by Celia Kyle
A small smile teased Carac’s lips and he found himself smiling as well. Important? Dangerous?
Compared to Carac, there was no one more important or dangerous. “I’m sure you feel that way, Dr. Bennett. I would like to apologize for the way in which you were brought to my humble home.”
Humble? Mansion. The man who’d grown up sleeping on bare ground now ensured he was surrounded by luxury and comfort at every turn. There was nothing humble about the manse.
“If you will excuse us for a moment, I would like to hear Joce’s report on his encounter with—”
A quick rap of knuckles on wood preceded Tory’s entrance. Staring at her hair and eyes, he wondered how long he’d been out of it. Last he remembered, Tory was wearing purple but she had red hair and eyes today. Then again, the woman swapped colors like a man changed boxers.
If he wore any. Joce didn’t, but…
“Yo, boss man. We have a visitor.”
She even popped her gum and grinned at the sovereign. As much as Carac grumbled and growled about the woman, he still hadn’t killed her and that said a lot. Either he liked Tory or he really didn’t want to lose Liam as a protector.
It was a toss-up.
“A visitor?” Carac murmured, but his attention remained on the doctor.
“Yes, old friend.” The new voice was a soft, husky murmur.
A few things happened in rapid succession and if he had blinked, he would have missed it.
Carac stiffened.
Katherine shouted and launched herself toward the door. “Galla!”
Which was followed by Carac’s murmured, “Important and dangerous.”
They all focused on the two women framed in the doorway, one tall and slender, dressed in layers of silk and delicate lace while the other was shorter and curved in all the right places, dressed in blood-splattered, puke green scrubs.
He wondered if that was his blood. Probably.
“Hello, dearling,” she whispered softly and then nudged Katherine into the hallway.
Then they were faced with a female vampire unlike any he’d ever seen. He’d heard stories of women losing touch with their humanity when something—someone—they loved was threatened, but he’d never witnessed such a thing. Based on the hatred and pure rage filling Galla’s eyes, he was about to.
Her voice was soft, lyrical even, but no less deadly serious. “Would you please explain why the child of my blood was sampled by one of yours, Letholdus? Would you please explain why she was taken from the safety of her profession and pulled into the middle of your war? Would you please point out who shall die for these offenses?”
She would do it, too. He saw the truth in her eyes. She would tear through Carac—once Letholdus—to get to whomever brought Katherine to the manse. And because Carac was their sovereign, he would take responsibility and protect his warriors to the end.
It was something he couldn’t allow. Joce wasn’t as old as the rest of the ring, wasn’t as highly skilled and tended to rip others to shreds without asking questions first. He was unneeded. Disposable. Unwanted at the best of times, reviled at the worst.
His fellow protectors, so taken with their new arrival, didn’t stop him when he pulled free and strode forward, placing himself between Carac and the female. “I beg the lady’s pardon for the transgression.”
Fall back on manners, right? Being polite tended to take the fun out of killing someone and he hoped he could distract her enough to figure out how a human was the blood-child of a vamp.
The vampiress, all midnight hair, red eyes, and near-white skin, glared at him. “You…”
She lifted her hand, claws at the ready, and he stilled himself as he waited for the blow. He would never—no matter his anger—strike a female. He deserved whatever Galla gave him. He’d been injured and Kate had done nothing but care for him, drawing the attention of the protectors which resulted in her kidnapping.
He’d woken and made assumptions that resulted in Kate’s blood in his mouth. Even that tiny amount was enough to violate the law. Vampires didn’t take from the unwilling. Now that he scented the air and sought out Katherine’s aroma, he noted the other flavors that infiltrated the copper of her blood.
Kate was marked as another’s property.
This vampire’s pain and fury should lay on his shoulders alone and he would take whatever Galla deemed appropriate punishment.
But as she lowered her claw-tipped hand, those glistening nails poised to dig into his skin, a single voice, a single touch, a single movement saved him.
It was her—Dr. Kate Bennett—who darted back into the room, around the vampires, and placed her body between Joce and the furious woman. “Galla, no!”
When those razor sharp nails found flesh, it was not his own.
Chapter Four
Joce did not question his actions, nor did he allow any to hinder him in his task. Screams erupted around him, roars from his fellow protectors and a high-pitched screech from Galla. Kate fell against him, the strength of Galla’s strike sending her tumbling backward and he caught her without thought. His fangs pressed forward as the lush scent of Katherine’s blood filled his nose, but he brushed aside the need to taste her. The red liquid poured from the deep gashes marring her human body, and he went into action as the violence of others suffused the space.
He immediately tore at his shirt, wrenching a piece of cloth free of his clothing and pressing it firmly to her face. He left it in place and swept her into his arms without hesitation. Then he carried her from the room, allowing Carac to handle the chaos left in his wake.
Joce had other tasks in mind—those that would save the human female. He would not acknowledge that something other than simply concern drove him. He would not look into his heart and know that the warmth filling his muscles came from Kate’s nearness.
He did not have a fire. He would not ever burn for another.
No one stopped him as he raced down the hallway, other protectors simply watching him as he sought safety and silence. More than that, he needed a space to repair the damage Galla caused.
Joce rounded one corner after another, fighting to ignore Kate’s moans and battling his instinctual desire to taste… and be tasted.
He did not have a fire. He would not ever burn for another.
Perhaps if he repeated the words often enough, he would believe them. Because his fangs… were not in agreement. He salivated, imagining her blood flowing over his taste buds once more.
He did not have a fire. He would not ever burn for another.
He rounded the last corner, the double doors leading to his destination finally in sight. Doors he’d vowed never to pass through. It was why he’d been tended in that far off room, why they’d kept him away from a place that reminded him of his past. He glanced at the moaning woman in his arms. For her, he would bear the memories.
For her.
The moment he was close enough, he kicked the door, sending it swinging inward in a wide arch to reveal the room. It was a modern clinic, but the side-by-side beds still reminded him of the one from hundreds of years ago, the one where he’d lost—
Kate whimpered, drawing him from those long ago events. “Hush, chéri, I have you.”
He did not have a fire. He would not ever burn for another.
Bright eyes met his, pain creating a haze of agony across her features. He fought to keep his hunger at bay in the presence of so much blood and sorrow. He’d created a life of pain and blood and now that he was faced with what he desired above all else, he found it repulsive.
With infinite care, he lowered her to one of the steel examination tables, the shined metal cradling her weight as he carefully withdrew his arms.
She snatched at his forearm, fingers digging into his skin. “Wait. I need…”
“I will care for you.” He extricated himself from her hold and raced through the room, using his vampire strength to move faster than any human.
Joce returned within moments, bandages, needle, and thread prepared. His immediate task was to stem the flow of blood and stitch her wounds. Then… they would deal with what remained. “Let’s remove this, Kate.”
She clutched the wad of red material, fighting his intent, but it was no use. He would get his way.
At the first sight of her wound, he wished he’d never tried. Her flesh was a matted mess of distorted flesh, deep furrows marring her face and continuing down her body. Her skin was flayed, some bone visible beneath the blood and tattered cloth.
It was a killing blow. Galla had meant to end his life for daring to touch what belonged to the elder vampiress.
His gut clenched, heart freezing and his fangs fully descended. As if his body knew better than him, as if it knew what had to be done to save Kate from death.
Did he dare? She was human. Galla’s human, but still human. She wouldn’t survive if he didn’t take action. Permanent, life extending action.
Shouts filtered through the doors, approaching yells telling him someone lost the battle to keep the female vamp away.
What was he supposed to do now?
His fangs, his cock, his body knew. He ignored her whimper, rushing to complete his task before they were interrupted. He ran to the palm pad, fist uncurled and hand outstretched as he reached for the smooth device.
The windows in the swinging doors told the rest of the story unfolding in the hallway. Of Galla rushing toward the room. He slammed his hand on the pad and held his breath as he waited for it to complete the scan. It took less than a breath, the green light sliding beneath his palm, and then came a rapid cacophony of metal against metal, grinding gears, and squealing bars.
Cage barriers unfolded from the wall in a lattice of bars and screen, covering the opening and securing them snugly within the medical suite while leaving the others outside. More yells, banging, screams… They all followed him as he raced to Kate’s side.
Agony wracked her body and much of the light filling her eyes was now dimmed and as she slowly died before him. Blood flowed over the gleaming metal, and he cursed. A wound caused by a vampire leaked until closed by another vamp or science forced the blood to clot. He swept her with his gaze, fangs pulsing with need and tongue tingling. If he took from her and gave enough he could not only save her but bind…
He did not have a fire. He would not ever burn for another.
He ignored the banging, snarls, and shouts. His attention solely remained on Katherine. “Chéri,” he called to her, raising his voice above the noise. Her head rolled to the side, her gaze straying. “No, look at me, chéri.”
He cupped her cheek and forced her to focus on him once more, ignoring the jolt of awareness that zapped through him. He fisted his other hand, skin and flesh vibrating in anticipation of what was to come. That single touch sealed her fate—their fates.
I have a fire. I will burn for another.
Even if it tore out his heart.
“Katherine,” he tapped her cheek. Not a slap, but not a caress. Just enough to secure her focus. “You are dying, chéri.” Panic and acceptance flitted across her face. “I can save you. I can Change you.” With every thump of her heart, more blood escaped. “It is turn or die.” Her eyes flicked to the door and he imagined she stared at the lone female in the hallway. Listening to Galla’s screams. A gentle touch turned her face once more. “I will Change you. No other’s blood will fill your veins. Ever.”
Joce could have it no other way.
“Yes or no, Kate.”
Her lips twitched, small pink tongue darting out to wet the plump bits of flesh. “Yes,” she wheezed. “Yes.”
Joce brought his free arm up and bared his fangs, sinking them into skin and muscle. He bit deeply, causing a rough wound that would take his body time to heal. He needed blood to flow freely as he completed the ritual.
“I give you life on this eve of death…” He held his arm above her body, fisting and uncurling his hand, encouraging his blood to stream, to slip from his body and cover hers.
Now, as he performed the rite, he remembered Liam’s whispered words, his worry over controlling his fire’s first Hunger and the fear that pummeled him in those first hours after she awoke. It took a strong vamp to control a newly Changed. But Tory was Liam’s fire. It made her different—better. A vampire’s fire without a fierce hunger.
Katherine would be the same. He knew it in his soul that she belonged to him.
“I give you joy on this brink of sadness…” He repeated the move, not allowing the stream to slow.
“I give you eternity in this single moment…” Again. Another rivulet that danced over her marred flesh. “May the night welcome you with its dark heart.”
The ceremony was done. The words were said and now the waiting would begin. Except… he stared at his jagged bite, watching it heal before his eyes. There were three more lines, those reserved for a fire alone. They weren’t fancy. Merely a few words scribbled in the margins of one of Brom’s books in his nearly illegible writings.
Brom who had more knowledge about fires than any other vampire.
Joce tore at his wrist once more. He lowered it to Kate’s mouth, pressing the bleeding wound to her lips, ignoring her healing injury. “May the fire in your soul burn away the midnight shadows.” He reached for her arm, guiding it between their bodies. “May the fire in your blood destroy all who threaten.” Katherine suckled his wrist, the strength increasing with each pull. His blood did exactly as he’d hoped, healing her damage. “May the fire in your heart…” He brought her arm to his mouth and licked her pulse point, whispering the last few words against her damp flesh. “…tie us for eternity.”
And then he bit.
Chapter Five
Pain.
So much pain.
It tore at Kate’s body, raking its nails down her arms, sinking into her very bones. It scraped and scratched, digging its talons into her flesh until she was sure she’d die.
And she burned. Dammit, she burned. As if she was on fire from inside out, her marrow aflame and her blood boiling with the heat. She throbbed in time with her heart, from a massive ache that pulsed. Her muscles were no longer her own, flexing and spasming in time with the rhythmic thud racing on and on and slowly… ebbing.
The trembles that accompanied the agony gradually eased, settling into a regular thump.
Slowly.
Breath by breath.
Beat by beat.
Slowly.
And slower still.
The moment it abandoned Kate to small aches, she fought for air. Her lungs expanded, mouth opening as she sucked oxygen into her body. She heaved deeply, fighting for all she could consume. She arched off the bed, eyes splitting open and mouth hanging wide with the massive inhale. Cool, crisp air filled her lungs, freezing her and easing the raging inferno. Even more of the nagging ache receded, leaving two things in its wake.
Pulsating gums and a soul deep hunger. Her stomach screamed for food, demanding to be filled and sated.
Kate’s muscles relaxed bit by bit as her body slowly lowered to the solid, cold table beneath her. Her body demanded to be filled with… She licked her lips and a coppery sweetness glided over her taste buds. She wanted that. Whatever that was. She wanted—needed—more. Her stomach clenched, gut tightening as a wave of hunger overtook her.
Soon.
Now.
A shout drew her attention, encouraging her to turn her head. Demanding her body to move, she flopped her head sideways in search of the speaker. Her gaze landed on a set of metal doors, bars and mesh blocking the entrance. To keep her inside or them out?
Them? She frowned and narrowed her eyes. She recognized Galla. Galla? Why was she… wherever Kate was?
It all rushed forward. Memories attacked, swelling and tripping over her in a massive wave of emotions. The hospital. The mansion. Vampires. Joce.
Sexy Joce.
Seductive Jo
ce.
Vampire Joce who nibbled on her neck and… She shuddered, a hint of arousal unfurling inside her. He’d taken a taste and then… she wasn’t sure. She frowned, trying to remember.
Oh. Then Galla showed up. Angry. No, her grandmother was furious. Not a happy emotion for a vampire.
Fighting. No, one strike and then so much blood. Her own.
But through it all, there was Joce.
I give you life on this eve of death…
…may the fire in your heart tie us for eternity.
Kate ignored the continued yells and heavy pounding, instead lifting her hands to her face, her neck, then her chest… The wounds were gone. No ache lingered and her fingers didn’t encounter rough or scarred flesh. She forced her muscles to respond to her commands and lifted her head, staring down at her body. Her bloodstained clothes remained mostly in place—some of them in tatters—but the locations where her injuries should be were unmistakable. The shredded cloth showed exactly where Galla’s nails ran deep.
She should have died.
I give you life on this eve of death…
She’d said yes. She remembered. Joce asked her if she wanted to live and then Joce had…
“Joce?” she hardly recognized her rasping voice. “Joce?” It was stronger then, but still weak and she frowned when she got no response.
The hunger that rode her eased back as concern for him shoved forward. In her heart, Joce was more important than a meal. Locating him was the most imperative thing now.
She demanded her body do her bidding once more, pushing her weight to her elbows and then carefully swinging her legs over the edge of the table. Clutching her stomach when a twinge of pain struck her, she forced herself upright. The world spun, darkness threatening, but she blinked it away.
Still their yelling continued and she curled her lip, anger at the group rising hot and fast. Without thought she glared at Galla and bared a fang, hissing at the woman she called grandmother. “Silence.”
Kate wasn’t sure who was more surprised, her or Galla, but it got them quiet so she didn’t care. Now she could focus on finding Joce.
