Life's Blood (Pulse Book 2) (PULSE Vampire Series)

by Kailin Gow

  Wait here, Kalina. We will find you.

  The remaining moments felt like hours. Kalina could hear her heartbeat echoing through the dungeon. That sound above her – that slow rippling. Why, it must be the rushing of the Seine – the endless night of the underground.

  Mal returned, a huge grin on his face.

  “Ready for more fun, little girl?”

  Kalina closed her eyes.

  Octavius, hurry.

  And then Octavius was there, swooping down upon Mal, his fangs bared, wet with blood, invigorated.

  Mermaid blood.

  But Octavius was not alone. Behind him were three familiar figures, all armed and porting long fangs, wet too with the same blood. They were figures she recognized; her heart jumped at all of them. Stuart, Jaegar, and Aaron had all come – fighting side-by-side along Octavius, fighting for her! Mal was strong, but as the four of them moved Kalina could understand that they had something that Mal did not – centuries of experience fighting together, caring for each other, saving each other's lives in battle. They moved not like four separate vampires but like one single entity, more powerful than its individual components. Together they fought – when Jaegar lunged, Stuart parried, and when Aaron thrust with his stake, Octavius leaped forward.

  She could see their telepathic communications – Aaron rushed to her, cutting her loose from her bonds, and placing something into her hands.

  “A water gun?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “It's filled with Holy Water,” said Aaron. “Just...wait 'till we're out of the way, first.”

  She staggered to her feet; Aaron supported her.

  “Get back,” he shouted, as she stumbled into a corner, holding the water gun before her.

  He returned to the fray, and the four of them continued to fight, until Mal at last was weakened enough for him to fall back. The others retreated.

  “Kalina, now!” shouted Aaron.

  With the last of her fading strength, she pulled the trigger, sending a jet of Holy Water straight into Mal's heart. He let out a terrible cry, enough for her to know that she had struck him, and seriously injured him.

  It was the last thing she heard, weak from hunger and lack of blood, she passed out.

  When Kalina woke up, she was in far more pleasant circumstances. She was lying on a soft feather bed, swaddled in a soft comforter. She was wearing clean white linen pajamas, and next to her she could see a full tray of food – croissants, baguettes, jam – with a hot pot of milk. The smell refreshed her, and she leaned up.

  “Thank God you're awake!” Stuart's voice was warm and comforting alongside her. “She's up!” he shouted.

  The others came rushing in.

  “We've been taking turns watching you,” said Stuart. “You've been out for two days.”

  “Where am I?” Kalina looked around.

  “Octavius’ chateau,” said Jaegar. “In the south of France. The moat's been refilled...with Holy Water. Which means Mal can't get in.”

  “And we can't get out,” Aaron added.

  “He's not dead?” Kalina asked.

  “Severely weakened,” Octavius said. “Your shot with the Holy Water knocked him out. But with your blood in him...he could not be killed. We bound him up with silver, doused him with the rest of the Holy Water, and covered him in crucifixes, then left him where the sun would find him. I fear, given his ingestion, that will last him...about a week.”

  “But my blood!” Kalina cried.

  “What blood?”

  “Mal took vials of my blood,” she said. “To sell – he must have taken seven or eight.”

  “No wonder you were so weak,” said Octavius. “You've ingested all of our blood. None of us alone had enough to save you, so we each fed you what we could. Had we been able to wake you, we would have asked you first, but...”

  “No, it's fine.” Kalina sighed. “You didn't take the blood.”

  Octavius’ face darkened. “Afraid not,” he said. “We found one vial on Illyria's body. We didn't know what it was at the time – we nearly drank it.”

  “Octavius convinced us not to,” said Aaron.

  “Good thing,” said Kalina. She coughed.

  The four of them remained by her bedside for quite some time longer. The blood of the four of them had healed her physically, but they all knew that the psychic wounds would take longer. Kalina still kept scratching at her arms and legs where the puncture wounds had been, jumping and starting at every unexpected noise in the room. At the same time, Kalina thought, it was good to see all the Greystone brothers again. She was touched that, even after everything that had happened between them, they stayed loyal to their maker – their disloyalty as a result of their feelings for Kalina now put aside, in favor of fealty to their maker, and a knowledge of doing the right thing. As the four of them interacted – Aaron only a slight remove – with each other and with her, Kalina was sure that Octavius had done the right thing by taking her out of the chaos and confusion of Rutherford. After her week abroad, Kalina was able to look at all four of them with new eyes. She appreciated them more than ever now – Stuart's kindness and bravery, Aaron's loyalty, Jaegar's fun-loving attitude – and appreciated them all the more for the parts of Octavius she saw in them. They were truly Octavius’ off-spring – in him she had found a combination of all their best parts, tempered by years of experience as both a human and in the existence he had found afterwards. And yet, as she gazed upon them all, she could not help but feel her eyes drawn most to Octavius – after all they had shared, all they had done together. She thought back to the night of her eighteenth birthday in Paris, a colorful blush coming to her cheeks. With the others she had been so confused, so unsure – trying to decide which quality most endeared her to which brother – but with Octavius she had been so total, so sure...

  But he did not ask to spend time alone with her now. He let the four of them remain with her, and Kalina was too shy to ask for time alone with him.

  It would come, she thought, drifting back off to sleep again. She would speak to him, confess her love to him, and offer him her blood at last...The time would come.

  Chapter 17

  Time passed quickly in the south of France The chateau was located in a green field near a forest, and while they mutually decided it was best not to leave the castle at night, Kalina nevertheless spent a good deal of her time gazing out the window at the lush French countryside before her. What torture it was, she thought, to be able to look upon such beauty, and not go out in it! Nevertheless, she knew as well as the others did that leaving the castle with Mal about was not safe. She shuddered as she remembered his cruel smile, his grinning face. Over and over again she saw it in nightmares, trying to shut his telepathy out. Octavius had helped her practice her technique, so that she forced herself – whenever she suspected her mind might have an invader – to think of a decoy location: an Italian villa, a Swiss chalet, to distract Mal from their real whereabouts. Likewise, Octavius regretfully refused to tell Kalina more specifically where they were located. “It's too dangerous,” he said darkly. “I can't risk letting Malvolio know.”

  Nevertheless, Kalina tried to force Mal out of her mind – at least when the other vampires were around. She tried to convince herself that she was safe now, that there were four of the strongest and bravest vampires she knew to protect her, and yet she could not stop worrying. Mal was still out there, she knew. And he still wanted her.

  She spent all of her time with the vampires in a group. She was surprised at first, and saddened, to see that Octavius did not wish to spend time alone with her. Had he lost respect for her? Had she succumbed too quickly? She flushed every time she thought about it, and then quickly closed off her brain, lest Mal or Octavius hear her thoughts.

  Time with the four of them was pleasant enough. Jaegar regaled them all with jokes – Stuart served out vampire wine, and they all made various toasts: “To love!” “To loyalty!” “To life!” (this last one was conducted with something o
f an ironic smile. It was clear that they were back in Octavius’ good graces, and furthermore that this was the life that they had led long before Kalina – a life of untroubled brotherhood, of men not torn apart from each other by love. Their affection for Kalina was clear, but they respected Octavius – as their leader and their maker – and none of them seemed nearly as expressive as they had been back in Rutherford, when Kalina had felt overwhelmed by three sets of simultaneous brotherly advances.

  Only Aaron seemed somewhat awkward around the proceedings. He had not originally fought with Octavius, Kalina knew, only served as a wine-maker and taster for Octavius’ army. And it was clear that he remembered Octavius better as the origin of his imprisonment than as any father-figure – he seemed almost to resent the other brothers' attachment to the general who had kept him in a dungeon for six months. Poor Aaron, thought Kalina. It was his attachment to Kalina – romantic and blood-related – that had kept Octavius from her this long; while it had seemed chivalrous, at first, the more she knew of Octavius, she realized that the betrayal was strictly personal. Octavius would never have hurt her; he had treated her with perfect, gentlemanly restraint and waited for her to come to him. But Aaron was still seventeen at heart, and easily made jealous and possessive. He knew that his selfishness had been the cause of the rift between Octavius and his two older brothers, and shame seemed to flush over his face during the gatherings.

  Still, they all seemed happy enough, with only the unspoken shadow of Mal passing over them.

  They had been in the chateau a week when at last Kalina stole a moment alone with Octavius, after a rich dinner only she had eaten.

  “I haven't spoken to you all week!” said Kalina, catching him on the stairwell.

  He started and looked down. “I'm afraid,” he said gravely, “that I have a great deal of business to attend to. I am sorry.”

  He continued on the stairs.

  “What's going on?” She followed him up the spiral staircase to his bedchamber. “Is everything okay?” She put her hand on his shoulder; he lightly brushed it away.

  “I didn't want to tell you this,” Octavius sighed. “Not now – not right away. But I am – I think it best...if you go home.”

  “Go home? And leave you?”

  Octavius gave a stiff nod. “The brothers will take care of you, guard you. Mal...I will track him down here – do what I can...”

  “And us?”

  The words echoed into silence.

  Octavius took a deep breath. “I am afraid there is no us, Kalina,” he said slowly. He flinched, and then continued a speech so precise as to have been clearly prepared. “Kalina – you are so young – so young. And I was a fool to ask you here – to expect you to...you have a life prepared for you. University. Friends. A career – a phenomenal life's calling free from what is in your blood. I refer to your mind, Kalina. Your brilliant, insightful mind – that thrilled to Tosca in Rome, that read the Nepal papers in Paris...I cannot sacrifice that for a life of being the plaything to vampires one hundred times your age – more!”

  “But...” Kalina's lip began to tremble. “How can you say that? After everything...?”

  “It was a fancy,” said Octavius.

  “A fancy?” Kalina couldn't help shouting. “Like Olive – just a plaything...till you were bored?”

  “I didn't mean it like that!” Octavius’ voice seethed with anger. “You need to grow up – to grow old – to choose your own fate, instead of being drawn into my own...”

  She only heard the first sentence. “Grow up?” She put her hands on her hips. “What, I'm too young for you, now? You didn't seem to have any problems with my age in Paris – after the opera...”

  “Kalina, please!” For the first time, Octavius raised his head, and Kalina could see that his eyes were full of tears.

  “But, I love you.” Her voice was soft and slow, shaking. “You were the one – I wanted...I wanted to give you...to become...”

  “And what would that have done?” Octavius rounded on her. “If I were to turn into a human – how would I protect you then? I would be killed in moments – and you would be easy prey for Malvolio. One moment of happiness – and then I would be useless. The Consortium is dead, Kalina. The largest confederation of honorable vampires chopped off at the head in a single hour's battle. It falls to me, as the cause of all this, to carry out their work – to keep order. I cannot do that as a human. I cannot protect you as a human.”

  But Kalina could hear none of this through her tears. All she understood was Octavius’ rejection of her, and the pain was worse than any taunts or terrors that Mal could have devised.

  “Please, Octavius,” she whispered. She tried to open up their telepathic connection, to reach out to him in that land of shapes and shadows beyond speech, where everything seemed so much better, so much truer. But there was only silence.

  He had closed himself off from her.

  “Please,” said Octavius. “Do not make this more difficult than it has to be. I was – I apologize – a passing fancy for you.”

  “You weren't!”

  “You were young, impressionable – you had not seen the world. I took advantage of that – in my happiness I dreamed it was not so, that you truly loved me – but I am far too old to be naïve to my own actions. I took advantage of your innocence – when you should have chosen instead someone closer to your own age, your own experience. You were old for eighteen; I was a fool to believe you were nearly as old as a vampire turned at twenty-seven, who was twenty-seven for a thousand years...”

  “It wasn't my youth!”

  “I took you to Paris – to Rome – you were overwhelmed – the champagne, the clothes...you didn't love me...”

  She felt her blood boil. “So I was only with you because you bought me things and took me places?” she shouted. “What do you take me for? You think it was about that?”

  Their conversations about art and religion, about philosophy, their love of opera...

  Finally, Octavius sighed deeply, and looked upon her with more pain that she could ever have imagined in his eyes. “I lied to you, Kalina,” he said. “I told you I would not use compulsion upon you, but I lied.”

  “What?”

  “Your feelings for me – they are not real. They were only a fantasy. Go to Jaegar, to Stuart – to Aaron. They will care for you, as I cannot. You cared for them – you did. And I took that from you, with compulsion.”

  “You didn't! They were real! My feelings were real.”

  “I am a skilled vampire, Kalina. You did not recognize it – but it was true...”

  “I don't believe you.”

  “Go!” Octavius cried, his face white with rage. “Hate me – if you must. But now you are free. You do not love me. You never loved me. It was only an illusion. And now you must hate me. It is...better that you hate me.”

  “Fine!” Kalina found herself shouting. “I do hate you!” Tears were pouring down her cheeks. “You and your stupid Paris flats and your stupid philosophy talk and your stupid – stupid operas!” She could not stop herself. “Go to hell!” She slammed the door behind her, running in a flood of tears down the stairs.

  She stopped on the landing to gain her breath – just for a minute. She recalled Octavius’ eyes – the look on his face – that pain – he was lying, it couldn't have been compulsion, it couldn't have been...

  She finally reached her bedroom and threw herself into bed, soaking through the pillowcases with the sheer enormity of her tears.

  **********

  The next few days passed in something of a blur. Kalina returned to a human sleep schedule – sleeping through the night, waking at dawn – precisely to avoid Octavius. But the daylight was no balm for her pain. She kept going over and over again what Octavius had said to her – that he had used compulsion on her, that she didn't really love him. She thought back to her magical week with Octavius in Rome and in Paris. It had been so beautiful – so wonderful. And had it been all a lie? I
t hadn't felt like compulsion – that strange, hypnotic sense she had experienced when Jaegar had tried it on her. It had felt alive, felt real.

  Kalina refused to answer the door, refused to eat. At last Stuart, who had some idea what was going on – but little beyond a general sense of Kalina's unhappiness, forced her to swallow down some breakfast cereal.

  “I feel too sick,” said Kalina. She could not look at him. She could not look at anybody. She felt like such a fool – stringing along all of the Greystone brothers before throwing them all over for Octavius, only to get her heart broken in the end. She was angry at herself, feeling almost as if she deserved the pain. But Stuart didn't blame her.

  “That's because you haven't eaten in three days,” said Stuart gently. “Besides, you need your energy for a flight.”

  “We're...leaving?” Deep down, Kalina had hoped that Octavius would change his mind – would come back to her – would apologize... but she had not seen him since she slammed that door in his face during that terrible argument.

  “Flight back to Frisco tonight.”

  “No!” Kalina hugged herself tighter.

  “Come on,” Stuart touched her hair lightly. “You'll be happy to see Maeve again. And your brother. He thinks you're with me in Aspen...”

  Of course. Justin didn't even know that Stuart and Kalina were no longer a couple.

  “I'm sure he's just as worried about that,” said Kalina. Nevertheless, she forced down a few spoonfuls of cereal.

  They arrived early the next morning into San Francisco; Stuart and Jaegar drove Kalina home. She was still shell-shocked from the events of the past few weeks. Seeing Rutherford again was like seeing something out of a dream. It seemed so strange to her now – the little white houses, the trees, the golden sunlight, the cul-de-sacs. She had been in a world of such magic and mystery – and such pain – that Rutherford seemed impossibly small to her. She could not be happy to be home.

  Of course Octavius would have tired of her, she told herself. She was just some stupid teenager, an eighteen-year-old girl who had never left California before, who cared about idiotic things like clothes and cheerleading. How Octavius must have cringed when she talked about her cheerleading tryouts, her college applications! No wonder he hadn't wanted her. The tears stood still and heavy in her eyes.