by L. A. Banks
“I had a hand in this thing, as much as you did,” she murmured. “We’re partners. We work this situation together. Me and you and my Guardian team.”
He wasn’t trying to hear it. Didn’t need to think about anything that might make it harder to do what he had to do.
“I bit you, you turned, and you fluxed back. My bad.”
“I let you, and wanted you to, and encouraged you to do me.”
“Yeah, well, woulda, coulda, shoulda.”
“Then I went deep into your head, when you told me not to. Opened Pandora’s box.”
“Told you curiosity killed the cat.”
She smiled a slow, sad smile. “You did.”
“You satisfied now?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too . . . more than you’ll ever know.”
He glanced at her, and then glanced up at the moon. “This is an old conversation, D. You know where it leads.”
“I know. Then why aren’t you doing your transport thing, if you’re hell-bent on sending me away?”
For a moment he didn’t answer her, but then the truth came out. “Because I really don’t want to. You actually ready to die?” He let his breath out hard. “There’s a good chance that four masters against me, even at my level, will win. One, or all four of those bastards, might be in possession of the key. Against you and your team, they’ll get slaughtered. I don’t want to think about what they’ll do to you if you’re captured. That I cannot live with.”
“No, I don’t want any of us to die. Without the key being returned to hallowed ground, is there such a thing as life on this planet? There’s a certain way I want to live.”
He nodded. He could respect that, always did. But it didn’t change his position. “Why didn’t you just listen to me when I told you not to take me there in Rio? Why’d you have to go that deep into my mind?”
She smiled sadly and looked out into the night. “We’re way off the subject, but if you must know, I was jealous.”
“What?”
“I wanted to be the only one you fantasized about. After some of the places you’d been . . .”
Carlos closed his eyes and shook his head. “Oh, shit, Damali. You didn’t need to go there to be the one.”
“I wanted to know what a double-plunge was, and to do that with you. I also wanted to experience going to the vanishing point with you, albeit you haven’t taken me there yet. But now I have an idea.” She sighed and looked down. “I didn’t want some female vamp seducing you one night to try something that you couldn’t get from me. I figured it was bound to happen sooner or later.”
He looked at her, allowing his gaze to rake her, burning her into his memory for what might very well be the last time. “Go deep, right now, and get the question settled in your mind once and for all. Then, answer my question. Are you really ready to end our relationship like this? Because you know, if I find either the seal or the key, I’ll turn it over to them to save your life, whether you want to be with me or not.”
Her pull was so intense that she shuddered from the answer she siphoned from him. She took two steps toward him, but then stopped herself, although she never broke eye contact with him.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured. “But in this condition, you can’t have it both ways. If you haven’t already totally crossed over by the end of the mission, I’ll flat-line you to save you, and you want to live as a human.”
“Yeah. I do. That’s why I stopped walking.”
His fangs dropped and were slow to recede. It took him a moment to answer her. “You sure you wanna leave and try to go after the key yourself?”
“What I want to do, and what I have to do, are two different things. Either we do this together, or I do it alone. But don’t try to sweet-talk me into some bullshit compromise, Carlos. I’m not down for a vamp seduction.”
He needed night air. Standing in the confines of the foyer with her was too much of a temptation to simply turn her all vamp and be done with the options. “Can’t blame a man for trying,” he said, smiling, but coming closer to her. “But what if it’s too late? What if you really did die in my arms already?”
“What if I didn’t?”
She looked away from him and out into the night, through the windows by the door.
He closed his eyes and walked away from her, his hand going to the nape of his neck as he tried to rub away the tension in it. “Going after them as a team is one helluva gamble, D.”
“Wait for me,” she murmured. “If you don’t hear my call tomorrow night, then I’m history.”
“What are you talking about—wait for you?” The insanity of her request made him pace from the door to the windows, and back to stand before her. “If you live through the first night in Australia without getting whacked, and if by some slim chance your system normalizes, I’m the last person in the world you want to come for you ever again.” He stared at her hard. “If you’re still human when this shit goes down, I’ll definitely turn you to keep you strong and existing, enough of that death with honor bullshit!” She had to be crazy. If the sixth sea was opened there was only one safe position; master vamp.
“I was talking about not giving up, not leaving the team, if—”
“Do you hear yourself?” He looked at her hard, forcing her gaze to stay within his. “If you make it, and you now have a deep personal understanding of what this thing is that I live with—I cannot wait around for you to die a normal, human death. Period.”
“Why not? You are destined to do something greater than—”
“There’s only one thing I can be to you—your lover. I may be your friend, your bodyguard, your whatever you want to call me, but the bottom line is, if I’m near you, you’re my woman. It’s not in my DNA, or in my heart, to watch my woman unnecessarily die. You’ve got the wrong hombre, if that’s what you want.”
She only stared at him as he stated the facts as plainly as he knew them.
“I’m not playing, Damali. And with your system all jacked up, you’re trailing the beginnings of the scent that fucks me around. Not to mention,” he said, his voice escalating, “you bit me, dammit. You may have recovered from that, but I sure as hell haven’t!”
The crystal pieces in the large foyer chandelier above him began to rattle. Damali looked up as the intensity built, sending a winding fissure across the ceiling, down the wall, opening a two-inch crack in the marble floor by her feet. She braced herself, waiting, not sure if he was going to rush her, or if the vibrating light fixture above them was gonna blow.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” he asked, gesturing with his hands as pendulous crystal sections began to separate from the ornate chandelier, then jettison into the surrounding walls. His voice was low and even, and way too calm. “Maybe your master awareness hasn’t kicked in yet, or maybe you haven’t all the way turned, but let me make sure we are clear.”
“All right,” she said quietly, keeping her distance from him as more pieces of the chandelier separated, cracked, and whizzed past her to lodge in the door. “Talk to me.”
“There are many types of bites we can deliver.” Carlos paused, drew a deep breath, as though steadying himself.
She waited. Not even blinking.
“No self-respecting council-level master would ever allow some stray vamp tail to plunge his jugular! No one but you has been near my throat since I’ve turned.”
Upon his statement, furious energy rippled up the winding staircase, popping out banister posts, exploding open the doors throughout the second floor.
“I don’t care if it’s a Roman orgy, and I don’t care what type of entity attempts a seduction, a council master never takes it in the throat!” Carlos turned away from her and began walking deeper into the house and then returned, his breathing escalating as he spoke. “We deliver the ultimate bite, not take it, and we give it good, baby. Believe that. If we feed a lower level, or allow a passion nick,” he said, speaking now through
fangs and extending his arm to demonstrate, “it’s at the wrist or the inside of the elbow, never at the throat—our power center.”
Damali tilted her head, his rage an ebbing concern, her curiosity fueling her confidence. “Then . . . why—”
Every window on the first floor blew out, leaving the curtains to flutter wildly in the gathering night wind.
“A throat offering is the highest level of trust and respect. It’s a bond, dammit! A siphon there is a mark, a permanent one. You only give that to your eternal mate, your queen. That’s the only one you allow into your head, trusting that her lock on your thoughts is only about the survival of both of you. So, hell no, I’m not going to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way against four masters!”
He closed his eyes, trembling. She wasn’t sure if it was from rage, passion, frustration, or the combination. Instinct told her not to speak, and to ride it out, just listen to him.
“It is the ultimate power you can bestow, because it makes you vulnerable to her. Where I come from, power is not ceded, it’s taken. So when it’s given willingly, with intent, it is a serious alliance.” Carlos leveled his gaze at her; the intense magnetic pull of it was so great that she almost lost her balance where she stood. “You’re supposed to always side with me against anyone and anything—even finding this key! That you are standing here, questioning my judgment is so wrong, D, there are no words!”
“I am not trying to challenge your love for me, baby,” she said, her voice soothing. “But you knew what I was before we even got together.”
“The bites I delivered, Damali, were pure passion, which is why your wounds seal immediately when I pull out. Those transmit only the most excruciating pleasure, and radiate through your body until you weep. If I had meant to turn you, trust me, it would not have been pleasant. And if I had delivered a mind-control nick, you wouldn’t even know your own fucking name right now.”
She watched the way his lungs drew in and slowly released the air around them, monitoring the fact that he ran his tongue across his incisors but they never retracted.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his gaze on her hard. “You didn’t trust me not to run on you. So, here we are. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, like I said. Now, you’ve gone Neteru on me again and want to save the whole goddamned world.”
“I didn’t know, then, that the biblical key was missing.”
“Neither did I, but still. When you dropped fang, my judgment got compromised,” he admitted, his voice lowering a silky octave as his gaze raked her.
She instantly felt her body respond, making her become wet and swollen, just from the memory. Her nipples hardened and stung. Her body temp rose, making her face burn, and she took in small sips of air while fighting to hold her ground.
“What you delivered wasn’t a feed bite, either,” he murmured, his voice gravelly. “Woman, you have no concept. That shit will make you drool on yourself.” He breathed in shallow inhales, then seemed to gather enough control to continue. “You almost nicked an artery, you went in so deep, so hard, so fast, and for so long. Once you were in, it was all over—it felt so damned good that I couldn’t even nick you that first time, fangs down, notwithstanding. Now you want me to walk away from you and allow you to run headlong into some insane mission that will no doubt get you smoked. Never.”
“You could have—”
“Stopped? Not bitten you back? Are you crazy?”
Carlos dragged his fingers through his hair, staring at her. “Me pull out, then? Impossible. Make you stop? Never happen. The wound wouldn’t even immediately seal when you lifted your head from my throat. But in that state, I would have let you bleed me out dry.”
“But I picked up that you wanted . . .”
“I did, baby. You have no idea how much. I ain’t gonna lie—but only from you. That was my darkest fantasy, but I tried to tell you not to go there. I almost begged you to stop playing with me like that.” He shook his head, and broke eye contact with her. “Masters have an Achilles’ heel, too, you know, and you’ve been mine for a long time, girl.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just didn’t understand that it was . . . I mean, that, I didn’t—”
“Trust,” he said, cutting her off, speaking slowly with a lethal quality to his words, “that I didn’t have some bitch on my mind.”
All she could do was nod, and look away from him. What was there to say?
He turned away and stretched out his arm, leaning on the cracked plaster of the wall, studying the ruined floor. “Then I had to suffer the ultimate humiliation and show your people just how bad it was, and they still didn’t understand, didn’t get it—that I wasn’t feeding you from my wrists. You weren’t on your knees as some submissive, scrambling for a blood hit. You’re my fucking equal, and I tried to show them that. I had to stand there and listen to your boys question whether or not I knew when I’d delivered a turn bite or not, like I’m some damned amateur!”
“But at the compound, that was a feeding,” she said fast. “I was—”
She stepped back two paces when his fist took out a section of the wall and he pushed away from it, his eyes glowing crimson.
“You are pissing me off, D! Even a feeding at the throat from a mate sends nothing but pleasure. That shit is so erotic that it makes time stand still. But after the bite, I didn’t have it in me to explain it. I had to get out of there. Now they think I’m Satan.”
When she didn’t answer, he looked at her with total fury blazing in his eyes. “Don’t you ever take me there again. Don’t you know how private an exchange that is? And don’t you know by now that’s the most vulnerable moment for a master to be in? If they were to open my lair in the daylight, I would still have enough strength and awareness to take a body before I torched. But during a mate bite, of any kind, fuck it, they could smoke me before I’d ever know what hit me. I didn’t even hear my own marked man, Berkfield, calling me. My lieutenants did! Your mate can only give you pleasure or open you up like that, that’s why you choose one with care!” He walked in a hot circle. “And that’s why they were able to take an innocent that had my mark of protection on him, while I was with you tonight!” He pointed a her. “Fuck a key.”
She covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes. “Oh, shit . . .”
“Yeah. Oh shit. And I stood up for you in front of a room full of armed Guardians wide-open, totally blitzed. Die with honor—please. Then I send my squad off on boundary security detail, just to save your team and try to salvage my pride in front of my boyz, because I knew the details of this situation would come out on the south lawn! Don’t you ever question how I feel about you!”
He flung the heavy front door open so hard that it banged against the side glass panels before it left its hinges, shattering what remained of them. “I’m taking your ass to the edge of the compound lights, and I’ll pray that you live. But don’t fucking call me, hear? What? Live in exile from you for four or five hundred years, if I’m lucky, or until I get dusted? I want you out of my system, Damali! So, don’t start that shit, don’t mess with me in dreams, do not go down memory lane and dredge up one of our encounters, especially not St. Lucia in your mind, or ever think about that last bite. Purge it. Don’t even take that one to the grave. I can feel past the grave, remember, even if you’re gone! Do not make my already jacked-up life a living hell. Fair? You know what this shit is like.”
“I’m going after the key, Carlos. If I live, I’ll do the best I can,” she whispered, as the winds he called swept around him. “Because if I do accidentally think about us, it’ll only be ’cause I couldn’t help it. I’m human.”
Carlos didn’t say another word. He’d simply vanished. Weary from the confrontation, Damali looked at the mansion’s front doors, which were still hanging off their hinges. She glanced around for the dogs, but they, too, were nowhere to be found. They didn’t even growl when she walked deeper into the mansion, her gaze noting that the fissures in the walls, the broke
n-out windows, the shattered chandelier and banister posts, had not been repaired when Carlos vanished. This was bad. This was not Carlos. This was not how her man lived, or functioned.
Her feet moved on their own accord, drawing her deeper into the house, past the huge foyer, into the sumptuous living room, and then dining room, and she stood in the middle of the floor trying to figure out how to get down into his sealed lair. She’d never seen a trap door, or a way in—had only been transported in or out. Fact was, she wasn’t even sure where he’d gone.
“Carlos!” she yelled out, causing an eerie echo. “I owe you an apology, and just want one more word. Five minutes, tops.”
No response. She let her breath out hard. “Open the door.”
Not even the breeze from outside circulated in the abandoned house. Men.
She plunged the Isis sword into the polished floor, put her dagger in her jeans’ back pocket, and waited a moment before calling out again. “My team left me here with the Isis and you. That should count for something. Don’t you at least want to know why?”
Slowly the large west wall fireplace began to dissolve, giving way to a black opening and marble steps. Only a narrow gap existed, and she quickly grabbed her blade and slipped through it. Immediately, total darkness surrounded her.
Twelve glowing eyes blinked, something let out a low grumbling growl, and an unseen mass before her parted, sending six eyes to either side of the opening. Not even the torches were on, and she let her breath out hard as she passed the invisible beasts to descend the stairs, feeling the wall.
She couldn’t see a thing, and not even her night vision could help her. He’d obviously not just turned out the torches to create darkness, but had practically painted the air black. The oppressive density was suffocating, as she picked her way down the steps, and used her sword like a blind person uses a cane to detect furniture or foreign objects that might make her trip and fall.
Finally in some sort of clearing, she patiently gathered her thoughts, stood tall, and spoke as calmly as she could.
