Val stopped struggling, the desire to flee, even survive, swallowed by him. I’ll wait for him. Wait just a minute, until she recovered from the scare she'd had. That was a reasonable thing to do, wasn't it? She could leave later, after...something.
The vampires turned away from her, resuming their conversation. “The reason for her protection is none of your concern,” Lucas said. The words were cold and flat.
Why are my hands shaking?
I’m scared.
Why?
The vampire looked shocked and surprised at Lucas’ words, his features reminding her of a pale pug. “My lord, please, let's be reasonable. I came here to check on my new child, Oliver. He's having some trouble blending in, gone all homicidal. Very disappointing to be sure. This girl, Valerie you say, is with some Hunters. I have to defend myself.” He spread his arms out in a ‘isn’t it obvious’ sort of gesture.
Then he looked even more confused. “The girl even staked me! Look at that!” He lifted his shirt, a gray t-shirt that said, “The Pogues” on it and which now sported a bloody tear. His skin was parted nastily, the blood viscous and black. Not human.
“Did she?” Lucas said, almost sounding proud.
Valerie looked at the vampire’s torn flesh, shaking harder. I did that. The calmness was fracturing, tendrils of fear seeping through her mind like ivy. Once the fear consumed her, she’d run.
Lucas turned to look at her, a small frown on his face, as though both disappointed and surprised by her.
“She drew my blood, tried to kill me. Not sure why you have your panties in a twist to be frank.” He paused and looked at the golden vampire again. “Err...my lord.”
“She is forbidden. The punishment is death.” Lucas said, his gaze still fixed on Valerie.
The Irish vampire's eyes were wide in surprise and outrage, “She's not worth all that! What do you care about a Hunter’s daughter? Tell me what to do to make it right and I'll be on my way. Even take Oliver with me.” He tried to make his voice sound reasonable, but fear pitched it higher and the words ran together.
“Oliver will be dead soon.”
The man frowned and spoke angrily, “You will let the Hunters take my child? Be damned to you then!” He swung forward in a smooth arc, his fist flying towards Lucas' jaw, but Lucas moved, grabbing the hand in mid-air, inches from his face, holding back the vampire with ease. A terrible smile on his lips.
“You seek to attack me?” There was a hint of incredulity to Lucas’ words. “Perhaps Marion is correct and I should make more displays of my power.” Lucas squeezed the man’s hand hard and blood began to drip from his closed fist.
The vampire cried out in pain, kicking hard, wanting to break free of Lucas’ grasp. Lucas blocked the kick, squeezing harder and the vampire dropped to his knees in pain. Lucas let go and the man swayed for a moment, gripping his crushed hand protectively. Lucas punched him. But harder than it sounds. His fist making such solid contact that the vampire’s face was instantly altered, bones shattered, half of his skull slightly depressed.
Valerie scuttled away from the tree, Lucas’ compulsion suddenly falling away like unlocked chains. She stumbled to her feet but he was there in front of her, hand on her chin, wanting her to look at him, trying to take her will away.
She could feel his power directed at her— marching over her skin, waiting for her to open her eyes so she’d be his. Val kicked blindly, making contact with some unknown part of him, hearing a slight oomph in response. And then she was free. He wasn’t touching her. She opened her eyes, running forward—and he was in front of her.
This time the wave of power hurt, like a wave of acid taking her under instead of sea water. Her body halted, mid-motion and she waited. The pain vanished, like he’d whipped it away from her, but still she couldn’t run away.
Val breathed in and out, then a little faster, making her lungs do what she wanted instead of what he wanted. He wanted her calm, she worked to be wild.
She made her hands open wide, got her toes to curl. She turned, faced the two vampires, unable to leave but terrified of what was going on behind her. When her death came she wanted to see it. Figured the only way she’d get near a man that hot was if he was going to kill her.
Her vision cleared, and she saw that things had changed. While Lucas had been distracted, Mr. Irish had stabbed Lucas. The stake was embedded near his stomach.
Lucas pulled out the stake like removing lint from a sweater—casually, dismissively, as though it made not the slightest impact that he’d been stabbed. Then he tossed it aside andit landed at her feet.
She wanted to reach for it, but her body wouldn't move. What did it mean that he threw that to her?
His control broke again, and Valerie grabbed the stake, gripping it tightly in her right hand. When she looked up, the fight was finished. Mr. Irish was pinned to a tree, Lucas’ arms keeping the other still, as he struggled pathetically, only his head thrashing from side to side.
“Goddamn you, Lucas!” her attacker shouted angrily.
“No more talking,” Lucas said. Power laced his words and her ears rang from the vibration. The Irish man’s eyes widened but he didn’t speak, body tense with rage.
“Come to me, Valerie. Come and kill your attacker.” His voice was deep and caressing, rubbing over her skin like velvet, burrowing inside of her, the feeling intimate and alien at the same time.
She stopped herself from looking up, not wanting to meet his eyes again. She felt the need to go towards Lucas and do what he bid, but her heart thundered in protest. He’s dangerous. A killer. Going to him is stupid.
She walked forward.
Wait.
Valerie stopped and imagined her feet rooted into the ground like a tree trunk, refusing to move.
“Look to me,” Lucas commanded her gently.
Val made a frustrated sound of betrayal as her body acted without her consent, meeting his flat stare. His blue eyes were pale, shining brightly, almost oddly in the dark. She knew it when their eyes locked, felt it in a real and visceral way. One that was too intimate and personal.
“I release you to yourself.”
Valerie's whole body trembled and she felt fear spreading through her, all traces of calmness and restraint gone, like heavy wet clothing removed from her body.
“Kill him, Valerie. He attacked you.”
Huh. That’s a twist. She shook her head and dropped the stake, hands nerveless in fear. “No. I don't want to.”
“Worse will come for you. You must learn to protect yourself. I cannot be here at all times. Do it now and with my protection. No harm shall come to you by my hand.”
Her heart leaped. “Why?”
“Your fear is crippling.”
No shit.
“Do you want me to compel you? Take your fear from you?” The words were gentle, without judgment for her cowardice but her eyes welled with tears.
“There is no shame in not wanting to be as strong as others expect you to be.” His tone matched the dark night around them.
She couldn't speak, panic overwhelming her again. Val took a step backwards and heard Jack's voice calling for her in the distance.
“Valerie, look to me,” he said quietly, urging her to trust him. The words were stilted and she realized he had an accent. Nothing easily identifiable, more like he'd spoken dozens of languages over the centuries, acquiring a small accent from each of them. It was lyrical, beautiful even.
And totally irrelevant.
“Why?” The question was insufficient for what she wanted to know. Why would he protect her? Why choose her over a vampire he knew? Why did he care whether she killed a vampire or not? Why did he care whether she lived or died?
“Violence has touched you. Taken from you and you need to know your own strength in return.”
She felt a lump in her throat and it made it hard to talk. “What's it to you?” Val dreaded the answer, had no idea what it might be, but was afraid nonetheless.
Lucas ignored her, the
quiet of the night registering during the pause.
“Shall I help you?” he said like she was a spooked horse.
She stared hard at the ground. “Compel me, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Will you...release me again?” Why was she even thinking of trusting him? Because he hasn’t killed me yet. She wanted to freeze time so she could think it through, but she only had this moment, and if she didn't keep up, he'd make her fate for her.
The vampire was still struggling, but it was as futile as a moth struggling when a child has it by the wings.
Decide. Run or stay. Her heart pounded ten times louder than the words. But he was a vampire, he'd hear it anyway. “Make me then.”
Val looked back to him almost aggressively, deciding to own her decision. She threw herself into his eyes like jumping off a cliff. His will surrounded her until she was floating in the warm sea of his blue eyes, watching actions that belonged to someone else.
It was someone else who gripped the stake tighter. Someone else who walked forward, eye level with the monster who had just been about to kill her. And behind him was Lucas his large presence overshadowing everything else. She smoothed the rumpled Pogues t-shirt, wanting to hit his heart on the first try.
She struck hard and fast but the stake didn't go in far enough. Val tried again, using two hands and pressing forward, all of her weight pushing forward. It was like cutting a grisly steak with a plastic knife.
“Harder,” Lucas said.
Val heard a grunt— her own— and pushed, her arms burning with exertion, until the stake slid forward and the vampire paused in mid-struggle.
His skin turned ashen then disintegrated, bones falling around the stake and clunking to the ground before her, dust settling on her tennis shoes. Her momentum carried her forward, the stake still raised, about to pierce Lucas. Deftly, he turned and caught her, his strong hands gripping her arms, keeping her and the stake away from him.
“I think one vampire is sufficient for tonight,” he said dryly.
Val stepped backwards and looked up into his eyes. She thought of a gas fire, the blue that surrounded the flames, the same color and heat of his eyes.
“I release you,” he said softly, looking down at her.
Valerie came back to herself, the blue ocean throwing her out, cold night air biting through her clothing, her shin painful and still bleeding. She looked down at the wound, then back up but Lucas was gone.
She heard Jack calling her. Dropping the stake, she ran; calling for Jack and her father, tripping over tree roots and slipping on damp leaves as she followed Jack's voice back to the car.
Her father looked her over, disappointment, maybe even irritation, etched on his face. “See Jack, I told you she was fine. You think that's a funny game, Valerie? Run off into the woods and scare us witless? If you couldn't help, or I guess wouldn't help, then you should have stayed in the car. You were stupid and reckless, Valerie.” Her father strode to the driver's side of the car and got in, leaving Val in the cold night air.
She supposed she should tell him what had happened. But she didn’t want to.
Did she fear Lucas? Hell, yeah! She wasn’t a total idiot. But would he hurt her?
No.
Her mind and body knew it, the answer resonating through her like the vibrations of a bell. Part of her wondered how she could know, wondered at the risk she was willing to take, and then that worry resolved too. Irrationally, she knew. He wouldn’t hurt her.
They drove home in silence and Valerie went to bed thinking about Lucas and her decision to stay quiet. He'd known her name, protected her, and tried to help her get over her fear. Even though she hadn't been in control of her actions, she felt a little better, like she'd kind of done it, and could maybe protect herself in the future.
He was like Lucifer, the angel so beautiful that all others paled in comparison. Men didn't look like him, features so bold and striking, so harsh and perfect that he was frightening. When she thought about boys, she thought about Jack. She spent most of her time imagining kissing Jack, she'd even dreamed about it.
Lucas was not a boy.
Lucas wasn’t the stuff of girlish fantasies. He was too predatory to fantasize about. It was like a kitten admiring a lion. Val pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away, and was glad she’d decided to say nothing about Lucas. She didn’t want to think about him, have Nate and Jack talk about him. They couldn’t do anything anyway. Lucas had crushed that other vampire with a punch. She knew who Lucas was. All the Hunters did. He was their leader. King. And he could kill her and her family with one careless swipe of his arm.
And if she told them about Lucas they’d have questions. Questions she didn’t have the answers too and that she didn’t want said aloud. She was alive tonight because of him.
Why did he come for me?
Why did he save me?
What does he want?
And worst of all…when will he come back for me?
Chapter 2
San Loaran, California
5 years ago
Jack was sitting in the kitchen, his mouth watering in hunger as he listened to his parents bicker about the Italian government.
A pot boiled on the stove, steam hissing and rolling outwards. But it wasn’t just ready, it was…jumping, lightly hopping on the stove— like it had a message of life and death, if only someone would take off the lid.
He didn’t want to dream this again.
He stared at the pot, its shiny silver surface and- there it was- a faint blue, twinkling reflection. The twinkle altered, changed shape until it was a blue form, small and distant but becoming larger.
She’s close now.
The sound of birds, wings flapping, their bodies sighing, filled his ears and echoed off the kitchen walls. He could feel them beating against his eardrums.
That’s not right.
There were no birds, it was the heavy swish of rustling silk, and it grated on his nerves, like biting into chalk.
Time to turn around now.
Time to see her coming.
His heart thumped and he picked up his butter knife. His father laughed. His mother smiled. They didn’t know that death was hurtling down the corridor like a freight train.
And then she was there. His mother fell to the ground, neck broken, happening in between one blink and the next. His father’s face was in his food, body limp, soul already gone, leaving Jack sitting at the kitchen table, a butter knife clenched pathetically tight, a useless protection against her.
Marion’s sapphire silk skirts blotted out the rest of the world.
She walked around the little kitchen table where he’d eaten every meal of his life. She whispered to him and teased, sounding like a coquette.
Three, four times, she walked around the table. Like playing duck, duck, goose: the agony of her walking behind him, the tension of knowing she’d passed him, but was coming around again. And when she picked him, he’d be dead.
He saw her make the decision, a slight pout marring her dark smile, as she reached out, in infinite slowness, her bony hand outstretched towards him.
Move. Run. Scream. Do something!
Instead, he sat frozen, looking at his mother and then his father, memorizing their features and this moment….
Love is Darkness (A Valerie Dearborn Novel) Page 3
