Hastily perceiving my embarrassment, he hugged me protectively against his chest. "It's okay, we're almost to the elevator. Keep walking," he soothed. And then, in a voice that carried, he shouted, "She's been in a car accident. No worries. Ignore us and go on about your business."
Regrettably, his mind mojo wasn't nearly as effective as Isabella's. Our audience didn't hurriedly return to their affairs. In fact, many of them stared at us even more. Nevertheless, their faces did shift from appalled horror to disgusted annoyance. A sign that they'd accepted his explanation of the car accident at least.
Hopefully it'd be enough to stop 'em from calling the cops. Either way, the authorities were sure to track me down at some point. I mean, as we moved, I literally left behind a trail of blood. A crimson line connecting me with the pile of decapitated bodies at the bar. It'd only be a matter of time before people started asking questions.
"Oh, shit! Ouch!" I yelped, holding onto my hand as I simultaneously trembled in agony.
"Come on, keep going," Lucien coaxed, pulling me into the elevator. "I realize you're injured but we must move. A couple more steps."
"Crap! I know, it's just that..." Head spinning, I paused to inspect my fingers. Strangely, other than the gash across my palm, nothing seemed wrong with them. My pinky, which throbbed like it'd been severed, appeared to be perfectly normal. Okay, maybe I was going crazy. Sigh.
So, with Lucien's help, I stepped into the elevator. He pushed the button for our floor, while I tried to blink back the pain and catch my breath. Then, right as the bell signaled that we were on our way up, I got a really bad feeling. This was above and beyond what I already felt from being stabbed multiple times. It permeated my consciousness down to the deepest level of my soul. Death.
"Lucien," I mumbled, examining him with hazy eyes. "Um, I'm a little out of it. But, uh, I'm getting an awful vibe."
He nodded in agreement, however, his attention remained centered upon my wounds. "Yeah, the shit just hit the fan. Here, I better take a look at..."
"My finger," I panted, interrupting him by holding my blood-soaked hand close to his face. "And stuff's going weird in my head. It's like I'm dying."
"Try clinching your fist, it'll slow the bleeding," he instructed, prior to ripping a piece of fabric from his t-shirt and fastening it tightly around the gash on my shoulder. "Your neck's clotted. It's superficial."
"Seriously, I don't think this is from blood loss. It's something else. I can't quite..." Oh my God! And I instantly knew; it was Amelia! "C'mon on you goddamned elevator!" I screamed, shaken to my core. "C'mon!"
"Amelia's in trouble?"
"Yeah, it's definitely her." My heartbeat pounded as I sensed her strength slipping away. She was losing blood, fading from this existence. We had very little time...
And so, I waited impatiently as the elevator completed its journey and the doors gradually slid open. Then I summoned every last ounce of remaining energy and ran dead-on toward our suite. I vaguely recollect Lucien yelling, warning me to let him enter first. Regardless, his words didn't register. All I could feel was that small life, that life for which I was responsible, sucking in its final breath.
Sprinting, I arrived to find our room's door ajar and burst in without breaking pace. Although, when I saw the living room's horrific scene, I lurched to a halt. Chills promptly slithered along my spine and I thought I might toss my cookies. Amelia, my poor sweet Amelia.
She lay lifeless on the couch. Pinkie finger missing. Blood everywhere. I took in her ashen skin, a sharp contrast to her red flannel shirt, as I examined her chest. My eyes prayed for the slightest movement, even the smallest signal of her breathing. And I saw nothing.
Adding fuel to the fire, Dawn was situated to her left. She wore the same dingy club clothes she'd arrived in earlier that day, except now they were coated in congealing blood from a jagged cut that extended across the entire front of her neck. Deceivingly, her blue-tinged lips parted into a peaceful expression, while the fresh mascara streaks glistening on her colorless cheeks told the real tale. Her death had been a painful one. She'd been afraid.
"They're dead," an irritatingly familiar male voice drawled from behind me.
Immediately about-facing, I saw William and Petrus standing side-by-side. The smug looks on their faces accompanied their pretentious black suit and red tie uniforms flawlessly. Fucking William! Of course, he was up to his elbows in this macabre chain of events. And, Tsedaka, well, he'd probably sent Isabella to hunt me down in the first place. That sceezy bastard!
Just then, before I could take action, Lucien placed himself between me and our attackers. He brandished his pocketknife, holding it like a sword. After which, he discharged a menacingly guttural growl as his fangs extended. The kind, boyish face I'd grown comfortable with morphed easily into one of a ruthless killer ready to trade his life for mine.
Despite everything spiraling out of control, one goal presented itself above all others. And that was saving Amelia's life. So, I ran to her and felt the nonexistent pulse at her neck. She wasn't breathing, yet her skin retained its warmth which meant she hadn't been unconscious for long. As a result, I fiercely dug my trembling fingernails into the partially clotted wound on my palm. Bleed, you piece of shit! Bleed!
Wasting no time, I leaped onto the couch and lifted Amelia into my lap. And, yeah, I know this sounds disgusting but, as I did it, Dawn's body slipped forward and gurgled loudly. Air escaping her lungs. Jeesh. Nonetheless, I grimaced only briefly prior to repositioning Amelia's head so that my blood would be able to trickle down her throat unhindered.
"As I said, they're dead," William grunted, attempting to delay the progress of my half-baked scheme. "You can't change her, princess. She's too far gone."
"Screw off!" I snapped, hating him with every bone in my body. Granted, my understanding of vamp life was rather limited, being newly made and all. Still, I had to try my best to save her. And I definitely wouldn't believe that creep. He was a total liar.
The memory of dancing for him at the club and our consequent sexual attraction, caused me to shudder. I despised my own foolishness, my ridiculous acceptance of his phony act. Perhaps Isabella'd been right, maybe I was nothing more than a naïve little girl...
"Princess," Petrus interjected apologetically. "It wasn't our intention to kill your slave. We merely wanted to learn your location. The unsanctioned one's life, on the other hand, had to be terminated per the king's instructions."
"So what? It's okay to take a life if the stupid king orders it? And it's acceptable to have done this to Amelia seeing that you only intended on torturing her? You sick sons of bitches! You cut off her finger and let her die in a puddle of her own blood." Plus, why'd they keep calling me princess? I mean, they knew I abhorred being referred to by the pompous title the old man forced upon me.
"We heard of Lady Isabella's plot to kill you on this night," Petrus explained. "The king sent us to ensure that it didn't occur. I'm aware that we acted in haste..."
"Sorry to break it to you, dickwads, but you're about an hour too late," I growled, waving my hands in the air. "See this blood, these wounds? They're from that hoe bag and her three guards. And no need to worry, I took care of 'em. I'm not as helpless as you might think." Pausing, I squinted from one to the other in revulsion. "Since I apparently solved my own problem, there's no reason for you guys to be here. Don't let the door hit you in the ass."
As my words registered in Petrus's mind, his eyes grew round and his jaw slackened. "You actually killed Lady Isabella and her guards? That's no small feat."
"Yep, that's what I said," I sneered, making a scooting motion toward the door. "Now, get a move on."
William, unfazed by my antics, cleared his throat and tapped his foot impatiently. "You also have a few things to answer for at high court. The king wishes to hold a formal trial for your grievances against his honor."
"Yeah, I'm sure. A formal execution with my head displayed on a pike," I quipped. Abruptly, I shove
d my bleeding hand above Amelia's mouth, refusing to squander another moment. Please god, bring her back! She wasn't supposed to die this way. Not over me. Not while being tortured.
"Girlie, you're extremely weak," Lucien thought to me, his worry and apprehension surging across our bond. "Do you truly believe this is wise? Given our current situation? You remember how much changing me drained you, right? Furthermore, what if she transforms into a black demon? We aren't prepared for this."
"I'm not gonna let her die, Lucien. I'm just not! I don't care if she becomes a monster. I'll still love her..." Faltering, I rubbed her throat to help her swallow. Drink Amelia! C'mon, live! Please god! Help us!
And, unfortunately, this is how it went for awhile. I prayed and waited. Waited and prayed. Although, in the end, she didn't breathe or even twitch an eyelid. There was no loving feeling reminiscent of Lucien's change. Likewise, I didn't see into her memories or sense anything at all from her. Our once loving connection had grown into a cold, silent void. The unfathomable absence of a life stolen before its time.
Begrudgingly accepting defeat, I glared at Tsedaka's puppets. "I'm gonna destroy you for this!" I bellowed, allowing rage to mask my burning eyes and the beginnings of tears.
Nonchalantly, William curled his lips into a faint grin and stepped forward. "You must come with us, princess. We'll send a cleaning crew to deal with this mess."
"No, she won't!" Lucien growled, placing a hand on William's chest to stop his progress.
"Oh, how cute," William chuckled, meeting Petrus's his eyes. "The boy thinks he can take us both."
Petrus's chiseled face cracked an amused smile. "Doubtful." And with blurring speed, he pulled a gun from a hidden inner coat holster and shot my protector in the stomach.
Instantly, Lucien groaned and was pushed several steps back by the force. To his credit, he didn't fall. He simply doubled over partway and snarled. Seconds later, a small circle of blood was forming on both sides of his shirt. An indication that the bullet went clean through.
"Leave him alone!" I screamed, rapidly launching myself from the couch. In my rush, I inadvertently caused Amelia's and Dawn's bodies to crumple onto the floor in a limp pile. I regretted having treated their remains so haphazardly. Nevertheless, I needed to transfer my efforts onto the one I could save rather than those who were already gone.
"Stay back, girlie!" Lucien warned, perceiving my movement without taking his eyes off our enemies.
And, of course, I didn't listen to him. Instead, I marched to his side and grabbed his hand. Then, with all my strength, I thought, "Stop! Everything stop!"
Right away, my eyes began searching the room and eventually focused on William. I noticed the tiny movements throughout his menacing face. The blinking eyelids, the jaw twitching, the bulging vein at his temple. And it hit me. Time didn't freeze! Crap!
"Too weak, are we?" William chided, his arrogant laughter filling the room.
"Fuck off!" I hissed, kicking myself for not keeping the sword from earlier. In desperation, I adopted a fighting stance and tried to force my teeth to extend much the same as Lucien's had. Maybe I could bite a chunk out of 'em or something. However, even with the enticing aroma of Amelia's blood in the air, I was still unable to make it happen. Stage fright, stress, fear? What in the...
Suddenly, Petrus lunged forward and tackled Lucien to the ground. And, by the way, props to my supercharged vamp senses for enabling me to see the flurry of movements. Nonetheless, watching them tumble about put my nerves on edge and I desperately wanted to intervene. Regardless, I wasn't given the chance.
In a flash, William unsheathed a scary looking knife from his belt. And I knew he meant it for me. The bastard stood unmoving, shoulders squared, skin glistening with sweat, eyes scrutinizing me as if I were his prey. Then he discharged one final chuckle before hurling himself at me with the force of a freight train. He effortlessly immobilized my hands with one arm and proceeded to slash an excruciatingly deep cut into my throat, slicing well into my carotid.
Collapsing onto the floor, I urgently gasped for breath. Yet, I was only gifted with a liquidy crimson throb in return. A couple feet in front of me, Lucien's body lay lifelessly in an ever-expanding pool of blood. Despite the evidence to the contrary, my intuition forced me to be optimistic. We were vampires after all. And his head hadn't been removed.
"Lucien! Can you hear me? Are you okay?" I questioned, plunging the words through our bond. No response. Nothing. Dead air.
Shaky and cold, I felt my life deteriorating, gushing in hard spurts across the carpet. And, all too quickly, I grasped the severity of my injuries. This might be it, the end. Was there a place in heaven for freaky abominations like me? Would my mom be awaiting my arrival? A white light tunnel, perhaps?
In short order, I comprehended that my thoughts were rapidly becoming incoherent. Therefore, I decided to use the last of my strength to reach out with my mind for help. "Adrian, I need you! Listen! This is for real, Adrian! Quit ignoring me!" And, as my consciousness swiftly faded, I pushed a vision of the night's events in his direction. Sadly, I didn't receive any indication as to whether or not he'd gotten my message, just a visual field of twinkling stars and, ultimately, the emptiness of blackness.
Chapter 23
I gradually opened my eyes and, similar to many of the other times I'd awoken after passing out in the last few weeks, I found myself in a cement room. Back to the cold floor, gray walls, and isolation I'd recognize anywhere. Dear old daddy's screwed up high court. Damn! Where was a premonition dream when a girl needed one? Sigh. Well, to look on the bright side, at least I wasn't dead yet.
As I used my hand to inspect the cut on my neck that'd incapacitated me so easily, I rapidly discovered that my movements were hindered. Sturdy, houdini-proof shackles chained my limbs to the floor. I also noticed that my coat, shoes, and socks had been removed. The douche bags'd only left me with the blood encrusted t-shirt and jeans I'd been wearing during the attack. If I did break free, it'd be a frostbitten bitch of a run.
And my hair, don't even get me started on that. The long blonde strands were sticky with blood to the point that they clumped around me in disgusting crimson dreadlocks. Can you say the word bath, dickheads? Yeah right, they'd leave me here to suffer. Last time I'd slept in my own squalor for days before finally being given the opportunity to clean up. Welcome back to hell!
Oh, and guess what? There's more. In addition to everything else, there was this awful buzzing. It came from a flickering florescent bulb attached to the vaulted ceiling above me. A constant hum, unceasing. And its resonance vibrated my inner ear annoyingly, compounding an already unbearable migraine.
Desperately, I searched the room with my eyes in hopes of finding relief in the form of a light switch. Instead, I saw a door located about ten feet in front of me. Its thick metal and tiny grated window put my situation into a more full perspective. Supposing I did manage to stop time. With the impassable door, inescapable shackles, and improper clothing standing like a jailer in between me and the free world, I'd never escape. Shit!
I shook my head in defeat, painfully coming to the understanding that my neck wound hadn't healed. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, which was good, but the muscles were barely beginning to restitch themselves. The stabbing tingle descending from my neck to the base of my spine made that exceedingly apparent. Also, the throbbing of my shoulder and hand, where Isabella'd injured me, indicated that they hadn't healed either. I needed to feed.
Of course, along with that realization came the dry nagging of the putrid taste coating my tongue. The one left over from my own blood surging up my esophagus. And, like a total dumb ass, I tried to swallow. For future reference, nobody should ever swallow with a throat sliced open as badly as mine. The pain, if you could call it by that simplistic of a term, was the most searingly severe I'd ever experienced. It caused me to jump nearly a foot off the ground and the metal shackles to clatter loudly against the concrete.
With no
furnishings in my cell to dampen the noise, the uncomfortable racket echoed for several minutes. I simply cringed and wished I could scream. And, yeah, I assumed screaming, or making the tiniest sound with my voice for that matter, would be far too excruciating. I mean, it hurt to even breathe.
So, I waited. And, ultimately, the torment simmered down, thank god, enabling me to move my mind in the direction of my protector. "Lucien, Lucien, can you hear me?" Immediately pausing, I gave him a chance to respond. Yet, I heard nothing. "Lucien! Come on! Are you there? Are you alive? Lucien!" Did Petrus and William kill him? Or was he being held in a cell similar to mine and, for some reason, lacked the ability to communicate? "Lucien! Lucien!" Dead air, silent as the grave.
Pulse racing, my thoughts moved toward Adrian. I wondered if my message, my desperate cry for help, had gotten to him. "Adrian, can you hear me?" I sent the question and waited, exactly as I'd done with Lucien. And I received no answer. "Adrian! Adrian! Answer me! I'm sorry for telling you to stay away. Please, I need your help! If you'll get me outta here, I'll do anything you want. I'll come live with you. Seriously, whatever you ask of me. Hello! Adrian, are you listening?" Silence. Shit! Shit! Shit!
Promptly, fear engulfed me and my breathing quickened to the point that the spasms deep within my throat were at a constant flutter. What if they'd killed Lucien? And what if Adrian decided to wash his hands of me? I'd made it overly clear that I didn't want him in my life. Crap! What was I supposed to do now? Lay here and die? Let Tsedaka display my severed head on a stake for everyone to see?
All the worrying and stressing must've completely drained my meager energy reserves because, almost as quickly as I awoke earlier, I began dozing off. And, since I didn't have better stuff to do, I gave in to it. I also figured a bit of shuteye might help me heal.
The Chalice (Luna Vampire Series) Page 20
