by J. L. McCoy
“Jameson,” I whispered as I took in his state. He was pale, well more pale than usual, and he looked absolutely exhausted. “Baby? Are you okay?” I rolled over and cupped his cool face between my hands.
“I’ll…live,” he panted as he studied my face, a small relieved smile upon his luscious lips.
“Jameson,” Aoife warned a second before Martin flashed down the stairs and backhanded her into the far wall. I felt Jameson flash to his feet as I watched her limp body sag to the floor.
I watched helplessly as Jameson and Martin brutally fought one another. My body was still recovering from the healing and I didn’t think I could get up off the floor yet. Jameson had the upper hand most of the time, but I was unprepared for what happened next. Martin locked his arms around Jameson and sunk his fangs into Jameson’s neck. I watched for a few seconds as Jameson desperately fought to free himself, but it was no use. Martin had a firm hold on Jameson and wasn’t letting go. I saw Jameson’s body start to sag and I completely lost it.
“No!” I screamed as I somehow scrambled off of the floor and flung myself on Martin’s back. I feverishly tore at his hair with my freshly healed hands, gouged his eyes, and was finally able to put him in a chokehold. I squeezed his neck as hard as I could while I screamed out my frustration. My arm was locked so tight around his throat that he could no longer swallow Jameson’s blood. He growled in frustration and threw Jameson’s limp body away from him as he attempted to pull me off of his back. Martin somehow grabbed me by my hair, yanking me forward, and I had no choice but to release my hold on his neck. The pain he was causing me once again was excruciating.
“You little BITCH!” he screamed, bloody spittle flying in my face, as he drew his fist back to punch me in it.
Suddenly, Aoife came out of nowhere and began stabbing him in the back with something. Martin screamed out in pain and flung me to the side.
“Go help Jameson!” Aoife yelled out to me as she continued to attack Martin. I stared at her in awe for a few seconds, shocked at the sight of her lithe body in battle. She was absolutely beautiful and oh-so-fierce with her dagger. Her long blond hair whipped about as she skillfully ducked, spun, twisted, and flipped circles around a frustrated and growling Martin.
A gurgling sound coming from Jameson pulled me out of my daze and I hurriedly crawled over to him. I took one look at him and instantly gagged. The side of his throat had been torn out and he was bleeding profusely. My vision began to swim and I fought hard not to pass out at the sight of his injuries.
“Oh God, Jameson,” I whispered as I put my hands over the gaping wound, desperately applying pressure, hoping that he would heal himself soon. Seconds passed and I waited, but his body was not healing. I watched helplessly as his panicked eyes began to calm and flutter as he started losing consciousness.
“Don’t you fucking die on me, dammit!” I yelled out as I slapped his face with my free hand. “You can’t leave me, Jameson. Stay with me! Stay awake, damn you!” His eyes bolted open and he weakly lifted his hand to touch my cheek. His eyes were full of so many emotions; love, acceptance of his impending death, sorrow, and an apology. I knew he was going to die and I began to panic.
I looked over at Aoife but she wasn’t going to be of any help to me. She was knee deep in kicking Martin’s sorry ass and I knew I couldn’t call out to her and distract her from the fight, lest that slime ball Martin got the upper hand.
Think, Skye! Think! Jameson is dying, dammit! You have to save him! My mind was in turmoil and I felt so utterly and completely helpless. My Jameson was going to die and I had no choice but to sit here and watch it happen. Fuck that! I thought as I gripped the side of his face and leaned over him. I knew that what I was about to do would probably kill me, but I didn’t care as long as he lived. Jameson had done so much for me and I knew, without a doubt, that I would die for him.
“Don’t fight me, Jameson,” I whispered calmly as I stroked his hair. I put my free wrist in his mouth and told him to bite. He stared at me for a moment…I’m not sure if it was indecision or defiance, but I repeated my command as I shoved my wrist harder against his teeth. “Drink, Jameson.”
I heard his fangs sink slowly into my wrist and I sighed when I felt the dizzying euphoria overtake the painful pinch caused by his teeth.
“That’s right, baby,” I whispered as I closed my eyes. “Drink all you need.” I knew Jameson’s healing earlier had replenished my blood supply, so I knew he had plenty to take if he needed it. I didn’t care what it took; I just wanted him to survive.
I opened my eyes after a moment and saw his throat repairing itself. I sighed in relief as I leaned down and kissed his forehead. A loud scream coming from Aoife startled me and I jerked my head up from Jameson’s and saw that Martin had Aoife in his arms and was draining her as well.
“I have to help Aoife,” I said quickly to Jameson and he released my wrist. I grabbed the silver dagger that I knew he always kept strapped to his ankle and woozily got to my feet. The effects of his bite were still strong and I shook my head hard, attempting to clear it. I couldn’t waste any more time as I heard Aoife desperately yell out in pain again. I knew from experience what Martin’s bite was like; he gnawed on a person and it was excruciating.
I ran unsteadily and launched myself on his back once again. I furiously stabbed at his face and neck with the silver dagger and he screamed out in furious pain. He cast Aoife’s limp body to the side and, using his vampire speed, leaned forward, roughly throwing me off of him. I hit the ground hard and my skull bounced on the concrete floor a few times as my body slid across it.
When I came to a stop, I groaned and put my free hand to my head, hoping to ease the spinning sensation I was feeling. I knew it was probably because I was low on blood again as the euphoria from Jameson’s bite would have mostly worn off by now. I lifted my head up just in time to see Martin stalking toward me. I looked over at Aoife and Jameson and was panicked to realize that they were in no shape to help me. This fight would have to be all on me if I wanted to save us.
I growled angrily as Martin picked me up by my hair and I slashed at him with the dagger, cutting open his black shirt and drawing blood.
“I told you not to fucking touch me!” I screamed as I went wild; thrashing, stabbing, slashing, and kicking at him. I wanted to make this sick bastard pay for every time he hit me, fed from me, and nearly raped me. I wanted to make him beg for ME to stop hurting HIM…I wanted to make him regret the day he met me.
Martin dropped me and used his vampire speed to punch me in the stomach, eye, and jaw. I doubled over in pain when the quick assault ended and spit out a mouthful of blood. I was amazed that I was even still standing after what he just did to me and I raised my head and smiled painfully at him.
“Is that…all you’ve got?” I huffed heavily. “What a joke. I thought you…were supposed to be some almighty vampire, not some weak little girl.”
Martin was standing back, bouncing from foot to foot like a boxer, and grinning like a john in a whore house. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he laughed cruelly. “You really think you can take me on? Look at your two useless day walkers. See what I did to them? They can’t help you now. You’re all mine, you little bitch! I think I’ll fuck you after all…before I drain the worthless life right out of you.”
“Are you serious?” I laughed painfully as I spit out more of the blood that had pooled in my mouth. “Bring it on, asshole. I plan on sending you right back to hell where you belong. No one fucks with my friends and gets away with it.”
Martin just stood there grinning so I took a deep breath and made my move. I ran at him with everything I had as I furiously slashed the air between us with Jameson’s dagger. Martin spun around me, but I had expected that from all of the training that I had with Archer and Hagan. I arched my arm back and stabbed him in the side as I spun around and punched him in the throat with the heel of my other palm. I quickly took out the dagger, dropped to one knee and brought the dagger up between his
legs, skewering his man meat. Martin screamed out a string of obscenities as I leaned on my knee and kicked the side of his as hard as I could, making him fall to the ground.
He quickly rolled over, surprising me as I stood up, and grabbed ahold of my leg, dragging me down to the ground with him. I tried desperately to scramble away from him, but his lock on my leg was firm. He pulled my body toward his and I flipped over onto my back and kicked his face repeatedly, hoping he would let go. After several hard kicks, he growled and did just that. I rolled over and scrambled to my feet, eager to have the upper hand and height advantage.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he swore as I circled his prone position, dagger in my hand at the ready.
“You first, asshole,” I said as I dove at him, stabbing him in the chest and sides as we rolled across the cold cement floor. Somehow Martin managed to get me in a choke hold and I started to panic as he squeezed my neck tightly. Think of your lessons with Hagan. You’ve been in this exact position before. What did he teach you to do?
I let my body go limp and stopped struggling. Martin did exactly what I thought he was going to do and leaned his head over to look at my face. I took that moment to strike and brought my hand up over my shoulder, stabbing him in the right eye with the silver dagger.
Martin screamed and let go of me as he scrambled backward on the floor; his right hand covering his now bleeding eye. Hagan had taught me that a vampire’s eyes didn’t heal as quickly as other parts of them and that was a sure way to disarm a vampire’s defenses, enabling a prime moment to attack.
I growled out a fierce battle cry as I dove on top of him, grabbed a fistful of his hair with my left hand as I simultaneously stabbed at the base of his skull, hoping to sever his spinal cord. Martin writhed and bucked, but I just kept stabbing and twisting the blade, desperate to disable him. After about ten seconds of furious stabbing, I felt his body go limp. Not trusting that he was dead, I quickly let go of his head, leaned back, and stabbed him in the back where I knew his heart was located. I hit his rib bone at first and it took some maneuvering to get between them and into his heart, but I did it.
I left the dagger in his back and rolled off of him, panting heavily and so very out of breath. It’s not easy killing a vampire, let me tell you. That had been the toughest fight of my life. My entire body ached and my head pounded furiously.
I remembered Jameson and Aoife and quickly looked over to see Jameson slowly crawling toward her limp body. He was quite a ways away, so I staggered up, ignoring my protesting muscles, and ran to her. She hadn’t moved an inch from where Martin had tosses her aside. She was breathing, but her eyes weren’t open. I quickly sat down on the floor, pulling her head into my lap and cradled her.
“Aoife,” I called her name, gently at first, trying to rouse her, but it was no use. She wasn’t conscious. “Aoife,” I screamed and finally got a weak response.
“Blood,” she whispered softly.
I didn’t hesitate as I put my wrist to her mouth and allowed her to feed from me. She bit hard into my wrist as I watched Jameson crawl the last few feet to us. The euphoria of her bite slowly swept over me and I closed my eyes and took a much needed deep breath.
“Are you okay?” I whispered to Jameson as I floated on a wave of warm contentment.
“Healing, thanks to you,” he said as he gently pulled my wrist out of Aoife’s mouth. I opened my eyes and watched as he placed his hands at the bite marks on her neck. Aoife groaned and opened her eyes as Jameson started to heal her.
The commotion upstairs drew my attention once again and I heard panicked yelling and crashing sounds. I threw Aoife off of me as I heard Archer yell out for Jameson, and I hurried to my feet. I had to unexpectedly grab on to the wall to steady myself. Cold pinpricks dotted my face as black spots danced in my vision. You will NOT pass out, Skye Morrison, I silently yelled to myself as I ran across the room and up the stairs. I heard Jameson call my name in a panic, but I didn’t care. It sounded like Archer was in trouble and I would stop at nothing to get to him.
When I finally got upstairs, I saw that we were in an old abandoned house. The place was an absolute wreck. Old furniture was in pieces and strewn about, windows were broken out, and there were massive holes in the walls. I jogged further into the room and saw two bodies lying on the floor. One of them was Archer and I gasped as I ran to him.
“Archer,” I sobbed his name as I dropped to my knees beside him and took in his battered state. He was covered in blood, his clothes were ripped, and he was holding his exposed intestines close to his body. He had been partially gutted like Amun’s other victims. “Oh, Archer, no,” I cried harder as I wiped some of the blood out of his eyes with my hands.
“Jameson?” he whispered as he panted in shallow, quick breaths. His eyes were wide with the terrible pain he was in and I struggled to get myself together for him. I wanted to be strong for him, to be brave enough to do whatever he needed me to do for him to survive.
“Jameson!” I lifted my head to the ceiling and screamed as loud as I could, most of it coming out in a desperate sob. I looked down at Archer again. “He’s coming. Hang on for me, Archer. He’s coming, I promise. He’s healing Aoife.”
Worry flashed across his face and I reassured him. “Aoife’s fine. She’s going to be just fine. She was awake when I left. She’s not injured badly. That asshole Martin tried to drain her, but I didn’t let him finish the job.”
He relaxed a bit and closed his eyes. I roughly grasped his jaw and his eyes flew open again. “Don’t close your eyes, honey. Look at me, Archer…just focus on me. You’re going to be okay.”
Archer’s body shook as he urgently tried to breathe. Blood was gurgling in his airway and I stared in horror, not knowing what to do. After he coughed the blood up, he swallowed thickly a few times and slowly lifted his hand up to cup my cheek. “I’m dying, Skye,” he said as he looked at me calmly, love painting his beautiful arctic blue eyes.
“No you’re not,” I shook my head, sobbing as the tears started to fall faster down my face. “You can’t die on me, Archer. Don’t you die on me, baby. Just hold on for me, please…just hold on dammit.”
“Kiss me one last time, Skye…before I die,” he whispered weakly as he gently stroked my cheek. “I want to…enter heaven…with the taste of you on my lips.”
I didn’t hesitate as I leaned down and passionately, desperately kissed him as my tears rained down upon him. Archer ran both of his hands up my neck and fisted my hair as he met my kiss with his own passion and desperation. Suddenly, he exhaled one last time into my mouth as his arms went limp and fell down to his chest.
I pulled back and stared at his empty eyes. “Archer? Archer? Nooooo!” I sobbed as I grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard. “Don’t you leave me, dammit! Please!”
I shoved my wrist into his mouth, but he just laid there. “Feed, damn you!” I screamed as I slapped him as hard as I could. His eyes fluttered open for a second and closed again. He’s alive? I shoved my wrist into his mouth again and roughly closed his bottom jaw, deeply sinking his fangs into my skin. I watched as my blood filled his mouth and poured down the sides of his face.
“Please, Archer…just swallow. Please, baby…fight! Fight!” I sobbed as I swept his blood soaked hair out of his face with my free hand. I cried harder as I realized that I was probably too late and that he was most likely already dead.
A heartbroken wail exploded from me as I collapsed on his chest. I was absolutely devastated. Archer, my boss, my crush, the man I secretly, intensely cared for, was dead. I screamed as violent, soul-crushing sobs wracked my weak body.
A small gurgle unexpectedly emanated from Archer and I shot up off his chest. I watched with wide, amazed eyes as he swallowed the mouthful of blood.
“Oh my God! Yes…that’s it baby,” I cried out encouragingly. “Swallow again.”
Slowly, he sucked on my wrist, pulling more blood into his mouth, and swallowed again. I laughed through my tears
, overjoyed that he was still alive. I soothingly brushed the hair on his forehead as he pulled on my wrist again, taking in another mouthful.
“Thank you, God,” I said, relieved, as I collapsed next to him on the old, dirty hardwood floor and allowed him to drink his fill. As his pulls on my wrist become stronger, and his swallows more frequent, I start to feel the telltale signs of the chemicals in his fangs; the warm, safe, happy feeling overtook me and I sighed. He’s safe, I silently reassured myself. He’s going to be just fine.
I noticed the room begin to spin as black spots dotted my vision once again. The cold pinpricks in my face resumed full force, but I couldn’t have cared less. Archer was alive; I had him back. I closed my eyes and gave myself to the darkness.
“Skye?” I heard Jameson call out to me from far away. I felt someone’s hands cupping my face as my wrist was taken out of Archer’s mouth.
“Tend to Archer,” I barely heard Aoife say to Jameson as I opened my eyes to see her above me, cradling my head in her lap. “Stay with us, Skye.”
I turned my head and weakly looked over at Jameson and Archer. Jameson was working on him and I smiled as I let the darkness carry me away.
Chapter 20
I slowly opened my eyes and blinked a few times. I looked around the room and realized I was back in the guest room at Archer’s house on the lake. I glanced over to my left and saw Jameson sprawled out on the white chaise lounge by the window, softly snoring. His face was ghostly pale and his normally clean shaven face was sporting rugged, days old stubble. I smiled when I realized that he was safe and I tried to swallow. My mouth was incredibly dry and tasted absolutely horrible.
I turned over and saw that someone had thoughtfully left a bottle of water on the bedside table and I eagerly reached over and unscrewed the lid, taking deep mouthfuls of the cool liquid. It soothed my parched throat as I sucked it down.
I heard Jameson stir a second before I heard his voice. “A luaidh. You’re awake,” he said groggily. “How long have you been up?”
