unease. Wariness. Those rare few emotions he only displayed in the presence of Raphael. “You do not want to play his game,” he warned. “Yulia was right. I should have never even—”

  “I need answers.” It sounded like such a pathetic contrast to his caution. As if answers could ever change what a part of me already knew deep down.

  Some things you couldn’t change. Studying the sordid reasoning behind them didn’t make the truth any easier to stomach. Yet, at the same time, ignorance could be unbearable torture.

  “I need answers.” I couldn’t disguise the bleating, pleading note in my voice. But the longer I observed Dublin’s face, the more I realized that I might not have been the only one desperate for a lifeline. “I will admit that I don’t know your history,” I added. “But please. This isn’t cancer. I…I don’t want to pretend anymore. So, you can gut him like a fish with your bare hands when this is over, but I need answers.”

  “Should I be on my way?” Dmitri called from across the room. A glance over my shoulder revealed him standing in the doorway, observing his right hand with dejected interest. “I suppose I must—”

  “Wait!” It terrified me, how desperate I felt. Desperate enough to beg. I reached for Dublin’s hand, squeezing it so tight that I was sure, despite his superior strength, he still felt the pressure. “Please.”

  Like always, his blank expression gave me nothing to cling to. I floated in uncertainty for what felt like an eternity. Then…

  “What the hell do you want?” He advanced on the other man, using my grip to tether me behind him. “No riddles. No games. Just lay out your terms. Now.”

  Once more, Dmitri seemed to drop the carefree act. His eyes found me again, sparkling with undisguised interest.

  “I merely want to observe,” he said. “And conduct my own research. Why should these ancient bastards”—he hefted the journals—“have all the fun, eh? To put it a bit more bluntly, I simply want to come along for the ride.”

  If anything, that response made Dublin stiffen further. Remnants of winter emanated from his gaze, freezing me down to my core.

  Wisely, Dmitri seemed well aware of the delicate line he was toeing. “And I’ll even play nice,” he insisted. “No mentions of the past—for now. And I wasn’t even lying when I mentioned that little bounty on her head. I’ll even go further and share another tidbit of information—they fully intend to collect on it. Soon.”

  He let the word hang there, gauging my reaction, which—surprisingly—was more subdued than Dublin’s. I simply stared at him as my brain struggled to process the reality. While the man beside me nearly broke my hand.

  “Damn.” He released me, forming a fist. I swore I heard bone crunch and meld within the span of a second—he had clenched his fingers that tightly.

  “The funny thing is he is more than aware that his human soldiers can’t harm her as long as she’s under your protection. Oh, Mero—I mean, he of whom we will not speak.” Dmitri made finger quotes as Dublin snarled in warning. “You remember how he loved his deception? His games? Though he preferred poison over intrigue. Oh, the things that man could do with poison.” He sighed as though reliving a cherished memory. Then he cleared his throat. “So, if he truly wanted her dead, she would be. Therefore, her death isn’t his main goal, for now at least. Which means his ultimate plan is a bit more abstract. In fact…the sister is missing, correct? I’m sure he knows the value of that life to her.” He nodded toward me. “Oh, come now, don’t you see it? He’s deliberately trying to provoke you—”

  “Enough.” Dublin didn’t shout that time, but the low, raspy baritone seemed to reach even deeper, clawing open the part of me that recognized the beast he truly was beneath his flawless skin.

  “And I’d wondered why,” Dmitri mused, completely unperturbed. “I admit that I had to rack my brain for quite a while to come up with the solution. After all, why come out of hiding after so damn long? Raphael is of no interest to him, and we know how much he craved his peace. But then, if I may be so cliché, the answer appeared right in front of me.”

  He stepped closer, grazing my cheek with an icy finger. “Was that his one condition to end that bitter war between him and your master? Stay away from those under his ownership. But you couldn’t resist, could you? No, after years of atonement, you dared to defile one of his precious, sacred Grays. Though I’m sure that was his plan all along.”

  A hand brushed my hip, knocking me off-balance, and I found myself staggering out of Dmitri’s reach. Dublin stepped forward, filling the space I’d left behind.

  “Touch her again and I’ll keep the arm,” he promised as casually as most men might comment on the weather. “And the next time I choose to hunt you down to whatever corner of the world you’ve run to, you’ll owe me more than just a favor.”

  “Fair enough.” Dmitri met the cold expression directed his way with a surprisingly chilling one of his own. “But now, down to business.” He clapped his hands, all smiles once again. “When do we leave? Dare I request we take my jet? It’s climate controlled—”

  “Is there a point you’re trying to make?” Dublin countered.

  Dmitri blinked. “Why yes, I suppose I did forget to mention that particular detail. Those friends of yours… Well, they’ve decided to launch an attack here, on this very estate you think no one else knows about. Right…n
ow.”

  As if to accent his words, a sudden barrage of noise resonated in the distance. Shouting?

  “Go get dressed.” Dublin shoved me toward the stairs and I didn’t hesitate.

  Once in my room, I snatched a dress at random from the closet and pulled it on while staggering down the stairs. I had to have been gone less than a minute, yet Dublin was already dressed, appearing by my side as if from thin air.

  “Stay close.” He took my arm, tethering me to his side as two armed men came from the shadows to flank our position. His calm demeanor warned me that they worked for him.

  Had they been here all this time, lurking out of sight?

  “I see you decided to play him at his own game,” Dmitri remarked. He grinned, apparently entertained by the air of urgency. “Using your own human pawns. Certainly creative if not necessarily prudent. May I suggest again that we take my jet—”

  Dublin pulled me forward, and within seconds, we were exiting from the front door. I didn’t know what to expect as I took in the scenery waiting beyond. Weak daylight filtered down through storm clouds, adding a silvery sheen to the breathtaking landscape—but despite Dmitri’s warning, there was no one else in sight.

  Apart from Dublin’s driver standing at the ready.

  Not particularly hurried, Dublin guided me into the waiting car and the driver sped off. Every now and again, however, he spared a wary glance at the figure seated beside him.

  Somehow, Dmitri had insinuated himself into the passenger’s seat. Occasionally, he decided to provide casual commentary. “Again, I must insist we take my jet.”

  Dublin seemed murderously determined to ignore him, glaring from the window instead. Eventually, we reached a remote area where the hills gave way to grassy lowlands and desolate fields. In the distance, I made out the shape of a building on the horizon. An airport hangar?

  No sooner did the thought cross my mind before—

  Light. Noise. Bang!

  A tremor rattled the earth. I screamed as the driver swerved severely to stay on the road. Dublin flung his arm over my hip, pinning me in place until the motion subsided. Just as the driver righted himself, black clouds began to billow over the horizon. Smoke. Soon after, tendrils of orange flame licked at the sky as if alive.