Immortal Kiss

by J. K. Coi

  He’d never seen Maxine move so fast. One moment she was sitting calmly beside him and the next she’d leaped over the bed and put herself between Jackson and the stranger, who was still snickering from the entrance.

  “Get the hell out of here,” she snarled.

  Whoa. What the hell had happened to Max’s voice? The treble was a few tones lower, like the protective growl of a mother lion.

  The man chuckled once more, and it seemed to Jackson that the sound echoed inside his head. “Ah, my dear. Not even a kiss hello for dear old dad?”

  Jackson looked from Max, whose tension levels had visibly skyrocketed into the stratosphere, to the stranger, a dark-haired, pale-skinned man who exuded nonchalance and a not-so-subtle sense of barely leashed power.

  He shot a glance toward Jackson then, and grinned, showing long, gleaming white canines. What in God’s name are those?

  “You stay the fuck away from him.” With her back to him, Jackson couldn’t see Max’s face, but he caught her rumbled warning clearly enough.

  “Ah, but I have no intention of doing any such thing.” The man moved farther into the room, the folds of his greatcoat swishing in a wide, elegant swoop against the edges of the doorway. “While I did think that it would be enough to amuse myself with you for a time—to get back at Baron, you understand—imagine my surprise and delight when I saw in that pretty little head of yours that my nemesis has a brother as well. Your coming here was fortuitous in more than one way, as it happens. I needed to get out of town, and I seem to have gotten the opportunity to killtwo birds with one stone in the process.” There was that laughter again. Jeez, this guy was a barrel of them.

  Too bad Maxine didn’t seem to agree. Jackson was confused as hell.

  He started as the door closed, seemingly of its own volition. Just what was going on here?

  Max tensed, throwing an arm out as if to block the man’s path to Jackson. Was it just him, or were her fingernails freakishly long? He hadn’t noticed when she’d held his hand earlier that she’d decided to grow them to supermodel-length talons.

  “I don’t know what your history is with Baron,” she said to the stranger, her voice tight, guarded. “But don’t you think you’ve done enough? It’s only a matter of time. He and his friends are hunting you. They’re going to kill you.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt they’re going to try. They’ve tried a few times already, but I always have the upper hand.” He was very cocky, this guy. What the hell kind of shit was Baron into to be attracting characters like this? And how had he gotten Maxine involved?

  Given that Max had turned into his very own angel of protection, putting herself between him and the dark and mysterious stranger with suspiciously long, sharp teeth, Jackson felt like an extra in an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One of the guys who barely gets his name in the credits because he’s killed off right at the beginning of the show.

  Max shot him a sharp look and the man laughed. “Your friend is coming very close to the truth, my dear. Shall I enlighten him further, do you think?”

  “I don’t want you anywhere near him.” Max moved as if to advance on the stranger, but suddenly stopped. She turned toward Jackson slowly and stiffly, her face pale and drawn with fear. “No,” she whispered. “Devon, don’t do this.”

  “Well, you see, here’s the thing,” he drawled. “So far, you have refused to embrace your altered biology, so I thought I would just help you along a little. It’s a kindness really. Not to mention, I’m getting kind of bored, and it will present an interesting diversion for me.”

  Jackson’s gaze lit first on the stranger—Devon—who smiled back, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, “Sorry, man, a psychotic maniac’s gotta do what he’s gotta do”.

  He turned to Max, who looked completely horrified. “What is it, Max?” He was getting more than a little freaked out here. “What is this all about? What’s happening?”

  She shook her head, the motion very tense, and Jackson realized she was concentrating, so much so that whatever she was trying to do—or not to do—was costing her so much energy she had nothing left for speech.

  “Do it, Maxine,” Devon urged. He sounded like a kid on the playground pushing dope. “You know you want it. You can hear the blood flow in him—a little sluggish yes, but still sweet and warm.”

  Max growled, whether at Devon or at him, Jackson wasn’t quite certain. He could feel the conflict in the air, the strength that flowed back and forth in waves. He locked eyes with Max, worried about her. She looked more than drawn, more than strained. She looked…hungry.

  As if he’d said the words aloud, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a hiss and she bared long canines, pointed and deadly.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Baron knew he looked out of place. He hadn’t exactly dressed for a visit.

  He had dressed for battle.

  A sick feeling had been with him since yesterday at about two in the morning, when he found himself stopping at a Motel 6 because of the lingering scent of a psychic signature he knew all too well. What he found in room 12C had confirmed his suspicion that he was not only on Max’s tail, but Devon’s as well.

  The vampire was long gone from the motel by the time Baron arrived, and there hadn’t been anything he could do for the dead woman and her child, but an anonymous call to the authorities from a few miles away would at least ensure they were found as quickly as possible.

  Baron doubled his speed from that point, needing to get to Max before the vampire did. But as soon as he reached the doors of the hospital, he knew he was already too late.

  Inside, he didn’t have to stop at the nurse’s station and ask what room Jackson was in, he just followed the rank scent of Devon’s evil to the third floor and made his way to the end of the hall.

  Pausing just outside Jackson’s door, he realized Devon wasn’t here…but he had been.

  Jackson was in the room.

  A memory slipped past his guard and Baron remembered the day he’d found out about his brother’s Leukemia.

  * * * * *

  Baron rushed into the hospital, having carried Jackson the whole twenty blocks from the park. The nurses descended upon them as soon as they came through the doors, so Jackson didn’t have to wait. But God, Baron was scared out of his mind, especially when the only thing left to do was sit hunched in the hospital chair by his brother’s bedside and wait for their mother to arrive.

  She whirled into the room and rushed right to Jackson’s side. “Jacky. Oh, Jacky, my poor boy,” she cried. Baron winced. It sounded just a little overdone, but their mother was known to go heavy on the drama—an actress at heart who had never quite realized her true calling.

  “Hey, Mom,” Jackson whispered as he tried to dodge her gushy kisses on his cheeks and forehead and her searching fingers running over his arms and across his chest, looking for some visual sign of injury.

  “What happened?” She turned to Baron and frowned. “Well? I thought you were supposed to be looking out for your brother. So how did he end up here?”

  Baron straightened in his chair, bracing himself. He didn’t bother to respond. His mom was just getting started. She’d drag this lecture out right nicely for a good five minutes, getting it all out of her system—Mom had to vent a little bit when she was afraid.

  “Mrs. Silver?”

  It was almost comical the way she twirled dramatically to face the doctor. “Dr. Saunders, how nice to see you again,” she said sweetly. As a single woman in a fairly small town, Lorraine Silver was well aware of Dr. Saunders’ recent status as a divorcé and wasn’t above using the current situation to let him know that she was ready, willing, and more than able to guide him through his difficult time.

  Baron threw Jackson a disgusted look and rolled his eyes, causing his brother to laugh, which set off another round of coughing. Baron jumped from the chair as his mother turned back to her youngest son, helping him to sit up as he hacked his way through the fit. The doctor
came around beside her and watched the bleeping numbers and lights on the equipment that monitored Jackson’s condition.

  When the coughing subsided, Lorraine leaned over and whispered something soothing into Jackson’s ear, then gently laid him back on the bed before turning to Dr. Saunders. All flirting aside, her expression had changed to one of deep concern for her child. When it came right down to it, neither of the boys ever doubted they were her number one priority. “So, Doctor, are you going to tell me what’s the matter with my son?”

  Baron caught Jackson’s eye and silently mouthed an apology for having made him cough, to which Jackson just shook his head wanly. He reached out a frail-looking hand to Baron, who took it and gave him a tight squeeze of reassurance.

  “Now that you’re here, we’ll need to get your signature on some forms, so that we can run a few tests.”

  “Yes, I’ll sign whatever you need.” Lorraine nodded and waved a hand in the air. “Just tell me you’re not clutching at straws here, that you have some idea of what’s wrong with him.”

  “Mrs. Silver…” The doctor paused, his eyes moving from Baron’s mother to Jackson and then Baron, obviously unsure about whether or not he should say anything in front of the children.

  “Doctor, please. My boys are old enough that I don’t hide the difficult truths of life from them anymore. Just spit it out so we can get on with things and I can get them home.”

  Dr. Saunders sighed, and all of a sudden Baron knew. All of a sudden it seemed as obvious to him as it was to this good doctor. His chest tightened and he glanced over at Jackson, who returned his look with a grim expression that said he was very much aware of just what the doctor was going to say, but he wasn’t in the least surprised. From the look on Jackson’s face, his brother had known for quite a while that something was seriously wrong with him.

  “I’ve called in Dr. Tysdale. He’s an oncologist. I’m sorry to tell you this, Mrs. Silver, but I believe that our tests and Dr. Tysdale’s examination of Jackson will confirm my suspicion that your son has chronic lymphocytic leukemia.”

  * * * * *

  Baron remembered the look on his mother’s face when all those tests had come back. He remembered praying he would be a donor match for his brother and the disappointment that his mother had tried to hide when they found out he wasn’t. He remembered the chemo and the transfusions and every brutal agony Jackson had undergone before that first remission.

  He should have been stronger. For Jackson. For his mother.

  Instead he had failed them all miserably, including Max.

  And if Devon had gotten to them, his failure was complete.

  Worried about what Devon might have done, he opened the door and stepped into his brother’s hospital room.

  “Oh thank God, Baron.”

  Jackson was sitting up in bed, looking drawn and thin and so damn young. Baron felt a sharp tug against his heart. This was his family, his brother. All of a sudden it seemed too wrong for words that he had let something as petty as his own insecurities and guilt keep him away for so long.

  Was it too late?

  “Jacky. Are you all right?”

  Jackson shook his head, his eyes wide with panic and fear. “I’m fine, but Max—”

  “What happened?” Let her be all right. Baron fought to breathe through the thick knot of dread lodged in his throat. “Where is she?”

  “Baron, what the hell is going on with you two? What kind of people are you hanging with? Some spooky-looking guy walked in here, talking nonsense, and all of a sudden Max’s eyes started glowing red and she grew a pair of choppers on her that a cobra would envy.”

  “Did she hurt you?”

  “Did she hurt me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Of course she didn’t hurt me.” Jackson paused, his look uncertain. “There was a moment, though…but it was nothing. The guy all of a sudden got this look on his face as if he heard something, and he took off. I figured that was a good thing, but then Max turned and ran after him.” He scowled at Baron, who was still standing at the door. Trying to shift his body to face him fully, he said, “What did you do to her?”

  “Ah, fuck.” Baron ran his hand through his hair. “There’s no time, Jackson. If I don’t find her before—”

  “Before what? Before sunrise?” Jackson finished with chilling insight and an unspoken recrimination.

  Baron accepted responsibility. It was long past time he accepted responsibility for a lot of things. He clenched his jaw tightly, knowing the only thing that mattered right now was getting to Max before Devon. “Yes. Before sunrise. Before she does something that can’t be taken back. Before she gets hurt. Or killed.”

  The steely light in Jackson’s crisp blue eyes revealed the man behind the disease. His eyes showed clearly the strength and determination that had gotten him through countless treatments and tests, setbacks and dashed hopes. Revealed the man who had earned the respect and friendship of one such as Maxine.

  A man who was done giving his brother the benefit of the doubt.

  “Go, then. You find Max and bring her back. And if anything happens to her, you’d better believe it’s on your head.”

  Baron turned, stopped at the door. Without looking back, he said, “I love her, Jackson.”

  “I know you do, Baron. I’ve always known.” He heard Jackson sigh. “Just find her.”

  Baron turned around and met his brother’s gaze. “I promise. I won’t fail her again…not like I’ve failed you.”

  “You never failed me, my brother. I didn’t ask you to give up your dreams and hang out at my bedside. I was always proud of what you have done with your life.”

  They studied each other for a moment. Silent. Baron finally nodded.

  “I’ll be back,” he promised, leaving his brother behind once again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Max knew these woods like the back of her hand. Her mother’s trailer, the sinkhole of sin she had wanted desperately to escape her entire youth, had backed onto them. And until her mother’s death four years ago, Max had returned often enough to check up on her.

  The vampire had moved quickly from Jackson’s hospital room, and in the process, his hold over Max had lessened and she’d been able to shake off some of the maddening bloodlust. She still hadn’t been able to look Jackson in the eye. Instead she’d taken off after Devon. She was done letting this vampire terrorize her and her friends.

  She purposely delved deep inside herself, tapping into the dark place Devon had created there, hoping she could somehow use it to track him.

  Sure enough, if she concentrated it was obvious, as if she had a laser beam trained right on him. He was heading deep into the woods. Something had spooked him, but she doubted it was Baron.

  Not that Baron wasn’t on his way, because he would come. She was sure of it. Maybe not for her, and not for Jackson, but she knew he would come for his revenge.

  But no, this was something else.

  Beneath the heavy canopy of towering oak trees, the darkness was complete, not even the light of the bright full moon penetrating to the ground where Max walked carefully. “This is by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Maxine Deveraux.” Great. Now she was talking to herself. No, she was actually lecturing, which was probably a step up from randomly yammering away.

  When she’d seen Devon in that room, so close to Jackson, Max had felt fear. Deep, bone-chilling fear the likes of which she never wanted to feel again. And when he’d tried to compel her to bite her friend, tried to force her to turn on Jackson like a rabid dog…she knew that as long as Devon lived, that fear would forever be with her.

  Max needed to take matters into her own hands. She was going to find the vampire and kill it herself. She didn’t want Baron fighting this monster, not for her—he had enough evil to handle without Max adding to it. This was her responsibility, a way to take back some of the control Devon had taken from her when he took her humanity.

  So…she was alone. It was better
this way. The plan was hazy at best. Reckless. Stupid. Okay, there was no plan. She was acting on pure impulse, adrenaline.

  Her focus kept her from screaming with rage into the night. It kept the thought of what she had done to Baron, what she’d almost done to Jackson, how it was her weakness that had given Devon the opportunity to attack Diana, from overwhelming her with guilt.

  Devon might be older and stronger and meaner than she was, but Max had a few tricks up her sleeve. Her chances of success were slim, and she would likely be dead by morning. But if things went the way she planned, she could at least take Devon to hell right along with her.

  It should have bothered her more but, curiously enough, it didn’t.

  Maybe because Max knew she should be dead already.

  She had nothing anyway. Jackson was dying. Her mother was already gone. The official diagnosis had been cancer, but that was just medicine. Max knew the truth. A lifetime of drinking and smoking and drugs equaled suicide whether or not something else took you out before you could finish the job.

  Max had never understood why her mother needed to load herself up with alcohol and chemicals, why she hated her life—and her daughter—so much.

  But after the last few days, Max thought she could finally understand Charlene Deveraux a little better. A woman who’d gotten knocked up at sixteen and dropped out of school to shack up with Max’s deadbeat of a father. A father Max had never met because he’d skipped out on them before she was even born. After that Charlene had worked two and three jobs at a time to keep them from starving, but as Max had gotten older, the drinking had gotten worse and the drugs more potent.

  Thinking about it now, Max couldn’t feel the same anger and resentment. Instead she felt something akin to pity and a deep sadness, and she had to wonder if perhaps mother and daughter were not so different after all. Maybe blood really did tell.

  Max didn’t want to end up angry and alone, drinking herself into a stupor every night. But she could feel the bitterness rising inside her, the same bitterness Charlene must have felt upon realizing that her dreams were nothing but wisps of smoke blowing away on the wind. And the feeling was getting stronger and stronger, choking Max with anger and shame and the knowledge that her life was never going to be what she had planned. All because of some rampaging mutt with dental issues.