Salena cried softly for the woman whom she barely knew. Then she felt rage, why would he hurt that Gypsy? She was old, kind, and even rooted for him! How could she possibly be expected to swoon over a vicious killer? She got up, pacing her kitchen and biting her nails, when she heard her cell phone ringing in the bedroom. Who could be calling this early? Maybe it was Heloise again. What if she had another vision? Salena ran to get the phone.
It was Eric. He told her he was back in town for business and wanted to check up on her. He invited her to dinner, and she accepted with reluctance. She would be glad to see him, not that she could explain everything that has been going on, but she was mad that he was conveniently late for the funeral, when she'd really needed him. Also, last night with Rob would never have happened if he had been there.
Feeling a desperate need to clear her head, Salena went to the local lake to relax and think. So much has happened in just the course of one week, she thought she might lose her mind. Vampires, murdered friends, reincarnation theories, attempted rape, old boyfriends—how much can one person survive?
In the middle of her misery, she noticed a sting in her neck and got out her compact mirror to check the spot. There was a bite mark; however, it wasn't like the other bite marks she'd had recently—the vampire bite marks she'd had recently. This one was more like a blister and was painful. She had already been nauseous, which she attributed to the upsetting morning news, but now she thought it might be something else too. A trip to the doctor would be wise under normal circumstances, but nothing was normal about her life right now, so she decided to go home and check it out online first. She couldn't dare cry "vampire" in public, could she? Not even in New Orleans.
Salena felt utterly foolish researching vampire bite marks while examining the mark in a handheld mirror. Nothing quite matched, so she typed in the description and found, oddly enough, images for spider bites that closely matched. She was really expecting it to be vampire related too. She laughed at herself. Was she just losing her sanity? Then she remembered being bitten during her fabricated dream and looked down at her breast. Lifting her left breast up in the bra cup, she saw the bite mark on the underside. No, unfortunately, she was perfectly sane, even though the entire situation was full of lunacy.
She looked back at the computer screen and saw that the bite on her neck was most likely that of a brown recluse. Since they are poisonous, she carefully followed the treatment advice listed: she cleansed with anti-bacterial soap and then put a cold compress on it to reduce swelling and stop the spread of venom. She followed with some antihistamines and antibiotic ointment. There was nothing else to do but keep an eye on it.
Salina felt miserable, scared, and missed Jane; Jane was her only friend she could confide in. Not that she was sure how she would've brought this up to her. Karen had been more of a friend to Jane and there was no way she would involve Eric. The only person she can really discuss this with is Heloise, and she was pro vampire. In fact, the other gypsies were all for it too; was there a conspiracy among the supernatural? Thinking these crazy thoughts made her feel more out of touch with reality than she already felt, and given the absurdity of it all, she supposed the person she should confide in is a shrink.
Salena met Eric at the Red Fish Grill at eight o'clock for a late dinner. She didn't want him to come to the house first because she knew she wouldn't be able to resist him, just like last time, and then she'd feel foolish and used, just like last time. If she ever wanted to move on with her life, she had to cut the ties with him. This had to be their last "goodbye," she wasn't going to agree to see him anymore after this evening. She couldn't just be friends with benefits, and she couldn't live her life on his terms either, not that she was even sure he still wanted her to.
He was already at the restaurant and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Salena," he began after their drink order was placed, "I need to apologize. I shouldn't have made love to you the other night. It was just so familiar being back in that house with you again, and even with you splattered in paint," he added, smiling.
"Yeah, it was familiar for me too," she agreed and started to feel flushed from the memory of it.
"But it was a mistake. I shouldn't have done that. I'm engaged, Salena."
This was like throwing a bucket of ice on her. "What?" she shrieked, causing many heads to turn in their direction. "Why the hell did you even call me then? Apparently, you've gotten over us already, but it still hurts for me!" she could feel the tears welling up.
"I know. And I called you because I wanted to tell you in person about her, but when I saw you, everything came flooding back. It hurt me too when we broke up. I really did want to have a life together, but I was done here," he gestured openly. "I was done in New Orleans." His eyes stared deeply into hers, pleading for forgiveness.
Salina blotted at her tears with her cloth napkin and looked up at his shameful expression. She was prepared to give him a very big piece of her mind, but then the power went out. It wasn't just the restaurant either, it was everywhere; it was completely black.
The sound of crashing dishes and nervous customers filled the restaurant, while blaring car horns and squealing tires filled the night air. Salena sat completely still, afraid to move as she felt people bumping into her. "Eric?" she called out in the dark but received no answer. Then there was a hand—a warm and strong hand—on her cheek, and then another on the other side; they were followed by lips on hers that were soft but strong, warm, comforting, and inviting. How could he put the move on me again, after what he just told me? How could I let him? Because she loved him—still. She accepted the kiss and reached up to run her hands through his short, thick blonde hair. But what she felt wasn't Eric's hair—it was long hair. She broke away about to scream, but the lips and the hands were gone. Then she realized it; that wasn't Eric's musk either.
The lights came back on, showing food and broken dishes everywhere and an empty seat across from Salena. Just like that, he'd abandoned her without a word. Unless, he didn't have a choice...
Salena left quickly. She didn't want to be sitting there if Eric did come back, and she certainly didn't want to be sitting there if the other person came back. Person? Nope, vampire. She thought now of the long hair her hands had run through; it was the same long hair in her dream. Or, at least, what she'd thought was a dream at the time.
She rushed inside and locked the door. Her cell phone rang, startling her, and she assumed it was Eric—but it wasn't.
"Salena, leave the house now!" Heloise commanded her. "There's no time to explain; just get out of there now and come straight here. Hurry! Go!" then the line was dead.
Scared witless, Salena grabbed her purse and ran back to her Ford Focus. But just as she opened the car door, a brown owl dove at her, with its talons out. It managed to grab a chunk of her hair and scratch her scalp while she flung her arms wildly. Finally, she managed to get into her car, and she slammed the door shut, catching the tip of one of the owl's wings. The bird flapped crazily while she was backing up, until it finally freed itself from its prison. Salena felt blood in her hair from the scratch, and, while she was frightened by the bird's attack, she had no idea how lucky she was to leave when she did.
"Damn!" Gabriel cursed himself for stopping off for a snack on the way to Salena's house. The hooker didn't even taste good. Rubbing his arm now, hurt from the car door, he cursed into the night air, "Bitch! This isn't over." And it wasn't; he'd get even with her–he'd break both of her arms before he finished her off.
He decided to vent his anger, for now, on her tidy, little house. He burst in through the front door and smashed everything in sight. He broke antiques and priceless mementos and ripped into the material on her furniture as well. Then, for his brother's sake, he went into her bedroom and marked his territory by urinating around her bed. Before he could continue his path of destruction, though, he was stopped.
Devin tackled his brother, crashing to the floor on top of him, trying to reach his throat, so
he could tear it out. He gave a forceful blow to Gabriel's shoulder and arm; the same arm that was already injured, unbeknownst to him.
Gabriel let out a yelp of pain and delivered a blow of his own to Devin's jaw. He was just as strong as Devin, and it was proving to be an even battle. He growled at him, "I'm going to have her too, brother. I've already tasted her sweet blood."
Devin, consumed with fury, used the flat of his hand to deliver a violent punch, pushing Gabriel's chin upward to expose his throat, and he went for it. "You will not touch her!" his threat came just as his teeth made contact with Gabriel's throat.
As soon as his brother made contact with his exposed skin, Gabriel used all of his strength and bucked. He used both fists to punch Devin in his chest, sending him flying off. Then, once freed, he hopped up, chuckling, and answered the threat—with blood spilling from his neck—"She's mine now," and dashed away before Devin could catch him.
Gabriel had, fortunately, been prepared for this battle and his otherwise mortal wound. He'd seen a dark priest, Clive from the vampire tour actually, and obtained the herbs and spell he'd need. He had also gotten the blood he would need. Clive, whom he knew was a follower the evening of the tour, gave his own wife's blood for the cause; he gave enough for the spell that is. Now, in his native tongue, Gabriel rubbed the herbs into his throat, drank the vial of blood, and chanted:
Am invoca spiritele ºi vreau sã spun,
eu sunt obosit de acest lucru plictisitor vieþii,
nu este niciodatã nimic nou, totul este la fel
ºi nu existã nimic de a face,
astfel încât a ce vreau sã fie un vampir,
acum nimic nu va mai fi acelaºi,
bãut sângele cu sete extraordinare,
niciodatã nu fi domesticit.
Nimic dupa aceasta vraja funcþioneazã, toatã
umea va vedea, nu va mai fi aceeaºi, deci
mote fi.
Yes, he was feeling better already. The dark magic was working just as Clive had promised it would. Sadly, this was the only batch Gabriel had, so he couldn't sustain another fatal wound. And he couldn't go back to Clive for more because he was dead; Gabriel didn't want him around to help Devin as well. For good measure, he finished the wife off too. Now it was time to find the lovers...
Salena could hardly keep her car on the road; she was terrified to hear what Heloise must have seen. The five miles there seemed more like twenty, and despite her current state of panic, her eyes were feeling heavy. Finally, the cottage came into view. Salena had no idea, though, that she'd been followed by a couple of wolves when she pulled into the small driveway and immediately stepped out of the car.
Heloise was standing outside on the tiny porch holding her evil eye in one hand and a voodoo doll in the other. She yelled out to Salena, "Hurry, child, you are in great danger! Get inside!"
Salena shut the car door and began to run, but then something utterly horrifying stopped her. She witnessed Heloise being tackled by a large brown wolf. "No!" she screamed just as the wolf bit into her friend's throat, causing blood to spurt out everywhere. Then the wolf turned on her.
Salena tried desperately to get back into her car, but she didn't make it in time; she had the wind knocked out of her, and liquid fire blazed through her shoulder as teeth made contact with her flesh and bone. She knew it was over when she felt hot breath and drool on her throat; but instead of being ripped into once more, her body was wracked with convulsions, and she could feel it soaring through the air before crashing into something hard. Then she felt nothing—all was black.
Devin, still shape-shifted into a black wolf and filled with all the rage, ferocity, and fires of hell, had flown through the air and tackled Gabriel just as he was about to rip into Salena's throat. Devin's fangs made contact with Gabriel's neck, and he bit down hard.
Unfortunately, Gabriel had turned his body in time to avoid fatal contact. There was a yelp loud enough to wake the dead, though, so damage had definitely been inflicted, again. But he escaped before Devin could finish what he'd started and before Gabriel, himself, could finish what he'd started with Salena.
Devin carried Salena into the Gypsy's house, pressing his shirt on her shoulder to try to slow down the bleeding. It took a lot of restraint because her blood was calling to him like the singing of a thousand angels; his love overcame his thirst, though, blessedly.
He laid her down on the sofa and knelt before her, weeping hard, which he had not done since Abigail was taken from him. He had not been able to save Abigail, but he would not let Salena die! He wracked his brain, trying to think of something he could chant, something he could do—something from the old world. Lord knows he has been around long enough to have learned something! The old Gypsy woman surely has tools that will help: potions, herbs, spells, anything to save his soul mate. He ran through her cottage grabbing books and rummaging through her cupboards for anything useful. He came across bottles of thyme, burdock root, ginger, and belladonna root, which reminded him of something he had learned during the black plague. He grabbed the bottles and ran back to Salena's side. He rubbed the ingredients into her wound while chanting an old Romanian healing spell:
Flori, sclipire ºi stralucesc
Lasa puterea voastrã strãluceascã
Aduce înapoi ceea ce a fost o datã a fost a
Schimba soarta design
Salveze ceea ce s-a pierdut
Aduce înapoi o datã ce a fost a mea
Odatã ce a fost a mea
He asked the Fates to turn back the clock and bring back what is his.
Then he waited...
Salena's eyes fluttered; she was waking up in the worst pain of her entire life, and her head was foggy. Trying to focus her eyes on her surroundings, she first became aware that she was in Heloise's parlor; secondly, she became aware that she could hear someone else breathing. She turned her head, slowly— there was an agonizing pain in her left shoulder—expecting to see Heloise. Her eyes met a pair of black eyes instead, and she jumped, sending more searing pain through her body while a flashback of poor Heloise went through her mind. "You!" she screamed at him, "You killed her!" She struggled to get up, but the pain was unbearable.
"No, no," he said softly, "it was Gabriel, not me. I'm sorry I didn't stop him in time; I'll never forgive myself for allowing him to hurt you or your friend."
Again, Salena struggled to get away, but the pain and the stranger, or the killer—or both—held her down. "Are you going to kill me too? Just get it over with!"
She had such terror in her eyes that tears shed slowly from his. He had to make her see; he had to make her understand their connection—now. With a feather-light touch, he stroked her face, which caused her to flinch and pull away; yet, he continued. He traced his fingers down her neck, to her injured shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt you. I love you. I want to protect you from evil like the man who was attacking you in his car the other night and from my brother, Gabriel, who wants to take you away from me."
Salena was blinking her eyes rapidly, as if that would change the sight before her. Then, she focused—really focused—on his face. "That wasn't a dream." It came out halfway as an accusation and halfway as a question. "You were there." Then she looked down at her clothing—stained with so much blood she winced—and at her breast. There it was—the faded bite mark. She jumped and looked at him with eyes full of terror and suspicion. "You are the vampire." She said it like she didn't already know the answer, like she hadn't known the answer for some time now. But she wanted to hear him admit it.
He looked at her with a soft expression, "No, you weren't dreaming." That made her blush a little. "Yes, I am a vampire, which you've already been told, but—" she squirmed away pressing against the back of the sofa, "—but, I'm more than that. I'm your destiny and you are mine. You know this to be true—you saw it in the cards."
Salena gasped in surprise, how would he know that? Has he been following her? Every time she visited a fortuneteller or Heloise, wa
s he watching? Then she remembered what he did to Madame Marietta, and she got angrier. "You killed Madame Marietta too!"
Her words tore through his heart, because they were true, and he'd not wanted to take the Gypsy's life. "I will explain about her, but not now; we have to leave—Gabriel will be back. I healed your shoulder, and it will continue to get better, but it will hurt a bit in the meantime."
"What?" she looked down at her shoulder and remembered being bitten by a wolf, the same wolf that had killed Heloise. She saw where the bite had been but was healing—rapidly. Her pain, she realized, was tolerable now as well. She looked up at him, "How?"
"Another question for later," he said, scooping her up. "We must go now. Gabriel will heal quickly as well, and he will come for us soon."
Before she could protest or ask any more questions, they were out the door and running through the woods. Salena winced over Heloise's body and turned her head into his musky shoulder. His? She didn't even know his name. "Who are you? And why do you say we are destined? What the hell is all this about? And we can't leave her there! And what about my car? Put me down, so I can go home!"
Devin ignored both her questions and her demand. Tossing her over his shoulder, he ran so fast it made her head spin.
Salena pounded her fists against his back; he had no right to just run off with her and leave her poor friend dead in front of her house. And he didn't even answer her questions.
Devin stopped and put her down, but he held her by the shoulders, being tender with her left side. She squirmed to get away, and he growled at her. "Stop! Just listen to me." He didn't want to be gruff with her, but she needed to listen—before it was too late for the both of them. Softly, he continued, "You have to understand, you are in great danger. We are both in great danger from Gabriel. He will be coming back, and I have to be ready for him. Sit and I will attempt to explain some of this to you."
Bound Through Blood Page 12
