Immortal Kiss

by J. K. Coi

  Every night he continued to breathe was one more night that Alric worried the vampire would carry out his threats against Diana, and one more night that Baron promised himself he wouldn’t let that bastard do anything to hurt his friends.

  Baron slugged the free weights relentlessly, a new plan of action forming. A sharp rap on the open door startled him from his thoughts.

  He looked up to find Rhys’ muscular frame filling the entrance. “Baron, you had better come and see this.”

  Baron replaced the heavy weights. Breathing hard, he sat up and reached for his towel, swiping it across his forehead. “What is it?”

  Rhys shook his head, his expression tight and unreadable. That in itself wouldn’t normally be a cause for alarm. The other Immortal wasn’t known for his conversational skills at the best of times, but there was something in his eyes Baron didn’t like, something that spawned a decidedly cold feeling in his chest.

  “All right, just a sec.” He yanked on the plain white tee slung across one of the machines and followed Rhys down the hall to a smaller room where the warehouse’s computer and monitoring equipment were set up. Roland was there, watching the screens with an equally inscrutable look on his face.

  “So, what is it, you guys?” he asked. “Why the grim faces? Somebody put a scratch on your car, Roland?” Roland didn’t blink, didn’t rise to the bait at all, which meant this must be serious.

  “There.” Rhys pointed to one screen, displaying a view of the front loading docks. “Apparently, this is meant for you.”

  “This what?” There was something out there. Baron couldn’t quite make it out. He glanced from Rhys to Roland. Something was very wrong. “Okay, let me see.” He moved behind Roland’s chair to get a better look at the image on the monitor.

  Arms. Legs. Clothing.

  A body.

  “Shit. Who is that?” he asked.

  Rhys continued to give him that look, the one that was really starting to piss him off. “What? What is this all about? Who’s out there?”

  “Devon left her out there.”

  “Devon…the vampire? It’s a woman out there?” He stepped forward, bending closer to the screen. “Oh man…where’s Alric? Is it—?” Shit. Don’t let that body outside be Diana.

  “No,” Rhys said. “It isn’t Diana, thank God.”

  Baron’s patience had been sheared paper thin, and it showed in the acid tone of his voice. “Spit it out, guys. Who is that, and why are you both just standing there staring at me?”

  Baron turned to leave, intending to get to the bottom of this once and for all. He would go outside and see for himself who this woman was who’d been dumped on their doorstep like so much baggage.

  Rhys grabbed his arm, stopping him just outside the door. “Baron, wait. Just…watch the tape before you go out there.” Rhys nodded to Roland, who pressed a button to play the roll of security tape that they’d obviously already watched.

  With an impatient sigh, he stepped back inside the room and turned his attention to the other screen, but he couldn’t help it when his gaze flickered back to the real-time image of the woman lying motionless outside. Why hadn’t anyone gone outside to help her? Was she already dead, then?

  If Devon was involved in this crappy little stunt…then probably.

  Poor thing.

  The tape showed the same image of the loading docks and the time read 2:46 a.m.—about ten minutes ago.

  Baron watched Devon saunter right up to the doors as if he were there to deliver the mail. He dropped the woman’s body to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Baron winced as her limbs flopped lifelessly to the pavement. There was something about her. Something in the curve of her cheek before her hair fell lifelessly over her face, the shape of the body curled in on itself…

  Baron’s attention shifted. Devon stared directly into the camera. He was grinning, a huge toothy grin designed to show off the pointed fangs and inhuman glint in his eyes. His face was covered in blood—the woman’s? Baron felt a chill go up his spine.

  “Baron,” Devon called to him, his voice easy as if he were on the phone leaving a message for a friend. “I have a present for you.”

  The vampire spared a glance down at the woman’s body and when he turned back, his eyes were glowing red. He ran his tongue out over his lips and chin like a wolf licking his chops clean after devouring the hare.

  “Mmm. She tasted so good, Baron. I almost didn’t want to stop.” His laughter was high and foul, making the hairs on Baron’s forearms and across the back of his neck stand up. He almost forgot that the vampire was already gone, that this was just a recording. It took all he had to stop from rushing out of the room to go after the bastard.

  The next moment the vampire vanished in a rush of movement too fast to really see and only the “gift” was left behind.

  “What does that mean?” He turned to the others. “Did he drink her, is that what he’s saying? She’s dead?”

  “Do you know her?” Rhys asked.

  “Why should I know her? I mean…I guess I could, but I…I just don’t know.” He gazed at the figure on the screen again. It was possible. “I can’t see clearly enough from the position of the camera. Does it matter? Shouldn’t we go out there and see if she’s still alive?”

  Rhys sighed. “Baron, this was meant for you. Which means it’s very likely that the woman outside is someone you know…and not just casually.”

  “Can’t be. You know I don’t get close to any women other than ‘casually’.” A niggling uncertainty flared, regardless of his words.

  “If the vampire went to the trouble of bringing her here for you, then you can bet your ass he was in your head and found something that told him this particular woman meant something to you. Think about it.”

  “Shit, I’m thinking already, but honestly, what difference does it make? We still have to go out there.”

  Rhys sighed, his eyes sharp, the silver points glinting in the dim light. “Fine, but be prepared.”

  “What the hell does that mean? What am I missing here and why won’t you just fucking tell me already?”

  “She’s been turned, Baron.”

  “Turned?” Did that mean what he thought it meant? Of course it did. What else would it mean? “All right. I understand.”

  “Do you?” Rhys put his hand on his shoulder. “What we should do is leave that creature outside until the sun comes up. If he’s turned her this night, then she probably won’t even regain consciousness before the light takes her. Her death will be swift and painless.”

  “But…” Baron looked again at the screen. Took a long, hard look. Whoever she was, whatever had happened to her was his fault. He was to blame. “I have to go out there.”

  He turned to sprint down the hall. At the large rolling door, he stopped and took a deep breath before lifting the hatch and pulling it open.

  The early morning was still dark as pitch, but the outside security lights were bright overhead, giving the gruesome scene a severe hit of reality that it had lacked when viewed through the computer monitors.

  Baron noticed the blood first. It stained the woman’s long hair dark, but he immediately knew the color was naturally a beautiful blonde with shining gold highlights. Her mouth was drawn and pale, but he had felt the heat of her kiss and seen the beauty of her rare smile. Though her eyes were closed, he remembered how they’d shone so clear and blue with a spirit that had never been broken, despite everything she’d already been through in her difficult life.

  Oh God.

  Maxine.

  He felt the tears coming. They burned his eyes and blurred his vision. He fell to his knees and pulled her into his arms, unconsciously rocking her back and forth. He pushed the dirty, bloody mass of hair from her forehead with a trembling hand and brushed at the smudges on her cheeks and nose.

  “Oh no. Oh, baby, no. What did he do to you?” He wanted to scream. He wanted to roar. This was his fault. His failure to destroy the vampire had put Maxine in d
anger, had led the vampire to her.

  Her head nodded lifelessly into the cradle of his arm, and he moaned at the sight of the jagged, torn flesh of her neck.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry.” She was so pale. White and as cold as death. Not dead, though. He could feel her heart beating. It was faint and slow—so slow—but it was there. He had to get her inside as soon as possible.

  Rising with her slight body in his arms, Baron carried her to the door. Rhys stopped him just inside. “I’m sorry, Baron, but I can’t let you bring her in here.”

  “I have to, Rhys. I know her. She’s…special to me. How Devon knew…I don’t know. But I can’t leave her for the sun. Even if she’s been…turned. There has to be a way. I’ll find another way.”

  “I understand. I really do.” Rhys’ voice was thick with regret as he dragged a hand through his thick mane of hair. “But have you thought about what will happen when she awakens?”

  Baron’s arms tightened and he gazed down at her. Despite the drying blood and dirt, the deathly pallor in her face, she looked peaceful, calm.

  She was Maxine. He hadn’t seen in her over two years, but she hadn’t changed much. She was still too beautiful for words. And it still caused an awful pain in his chest to look at her.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll have to deal with it.” He clenched his teeth and faced his mentor, his fearless leader, his friend. “She can’t die, Rhys. She’s too important. Not only to me, but—” Shit. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I wouldn’t do anything to put you or any of the others in any danger, but I need to have somewhere safe to see her through this. Just while the sun is up. Tonight I’ll take her out of here and stay away until we get through this.”

  Rhys closed his eyes, obviously struggling with his decision. He shook his head. “There’s more to it than just getting her through the turn, Baron. When she wakes up, she won’t be the woman you knew. She’ll be hungry. Hungry for blood. And she won’t have any control over the need—no better than an animal. It’s too dangerous.” Rhys looked torn. “Amy’s pregnant. And with that kind of dynamic in play…I just can’t risk it.”

  Pregnant? “Oh, wow. I…I didn’t know. I didn’t think that you could, I mean… Anyway, I understand.”

  Baron’s focus turned back to the woman in his arms. How much time before the sun came up? It couldn’t be more than minutes now. What was he going to do? Where could he go to keep her safe? He still had an apartment, but that was a twenty minute drive through town and he hadn’t been there in months.

  Rhys cleared his throat. “Look, this might be a good time for Amy and me to head out for a while. She’s been wanting to go to L.A. after what happened with Gideon. He hasn’t been the same and she’s worried about him.” Baron knew what Gideon had been through, and he could seriously relate, but now he was just glad for any excuse to get Amy out of here.

  Holy shit, if she was really pregnant…the last thing they needed was for Amy to show as a blip on Devon’s radar, another target in his sadistic game of revenge. Whatever was destined to go down with this vampire situation, he didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else being hurt.

  “I understand, man,” Baron assured Rhys. “You guys need to go.”

  Rhys paused, looking as if he wanted to say something but it was getting stuck in his craw. “Yeah, we’re going to go.” He cleared his throat. “You have my permission to bring your woman inside and do what you need to do, but I have to take Amy out of here. She’s my priority.”

  Baron knew it went against the grain for Rhys to take off when a fight was brewing, for him to leave others to put their lives on the line. “Rhys, thanks. Don’t sweat it. Take care of your wife.”

  Rhys nodded. “I’ll talk to Alric and the twins. And while I’m gone, you keep them in the loop. You do not play it solo, you understand? I trust you to stay and deal with this situation. I trust you to take care of the vampire while I’m gone. I trust you, Baron, so don’t fuck it up.”

  Baron let out an audible sigh of relief. “Rhys. I…thanks.”

  Rhys glanced down at Maxine, who was as still and as pale as death. “The vampire population has always kept a low profile, and I’ve rarely had to deal with them—especially rogues like this Devon asshole—because they tend to take care of their own problems. I admit that I don’t know a lot about them.” He met Baron’s eyes. “But I’ve heard that when a newly turned vampire first awakens, the hunger is immense, and that the first drink says a lot in determining the course of the vampire’s future.” He stopped, his gaze penetrating, serious. “Look, I don’t know how you want to handle this thing. But it might just be that her only chance of coming through this is…”

  “What? Come on, Rhys, I’m flying blind here. If you know something that will help me save her, you’ve got to tell me.”

  “Your blood. She’ll need it from you. Given freely. Hopefully, your Immortal blood will give her the strength she needs to fight the tainted blood of the vampire.”

  Baron nodded, fear spiking in his veins. His spirit was far from honorable. It was very likely just as tainted and black as the vampire’s.

  “Thanks,” he muttered.

  “Like I said, I’m trusting you with this, Baron. Take care of the vampire,” Rhys ordered. “And do it fast, because the last thing you’re going to want if the situation goes any farther down the toilet is for the Enforcer to get his ass involved.”

  “Enforcer?” Baron asked. Had he heard that term somewhere before? “You mean like the vampire police?”

  “Yeah, something like that. There used to be more of them, but from what I understand now there’s only the one. And he’s a big, mean motherfucker.”

  Baron barked out a short laugh. “Ah, so he’s just like you. Glad I know what to look out for.”

  “Laugh it up, but vampires really don’t like rogues in their midst messing with the rules, and this guy takes care of them in a big way. So just keep your eyes open and get the job done.” The Immortal started to go, but he turned back once more and stared Baron down with his icy silver gaze. “Be very careful, Baron. When I get back, you had better still be in one piece.” The gruff show of concern was uncharacteristic of the big man, who was still uncomfortable in his role as mentor and leader. It was rare for him to show any emotion except to his mate. When it came to Amy, Rhys was a total sap, but he was a sap who loved his woman and had gained a little peace and humanity through that love, something Baron could totally respect. He instinctively held Max just a little tighter.

  “Amy and I will be out of here in an hour.” Rhys glanced once more at the bundle in Baron’s arms and nodded before making his way down the hall.

  “Rhys,” Baron called after him.

  “Yeah?” He turned back.

  “Will she be okay?”

  Rhys paused, his expression guarded. “I honestly don’t know. But with you to help her through it…maybe she has a chance.”

  Chapter Four

  Baron took Max to his rooms and right through to the connecting bathroom, where he laid her down on the floor so that he could strip her clothes from her chilled body.

  Her shirt was torn, ragged and so badly destroyed it disintegrated in his fingers as it fell from her, revealing the pale curve of shoulder and the delicate black strap of her skimpy lace bra, a useless contraption that did nothing to disguise the rosy nipples that puckered beneath the fabric.

  He wrenched his gaze from her chest, staring hard at the uninteresting geometric pattern in the ceramic floor tiles. He undid the stiff button and zipper of the denim, pausing when the tips of his fingers brushed across her smooth, white belly, and muttered an oath.

  Tugging the blood-spattered denim down her legs he tried to look for injuries. The garments would have to be burned later, but for now he dumped them all in the corner of the room.

  That was it. He knew his limits and dared not remove her bra and panties.

  She was so still, but her chest rose and fell with short, slightly uneven br
eaths. He couldn’t bear to look at the dark maroon blood that had dried to a hard crust on the skin of her neck and breasts and in her hair. He fought the urge to scrub her skin raw until the stain was gone, but he had a heavy feeling that no matter how much he washed her, he would still see blood in his dreams for many a night.

  Standing, he turned on the tap to fill the tub with hot water—the hotter the better to bring color back to her skin—then carefully, so carefully, he lifted her into it.

  She was thinner than he remembered, way too thin. Since when had she gotten so skinny? And why?

  Max had been thin like this when he’d first met her, back when they were teenagers. But as she’d started hanging out with Baron’s brother, who noticed everything—including the fact that his newest friend never seemed to have enough to eat—Jackson had contrived devious schemes to make sure Max ended up staying for dinner at least once or twice a week. It hadn’t been long before she’d started to fill out nicely. Too nicely. Baron remembered the first time he’d really noticed just how much. She had been sweet sixteen and he a randy seventeen, so smug and caught up in his badass senior self that he hadn’t paid much attention to the unfashionable waif his brother had befriended. He’d just been relieved that Jackson finally had a friend, since it took some of the responsibilities off his shoulders.

  Baron had gone upstairs to tell Jackson about his football game. When he’d opened the door to his brother’s room, Max had been sprawled on her back across Jackson’s bed, her head tilted over the edge as she watched him at his desk, pounding away at the desktop computer. They were laughing about something, and Baron had been transfixed by the way Max’s pert teenage breasts pressed against the soft cotton of her well-worn, tight shirt, fascinated by the way it had ridden up to show the smooth curve of her belly.

  His mouth had gone bone dry, so he’d cleared his throat, which had gotten their attention. Max had caught the look in his eyes and glared back at him, so he’d made some vague, lame excuses and left them alone, but that moment had been the beginning of the end for him.