One night she flew through the London sky along the same path as the tube line he took home from his lab. He emerged from the station, and she hid in a doorway as he walked by. Several paces past, he stopped and turned around, rubbing the back of his head. His scent, like the sea air of Šolta, reached her nose and flooded her with longing. He scanned the street, but his eyes never settled on where she stood, cloaked in the shadows. He shivered, pulling his jacket tight, and marched away in a hurry.
The next night, she overheard him coaxing the vampires out for a night on the town. “The Ramones are playing at the Roundhouse. It will be epic.”
“Epically loud and sweaty,” one said.
“I like more meat on my humans than those punk rock waifs,” Omar agreed.
Bel went alone, and as usual, Uta followed.
She balanced on a third-story windowsill, confirming the other vampires’ assessment of the music and the scene. She expected Bel to be inside for a long time, but after only the second song, he exited with a woman in tow. The stupid sow was skinny and nearly as tall as Uta. Worse—she wore a short tangle of spiky hair—red.
May sweet Auntie Europa shrivel her ovaries into raisins.
Bel spun the woman and pressed her into the wall, kissing her. Uta’s chest ruptured with a pain like the proverbial stake to the heart. She cried out. He threw a glance over his shoulder, but the woman laced her fingers in his hair and pulled him back to her mouth. Uta plummeted to the sidewalk, rolling her ankle as she landed awkwardly. The crunch of her joint sobered her enough to keep her from killing the woman. This was the result of what she had wanted for him all along—the freedom to love others, so that if he came for her, it would be a choice.
But seeing him exercise that freedom tore apart her insides and shredded her heart. She gasped for oxygen, but it simply seeped out of her lungs, leaving her breathless. She clutched at her burning chest. Surely such pain proved he would never choose her.
With great effort, she had launched herself into the sky and flown directly to Loki’s chateau. The tendons of her ankle had knit back together quickly, but her heart had not healed. She’d lain down on a snow bank as the sun rose, its gentle caress rapidly turning into a searing burn that matched the fire in her heart. In the decades that followed, the desire to give up continued to tempt her.
And here in the present her suicidal tendencies were the only capital she could bargain with.
“Seeing him again will drive me straight into the sun.”
Loki snorted. “I am not so easily manipulated, child.”
Child? Patronizing old coot! “Go fuck yourself, Loki.”
He scrawled something on a sheet of paper and passed it off to the busty blonde he favored. “No thanks, I have household servants to do that for me. But poor you, Uta—you can’t fuck yourself and can’t get your mate to do it either.”
“I’ll scratch your eyes out,” she hissed.
“Don’t bother. Last time you tried that I healed in less than one minute and you ruined your suit.” He chuckled to himself as he straightened a stack of papers on his desk. Then he stood to his full five and a half feet, pinning her with his gaze. “I need you at Kaštel, Uta. All the vampires need you.”
She sniffed and nodded. She would do her duty, as always, no matter how much it hurt.
Chapter 8
BEL STORMED THROUGH THE CELLAR, as if distance from the computer screen were distance from Uta herself. But it didn’t work. She was inside him, and there was no escape.
Even in the musty damp of the cellar, his skin remained flushed from the sight of her and his humiliating, unwanted erection tented his pants. He closed his eyes, but her image lingered—her mane of auburn hair, her ivory skin. She was Aphrodite herself, with an unholy power over him. And with that poker in her hand, she was Diana too—a goddess of war and sex, all in one crass package. The heavy scent of wine barrels and damp cement cloyed his senses and the air become too thick to breathe. He raced up the stairs and emerged into the sunny foyer where he inhaled ragged breaths.
Dust motes glinted in the rays of light streaming through the windows. He’d been here before, in this exact pattern of light. The vision transported him back to that other, identical house of his childhood. To another day when he’d run from Uta. No, not quite. He’d run because Uta had sent him away, abandoned him when he needed her most. He’d run back to a house where his father lay mostly dead, wailing over the suicide of his wife, and where Kos fretted over Andre. No one had anything to spare for Bel, eleven and newly without his mother. And perhaps that was for the best, because if anyone had asked how he fared, he might have told the truth—that the loss of Uta’s friendship was more devastating than Mila’s death by far, something that still inspired a guilty lump in his throat.
Since that day, he’d never really been anything but alone, never belonged anywhere.
Someone knocked on the behemoth front door. Bel blinked, half surprised to find himself in California, not Šolta.
Goose bumps prickled over his skin. Hunters?
Whoever it was had to be unarmed since the shield was up. He cracked the door to find Lexi on the other side. He’d never been happier to see her, but bloody hell it wasn’t safe for her to be out there alone.
He swung the door open wide and grabbed her wrist, pulling her inside and into his arms. Here was the one person who, at least sometimes, had penetrated his loneliness. Holding her svelte runner’s body tight, he still hoped for a tremor of lust, a tingling in his cock.
Nothing.
“Um, Bel,” she said into his chest. “Why are you squeezing me like a boa constrictor?”
“Just happy to see you. Though I distinctly remember telling you to go home.”
“Since when do I take orders from you?” She tried for a light tone, but she didn’t fool Bel. Swallowing, she continued. “After you called, I turned on the radio.”
“Shite.” He’d hoped to ease her into this crazy vampire world. That they were real, that he was half of one, that in exile they suffered from a terrible disease—it was enough for one day. But she’d already guessed there was more. “The radio?”
“Those people in Indonesia. Drained of their blood. Was that—”
He pulled her toward an uncomfortable looking old chair and nudged her to sit down. “It was, I’m afraid. So was the attack on the religious compound north of Vancouver, and the fire in Santiago that wiped out an entire neighborhood.”
Her gaze darted around the foyer. “I thought you said the vampires were good, didn’t kill people.”
He knelt before her, holding her slim hands. “The people they killed weren’t exactly good, Lex. They were Hunters bent on exterminating all the vampires.”
“So it was some kind of self-defense? Those children…”
If only.
“No, it wasn’t. A rumor was leaked to the vampires, alleging that a Hunter’s blood will cure their disease, and maybe allow their bodies to tolerate the sun.” He swallowed, unsure how much to tell her.
“The sun?” She stared back with unblinking eyes.
Everything, then. He would tell her the whole story. “For weeks, the Hunters have been attacking vampires more ruthlessly, killing them and the humans in their households. Vampires are tense and afraid. Hunters raise their children to hate my kind, Lex. And the rumor clearly sparked the vampires’ desperation.”
My kind? The foreign sentiment caught him off guard and his chest tightened all over again. Lexi’s eyes widened, and he fixated on them—every speck and gradient of her irises familiar. How many times had he stared into them while making love to her? How many times had he driven them to tears by withdrawing into one of his bad moods?
But Uta had revealed all, and he had no more mysteries to brood over. Maybe he finally belonged to himself, finally could be what Lexi needed. If only he could get his dick to work. He certainly deserved her more than that preppy all-star douchebag of a fiancé.
Lexi brought her thumb to
her mouth and nibbled at the nail. “If the blood can heal them, wouldn’t they keep the Hunters alive?”
“It’s very possible they took hostages. No one knows for sure. The violence itself was nothing but retribution.”
“That’s awful.” She shook her head, thumb between her lips.
“It’s why the hemoaurum is so important. If vampires no longer suffer from the wasting disease, they can live anywhere, they can flee Hunters at any time. It won’t end the persecution, but it would take away the Hunters’ most powerful weapon, and the vampires wouldn’t be so desperate.”
He chose not to mention his secondary hypothesis because he had no freaking idea how to test it, short of breeding a new species of vampire guinea pigs. Present in both Hunter blood and Blood Vine, hemoaurum might be the very thing that bestowed sun tolerance. But first they had to be sure they’d isolated the X-factor that would make it work.
“Then let’s get to work.” She patted her messenger bag. “I’ve been studying the shape of the protein, and I can see many potential active sites where a cofactor might interact. I’m certain we’ve already isolated the one we need.”
“Woman, you are brilliant. Why did I ever let you go?”
When the familiar tears flooded her eyes, he kissed her. What else could he do?
Ten long years since his lips had touched hers. He begged the fire to ignite, for the spark to leap from his mouth right to his cock.
Instead, the cellar door crashed open and Andre emerged.
“Davo, Bel, stop that at once!” He rubbed his hands over his scalp like a man at a loss then dropped them and gave a little nod.
Lexi blushed, averting her eyes.
Inside, Bel shrank to the size of an embarrassed pre-adolescent.
“Alexandra,” his father said. “How lovely to see you. Welcome to my home.”
Bel’s teeth ground. Andre always had politeness to spare for a beautiful woman and zero for his own son. Bel fisted his hands and rose to his full height, his shoulders bunching up nearly to his ears.
“Son, we need to talk.”
“I’ll get to work.” Lexi stood and pointed at an open door. “This is the dining room, right? Can I plug my laptop in there?”
“Of course.” Andre smiled, flashing all his white teeth. But the tension in his eyes left the expression cool.
Lexi stiffened, but marched into the dining room on a mission. That was his girl—single-minded focus.
“I’m hungry. You want to talk? I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Andre growled, but Bel knew he would follow. Until two months ago, he’d refused to speak to his father for half a century, so Andre should be willing to take what he could get. Two, maybe three sets of footsteps sounded behind him on the stairs. Great—a family meeting.
Lena stood at the kitchen sink and jumped when he entered. Automatically, he glanced at her belly—flat—then at her pretty face. She smiled the very same half-assed smile Andre had flashed Lexi, and Bel understood instantly that she was not pregnant—round one of vampire conception had failed.
The Maras household was a real barrel of laughs today.
He strode to the fridge.
“Are you hungry?” she asked him. “What are you in the mood for?”
Normally, Bel wasn’t gracious about being waited on. He would gladly drink milk out of the carton and eat a handful of deli-sliced ham if she weren’t watching. But he’d learned Lena took satisfaction from feeding others.
“I don’t know. Got anything good?”
“I have homemade cherry pie.”
Bel could imagine several scenarios where he would willingly die for a slice of her cherry pie, which sounded like an absolutely filthy thing to think about his sister-in-law. But seriously, her pie was that good.
“Yes, please, and a glass of milk.”
“Sure.” She always tried to feed him more, but he just didn’t eat much—part of the whole halfling thing.
He managed a better smile that time, at the prospect of eating. When he turned toward the table, he found Andre, Kos, and Pedro all standing in the doorway.
“What?”
“You kissed Alexandra.” Andre crossed his arms over his chest.
Kos put his palm to his forehead. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Kos, she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. I drove her away by hiding all this crazy vampire shite from her. But now she knows and she hasn’t run screaming.”
“Davo.” Andre’s rigid posture softened, and he swung his head mournfully.
Pedro leaned back and rested his elbows on the kitchen counter, striking a casual GQ pose. “Right on, Bel. That’s cool. What does Lexi’s husband think about you kissing her? Or did you buy her that bling?”
“Krist.”
Bel recoiled at Kos’s curse, but the expression on his brother’s face was pure compassion. Weeks ago, when Kos was pussying around about being in love with Lena, Bel had confessed the depth of his former feelings for Lexi.
“She’s just engaged,” Bel whispered, as if the trivial distinction mattered.
“Bel, I could not care less whether your Alexandra is married, but I care for you. You will all suffer less if you accept this simple truth—you have nothing to offer her—you belong to Uta now. I am surprised you could even stand to kiss Alexandra.”
Bel’s fingers traveled to his mouth of their own accord, that point of contact where, for once, Lexi’s unfailing attraction had failed to turn him on. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
And sure as hell not to that cold, bloodthirsty bitch.
“Sit. We need to talk.”
Twelve chair legs scraped along the tile floor as his father and brothers pulled out seats and Lena brought pie.
“What are we discussing? Hunter attacks? Vampire attacks? The coming apocalypse?” Bel tried to sound flippant as he tucked into the tart cherry perfection on his plate.
“Bel, Uta is coming here tomorrow. You need to be prepared for what might happen to you. To both of you.” Andre’s logical fatherly tone would have appealed to Bel if he’d been speaking to anyone else.
Pedro tilted his chair back and balanced it on two legs. “What’s the problem? What will happen to Bel when she gets here?”
“That’s a question for Bel—tell us what happened when you saw her before.”
“It’s not a big deal. So, my inner vampire will get a little worked up. I can handle it,” Bel said. “Especially now that I know what to expect.”
Kos’s laugh was tinged with pity. “You don’t understand how powerful a bond is.”
“Mierda!” Pedro clapped Bel on the back. “Only you could wind up blood bonded to your own madrina.”
A mouthful of retorts sprung to mind—only you would wind up a half-Hunter vampire, only you would fuck our archenemy’s brother. Those were below the belt, so he aimed for the gut. “What about you, baby bro? No sudden bonds to Bennett the younger?”
Pedro shot him a bird. “Nada.”
“Can you feel her, son?” Andre rubbed his hand over his sternum, as he often did when Zoey entered a room.
“A little.”
“How the hell does that even work?” Pedro brought all four feet of his chair to the floor with a bang and leaned over the table.
Bel opened his mouth to explain what he understood of the bond, but he had no real explanation. So he shut his trap and turned to Andre, who, for once, sat waiting deferentially for Bel to speak.
Instead, Bel shrugged. “I got nothing.”
Andre interlaced his fingers on the table and leaned forward. “All I know is that it occurs because her blood is inside of him. They are connected in every cell.”
Bel’s mouth went dry. In every cell.
How had he forgotten that part? Too busy being pissed off, probably. At least the hemoaurum was an actual molecule he could look at under a microscope. This blood bond bollocks defied logic. A spiritual connection with physiological effects? But that’s how it had been between
Andre and Mila. And the broken bond had nearly killed Andre when Mila died.
Bloody hell—he was connected to Uta like that. If anything ever happened to her when she was out kicking Hunter ass for the Justicia, he would suffer what Andre had for all those decades that his body had fought for life. Unbidden, the image of her skin blackening under the sun sprang into Bel’s mind.
The soft, worn collar of his T-shirt choked him.
He needed to be alone. The good news was, none of these chumps could follow him outside in the daylight. “I need some air.”
“Bel—”
He dashed out the kitchen door before he heard the rest of Andre’s sentence, thankful none of them abused their super power to keep him inside for their little intervention.
The spacious blue sky made room for him, and he drew in deep breaths. The afternoon sun warmed his skin, soaking into his dark shirt and jeans. Because the vines and trellises had all burned, he was able to cross over the hillsides in a crow’s line. The air no longer smelled of fuel and ash, but the blackened earth left no doubt as to what had happened. A walk outside may have begun as a temporary escape from his family, but it was also a harsh reminder of his other problem—a population of diseased, desperate vampires who now believed Hunters were their panacea.
Was Lexi having any luck? He should go inside and ask for her help contacting the test subjects. He glanced back toward the house.
As much as he hated to admit it, Andre had been right to call him on that kiss. Even if he could get their spark going again, it would only hurt Lexi to learn of his bond to Uta. And he sure as hell wasn’t ready to face Lex again.
In the opposite direction, a wooded copse stood in a shallow valley—a trickling spring where he had first met Zoey while she was making out with Andre. Bel chuckled to remember those two, disheveled and trying to play it casual.
Fortunately, the sweet little spot had escaped the Hunters’ flame throwers, and he slipped and scuffed down the steep path into the shadows of the small, scraggly trees.
Blood Reunited Page 6
