Bound by Blood and Sand

by Becky Allen

  “All those required to be in attendance are here present,” the torchbearer said solemnly. “Let whatever blood is shed this night be done with honor.” And so saying, he returned to his place in the circle.

  A low, keening wind sprang up, rattling the leaves of the trees. The torches flickered erratically, sending dancing shadows across the ground.

  Drake stared at his opponent. He could almost taste Lucien’s fear, his reluctance to fight. “Yield to me, Lucien, and I will spare your life.”

  Drake had no doubt that, had Nadiya not been present, Lucien would have surrendered.

  Lucien wiped his palms on his trousers. Opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. With a mighty cry, he lunged at Drake, his sword hissing through the air.

  Uttering a battle cry of his own, Drake brought up his sword, parrying Lucien’s thrust. The ringing sound of metal striking metal rose in the air, along with the dust stirred by the combatants. Lucien circled Drake warily, testing the strength and mettle of his opponent. He roared with triumph when his blade found its mark and he drew first blood.

  Drake paid little heed to the pain of the wound or the blood running down his arm, his only thought to destroy the man in front of him, to reclaim the Fortress that was rightfully his, to protect the women he loved. So long as he lived, they lived.

  Spurred by fear, Lucien lunged and parried frantically.

  Drake fought coolly, slowly wearing down his opponent. He had no thought for those who watched. No thought for his wounds. For this moment in time, Elena and Kaitlyn had ceased to exist. There was only Lucien and the need to destroy him.

  Sensing defeat, Lucien made a last bold lunge, his sword coming up hard and fast, only to be deflected by Drake’s blade.

  Howling with fear and fury, Lucien backpedaled, his sword swinging wildly from side to side.

  Certain of victory, Drake spun in a circle, feinted left, charged right, and drove his sword into Lucien’s heart. Lucien staggered backward, his sword falling from his hand, a look of surprise spreading over his face as he fell to his knees, then toppled sideways to the ground.

  A collective gasp rose from those watching as Drake swung his blade again, cleanly severing Lucien’s head from his body.

  But there was little time for victory. He had scarcely wiped the blood from his sword when Stefan shouted, “Behind you!”

  Drake ducked and whirled around as a sword whistled past his head. With a cry, he plunged his sword into his attacker’s heart, then spun around as another man charged toward him.

  Men began to appear out of the trees on all sides. The air rang with the sounds of battle as Drake’s brothers engaged Lucien’s kin.

  During a brief lull, Drake searched for Nadiya, but there was no sign of her. And no time to worry over her whereabouts as another of Lucien’s people lunged at him.

  The air reeked of blood and death by the time Stefan dispatched the last of Lucien’s men.

  There was little conversation as the victors made sure their foes would not rise again. One common grave served as the final resting place for the deceased.

  When all was done, Drake led the way up to the Fortress. Apparently word of Lucien’s defeat had preceded Drake’s arrival. The massive front door stood open. None of Lucien’s kin remained.

  As those who had fought with him entered the Fortress, Drake thanked each of them in turn for their assistance. And then, with little thought for the wounds he had sustained or the blood dripping on the floor, he called home.

  Elena sighed as she closed her cell phone. Murmuring, “He’s all right, thank the Lord,” she sank down on the sofa next to Kaitlyn. “He’ll be home soon. He’s going to stay at the Fortress until Andrei can get there. Stefan and Ciprian are notifying Northa and the others in case they want to return.” She smiled through the tears of joy shining in her eyes. “The rest of his brothers are getting in touch with their families so they can all move back to the Fortress.”

  Kaitlyn threw her arms around her mother. “That’s wonderful news!” She looked up at Zack, who had been adding wood to the fire. “What’s wrong?”

  “Did Drake mention Nadiya?”

  “She’s disappeared again.” Elena’s smile vanished as she looked at Zack. “You don’t think she’ll try something else, do you? Not after this?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem like the kind to give up. On the other hand, she’s lost three sons, and she no longer has Lucien to fight her battles.”

  “Well, I’m not going to worry about her anymore,” Kaitlyn said. “I have a wedding to plan.”

  Apparently the word wedding possessed some kind of magical properties, Zack mused. The smile returned to Elena’s face and the next thing Zack knew, the two women had their heads together, talking about dresses and veils, what kind of flowers to order for the church, and what kind of a bouquet Kaitlyn would carry. Flowers weren’t part of vampire weddings, but Kaitlyn and Elena had decided to overrule Drake’s objections and ignore coven tradition. Kaitlyn wanted flowers and a church wedding, and that’s what she was going to have.

  Zack frowned. The last time he had been inside a church had been for Colette’s funeral. When he’d proposed to Kaitlyn, he hadn’t given any thought to where they would get married. He had foolishly assumed they would just fly to Vegas for the weekend, get married in one of the chapels, then take an extended honeymoon in Italy or France. He grunted softly. So much for that idea. It was obvious that Kaitlyn wanted a big wedding—long white dress, flowers, bridesmaids. He grimaced. A groom wearing a tuxedo. The whole nine yards.

  Looking at the excitement in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, he figured it was a small price to pay to make her happy.

  Until the next night, when he realized that, as long as Nadiya was still a threat, he was going to have to act as chaperon while the ladies went shopping.

  Of course, every cloud had a silver lining, and this one came in the form of a blue Porsche Panamera 4S. The Sherrad family seemed to have a thing for Porsches, Zack mused. And this one was a beaut.

  “I know you two want to gab,” Zack said as he opened the rear door for them and bowed them inside.

  Moving around to the driver’s side, he slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. He grinned as the engine purred to life. The Panamera was a sweetheart of a ride, able to go from zero to sixty in four-point-eight seconds and reach a speed of a hundred and seventy-five miles. Although he was itching to put the car through its paces, now wasn’t the time, not when Kaitlyn and her mother were in the backseat.

  He put the car in gear and headed down the mountain. The Porsche took the curves with ease; the low hum of the motor like music to his ears. He couldn’t help feeling a moment of regret when, all too soon, the city came into view.

  At any other time, he would have dropped the women off and waited in the car, but recent events were too fresh in his mind. After parking the car, he escorted them to the bridal shop, then stood near the door, arms folded over his chest, while they picked out a dozen dresses for Kaitlyn to try on.

  He opened his preternatural senses while he waited, grinned as he caught snatches of conversation from the dressing room.

  “You look beautiful. . . .”

  “How about this one?”

  “. . . need a smaller size . . .”

  With a shake of his head, he stepped outside and glanced up and down the sidewalk. Only a few people were on the street, mostly couples coming from the direction of the movie theater. No scent of vampires, Romanian or any other kind. No hint of danger.

  Returning to the shop, he took a seat on a chintzcovered sofa, and waited. And waited. Just when he thought he’d have to go in after them, Kaitlyn and her mother emerged from the dressing room.

  Zack frowned when he saw they were both emptyhanded. “No luck? Don’t tell me we have to do this again.”

  “No.” Kaitlyn kissed him on the cheek. “I found the perfect dress. Well, it’ll be perfect with a little altering. The seams
tress said it will be ready next week.”

  “Wait until you see your bride in that gown,” Elena said, smiling. “She’s gorgeous.”

  “She’s already gorgeous,” Zack said, winking at Kaitlyn.

  “I found a veil, too. And everything else I’ll need for the wedding.” She smiled at him, her cheeks turning pink. “And the wedding night.”

  “Really?” he asked with a wicked grin. “Something black and slinky?”

  “Zack!”

  “Come on,” he said, laughing. “Let’s go home.”

  The next week passed peacefully. The day after the battle, Andrei, Katiya, and their children returned to the Carpathian Fortress, along with Ciprian and Liam. By right of battle, the Italian Fortress and everything in it now belonged to Drake. Four days after Lucien’s defeat, Stefan and Liliana moved into the Italian Fortress, along with a number of Liliana’s daughters and their families. On the fifth day, nearly everyone who had once resided at the Carpathian Fortress had returned.

  Three days later, Drake returned to Wolfram Castle. He hugged Kaitlyn, shook Zack’s hand, then swept Elena into his arms and carried her swiftly up the stairs to their bedroom.

  “So,” Zack said, looking at Kaitlyn, “what do you want to do tonight?”

  “As if you didn’t know,” she replied with a wicked grin.

  “Yeah, well . . .”

  “I’ll bet any other man would be happy to take me to bed.”

  “If any other man tries, I’ll break his neck.”

  “Zack! You’re making me crazy.”

  Crazy, he thought. That’s exactly what he was. He loved her. She loved him. They were getting married soon. What was he waiting for?

  “Listen, Katy, I don’t expect you to understand this, but I was brought up in a different era, a time when men didn’t touch their brides until the wedding night.”

  “Are you saying men and women were all virgins back then? Because I don’t believe that for a minute.”

  “Of course not. But men went to prostitutes before they were married. And some long after. I guess I’m more old-fashioned than I thought,” he muttered ruefully.

  “All right,” she said with an exaggerated sigh of exasperation. “I’ll stop trying to seduce you. But, mister, you’d better be worth the wait!”

  They went looking at churches the following night. Zack and Kaitlyn sat in the backseat of the Porsche, stealing kisses, while Drake drove to the first church.

  “This one is beautiful,” Elena remarked.

  “And very old,” Drake said as they approached the entrance. He glanced at Zack over his shoulder. “I never thought to ask. Are churches a problem for you?”

  “No.”

  With a nod, Drake opened the carved front door and stepped inside. Elena, Kaitlyn, and Zack followed on his heels.

  It was a lovely old church, with arched ceilings and stained-glass windows. Candles burned on either side of the high altar. Baskets of fresh flowers, undoubtedly left over from a recent wedding, or perhaps a funeral, filled the air with a sweet fragrance. The wooden pews glowed with a patina of age.

  “I love it,” Kaitlyn said, glancing around. “Zack?”

  “If you like it, I like it.”

  “Any point in looking anywhere else?” Elena asked.

  “No.” Kaitlyn shook her head. “I want to be married here.”

  “All right, then,” Elena said cheerfully. “I’ll call tomorrow and make the necessary arrangements.”

  Drake and Elena left the church, their heads together.

  Zack caught Kaitlyn by the hand when she would have followed.

  “What?” She looked up at him. “You don’t want to get married here?”

  “I just wanted to kiss my bride. Do you mind?”

  “What a silly question.” She moved into his arms, went up on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his. “Your bride,” she murmured, smiling up at him. “I like the sound of that. Just think, soon I’ll be Mrs. Zackary Ravenscroft.”

  “Not soon enough,” he growled.

  Chapter 38

  The ringing of his cell phone brought Zack instantly awake. Sitting up, he grabbed the cell from the nightstand and checked the display.

  “Scherry. What’s wrong?”

  “Zack! The club . . .”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s gone.”

  “Gone? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Someone burned the place down early this morning. There’s nothing left.”

  He frowned as he considered her words. “Are you saying it wasn’t an accident? That someone did it deliberately?”

  “Yes. The fire department said someone broke in shortly after dawn and torched the place. The fireman I talked to said it was the work of a pro.”

  “Did anybody get hurt?”

  “No. The club was empty.”

  “All right. What time is it there?”

  “Six P.M.”

  He grunted softly. Romania was ten hours ahead of Nevada. “All right. I’ll be there sometime tomorrow night. Reserve me a room at Harrah’s under an alias. Get one for yourself, too. I’ll call you when I get there.”

  “Who do you think did this?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve got a pretty good idea. Tell Walls and Lautner to lay low until they hear from me. That goes for you, too.”

  “All right, Zack. I’ll see you tomorrow night. And Zack . . . be careful.”

  “You, too, kid.”

  Zack closed the phone and tossed it on the nightstand. He sat there a minute, lost in thought. There was no way to prove it, but he would bet his last dollar that Nadiya was behind the fire. She might not have lit the match, but he’d bet she knew who did.

  He had no sooner ended the call than Kaitlyn opened the door and peeked inside. “Zack?”

  “What are you doing up?”

  “I heard your phone ring. . . .”

  “Come on in, nosy, and close the door.”

  His gaze moved over her as she tiptoed toward him. Clad in a sleeveless long white gown that fluttered around her ankles, she looked like a raven-haired apparition as she glided across the floor toward him.

  “I’m not nosy,” she said defensively. “But good news doesn’t come at four in the morning.”

  “You’re right about that.” He patted the bed, inviting her to join him. “Somebody burned down the casino this morning.”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide. “That’s terrible! Wait a minute. Are you saying someone did it deliberately?”

  “Right the first time. Any guesses on who did it?”

  “You don’t think Nadiya . . .”

  “Who else?”

  “But why? She doesn’t know you killed Daryn and Marius.”

  “I think she’s got a pretty good idea that I had something to do with Daryn’s death.”

  “So, you think she’s in Tahoe?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. I’m going home tomorrow.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “As long as it takes. I need to talk to the fire department, find out what they know. Get in touch with my insurance company. See about getting the mess cleaned up. Call the architect who built it the first time.”

  “But . . . we’re getting married next Saturday.”

  “Right. How do you feel about getting married in Tahoe?”

  She blinked at him, and then shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter where we get married, as long as we get married. But . . . what about my mom and dad?”

  “They can come with us. Hell, the whole family can come along.”

  “Our marriages are usually private affairs, with just the immediate family present.” Of course, she’d already strayed from tradition by insisting on flowers and a church wedding.

  “Really?”

  Kaitlyn nodded. Weddings among her kind were not the romantic affairs of books and movies, since most marriages were arranged by the parents of the bride and groom.
There was no music, no flowers, no reception afterward. At the Fortress, marriages were solemnized by the Master of the Coven. She wasn’t sure if that was legal in Nevada, but it didn’t matter. Wherever they were, her father would perform the ceremony.

  She made a soft sound of contentment when Zack drew her into his arms. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  “I’m kinda looking forward to that myself.” He hugged her close, his tongue sliding over her lower lip, slipping inside to mate with hers.

  She was like a flame in his arms, igniting his desire, burning away all his good intentions. Her hands moved over his shoulders and down his arms, testing the strength of his biceps, then slipping under his T-shirt, her fingernails raking his chest, his back, sliding down to the waistband of his sweats. Every touch aroused him more.

  “Katy . . .”

  She covered his mouth with hers, swallowing his protest.

  With a low groan, he surrendered to the need that would no longer be denied. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her fervently, his desire growing as his tongue dueled with hers. He took his mouth from hers only long enough to pull her nightgown over her head. He stared at her, speechless. She was beautiful from head to foot. Her skin was lightly tanned and perfect, her waist narrow, her hips nicely rounded, her legs long and shapely. He quickly rid himself of his T-shirt and sweats, then stretched out beside her.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked.

  “You are.” Kaitlyn rose on one elbow, her stomach fluttering as she admired his muscular arms and chest, his long legs and flat belly. “Definitely beautiful,” she murmured.

  “You think so?” Slipping an arm around her, he buried his face in her cleavage. “So soft,” he murmured. “So warm.”

  A needy moan rose in her throat as he nuzzled her breast. “Zack . . .”

  He drew her into his arms, molding her body to his. The gentle abrasion of skin against skin aroused him still more. But it was the scrape of her teeth against his neck that carried him past the point of no return. Pleasure engulfed him as she drank. Only a taste, but it was enough. It heightened his desire and his thirst, made him forget everything but his need for this one particular woman above all others.