Vlad (Sons of Sangue Book 8)

by Patricia A. Rasey

  His brow furrowed. “Life goes on.”

  It pained her that he was so willing to move on without her. “You’ve said before that outsiders can’t know about you or the other vampires. You can’t hypnotize me into forgetting, Vlad. What about leaving me behind?”

  “Will you tell our secret?”

  “Of course not.”

  “And I believe you. To do so might mean my death and I know you would protect me as I would you.” He looked away. “My life, iubi… It’s complicated.”

  Janelle gripped his short-bearded chin and forced his gaze back. If he was going to tell her he was leaving, then he’d damn well look at her when he did so. “So, what? You’ll just walk away?”

  “There can’t be an us. Surely, you know that.”

  Moisture filled her eyes, but she held back the sting of his words. Janelle wasn’t one to beg, no matter how much it would hurt when he left. “You’ll say a final goodbye?”

  “I’m not an ogre.” Vlad swore a string of curse words before gripping her shoulders. “Christ, Janelle, I care. You have to know that.”

  “Then tell me how you feel, Vlad. Or am I just another fling?”

  He stood from the bed, giving her his muscular backside before stepping into his jeans. There was anger in his movements as he pulled them over his hips. Janelle had pushed him too hard. Her chest ached at his sudden retreat.

  Pulling the phone from his pocket, Vlad looked at the display then slid his thumb over the screen. Dialing a number, he then placed the phone next to his ear. “Where are you?” he asked.

  Really? He was going to ignore her now that she had demanded an answer? Obviously, she cared more about him than he was fond of her. Janelle slid to the side of the bed and padded through the bedroom and into the living room where she had left her clothes. Vlad’s mumblings carried to her ears, telling her he was still on the phone as she dressed. If she just left…

  “Where are you going?” Vlad stood shirtless, jeans hanging deliciously low on his hips, just beyond the bedroom door staring at her, phone gripped in his hand at his side.

  It angered Janelle how much she still cared and desired him, but she could no longer take their verbal dance. “It’s time, Vlad. You’re needed, I get that. But so am I. I’m a damn good special agent and it’s time I get back to my job.”

  Before she could grab the handle, Vlad stood between her and the door—faster than humanly possible. Even though she knew he had special abilities, it still startled her. Vlad could keep her from leaving, but instead of being forceful he ran a knuckle down her cheek.

  “I have to go, iubi. I missed Kane’s call, which is why I called him back. They found my brother’s vampires’ hideout. The Sons are waiting on me.”

  “Is your brother there?”

  He shook his head. “Kane feels as though he’ll show. They have captured one of his minions who’s agreed to lure Mircea there in exchange for his life. My brother’s curiosity will dictate his actions. He’ll show up.”

  Janelle wet her lips but remained silent.

  “You’ll wait?”

  Even though it pained her, she said, “I need to go home, Vlad.”

  “And I need you to be safe.”

  “I’ll be fine. Go find your brother.”

  “Promise me you’ll stay put.” When she didn’t agree, he said, “Kane has already sent Ryder on his way over to watch over you. He’ll likely be here before I’m even out of the building.”

  Janelle all but groaned over her weakness to refuse Vlad. She needed to stay, a glutton for punishment that she was, to see this through. Blowing out a shaky breath, she said, “Fine. I’ll stay put.”

  “We’ll talk when I get back.”

  Vlad turned, opened the door to the penthouse, and left. Janelle quickly bolted the door, though she doubted it would hold one of his kind. Suddenly hungry, she headed for the kitchen, hoping for something other than bags of blood to be stocked in the refrigerator. Otherwise, Vlad would be paying for room service from the lobby’s restaurant.

  Janelle was surprised to find an array of meats and cheeses, causing her stomach to growl. She pulled out the tray, along with a plastic jug of milk. Funny, she was actually thankful for the bit of time to herself. Since the beginning of this nightmare, Vlad hadn’t given her a moment of peace, scared of what his brother might do if he caught up to her. Used to living on her own, Janelle was accustomed to the solitude.

  Grabbing a glass from the open shelf, she then turned to the island where the milk sat. The glass slipped from her hand to the marble floor, sending shards of glass skittering across the marble tiles. Janelle gripped the stone countertop as the room she stood in began to fade and a vision took over.

  Mircea stood in front of her, all scary-as-fuck fangs and crazed-black gaze, a vampire nearly as big and muscular as Vlad. Before she could run, he grabbed her biceps and turned her, banding a forearm across her chest. Janelle fought against him to no avail. Though she had been trained and had taken men his size, he easily rendered her immobile. Gripping her chin, he tilted her head so she had no choice but to look into the mirror-like gaze of a psychotic vampire.

  Taking his free wrist to his lips, he sank in his long, white fangs and tore the flesh. Blood spurted from the opened vein before running down his arm to the worn-wooden flooring at their feet. Pulling down her chin and forcing her mouth open, Mircea took the open-wounded wrist to her lips. Metallic-flavored blood flowed past her lips and onto her tongue, making her nearly gag. Fire began to course through her veins. Dear, Lord, she felt as if she might internally combust.

  What’s happening?

  Janelle blinked and the vision faded, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the shards of glass.

  “What the hell?” she whispered to no one.

  The ding of the elevator brought her focus back to the now, and her gaze swung to the entrance. No doubt Ryder had arrived for babysitting duty. She’d bet he wasn’t too happy about drawing the short straw on this job. Janelle carefully stepped around the broken glass and headed for the entry when it imploded. The door sailed through the air aiming right for her. Janelle put her hands out to ward off the impact. Her thought right before she got run over by fifty-plus pounds of steel? This is going to hurt. And then her world went black.

  * * *

  A dim bulb swung from a thin, ratted cord, casting a soft glow about the dank and smelly cabin where she was being held. Janelle woke mere moments ago due to the stench, barely able to open her eyes without the room spinning and nausea setting in. Her head hurt like a son of a bitch, which spoke of a concussion, and the light wasn’t helping. Keeping her eyes closed helped, albeit a little. The last thing she remembered before everything went black was being hit by the steel door.

  Movement in the cabin and shuffling of feet had her lifting her heavy eyelids again. The man from her recent visions stood across the room, smiling. Vlad was correct, his brother was a nutcase.

  As luck would have it, Vlad hadn’t been able to locate the psycho, but she had. He stood mere feet away in what she thought was as an old abandoned hunting cabin, probably so far up in the woods no one would ever find them. She’d have to rely on her wits if she were to walk out alive. Mircea, no doubt, wasn’t about to let that happen and probably planned on using her to lure Vlad. Mircea wouldn’t kidnap her just to kill her. Nope, she was bait.

  “You’re awake.”

  His voice was deep, much like Vlad’s. Janelle could see a family resemblance, though Mircea looked more like a snake oil salesman. A bit smarmy. His hair was short and curled around his ears, but of the same rich color as his brother’s, shot through with a bit of gray.

  Janelle nodded in response.

  “Good.”

  He turned and opened one of the small windows, letting a small amount of fresh air into the cabin, little good that it did. Half the panes were either broken or missing, so it hadn’t made much of a difference. Night had fallen; the skies black beyond the window
. She shifted in the moth-eaten chair, unsure how long she had been out.

  By now Vlad was surely aware she had gone missing, Ryder no doubt arriving shortly after Mircea had taken her and found the broken entry with Janelle gone. At least Vlad would know she hadn’t left on her own and was possibly already out there looking for her.

  “What…” Janelle croaked before wetting her lips and trying again. “What are you planning on doing with me?”

  “My brother needs to pay for his years of arrogance.”

  “What’s that have to do with” —she tried to clear her dry throat— “me?”

  Mircea turned from the window and looked at her. Speaking of arrogance… He shrugged. “I want to make him suffer.”

  “Why?”

  The muscles in his cheeks tautened. “Because he imprisoned me.”

  “You’re free now.” Janelle noted she wasn’t tied to the chair, though it made little difference. He’d easily catch her, so she’d have to outwit him if she stood a chance of escaping. “Why can’t you two just kiss and make up?”

  Mircea moved so fast she hadn’t seen the slap coming. Her head jerked to the side. “The fool took what was mine and now I will take what’s his.”

  Janelle wiped the blood now leaking from her split lip with the back of her hand, then chuckled, minus the humor. “The joke’s on you. He doesn’t care what happens to me. Why do you think I was alone?”

  Mircea bent down close enough that his horrid breath fanned the fine hairs on her face. Janelle suppressed the urge to be the first to withdraw. “Mind backing up and giving me a little space?”

  “Aren’t you a sassy one? I’m surprised my brother has taken a shining to you. His normal MO is meek little things that easily jump into his bed.” He stood back and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Maybe that’s it. You’re a challenge to him.”

  “Why not let me go? I’ll find Vlad and bring him to you.” She turned her palms up. “Then we can all sit around like three adults and hash out this little family spat.”

  His smile returned with a chuckle. “His ego is far too big for there to be two of us.”

  “Two of you?”

  “Yes. Only one of us can be king of the vampires, the one to call all the shots. Since he has a few years of this blood-sucking life over me, not to mention the fact he turned me and not the other way around, that makes him superior. Everyone listens to him as if he’s a god. That is until I take his head.”

  “If you plan on killing him, then why am I here?”

  He tapped his finger to his temple. “Because what fun would there be in simply ending his life? I’d rather take what’s his and watch him go ballistic. And you, sweetheart, are what I think he holds dear.”

  “Back to that.” Janelle groaned, the headache not subsiding in the least. “I don’t belong to Vlad or anyone for that matter.”

  “No, but you will.”

  Her gaze snapped back to his, recalling her vision. Dear Lord in Heaven, this man thought to make her his by turning her. She would rather die before becoming one of his blood-drinkers. Janelle hadn’t asked for immortality, nor did she want it.

  “You can’t think to keep me. That’s kidnapping. I’m a DEA special agent. If I go missing, they’ll come looking for me.”

  He laughed maniacally, proving his insanity. No wonder Vlad wanted him dead. Mircea was beyond saving. “They’ll never find you. Another statistic, another unsolved missing person.”

  “You can’t keep me forever.”

  He rolled his eyes. At least she thought he did. It was hard to tell with his black orbs. “I wouldn’t dream of eternity. Christ, you’d drive me batty. I only plan to make Vlad believe it right before I kill him. Then, when I tire of you, I’ll bury you right alongside my dear brother.”

  “That will be a blessing.”

  Janelle didn’t see the second slap coming either. Much more and her lips would be the size of Grandpa Simpson’s. She really did need to curb the sarcasm. Her only chance in survival was Vlad finding them before her vision played out. If she kept this up, her brain would be scrambled long before the big guy arrived. Mircea obviously didn’t care what shape he left her in.

  Shaking her head, she attempted to clear the bit of fog trying to take residence in her skull. The last thing she needed was to black out. Mircea returned to the window. “What are you looking for? Do you expect your brother to find us so quickly?”

  “He already knows I favor these out of the way cabins.”

  “Surely, there are hundreds more like this in these woods.”

  He turned back around, his grin returning as if the last burst of anger hadn’t happened at all. “I let one of my vampires know where to find us. He’s already spoken with one of Vlad’s grandsons. Kane will believe he’s making a deal with my little vamp.”

  Holy shit! Vlad was being set up and walking right into Mircea’s trap.

  “He’s to let Vlad know where we are when I give him the okay. I’m keeping an eye out to make sure things aren’t expedited by him finding us on his own. I’d be a fool to let down my guard even a moment where my brother is concerned.”

  Janelle tested her balance as she slowly got to her feet and wobbly knees, using the chair to steady herself. She needed to find a way to escape, and soon. If fleeing no longer seemed like an option, she’d take her own life rather than become one of his minions. Death would be preferable over becoming his mate and spending any lengthy time with this psychotic.

  Grabbing an old rusty knife from the counter that looked as if it had been there for years, she aimed it at Mircea.

  His answering laugh mocked her. “Surely, you aren’t dumb enough to think you can kill me.”

  She had hoped he’d take the knife and end her instead. “Not at all.”

  Without her as leverage, Janelle was giving Vlad the advantage. His anger over her death would aid him in his mission to end this motherfucker’s life. Janelle had no doubt he’d be the victor. She turned the knife around and offered him the handle. “Why not just kill me and get it over with?”

  “Because I have other plans for you.”

  Her vision played through her head again. Janelle wasn’t about to give Mircea the chance to turn her. Taking the knife to her own throat, she said, “Like hell,” and meant to slice through the flesh and arteries, doing the damn job herself. Except … she hadn’t factored in Mircea moving faster than she could slice, not managing more than a hairline cut.

  The knife clattered to the wooden floor. Mircea stood precariously close, all fangs and crazy-eyed. Within the blink of an eye, he had her turned around with an arm banded over her chest. Janelle fought his hold to no avail. And just like in her vision, it was mere seconds before he had forced open her mouth and his blood flowed down her throat.

  “What the fuck have you done?” she cried.

  * * *

  What felt like hours later, but could have been mere minutes for all she knew, Janelle lay curled into a ball atop a grungy mattress, unable to care about the filth and dirt beneath her. The strong stench of must carried to her nose, causing bile to rise in her esophagus. Never had she experienced such physical suffering, draining her of the energy to move. The cramping of her muscles had made her limbs useless.

  Fire coursed through her veins.

  Mircea had forced his blood down her throat, his bitter blood still coating her tongue. Lord help her, Mircea had just sealed her to him for eternity when she was desperately in love with his brother. Mircea’s blood now flowed through her.

  The son of a bitch had won.

  Vlad’s image swam through her fever-induced brain, soothing her. The pain-driven hallucination was her only respite from the fact she had become Mircea’s mate. Vlad would no doubt be gutted from the knowledge…

  …making Janelle wish she had succeeded in taking her own life.

  Chapter 21

  “Where is she?”

  Vlad strode past the broken doorframe. His heart dipped to his stomach,
because he already knew the answer. The damage alone would’ve told him that his brother had been in his penthouse, even if his scent hadn’t been stamped all over the damn place. The nenorocitule knew how to mask his trail but he hadn’t bothered this time. No, he wanted Vlad to know he had been there, loud and clear.

  “I should have your fucking head!” he barked, wanting to destroy everything in his path. Right now that was his great-nephew, for having lost Janelle when Vlad trusted she was in his care for safe-keeping.

  “She was gone before I got here.” Ryder squared his shoulders, anger turning his gaze black. Long white fangs punched through his gums as he dared to snarl. He jabbed a finger at Vlad. “You’re the one who left her alone before I arrived, so don’t you put this on me, old man. This is the way I found your penthouse and I called you straight away.”

  Vlad jammed both hands through his hair, fear and frustration climbing up his spine, bringing out the asshole in him. Damn, but he wanted someone else to blame, as shouldering it meant he had been the one to majorly fuck up, putting Janelle in grave danger. He should have never listened to her when she told him to go, that she’d be fine.

  Jesus, she was anything but.

  Ryder was right, this was his own fault. He should have never left her alone, even for a second. In his haste to get to Kane and his obsession to find his brother he had failed Janelle in the worst way.

  The steel entry door lay in the center of the room, having flown a good twenty feet. Vlad knelt on his haunches, scenting blood—her blood. He flipped the metal panel to inspect the other side where a small crimson stain marred the pristine surface, right about the height of Janelle. Anguish and guilt washed over him, nearly crippling him. Vlad pictured Janelle hearing the ding of the elevator, expecting the arrival of Ryder, before she approached the entry and Mircea blew the damn thing inward.

  Vlad let go of the door, dropping it to the floor with a clatter. As he stood, his attention caught on the glint of glass shards scattered about the tiles near the kitchen island. A tray of meat and cheeses that had been brought up on his request from the lobby’s restaurant sat on the marble counter, alongside a jug of milk. Janelle had no doubt been preparing a bite when something startled her, causing her to drop the glass.