Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  Apparently, not even Tristan. But that was what had been holding him up from putting a bullet in that gorgeous face staring at him.

  She pushed him away.

  She was right—she could've killed him. He was there in her grasp, barely lucid, totally in her enthrallment, but she hadn’t killed him. Black Blood Demons weren't known for mercy, so something else had to be wrong for her to purposely fight her nature.

  "If I let you go, there will be no protection for me whatsoever from you. What if this is a trap, just to get me to free you? Whether you were told or not, the people who sent you only had one intention, and that was for you to kill me."

  Zoë shook her head. "I'm not under any orders, I swear it. I was stolen. I shouldn't be here—someone or something put me here." She blew out a frustrated sigh. "I will not harm you. You have my word."

  Tristan sat quietly for a moment, eyeing her for any moment of doubt or suspicion. Whoever did this failed, but regardless, if he let a Black Blood Slayer go, he would be considered insane. He didn't even know how to really kill one, so perhaps letting her go would remove her as a threat while he tracked down the sick shithead who had delivered her.

  With a tic in his jaw, Tristan finally spoke. "How do I break these chains, demon?" he asked, standing up to his full height.

  "They are inscribed for me, so only I cannot break them. You can touch them and remove them without much effort."

  Tristan walked over to the bed, his gun still aimed at her. "Just so you'll know, I'm not easy prey. If you betray me, I will use all my power to try and kill you. I'll leave my mark on you with my last breath, understand?"

  He slowly lowered his gun, holstering his weapon.

  Zoë looked into his bright eyes and pushed back her frown. Her teeth clenched tight at his threat, but she merely nodded. "Understood."

  Tristan moved on the other side of the bed, slowly and methodically moving to her side, trying to find a place where the chain met her ankle to the bed. Carefully, he snapped the shackles off watching Zoë flinch at the sound of the loud metallic clink against his hardwood floor.

  He stood quietly, staring at her as she slowly shifted her body to raise her other long, toned leg upwards to his chest. Her eyes stayed locked on him as his hands carefully took her foot and then slipped his fingers between her silken skin and the shackles.

  With a grunt, Tristan quickly broke the shackle letting it fall on the bed. The silence between them was thick as all that connected between them were careful, intense stares. Neither were willing to look away. Whether it was from lack of trust or something else was beyond either of them.

  With freedom minutes away from her, Zoë held up her hands to him, the shackles biting into her wrists, but she made no sudden moves.

  She could tell that every word he spoke, he meant. She could tell by the arduous smell of his blood, he was an older vampire. His heady scent reminded her of frankincense, oak, and leather, everything that was woodsy and masculine.

  She clenched her mouth shut as she felt it water for an anticipated taste of him. Her nipples tightened and warmth radiated from the core of her body.

  Panic started to run across her face as she watched her unofficial captor quietly grab the shackles from both wrists and snap them off. If she didn't get away from him soon, she'd trigger another enthrallment, and that wouldn't be good for either of them. Maybe this time, she wouldn't control herself.

  Tearing the vampire apart in more ways than one was undoubtedly what her body wanted... but not her mind. She gave her word she wouldn't harm him, and she was nothing without her word. Even if it was to a shitty, parasitic blood-sucker.

  The break of the metal shackles gave her a quick sigh of relief. "Thank you. I'm Zoë."

  "I don't care who you are. If you meant what you said, and you had no intention of harming me, then you should be leaving, now."

  Tristan backed away from her, pointing at the door. The sooner he got her away from him, the sooner he could find out who was the enthusiastic gift giver. Someone clearly wanted him out of the way, and now he had to follow the breadcrumbs to find out who and why.

  Zoë slid off the bed and stood to her feet. The chilly breeze through the open bedroom door made her body tense. She felt raw and exposed standing there before him, only wearing a thin demi-bra and lace thong.

  Her face crinkled into a scowl at his cold demeanor, shoving her out like some pest. She began to open her mouth to say something, but clamped it shut.

  Just get out, before you kill him.

  Her inner thoughts, for once, made sense. Zoë needed to leave. Staying would only make the situation worse. She had her own mission to figure out what the hell had happened to her. Essentially, she felt kidnapped, and whoever thought doing that was a good idea would soon find themselves on the business end of a sword. No one made her a captive and lived. Nobody.

  Zoë quietly nodded and proceeded to will the portal open to her dimension so she could leave. The deafening silence in her ear as she focused yielded nothing. Panting, she looked around to see Tristan staring at her.

  She closed her eyes shut and tried again, focusing hard enough to hear the once muffled sound of her heartbeat now clear as day. Her limbs trembling, Zoë tried to will the portal open, but instead felt a sharp pain slice through her head. Screeching at the intense pain, she lost her balance and dropped back onto the bed, clasping her skull.

  Tristan stood on guard as he watched the Black Blood Demon writhe in pain. Unsure of what she was doing, he kept his distance, curious of her reaction and sudden pain.

  "What's going on with you?"

  Zoë sat up and began to feel the slow trickling of warm liquid from her nose. Trembling, with the back of her hand, she wiped her nose to reveal her thick, midnight blood smeared against it.

  Willing the portal open was something she had done a million times. It was as easy as breathing, yet somehow, she couldn't get it to open. Panting as the ripples of pain moved through her head down to her feet, she turned to him.

  "Something's wrong. I-I can't move from this dimension. Something's blocking me, and I don't know what it is."

  Tristan frowned, despite the grumbling of his stomach at the sight and smell of her blood. "Seems pretty convenient, demon."

  Zoë hissed, both from pain and sheer annoyance. "You think I want to stay here?" She scoffed as she slowly pulled to her feet again. "Don't flatter yourself, blood-sucker, you're lucky I have bigger shit to deal with than you or else I would've had second thoughts."

  Tristan stretched, cracking his neck. His eyes still trained on her, daring a challenge from the half-naked demon. "Same here, princess." He pulled his gun. "Now, kindly use the traditional method to get the hell outta here. Use the door."

  Zoë's skin flushed with anger. She stormed past him, shoulder checking him as she blasted by and through the doorway.

  Tristan watched as she ran down the stairs, all her curves bouncing with each step as she unabashedly moved through his house in her underwear. Her clear, green eyes squinted with anger as she descended the old stairs. He definitely couldn't say he wanted her to stay, but it was, however at least entertaining to watch her leave.

  Getting to the foyer, she snatched a black coat from the rack and shrugged into it. Zoë went to yank open the front door to the brightness of the day. The deep contrast of brightness forced her back for a moment until her eyes adjusted.

  The sidewalk led to the street that was already bustling with humans going about their day. Stepping out, she slammed the door shut and proceeded to move hastily away from the house and into the Garden District where the wretched vampire apparently resided.

  Tristan, hearing the door slam shut, took a sigh of relief as he too, descended the stairs. One nightmare gone, but definitely not forgotten.

  A Black Blood demon appearance sure as hell wasn't a coincidence. Not after all that had been going on. Someone wanted him gone, and he was going to find out who. Luckily, the list wasn't long, and with
the death of Ivana, he had an inkling who was on that list eager to shut him up.

  His thoughts were interrupted as a high-pitched yell and a loud, booming crash came through his front door. The door erupted with a body flying right through it and into his home. The cracking and splintering of wood exploded throughout the foyer. With sunlight blasting through the opening, Tristan leapt back up to the top of the stairs, shielding his eyes. The sting of the sun threatened to blind him, and he leaned back against the wall back into the shadows, hissing at the intrusion.

  Peering forward, he slowly looked down to hear the groans of a figure in black on the floor. It was crumpled in fetal position, but slowly stretched to reveal scratched, bare legs. Rolling over, Tristan began to recognize the dusty, cut face that belonged to whoever came crashing through his front door.

  It was the demon, Zoë.

  Hissing a curse, he drew his weapons and aimed them at her. "What the fuck are you doing here? Are you trying my patience, demon?" He must've been the biggest asshole to even let her walk out of his place alive. "Answer me!"

  Pulling to her feet, Zoë felt the same slicing pain in her head as she did earlier when trying to escape through a portal. She couldn't get far from the house without a force as powerful as the sun's gravity pulling her back, sending her flying across streets and through walls until she came crashing back here.

  She felt splinters and glass push themselves out of her skin and begin to heal, but the horrible pain in her head throbbed and threatened to make her retch.

  Zoë spit out a bit of blood from her mouth, trying to catch her breath. "I've... been... grounded. I can't leave this plane and I can't leave..." She cut her eyes up at Tristan and the two pistol barrels staring down at her. "I'm somehow... bound."

  With squinting eyes, Tristan frowned, his fangs bared, and growled at her. "To what?"

  Zoë sighed and looked around, angst building in her as she realized the new situation. "To you."

  .

  Chapter Seven: Raptured

  TRISTAN STOOD IN his position, nearly motionless as Zoë glared at him. Was she fucking serious? His eyes burning, sensitive to the intruding daylight around the corner, Tristan didn't dare take his sight off of her.

  "What the hell are you saying by bound? I see no chains between us." His fingers literally itched to squeeze. Something had to give, and today the choice was looking to pick either his life or hers. "I don't have time for games, princess. You have 30 seconds before I light you up. Speak!"

  Zoë held up her hands, still laying on her back staring up at him. She sensed no fear or twitchiness in the vampire's icy, reflective eyes. One wrong word or move and the blood-sucker was going to pop one off. There was no denying it, and no sense risking it.

  "I don't know how this happened! Someone has bound you to me, meaning wherever you go, I go."

  She shivered at the thought. Binding was done only on missions where a Black Blood was sent to protect someone. It was a way to keep the individual close to their protector. If an assailant wanted to kidnap the target, it wouldn't be long until a Black Blood came trailing behind like an invisible tether ready to exact justice.

  But never had she heard of a vampire being bound to one of them. Ever. Definitely not for protection, she gathered.

  Hell no. Someone really hated her, and this vamp, obviously. She definitely hadn’t expected the forceful pull of her body reigning her back to his proximity again. Back to is cold gaze where he pointed a gun in her face.

  I should make him eat that gun, her inner voice called to her. Or turn this house into swiss cheese and let the sun get him. Then the binding would have to break. This wasn't good.

  Tristan, still exacting his aim at her head, began to laugh. His sinister tone was laced with sarcasm as he watched the bright-eyed Black Blood Slayer lay amongst the rubble of his doorway. The sunlight was washing against her scantily clad body. Cuts and bruises from her collision were already healing before his eyes. He could tell by her breathing pattern that she was perturbed. Good, so was he.

  "I can't wait to meet who sent you here, princess. Apparently, they are fucking brilliant."

  "I told you, I don't know—"

  His twisted laughter sobered, and he quickly cut her off. "It doesn't really matter, now does it?" Tristan's face turned to stone again. "So, humor me for a moment. Let's say you, for some reason, have no earthly idea why you're here and why you're bound to me. A Black Blood Slayer being bound to her prey."

  He arched his eyebrow at her "Black Blood Slayer..." He raised his right hand slightly. "... Prey."

  Zoë slowly shook her head, her eyes thin slits. "I know this all sounds like bullshit to you, but I'm telling you the truth! Some shit's going down, and I have a feeling we're in the middle of it!"

  Her eyes cut to the doorway. With daylight burning outside, the vampire had no choice but to stand his ground. Zoë stopped and tried to remember the last thing she did or saw. Though the haze of her mind, all she could dig out was a word. A name.

  She opened her eyes. "Remelia."

  Tristan froze at the name of the missing Supreme witch. "What do you know about her? Huh? What does she have to do with all this?"

  Zoë sat up as her fuzzy mind played a broken scene that didn't make any sense. It was like someone took a chunk of her memory, only leaving pieces out of context. "I don't know. All I have is a name. Who's Remelia?"

  "She's the Green Girls' leader. The one they hail as their Supreme. There were rumors she disappeared, so if you know something about it, then you'd do best to tell me now."

  Zoë began to ease her way up to stand.

  Tristan coughed and spit out a clot of blood, which didn't prevent him from firing a warning shot at Zoë's feet. "Don't. Fucking. Move."

  Finally to her feet, she kept her eyes trained on him and remained still even as she felt the wood splinters hit her feet from the nearby shot.

  "If I wanted to hurt you, vampire, I would've done it by now."

  She eyed his tensed body that held a slightly unsteady sway. It was very late in the day now and his body was beginning to break down.

  "Look at you. You're blocked between me and the blazing sun of the day. It must be pushing midday by the looks of the shadows outside, and even for a vampire your age, it's taking a toll on you. You've already begun to bleed.

  Tristan kept his aim on her, even as he felt the cold trail of blood trickle past the top of his lip from his nose. "I like pushing boundaries. Now tell me about the witch."

  She shook her head. " If you haven't figured it out by now, you're no good to me dead."

  "Wish I could say the same for you."

  Zoë bared her teeth, her chest heaving from reigning in her growing anger. If you lose it, he'll try to kill you.

  "Look, you want answers, and so do I. But we can't get anywhere like this. Neither of us. Can we at least agree on that?"

  Tristan raised an eyebrow and stifled a cough. There was a long, pensive pause before he spoke again. "Yes."

  Zoë sighed. She looked at the beautiful day outside past the rose bushes out front. Then looked at the sunlight spilling through the house. She kicked off her heels and felt the creaking of the floor beneath her. Finally, her eyes cut back to Tristan.

  "I never thought I would say this to a fucking vampire, of all Supes, but... it's important you don't drop dead on me here. I don't know what is all happening, but we've obviously been screwed, and with us bound together, it doesn't make it any easier. We're natural enemies, it's true, but we have to work together, or we're both dead."

  Tristan hissed under his breath. Trusting a Black Blood demon? He may as well have walked right into the sunlight right then and there. At least the pain would have been brief.

  But there was a problem. Every passing moment, it became harder to keep his focus. If he kept at this standoff, he would eventually pass out. Then he'd be fair game to her.

  If he killed her, the bind would be broken, but she had information he ne
eded. If the demon knew what happened to Remelia, chances were she probably knew about Ivana as well.

  "Tell me what you know."

  "I can only do that with your help." She pulled the coat tighter onto her body. "I need you to help me get my memory back."

  Tristan wiped the blood from his mouth. "And how do you suppose I do that?"

  Zoë looked away. She must have been mental for even thinking this was an option. But that was the problem—there were no options.

  "There's a way. But I need to get to a church, and there's no way you can go right now. I need you healthy to pull this off. Now, where's your den?"

  Tristan's eyelids began to feel like they had 20-pound weights on them. "My... den is none... of your... concern... Demon."

  Zoë took a small step back and felt her toes rub against a small, metal loop bolted to the wood floor. A small smirk on her lips blossomed as she eyed him.

  "I'm standing on it, aren't I?" She tapped her foot against the trapdoor. "Now get that gun out of my face and get into your fucking cubby while you can still stand. We don't have much time."

  He straightened his aching body, but only for a moment. "You try anything, princess, and I'll put a bullet... in your—"

  Before Tristan could finish, he blacked out and fell against the stairs, falling to the floor.

  Shit! Zoë quickly bent down to open the trapdoor to his den, than with unnatural speed, ran to catch Tristan before he tumbled onto the sun-drenched floor at the base.

  She pushed him against the wall at the second step and checked his face. His eyes were closed. He was panting, but alive. She looked around. The door was exposed with sunlight, and as old as he was, right now he wasn't strong enough to take too much exposure. Just great.

  Zoë took off the coat and put it over Tristan's face. Tucking herself under his arm, Zoë got him up, nearly dragging his body to the open cellar door. She smelled a tinge of burning flesh along with hearing a faint hiss as Tristan's arms got burned by the sun.