by Cynthia Eden
“Swear it, Lorcan. Vow it to me on the blood.”
Lorcan’s gaze returned to Alerac. “I vow it,” he agreed.
The vampires hauled her away. Shackles were put around her wrists as Alerac watched, and something…broke in him. He lunged to his feet, roaring, as his beast pushed for freedom. He yanked the manacles from the wall.
The images vanished into a swirl of darkness.
For once, Jane preferred the darkness. Fear was acid in her gut, churning, destroying.
But the darkness didn’t last.
New images slipped before her. The dark haired vampire—Lorcan. She knew him now. Knew him through Alerac’s memories. He was the bastard who had imprisoned her.
Then he was before her. No, not before her, but before Alerac. Another vision, another one starring Lorcan. He was smiling his twisted, evil grin.
“I said you would get to live.” Lorcan bent and picked up the silver knife. “But I never vowed that you would not suffer.”
Another vampire yanked back Alerac’s head.
“I think I’ll start with your eyes,” Lorcan said. “After all, what good is a wolf who cannot see?”
The blade came toward him. The silver burned and cut and the pain rolled through him.
In her mind, Jane was screaming. She was crying. She was so desperate to escape that silver knife.
She didn’t see Lorcan any longer. She saw red—blood.
Then she saw nothing.
***
“No!” Jane reached for her eyes, sobbing. She’d been sentenced to a lifetime of darkness. She hadn’t meant—
“Jane?”
Her breath froze.
His fingers wrapped around her wrists. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t lower her hands. “I saw more of your memories.” She was sure starting to think that she was far better off without the knowledge of the past.
The past freaking terrified her.
Jane forced herself to take a deep breath. Then she lowered her hands. “Lorcan…”
“You saw him in the visions?”
Saw him, and would never be able to forget that SOB. He’d enjoyed hurting her—and Alerac. Jane nodded. “I saw what he did…to you.” She looked into his eyes, those glowing eyes that didn’t belong to a man.
But to the beast.
“He took your eyes.”
Alerac’s chest was bare. The sheet tangled around his waist. He leaned over her, caging her against the covers.
Her hand lifted to his cheek. “He took your eyes.”
He caught her hand. “Don’t worry, I plan to take a hell of a lot more from him.”
Was that supposed to make her feel better? It didn’t. “Is that why your eyes glow?”
“I lost the eyes of the man.” No emotion was in his voice. “When a werewolves shifts, the beasts heal our injuries. When I finally healed, the beast gave me even better eyes than I’d had before. Stronger. Sharper.”
Finally healed. “How long did it take you to heal?”
“Long enough.”
That wasn’t an answer.
“It doesn’t matter.” Now there was emotion sliding through his mask as he eased away from her.
She thought it did matter. “One hundred years.” That had been the punishment determined by Lorcan. “You searched for me, all that time?”
“No.”
She blinked.
“It was two hundred years. After you took the knife and stabbed Lorcan,” a wry smile curved his lips as he seemed to recall the memory, “he got pissed and upped your sentence.”
She’d stabbed the guy.
Good.
The two hundred years part? Not so good. Yet somehow that didn’t bother her as much as the fact that… “He cut out your eyes. I-I thought you were supposed to be protected.” The vampiress in her vision—Keira, me—she’d wanted to protect Alerac. Not get him tortured.
Alerac rose from the bed. He walked toward the closet.
Nice ass.
He hauled on a pair of jeans and destroyed her nice view. “You were more important than my damn eyes.” He turned back to face her. “My pack was coming. We had planned a dawn attack on the vampires. You should have still been there at the keep. They would have gotten you out. Gotten me free. I would have killed Lorcan—”
“Why didn’t you kill him?” She pulled the covers over her breasts.
His hand rose and pressed against the tattoo that covered his heart. “Because he was the only one who knew where you were. He sent men to hide you, to lock you up, and then his witch killed them.”
She didn’t remember meeting any witches, but, even so, the very idea of them was making her plenty nervous.
“I had to let Lorcan live as long as you were trapped. He was the only one that would be able to free you. That fuckin’ bastard. I dreamed of killin’ him, again and again.” His accent thickened a bit as his hand dropped. “Now I can. You’re safe, and he’s about to be minus a head.”
She hurried from the bed. “All of the other vampires—did you kill them for vengeance?”
Those images were still in her head, too. Alerac, soaked in blood. Alerac, feeding on them.
He stared back at her. “They were allied with Lorcan. I thought they might know where you were.” His lips twisted. “You aren’t the only one who can drink memories, you know.”
Her lips parted but she wasn’t sure what to say then.
“You changed me.” His voice was low. “I planned to use you. Fuck, you think I like admitting it? Seduce the vampiress, then use her to get inside the castle.”
Wasn’t that exactly what he’d done?
“Something changed.” He wasn’t touching her. She found that she couldn’t touch him.
I love you.
She’d told him that. When they were surrounded by vampires. When she’d traded her life for his.
But he hadn’t given her the same words.
“I planned to destroy all of the vampires in that clan, but not you. Not you. I was going to take you with me.”
“You’d had my blood.” And he’d realized that it made him stronger?
He gave a grim nod. “But more than that, I’d had you.”
“Alerac—”
Then she heard the shouts from outside. Angry. Desperate. In the next instant, she and Alerac were both running to the window.
The sun was still out, and it should have weakened her when she pressed open that glass.
It didn’t. Just as it hadn’t weakened her when she’d been on that motorcycle with him.
Because of his blood? Alerac had told her the truth. It sure seemed as if she’d built up some kind of immunity to the sunlight, thanks to him.
She saw Zoe and Finn. They were rushing toward the main cabin, with—with Heath between them?
“What the hell is he doing here?” Alerac demanded.
“Jane!” Heath shouted, looking up at that same moment. Blood dripped down his face and neck. “Help me!”
She started to race down to him.
“No.” Alerac wrapped his hand around her wrist. “He’s working for Lorcan.”
Heath looked as if he were dying.
Alerac’s gaze found hers. “We’ll see him together. I want to discover just what game the doc thinks he’s playing.”
“What if it’s not a game? What if he just needs help?”
“He sold you out before.” His eyes narrowed. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s a killing crime.”
She glanced back down at Heath’s slumped figure. To her, it appeared as if someone had already tried to kill him.
And, if Heath didn’t get help soon, he might not survive much longer at all.
Chapter Nine
Zoe and Finn dropped Heath on the floor. The doc hit the wood and moaned. A pitiful sound.
An annoying sound.
Jane attempted to hurry toward the guy.
Smothering a sigh, Alerac just blocked her path.
“Would you
stop that?” Jane snapped at him.
No, he wouldn’t, because he didn’t trust the guy. “You searched him for weapons?” Alerac demanded of Zoe and Finn.
Zoe glanced up at him. “No guns. No knives. No stakes.” Her nose wrinkled. “Just a bloody and beat-up human.”
“Where’d you find him?”
“He was dumped on the south side of our land,” Finn answered quickly. “Found him when I was patrolling to make sure Liam hadn’t come back.”
Dumped—or delivered?
“Pl-please…” Heath muttered. “Help…”
Jane shoved Alerac out of her way and knelt next to the doctor. She turned him over, and when she got a good look at his face, Jane gasped.
His nose had been broken. His left eye was swollen shut. Blood dripped from his mouth—aw, did the doc lose some teeth?—and gaping wounds covered his throat.
“He’s…insane…” Heath whispered. “You…you have to help me…”
Zoe and Finn were still standing close by.
“You need to be taken to a hospital,” Jane said. She looked over at Zoe. “We’re going to need a car to transport him.”
Heath grabbed her hand.
Alerac tensed. You’re about to lose that hand.
“N-no, hospital. I’d—I’d have to explain…the bites…”
“You’re hurt. You need help,” Jane told him. “You could die!”
“N-need blood…”
The hell, no.
Alerac marched forward. He grabbed Heath and hauled the guy to his feet. “Tell me that you’re not this much of a dumbass.”
The man blinked at him.
“You don’t seriously think,” Alerac continued, letting his disgust show, “that you can drag your carcass in here, after what you’ve done, and get blood from Jane?”
“D-dying…” Heath whispered pitifully.
“Bull.” The wounds actually seemed to already be…healing.
Healing as Alerac stared at them.
Suspicion churned in his gut. “You bastard.”
Heath tried to pull free.
Alerac wasn’t letting him go. “You were her doctor, her friend, for these last six months. She trusted you—and you…you took her blood, didn’t you?”
Heath was fighting to get free now.
Alerac turned his bright stare on Jane. “He took your blood.” Certainty. Rage.
She rose to her feet. After a moment, Jane gave a faint nod. “Samples. He said that he needed them for tests.”
Alerac shook his head. “No, he needed the blood for its power.” He lifted Heath up into the air, and the smaller man dangled above the floor. “You think I don’t know your type? Greedy, desperate, willing to trade anyone and everyone for the promise of immortality?”
Heath stopped looking quite so beaten. His lips twisted in a hard snarl. “Isn’t that what you did when you took her blood? Werewolves aren’t supposed to live as long as you have. You found out that vamp blood can extend your life. You found—”
Alerac’s claws were out. “This is the part where you die.”
“No!” Jane jumped forward. “Dammit, no!
Heath started to smile.
But then Jane continued, “We can’t kill him yet. We have to find out what he knows about Lorcan first.”
That wiped Heath’s smile away.
Alerac nodded. Then he said, “Finn, get some rope. I want to make sure this SOB is tied up tight.”
Heath was fighting now. Too late.
Jane stared at him, anger coursing through her veins. “You really were just going to sell me out that night, weren’t you? Just hand me right over to Lorcan—”
“Not to Lorcan, not then.” He huffed out a hard breath. “To the other werewolf.”
Rage nearly choked Alerac then. “Liam.”
A frantic nod from Heath. “H-he was the one I called. He arranged for the guys in those SUVs to meet us.” His words tumbled over each other. “Man, I swear, I didn’t even know Lorcan then.”
Then. Alerac dropped the bastard to the floor. “So when did you make Lorcan’s fine acquaintance?”
Heath didn’t rise from the floor. He curled in on himself. “A-after. The men who were left…they were trying to figure out how to get Jane—”
Alerac growled.
Heath flinched. “But Lorcan found us first. It was like hell came at them. Lorcan broke into the house, and he killed them all in seconds. Every last one. He took their heads.” A thick swallow. “Their organs.”
Same old twisted Lorcan.
“But he let you live?” The question came from a doubting Zoe. “Your story is crap.”
Heath’s head lifted. His eyes slid toward Jane. “He smelled your blood on me. He let me live because of that. I told him that we were friends. Th-that I could help him to find you.”
“No,” Alerac wanted to rip him apart, “what you told him was that you’d betray Jane, that you’d sell her out.” And he already had a pretty good idea of the price that Heath would have demanded. “Let me guess. You’re gonna trade Jane for immortality?” Probably a fat wad of cash, too.
Heath shook his head. “No! You don’t understand!” His eyes locked on Jane. “He doesn’t want to kill you! You’re part of his clan. He just wants you back.”
***
They’d taken the human inside.
Lorcan smiled. Either Jane would trust the doctor—or Heath would die.
When he’d first found Heath, the human had been so desperate. Crying. Begging.
Once, Lorcan had enjoyed it when his prey begged. Now it just bored him.
But he’d spared Heath because Lorcan had known that he could use the human as a distraction, at the right time.
The time is right now.
He lifted his hand to his throat. It still ached, but the pain was more of a memory. Lorcan had long ago grown used to pain—both giving it and taking it. He’d made sure that the doctor enjoyed plenty of pain before Heath had been allowed to venture to Jane’s side.
He knew what was happening inside that wolf pack. The betrayal. The battle.
Liam had turned on Alerac. He’d thought the two wolves were as close as brothers. But even a brother would kill you if there was enough power involved.
Lorcan had killed both of his brothers centuries ago. A witch had come to Lorcan long before he’d ever tasted his first sip of blood. She’d told him that his brothers were destined to destroy him.
He’d destroyed them first. As their blood had soaked the ground beneath his feet, he’d learned just how valuable a witch could be.
A witch’s power could change the world.
And the right vampire—he could rule the paranormal world.
Normally, he wouldn’t give a damn about werewolf politics, but Liam had crossed the line. He’d hurt Jane.
Twice, Liam had sent vampires after her.
My own damn kind. The knowledge still burned.
Those vampires could have killed Jane. They hadn’t realized just what an immense mistake they were making.
No one could kill Jane. She belonged to him. Not just as a clansman, but so much more.
He was the only one left who remembered the bond that had been forged so long ago. Perhaps it was time for him to enlighten the others.
For them to truly see that there was no hope for Jane and Alerac. The lovers weren’t going to get some romantic, happy ending.
It was too late for that.
Jane was already linked to another, through blood and pain, until death.
***
“He doesn’t want to kill you! You’re part of his clan. He just wants you back.”
Right. Jane didn’t buy that line for an instant. Not with the images of Lorcan still swirling in her mind.
Finn came back into the room, holding thick rope in his hands. Alerac dumped Heath into the nearest chair, and they tied him up tight. Tight enough to cut off the circulation.
Then Alerac backed up. He cocked a brow and glanced a
t Jane. “Want to go first?”
Yeah, she had plenty of questions for her friend. “How did you know to find me in that swamp?” When she’d been walking alone, covered in dirt and grime. Her mind broken. Her body convulsing from hunger. “It wasn’t some vacation trip. Some coincidence.”
Heath’s gaze glanced around, sweeping the room.
“Don’t expect Liam to come to your aid,” Alerac snapped at him. “The pack knows he’s a traitor. He’s been hunted now.”
Heath’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Tell me!” Jane demanded.
“L-Liam told me where to find you. Said he’d drunk the memory from some vamp years ago. The enchantment that held you prisoner was supposed to fall away this year, and he figured that if you were strong enough, you’d crawl your way to freedom.”
“Where was she?” Alerac’s voice was low.
In his binds, Heath shrugged. Some blood still dripped from his wounds. “All I know is she dug her way out of a grave in that swamp.”
A grave. “I was buried alive? All that time?”
Another shrug.
“How could even a vampire survive that?” Zoe asked as sympathy flashed across her face. “Wouldn’t you need food? Air? I mean, you breathe, right?”
“It was the spell,” Alerac said, voice wooden. “It locked in the air in her lungs, froze her body, and made it her prison. She could feel the bloodlust and hunger, but she couldn’t move.” His face was tight with fury. “Magic can do anything, if it’s strong enough.” Alerac yanked his hand through his hair. “Liam knew.”
Jane tried to focus on breathing. She’d been shoved in the ground somewhere out in that swamp, buried alive for all of those years? A prisoner, in her own body. I don’t want those memories back. Maybe that made her a coward, but she didn’t care. Screw the past. She was ready for the future.
“It was gift, you know?” Heath was staring at her now. “Once I went with Lorcan, I realized that.”
What? Now she was the one grabbing for Heath as she lunged forward. “Being imprisoned was a gift?”
“No.” His chin lifted. “Losing your memory was. You should thank Lorcan for that. He was merciful to you. If you’d kept those memories, you’d probably be insane.”
She was staring at someone insane. “Oh, I’ll be sure to thank him, all right.” She’d thank the bastard by taking his head. That’d really show her gratitude to the jerk.
