“This has all been a misunderstanding!” I called out to the group of men approaching, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Get out of the way, Portia,” Vance growled from behind me.
“No,” I said firmly, determined to protect the people who were unknowingly threatening something they couldn’t possibly comprehend.
“Kill him!” one of the warlocks yelled out and suddenly there was an onslaught of magic coming straight for me.
Vance shoved me to the side and he easily deflected the magic, sending it in a rolling shockwave back toward them.
The men only had a moment to register a look of surprise before diving for cover and I heard them shout a few words of distress.
“Val! Get them out of here!” I shouted to the witch who was now huddled up against the wall.
Vance didn’t let up, instead unleashing a streaming arc of flame, igniting pretty much everything in the alleyway on fire, including the objects which the others were hiding behind.
“What are you doing?” I screamed, and I felt another surge of energy roll through him as he prepared to attack again.
I popped behind him, shoving with all of my might. He stumbled forward before he turned to face me. Out of the corner my eye I saw Val and the others scrambling to get out of the inferno ridden alley.
“You pushed me!” he said incredulously, a surprised look on his face.
“You're attacking innocents!”
“Don’t mess with me, Portia.” He lifted a hand sending an arc of energy at me so unexpectedly that it caught me off guard, throwing me up against the wall.
I crumpled to the ground, hearing Mayla’s laughter sounding in my ears and I quickly fought to regain my footing.
Vance turned back to look for the others and I evaporated behind him, placing my hand against his back, my arm trembling violently.
“If you try to go after them I will have no choice but to ice you.” My voice shook. “You aren’t immortal anymore, Vance. I would think about it—carefully.”
A force of power hit me from behind sending me sprawling into Vance and he went flying too. The pavement bit into the skin on my arm as I hit the ground hard, ripping the flesh from it. I cried out as the blood sprayed. This instantly roused Vance who had fallen next to me and he was on me faster than I could blink, wrenching my arm toward him as he went for the bite.
His razor-like teeth sank hard into the wound. I yelled out, wishing to be back at the bunker with Hex and I dissolved, returning back to my place of refuge.
Hex answered the door immediately. All the lights were glaring and I knew he’d been awake, waiting for me.
“Well?” he asked as I strode into the space, holding my damaged arm cradled next to my body.
“It didn’t go well.” I walked over to the sink to turn the water on. I cleaned the road rash on my arm while I filled him in on the details.
“He’s taunting you. You're aware of that, right?” Hex asked when I was finished.
“Yes.” I sighed. “I just don’t understand why. Mayla's encouraging him to kill me, and he seems both willing and reluctant at the same time. It makes it hard for me to read him.”
“I think his attraction for you is making the decision difficult.”
“Well I certainly hope so!” I said grouchily. “It’s the best weapon I seem to have right now in my arsenal.”
“Why did you go to him unprepared?” he asked as he took in my appearance.
“There wasn’t time to change. It was either wear this or let the girl die in my place.”
Hex nodded and frowned at me. “You need to keep the mental barriers up. When you let them down you give him the opportunity to manipulate you.”
“I'm quickly beginning to understand that.” I answered, going to sit dejectedly on the sofa.
Hex came over with a first aid kit and began to bandage my arm. He didn’t speak while he worked, thankfully. I knew he was angry with me.
“Let’s get some sleep and we will discuss this in the morning,” I said when he was finished, suddenly too tired to continue.
“Okay, but no more popping out of the bunker tonight!”
“Not a problem,” I replied.
Chapter 22
I got up early and the spent the morning in the gym with Hex. We worked hard for several hours on the art of physical fighting. His style was a blend of many cultures, incorporating the things he liked best from all over the world.
My favorite was the kickboxing, and a couple of body slamming moves which I'd teased him about, saying he must’ve picked them up from watching world class wrestling.
He didn’t think that was very funny. He berated me for not taking things seriously enough, but I knew he was worried about my plans to place myself into the lion’s den again. I'd informed him I still intended to go to Vance even after everything that had happened last night.
I actually wasn’t too worried about it. I felt much more mentally prepared this time around. Who knew how Vance would react to everything, but I knew as long as he couldn’t touch me, he couldn’t hurt me. Of course, it was the not touching him part that always seemed to get me into trouble.
Hex left after lunch to go pick up my family. After he was gone I proceeded to shower and carefully groom myself, taking extra care with my hair and makeup. I promised Hex I would wear the fighting clothes he bought me, and he'd armed me to the teeth on my utility belt.
Not one ounce of nerves bothered me while I was getting ready, but now that it was time to go I began to feel jittery. I took a deep breath and concentrated on bringing my emotions under control.
“You are the empowered one today. Take control of the situation,” I said to myself, repeating the words Hex was constantly saying to me during our training together.
I made up my mind earlier I would focus on transporting to Vance’s bedroom again, instead of going directly to Vance. This could alleviate a potential problem of popping up somewhere less desirable, like in a public place or in the middle of a demon coven. I never knew what he could be out doing.
I didn’t close my eyes. I wanted to be completely aware of what was going on around me as I entered his space. Taking a deep breath, I envisioned sitting on the foot of his bed.
The weightlessness overtook me immediately, followed by a cool prickling of my skin and I found myself in the very place I'd asked to go. I looked around quickly, my senses on full alert.
He wasn’t here.
I stood and walked to the window, looking out to see if I could tell anything about where I was located. This was definitely a private residence, not a hotel. The grounds looked vast, and I popped outside to observe the house.
The structure was a turn of the century southern mansion. It looked like the kind of home people would pay to tour. I saw no activity of any kind on the grounds, and while Vance was not here at the time, I was positive he was on his way. He would have felt me immediately.
I popped back into the bedroom, and stealthily made my way out of the door. The place was deathly still and I was pretty sure no one was around, but I was determined to not be caught off guard.
To my surprise, I found the rest of the furnishings in the house were all covered in dust cloths. Apparently, the house had been vacant for a while, if one was to judge from the amount of dust gathered. Vance must've decided to borrow the place while the owners were away.
I moved from room to room by evaporation so I could be as noiseless as possible. Each one appeared to be as undisturbed as the next, until I reached the kitchen.
The first thing I saw was a jar of peanut butter next to a bag of bread, and I smiled quietly to myself. He was still eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. That was my Vance.
I walked across the large space to open the refrigerator, looking to see if he still preferred grape jelly as well. I gasped at the sight inside.
While the grape jelly was indeed sitting in the middle of the top shelf, it was surrounded by pints and pints of blood. I no
ticed then they were labeled and I leaned in closer to read what was on them.
“Female, age 18,” I read out loud on the first one and all of the subsequent bottles directly behind it where from the same donor. “Male, age 32.” I felt sick. It was like he was labeling the vintage of the blood.
I counted each different donor and found thirteen in total. This was the blood of the coven he killed, all packaged up nicely in his fridge. Gross. Maybe this meant he hadn’t killed anyone else though.
“If you're looking for something to drink, I think you might prefer the tap water,” Vance’s voice floated into the room from behind me.
I wanted to kick myself for being so absorbed in the contents of the refrigerator that I'd allowed him to sneak up on me. Slowly, I turned around to face him, shutting the door to the icebox as I moved.
He was leaning casually up against the door frame, arms folded over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other. He looked completely like his old self … jeans, t-shirt, boots, and all of his normal facial features which I loved so much.
His blue eyes traveled up and down the length of me in appreciation. “You’re looking good, Portia. You’ve been working out,” he commented as if we were having the most normal conversation in the world.
I am the empowered one today. Take control of the situation, I said to myself mentally before I spoke.
“Thank you,” I replied politely, and I took a couple of steps toward him trying to appear bolder, stronger, and more confident as Hex had been teaching me. “And yes, I have been working out. I’m surprised you noticed.”
He let out a quick grunt. “It’s kind of hard not to notice when you’re wearing an outfit like that.” He pushed away from the wall, walking straight toward me. “You’ve been wearing a lot of baggy clothes lately.”
A sliver of trepidation slipped through me, but I steeled myself to it. I would not move away from him unless he tried to hurt me. My surprise was immediate though when he walked right past me, without so much as touching me, and opened the door to the fridge.
Slowly, I turned to follow his actions, not wanting to leave my back to him. I watched while he picked one of the jars of blood out and placed it on the counter. He then proceeded to the cupboard to retrieve two glasses.
He placed one glass on the counter before he carried the other over to the faucet and filled it with water. After he was done, he filled the glass on the counter with some blood.
“Do you care to join me?” he asked, taking a few steps toward me. He held the glass of water out as he nodded over toward the table.
“Thank you.” I accepted the water from him, and neither of us failed to notice the sparks when our fingers touched each other.
"Let’s sit down,” he suggested. He walked over to the table, pulling a chair out for me before he sat down in one of his own.
This situation had gone from nerve racking to bizarre. It was as if nothing was wrong between us. He was acting like he was in complete control of his emotions, even to the point of being sophisticated. It reminded me of someone else.
Damien, his father, I realized suddenly.
“You've been drinking blood—lots of it.” I sat down, watching him carefully. I remembered how Krista told me the Cummings’s secret had been to constantly be consuming blood. It helped them maintain better control of the demon bloodlust.
“This is true.” He tipped his head back to take a large swallow from his glass. “As a matter of fact, I was out stalking a pretty little dark haired witch down the road when you showed up here and ruined all of my plans. I enjoy having a hot lunch once in a while. It just isn’t quite as good when it is cold.” He eyed his glass with a look of disgust before he continued. “I’m certain she would've been a feisty one too. It's always more fun for me when they fight back a little.” His eyes flickered over my body once again.
I was angry with myself for the moment of jealousy I felt as I listened to him talk about the other girl.
He read me instantly. “Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t want her in that way. I’m afraid when it comes to sex you’re the only person I'm interested in. I've been one hundred percent true to my marriage vows in that department. Not that it’s doing either of us much good lately,” he said, and I felt the heat behind the meaning in his gaze.
“This hasn’t exactly been my lifestyle of choice either,” I reminded him a bit harshly.
“So what're we going to do about it?” he asked, taking another sip of blood from his glass.
“I don’t know. I, personally, would like to see you give up this demon lifestyle and try to get some help somehow.”
“Not going to happen,” he replied flatly while he watched me.
“Then I guess we're at an impasse.” A thread of regret shot through me.
“I guess we are,” he agreed. He quickly tossed back the rest of the contents in his glass before he stood, going back to the counter to refill some more. He placed the pint bottle back into the fridge when he was done. “I’m going upstairs now. Do you care to join me?”
“Why not?” I stood to follow him, leaving my untouched glass of water on the table.
He stood at the doorway and waited for me to pass him, just like any gentleman would, but it made me extremely nervous to walk up the large staircase with him following so close to my back.
I could feel his gaze on me, but I tried not to let my nerves show and attempted to keep him involved in casual conversation. “So how did you end up in this house?” I asked, running my hand over the beautiful mahogany railing.
“Someone in the coven told me about it actually. I guess it's been vacant for a while. Apparently there was an older couple who lived here. The husband died and the wife moved away to live with her kids.”
“So you decide to just help yourself to the place since no one was here?” I asked a bit accusingly.
“Portia, Portia,” he said with a slight shake of his head while he stepped past. He turned to look at me when we reached the landing. “Why are you always trying to think the worst about me? I’m not a squatter. I bought the place.”
“This is your house?” I was floored.
“Yep. It’s amazing how money can talk, isn’t it? I walked into the real estate office and told them I’d pay cash above the asking price for it, but they had to close the deal in two days or I would call it off. I received the deed this morning,” he said, looking around.
“What could you possibly want an estate this big for?” My eyes were wide in amazement.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I'll turn it into a bed and breakfast for traveling witches and warlocks,” he said with a wink and a grin.
“Why? So you can give them a bed and they’ll be your breakfast?”
He laughed then. “Yeah, something like that.” He turned to head toward the bedroom.
“You’re sick,” I said, following after him.
“Hey, you’re the one who thought of it, not me.”
“Oh, you were thinking it,” I said, and he laughed again.
“You’re right, I was.”
I loved hearing his laugh even though it was over such a morbid subject. It made him sound like the old Vance to me.
I entered the door into the bedroom and watched while he placed the glass of blood on the nightstand. Then he turned to face me.
“So why are you here? I thought for sure I scared you away permanently the last time you showed up.” His eyes trailed seductively over my body as he spoke.
“I thought you had too,” I replied, remembering how terrified I’d actually been.
He stepped closer to me, and I was proud of myself for being able to stand my ground.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded, moving to close the gap between us even more.
“I came to see you, of course,” I replied truthfully, my pulse jumping up a notch when he advanced closer still.
“Why?”
“Because I miss you,” I said, knowing that was the truth, ev
en if it wasn’t all of it.
“Are you sure that's why?” He narrowed his gaze at me. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact your family is arriving today?”
My face blanched at that remark. “What are you talking about?” I swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump which had suddenly formed in my throat.
A menacing look flashed briefly over his face before being replaced with his cool mask of composure.
“The first coherent thing I did after I was more in control of myself was to start keeping tabs on your family. I couldn’t find you or even feel you. I knew you’d contact them eventually and they would come running to your assistance just like always.”
My mind was racing as pictures of the worst kind ran through it. What if the members of the Hoodoo coven had already captured them and Hex? My loved ones could be being tortured and destroyed this very moment.
A wave of nausea passed through me and I was angry at myself for not being better prepared for this. Vance had always been smart. I knew he would've been watching for them to come. I just hadn’t thought he was watching so he could capture them. I figured he was looking for a way to find me.
My self-assured air faltered now, the bravado slipping from the role I’d been playing. “Please don’t hurt them,” I pleaded with him, hoping he hadn’t already.
“I haven’t … yet. But the rest is up to you and the choice you make right now.”
Chapter 23
“What choice?” I asked in a choked voice, my mouth going dry and I found myself suddenly wishing I had the glass of water left downstairs.
“There's a demon following your family and he's awaiting a signal from me. If he doesn’t get one—your family will be fine, if he does, he's to see that every last one of them is slaughtered, including the remaining members of the coven in Arizona who didn’t come.”
I realized with a sinking heart I’d never been the one in control of this meeting. He'd been expecting me all along. I swung my arm out, backhanding him hard across the face.
He barely flinched at my attack, but I saw a bit of fire shoot through his eyes, belying his calm exterior.
The Dark Rising Page 19
