by Emily Shore
“Rin.” His lips softened, but I could still see the fangs lying in wait. “You will still be Queen. My Queen. And we will rule for more than ten measly years of an immortal life span. I will not have the girl I love become the creature I hate.”
Reviled, I pressed my hands against his chest, arching my back away from him. “Skip, please. Don’t make me a vampire. Don't take my humanity.”
“You have no guarantee you won't be a vampire. Vampire and wolf hybrid.” No matter how I brawled, how I tried to use my powers, he persuaded my body to calm, to mold back to his. “But I will not have a wolf for a queen. Even a hybrid.”
“Please,” I switched gears, trying a plea. Skip leaned over, lips touching the base of my throat near my collar bone. “Don’t do this.” He cornered me against the nearby wall. “Please!” I screamed.
Before I could continue, Skip pressed himself against me, planted my hands against the wall, and pressed his mouth to mine, lips searing. No longer the magnetic passion I had grown to love. This was a destroying fever. A violent hunger. This was Stefan ― deepening and prying me open like a locked treasure chest. I imagined telekinesis, a shockwave, but my body was a too-slow labyrinth. Silver lines in my hands like a homing beacon to alert Skip. One swift move and Skip touched both sides of my head, filtered his persuasiveness down my body like a current. Nothing I could do but accept. Mind over matter refused to work.
As the silver blood retreated, I bit down on my lower lip hard, hoping to rouse the wolf. But Skip’s persuasion was too strong. I threw my head back, the bit of movement he granted me, and cried.
“Perhaps I should persuade you to sleep…”
“No!” I roared. Biting me unconscious would be even worse of a violation. I wanted to feel every bit of my hatred. One thing he couldn’t take from me. I didn’t want to shut down.
His next words were soft, distracting. “There.” Skip set a hand on my lower back and hoisted me into his arms. Like a limp doll, futile to resist, I fell against him, and he carried me to the center of the floor.
I wanted to strike him. Wanted to make him bleed for this. Why did Caroline say my humanity was my greatest strength? It was my greatest weakness. How Skip could collar my flesh and bone and muscle. No matter what I did, I couldn’t overpower him.
“I hate you for this!” Between the tears, I managed to cry out my hatred when he lowered me. At least he gave me a voice.
“You won’t.” His lips sculpted into a smile. “Soon, you will be my queen, and you will bond with me just as all bitten vampires bond with their makers. Perhaps this is…recompense. From all the times I was your blood bitch.”
I clenched my teeth and spit at him.
Skip dodged my pitiful attack and beamed. “I did have something else in mind to solidify our relationship.”
Alarms sounded within me. What did he mean by that?
Rin? Where are you? A flicker of hope detonated inside me. Heath. Somehow, he’d penetrated this far below ground. How it was happening, I didn’t know and didn’t care. I tried not to seem relieved. I tried not to let my emotions betray me. Heath was close.
I concentrated. Underground train station. Hurry. I could only hope Heath had picked up on my thought since I couldn’t send a message telepathically. Not through all of this. I could only think the words. As hard as possible.
Skip reached behind the painting and retrieved a dagger ― a dagger with a fine keen edge. I flinched when the blade met the quiver of a nearby candle. “Before I bite you, I’m going to mix our blood so your powers will become the same as mine. The blood bond forges us together stronger than even my turning you will.” He grasped my hand, twisted it so my palm curled toward him, and he lowered the blade, confirming, “Prepare yourself. This will hurt. I'll try to ease the pain as much as I can.”
All I could do was gape as he first dragged his fang across his right hand to slice a cascading sterling rivulet that reminded me of the blade’s edge. Next, Skip took my hand in his and drew his fingers along the curves of my palms and wrist, touch light and feathery until he’d scrawled a thin tear. I winced, moaning a little. Instincts would have me retract, but Skip gripped my hand and firmly pressed it to his, relieving the pain but bringing with it…a completely new feeling.
As soon as our blood fused, a change overthrew me. I tried to shake off the sensation, but it was still there. A tingling. Tickling needles and gooseflesh. An undeniable thread coupling me to him. From this moment, Skip and I shared a bond deeper than skin. He couldn’t change my emotions. But he was still underneath my skin. Inside my blood, I felt his persuasion even stronger. Thanks to the blood bond, his own signature was now inside me. Like a fingerprint. Like DNA. Now, he could read my thoughts, my memories, my desires; I worked to shut off all thoughts of what had just occurred with Heath.
Fortunately, Skip was not focused on that. “I might just blush silver, Rin.” I turned my focus back to him, puzzled by whatever he was referring to. Whatever else he was, Skip was still a young man. His ego still had him believing he was entitled to everything. Revenge. A crown. Me. “You’ve replayed that night after the battle a multitude of times.” He mimicked that night, grasping onto my wrists, flattening himself against me. I swallowed back a lump, shutting my eyes.
“We will rectify that desire of yours. Shortly. I look forward to it. But first…” He rolled my hair back onto my shoulder, exhibiting my neck. “I won’t be gentle.” He blew a soft breath of air onto my skin. “I want you to feel this after you turn.” He halted for a moment, fiddled with the loose lace at my shoulder, hovered a finger across the low neckline of the dress. “A pity we don’t have more time for our passions to “fuse and merge”,” he quoted from The Phantom of the Opera.
When his fingers paused, and he rubbed his lips across the smooth skin on my shoulder, I bit down on my lower lip to show my disdain since he only allotted me the simplest of motions. And yet, thanks to this blood bond, I could still feel everything. He resurrected emotions through our shared memories. The fluttering in my stomach, the warmth in my blood when he’d touched me in the past. I hated feeling this, but I couldn’t deny it. I still ached for his silver blood. For him. Now, he’d truly become the Phantom. But instead of stalking my body, he stalked my blood.
When he kissed me, he was Skip. Gradual and affectionate ― first with his knuckles stroking my cheek, then with his fingertips sliding up my neck, and finally leaning in to capture my mouth. He turned into Stefan, mouth bruising mine. Beneath him, I resisted, my fire rearing up only because he enjoyed the hunt, the thrill of forcing it back down. Too winded and undone by how fast the kiss grew, I found myself leaning in for more when he pulled away abruptly.
His pupils turned redder, passionate.
It was time.
Opening his mouth, he withdrew his fangs from their secret domain. Utter despair coated me, I closed my eyes. Did she know? Had she seen this? I remembered her words: you’re doing the right thing. You will do the right thing. It wasn’t the right thing. Skip wasn’t the right choice. Or was he? Did she foresee it all along? Was it the only way to catch the Rose Killer? To expose him before Le Couvènte?
Inching closer, Skip held me within his powerful arms and slowly leaned in to bite…
As soon as his fangs bored into the space just above my collarbone, I screamed, clawing at him ― an action he permitted only so he could incarcerate my wrists, which elated him all the more. At first, he merely sampled. Undone by my blood, he pulled away after a moment to express, “So alluring!” he whispered, stunned. “And I thought I alone held the power of persuasion. Your blood shames me.”
The power of persuasion.
Before he could sink his teeth in again, I gave him what he always loved. I rose to the occasion. I was a mother-fucking creator! I created persuasion. He didn’t expect me to use it against him. Just strong enough to cause him to stumble.
Neither of us expected an invasion. A solid moving figure knocked Skip
to the ground, causing me to topple as well. Rotted wooden boards fractured beneath their weight.
“Raoul!” I screamed at the interrupting figure, managing to stand, but I needed to stem the blood leeching from my collarbone. Skip’s concentration broken, my body was my own again, which my brother instantly gathered up.
I struggled against Heath as he applied pressure to my wound, wincing from the contact with my blood. “No! Raoul!” I screamed to the other vampire. “Help him, Heath,” I pleaded. “Skip’s persuasion…he’ll kill him!”
“This is his fight.” Heath informed me resolutely. “I won’t leave you.”
Bloody vampires and their duel rights. This was my bloody fight more than anyone’s.
Mortified, I watched as the man I truly loved crouched and waited for Skip to make the first move. Could Raoul with all his decades of practice and background as a soldier, with all his cunning and cleverness resist the full extent of Skip’s power?
Two perfect predators, they circled each other, both exploring the other for weaknesses. Only I knew what went on inside Skip's head. He was ready to slaughter, but for the moment, he decided to try his persuasive poison. “You already know she's mine.” His crimson eyes gouged holes into Raoul's. “Our blood's been mixed. You can't stop a blood bond.”
I hung my head and traced the wound in my hand, in my neck still dripping between Heath’s fingers. Skip flicked his head toward me for one second. I knew why. He sensed my pain.
“No,” Raoul replied and narrowed his eyes, causing Skip to jerk his head back. Then, Raoul shape-shifted into random individual forms, which helped him resist Skip’s power. “I can't stop the bond between you. But I can still kill you.”
“You can try.”
Raoul moved first, morphing back to himself. Fangs bared, he came at Skip, racing with unbelievable momentum. I held my breath. Raoul couldn’t even touch him before Skip unleashed his wings and shot into the air, momentarily dodging out of the way. Raoul measured his assailant. Why didn’t he release his wings? I could only conclude he couldn’t risk losing the few seconds of concentration. But did he dare fight without them?
Skip didn’t wait. At blinding speed, he advanced, sealing Raoul’s right wrist in a fortress grasp. The bitten vampire grimaced in pain, but he refused to give Skip the benefit of a sound. I bit down on my tongue hard, to drive my silver blood to wait. This was not like our training.
Raoul’s fist connected with Skip's jaw, breaking his concentration and his hold upon his wrist. Using his advantage of on-ground speed, Raoul then attacked. Every time, he seemed to prepare for a fatal stroke, Skip vaulted into the air and escaped Raoul's clutches only to come down on him again. Skip was toying with him.
My silver blood rose to my hands. I opened them peering down. Droplets of red from my neck landed. Heath’s hold on me had weakened, his thoughts distracting me. Torn between protecting me and helping. Until Skip served crushing blow after crushing blow to Raoul, causing Heath to cringe. Raoul acted on the offense and struck Skip with a mighty front kick to his chest that sent him spinning back into one of the old cabooses. The metal crumpled to the shape of Skip’s body. It distracted the born vampire, my bond-mate long enough for Raoul to release his wings. Now, they were equally matched.
They were too close, trading blow for blow. Anything I could do to Skip would hurt Raoul. Instead, I put my trust in the bitten vampire. I was still far too weak to try anything. Ready to crash already because he’d never injected his venom. Only drank from me.
Both vampires lunged, fists hammering into each other’s face. Splattering the air with silver blood. Horror struck, I gazed at them. My eyes flew to Skip when Raoul propelled him against one of the tiled walls. I would be dead now. Anyone else would be dead, but Skip merely shook out his whirling head and heaved himself into the air to once again greet Raoul. In one chaotic rush, the young vampire attacked, hands aimed at the bitten vampire's neck. But Raoul sidestepped him before kicking the born vampire’s back. Raging, Skip growled and assaulted Raoul blindly. Too careless. Raoul knew it. A seasoned soldier, he timed it perfectly as if it was a dance. Launched his fist onto Skip's chest, pitching the born vampire into the air, careening against the floor with the sound of his wings resounding like a thunderclap.
I bided my time, sucked in deep breaths while preparing to combat my straight jacket brother. That’s when I noticed Skip still on the floor, hesitating. Horror reared its gory head. I realized what he was planning. What he’d hunted for was now in his hands. To any other vampire, the blade would be harmless, but in Skip’s hands with his persuasion…he would ensure it would not break; it would kill Raoul. Rising into the air, Skip faced the bitten vampire, blade in hand, a handsome grin spreading faster than a blood-charged vein.
Raising the lethal blade, Skip barreled directly to Raoul. Only seconds for the other vampire to react in defense. In midair, Raoul just narrowly avoided the dagger's point, but Skip wasn’t about to waste any time. Again, he attacked, wings caressing the air ― Raoul was too quick, twirling in the air and landing on the floor behind his foe. Before Skip could turn to face him, Raoul smashed his fist onto the vampire’s back. Skip’s body catapulted into the air…cracking down on more train metal, more tiles on the docking area.
Rin I heard Skip's voice inside my head calling me, his persuading thoughts summoning my mind, willing me to come close. He was grasping at loose threads. Instinctively, I stepped toward him, but Heath's grip on me was unwavering.
With an unchecked snarl, Skip hoisted himself to a stand, shook out his wings. Prepared for assault, he charged with such ferocity, Raoul had little time to react. Skip's left hand locked his neck in a death grip. Raoul was trapped. I read my bond-mate’s mind. He would not fail again.
My silver blood reared into my hands. Wild with it, I wrestled against Heath. Skip’s persuasive powers engulfed Raoul's body so Raoul’s defenses weakened. Against his will. I now understood the raw power that Skip wielded ― a power so great, not even the Council would challenge it. But I would!
“You don’t understand yet, do you, Kelley?” Skip pinned Raoul against one of the walls and clenched his teeth, his malicious emerald eyes shimmering.
Petrified, I watched as Skip’s eyes perforated Raoul's. Raoul struggled, thrashing his head back and forth. Skip leaned in to whisper, “She will always be my queen.”
“Never!” Raoul hissed.
“Never human again is right.”
Wearing a true predator’s grin, Skip bellowed, “Time to end this.” He targeted Raoul. “For my father.” He raised the dagger.
Never human again.
She knew all along. Something Skip could never plan. Terror ruptured me. One moment to react. One single thought resounded in my conscience. Her words. Her stalwart reminder.
Your humanity is your greatest strength.
I could save him, stop all this. One way. I knew the price.
My greatest gift.
My humanity.
My own body.
But first…my silver!
I used Heath’s wraith shadowing against him. Something he couldn’t have predicted.
Nothing happened in slow motion. My life was a mere shadow.
Skip brought the blade down. Silver gleam infecting the air.
I arrived at the midway point between Raoul and Skip. Metamorphized out of wraith form. Back into human. Out of the corner of my eye, the edge of the dagger gleamed, winking, blowing me a kiss.
Abashed at this singular twist, both vampires reeled. Hysteria soaked Raoul’s face. But it was too late. The edge of the knife came down. My fragile human body dove between…
And the dagger plunged deep into the center of my back. My hungry scream fed on the air.
And the battle immediately came to a standstill. A stalemate. No, I was the victor.
Physically, I was aware of the pain, but all I could see were Raoul's eyes, bloodshot…But he was safe. Skip was damned. I could see his mi
nd, sense his emotions. This crushed him. The blood bond that he believed would strengthen us had become his undoing. I smiled at Raoul right before my knees buckled.
Raoul caught me: my blood cascaded onto his hands. He was the one who felt it travel across his skin, but there was no desire in his eyes. Not like Skip who watched, mortified, with pupils gory from bloodlust. Raoul was the one who pressed his dusky hand to the gaping hole in my back, soaked it more in my blood. He lowered me gently to the ground. I could feel his cold hands on me, but I knew my body weakened as my vision blurred like someone was showering it with white petals and lace.
As the blood pooled further, Raoul applied more pressure in a vain attempt to close the wound. Rushing to me, Heath eased a shivery hand underneath my head. My face must have looked sallow, drained of color. With each second, my amethyst eyes grew dimmer, overwhelmed by the imaginary white petals. All three vampires held their breath to avoid the scent. I coughed up sprinkles of blood, splattering them.
“Heal her!” demanded Heath, remembering the night Skip had done the same for my mother.
“Too deep.” He shook his head. Like his own father’s wounds were too deep. He could persuade my wings to reform, my mother’s gashes to close and blood to return. But not even Skip could restore a whole nervous system thanks to the blade lodged in my spine. Too many networks of nerves. One misstep…No matter how hard any of them tried, I was dying. There was only…
“Up,” I choked.
Raoul turned to Heath for a moment, and Heath nodded, comprehending. “Get her into the moonlight.”
Skip approached the two vampires. “Give her to me,” he commanded.
Raoul snarled. “Don’t you think you've done enough?”
Skip ignored the comment. “Only I know the quickest way out of here. Let me take her. Follow behind.” I wanted to muster a nod, but my muscles wouldn’t allow it. More than ever, I wished Heath’s ability of passing through walls transcribed to others. At least he could follow on our heels. The salty rancid taste of blood started to fill my mouth. I gurgled.
