“Listen, you’ve got to hurry up. Drive faster.”
“I am.”
“No. Faster. Much faster,” Cade insisted. “And put on the damn siren already.”
Moselle gave him a brief although cross look. Cade knew she was not used to receiving orders.
“You know, it’s too bad Nicodemus isn’t here. He could drive this truck a hundred miles an hour with no worries.”
“Too bad, indeed.”
Cade looked in front of them, Jackson was long gone. “You know who else can drive fast, Moselle?”
“Who, Cade?”
“Jackson. He’s speeding away. Long gone.”
The fire engine suddenly jerked forward.
“No clue what will happen to Jackson if he gets to your house before us. I mean, I won’t be there to protect him from Nico and Natalia. They’ve never met him. Know what I mean?”
Moselle flipped the siren on. Her foot was heavy on the pedal now. Cade could see the speedometer had finally moved past seventy.
That worked; that finally got her going.
“Good job, I—”
Before Cade could finish, he was struck in the side by one of the slime bats. It latched itself onto him and was trying to bite him.
He punched the thing in its fox-shaped head and shouted, “Trying to bite a vampire? Are you daft?”
“You should be underground, vamp.”
“You too?” he said before he ripped its wings off and tossed it away like throwing a fish that was too small back to the sea. “Tired of hearing that.”
Cade stood shakily atop the cab and focused solely on the pull. He couldn’t recall the last time it had yanked his bones to the earth. It’s lightened so much, it’s nearly nonexistent. That can mean only one of two things. Cade shivered.
Moselle hit a bump that knocked him down, making him tumble over and crash up against the turret. He grabbed on and held it tight. The last thing he wanted was to fall out and get left behind.
He looked up at a passing street sign as he settled himself into the turret enclosure. Moselle was taking the main highway out. Less time, he thought, but possibly more dangerous.
“I like your style, Moselle.”
Cade looked back again; they had seemingly outraced the destruction. A cloud of smoke rose up; fires burned and lit the night sky. A building suddenly swayed and collapsed. For a moment, it looked and felt like Stalingrad all over again.
Cade rubbed his eyes and blinked. When he reopened his eyes everything had returned to normal.
“You best hurry, Moselle,” Cade shouted. “I think I might be suffering from some seriously bad PTSD back here.”
Cade… Dunyasha’s icy voice suddenly echoed in his head. What conflict have you entrenched yourself in this time, my soldier?
“No, no, no…”
Cade grabbed his head and dug his fingertips into his skull until Dunyasha’s voice returned like a distant echo.
Gone. Not here. There. No. Come to me, Cade. Come to me now.
“I’m coming.”
Sabrina Gets Her Groove Back
Sabrina yawned and stretched. It was only then that she realized her dress was covered in tears. She pinched the fabric over a large slit that ran the full width of her stomach. The red fabric felt wet, and when she rubbed her fingers together they were sticky. Sabrina looked at her hand and slowly realized that it was blood that coated her fingertips.
I’m hurt…I’m hurt bad.
Sabrina pushed up into a seated position, pressing her hand down into a puddle of blood that had pooled on the leather car seat.
“Jackson…” she whispered.
“Yeah?” Jackson sounded surprised. “You were so quiet back there. I thought you were—”
“I’m bleeding,” Sabrina stated as she looked at her blood-covered hand. “I’m bleeding all over.”
“You’re okay,” his calm voice assured her. “Lots of cuts, but I didn’t see anything that looked critical.”
“W-what happened?”
“There was an explosion. It knocked you out, blew a couple of Moselle’s fingers off.”
An explosion. Sabrina only remembered the sound. Very loud and sudden…and then nothing.
She stared down at herself as her foggy head cleared. It looked like every inch of her body was covered in some sort of wound: deep cuts on her stomach and chest, scratches on her arms and legs, two shallow punctures in her hip, even her cheek felt bruised. She had not felt so beat up since Kintner’s office. Kintner…
“Damn it! Not again!” Sabrina shouted angrily at the memory. “Get out of my head!”
Jackson looked back at her briefly, and for a second, she held his gaze. She saw something in his eyes—the way they hung heavily on her a moment. What’s he not telling me?
“Jackson, can you pull the car over?”
“We’re suppose to go to Moselle’s house,” he stated. “Not exactly sure why. It’s what Cade told me to do when we were attacked.”
Sabrina sighed. “Cade…”
“Yeah, he showed up at your self-storage place right after you were hurt. He was driving a weird-looking fire engine. It was crazy…and kinda cool.”
“I bet.” She shook her head.
“He said he had a plan.”
Sabrina knew all about Cade’s plans. They normally worked, but with his bloodthirsty clan mates around, she was worried his loyalty to them would supersede his concern for her well-being.
“Did he say anything else?” she asked. “Did he tell you why all this was happening?”
“No.”
Sabrina twisted her bangle as she grumbled, “Of course not.”
“I have my cell phone here in my pocket,” Jackson said as he patted his pant leg. “We could call him or Moselle.”
“No! Just stop!” she roared and then quickly calmed herself. “Jackson, please pull over. Anywhere. Just please pull over.”
He looked back at her again; this time she only saw compassion in his eyes.
“You need to heal, right?”
“Yes.”
Jackson exited Route 101 at Santa Monica Boulevard and drove slowly until he reached the entrance to Hollywood Forever Cemetery.
Sabrina watched out the window as they arrived. “Seriously, Jackson?”
“I figured you wanted someplace quiet. This place is closed.”
She stared out the window at the large mausoleum. The way the moonlight lit the white stone made the building look—appropriately—like something out of an old movie.
The last time she had visited a cemetery, she was only a child, long before she had wings, and it was to visit her grandmother’s grave.
Her father’s mother had died long before she was born, but her father had told her so many stories of the woman that Sabrina felt like she knew her, even at a young age. But it was not her father’s grief that she remembered; it was her mother’s. Normally devoid of emotion, her mother had released a deluge of tears that day. Sabrina never knew why. She had been too afraid to ask.
“I think my parents are dead.”
Jackson turned around in his seat and fully faced her now. “What?”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s just a feeling, you know,” she said. “Those things that attacked me earlier today, they said something and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“Can you call them?”
“No. Could you not stare at me?” Sabrina asked when she could no longer bear the weight of his scrutiny.
“I wasn’t staring,” he said as he turned away, but kept looking at her through the rearview mirror.
“You were.”
“Jesus, Sabrina,” Jackson grumbled. “I’m doing my best here. Like I told Moselle, I’m only fucking human. I don’t understand all this otherworldly mess.”
Sabrina understood more than Jackson would ever know. She preferred to live like she was human not otherworldly, unlike Moselle and Cade who at times reveled in their unnatura
l state of death.
“I’m sorry, Jackson.”
“Don’t.”
Sabrina thought of all the ways she’d wished this night would have ended. Many of them with her in bed with a man that could fulfill her lustful needs. She would have liked to seduce her man until he broke. She wanted to feel his desire grow with every touch of her body. Her fire matched by his and joined to become an all-consuming inferno.
Sabrina shivered; not because she was chilly. She shivered because so many of her lovers were cold.
“Where’s Cade now?”
“I figured he was following us.”
Sabrina nodded. It was just as she’d suspected. “You know, Jackson, if Cade found me like this, saw me like this—half-naked, covered in blood, bleeding—he might want to fuck me. But he’d almost certainly kill me.”
Jackson peeked over his shoulder at her. “He wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Jackson,” Sabrina nearly laughed. “He hurts me all the time. Every time he bites me, it hurts.”
“I mean—”
“Has he bit you?” she asked.
“No.” Jackson sounded annoyed. “No.”
“Well, how would you know then? It fucking hurts, Jackson.”
“But that’s…”
When he didn’t finish his sentence, Sabrina took a guess. “Foreplay?”
He shrugged, a look of discomfort on his face.
“Okay. Fine.” Sabrina waved her hands about. “Yeah, I get so worked up that, in the moment, I don’t care that he’s biting me. But it still fucking hurts.”
“So why would you think he would want to kill you now?”
“Because he’s a damn vampire. A fucking predator.”
“And you’re injured prey.”
“See, you get it.” She pointed. “You probably did the same when playing football.”
“Hockey,” Jackson sighed. “And yes, we would go after wounded players.”
Sabrina yanked at her dress where it bunched up under her breasts. She tried to straighten it, but it was no use. It was too damaged and only tore when she pulled at it.
“You know they can smell blood? And from pretty fucking far away too. And when they’re hungry or, in Cade’s case, fighting the pull and hungry…” Sabrina fought off crying—she wanted to be strong. “If he finds me like this, I’m dead.”
“Isn’t he here to protect you?”
“With his brothers and sister?” she asked sarcastically. “There’s more going on here. Trust me.”
Jackson turned fully around again. “Then I’ll protect you.”
She smiled. “I trust you will.”
She felt a sea of emotions churn inside her belly. Her desire, the wickedness it created in her and the remorse it made her feel, combined and overwhelmed her. She didn’t know if the tears she fought off were tears of sadness, joy, or relief. But one thing felt certain: this hurt—it would not go on forever. It ended tonight.
“You ever feel like there’s no tomorrow?”
“When my wrist was broken, yeah.”
“I just feel it in my heart, this weird nothingness. And it’s sitting right there, next to the sense that my parents are dead. Just this impression, you know, like today is my last day.”
“That’s dark, Sabrina,” he said. “What can I do? I could—”
“I’m fine. I just…I just need a moment alone to release my wings and heal.”
“Right. Fine.” Jackson opened the car door and got out. “I guess I’ll go keep watch or something,” he said through the window.
“Jackson, wait.”
“What?”
“Did Peter…”
Jackson hesitated a second, but answered, “He’s fine. He’s fine, Sabrina.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Sabrina watched Jackson wander off. She felt bad for him. He was only involved in all this because of Moselle. And she knew Moselle had not given him a moment’s rest in days.
Why does he stay? Could he really love her that much? Could the love of a dead woman really be reward enough for a man like him at the end of the day?
There was no time to think about it. The pain from her wounds was getting worse. Sabrina had lost a lot of blood, and although fairies produced blood cells a lot quicker than humans did, she was still feeling a little woozy.
She gazed down at a small mark on her thigh, one left from Kintner. A reminder that if she did not heal soon, scars would form. And regardless of everything else, she found the idea of any more blemishes spoiling her smooth skin entirely unacceptable.
Sabrina inched her butt over to the center of the backseat and sat up straight. A spike of pain resonated from a rib on her right side. Probably broken. She shook her head and laughed. I’m lucky to be alive. I’m lucky to have friends who care—friends like Jackson.
Sabrina peered down the driveway at him and sighed. “I’m surprised you even like me. Hell, I might have left you back there to die had you fucked with my head as much as you probably feel I’ve fucked with yours.”
Sabrina unfurled her wings. They crackled loudly and shined bright, even for her.
“Whew.”
She had absorbed a lot of sun in the past few days and knew that healing herself was going to be easy as a result, but not without its side effects.
Jackson…
Sabrina poked her head out the window. He was out by the street now, his cell phone up to his ear. I hope he’s not calling Moselle. Not now.
“Hey, Stonewall!”
Jackson glanced back and shrugged.
“We all clear?”
“Yep.”
Sabrina wrestled with what she wanted to say next and her pause was long enough to lose Jackson’s attention. He had faced the street again and went back to his phone.
How does this night end, Sabs? she asked herself. Alive or dead? That’s always been the question hasn’t it? Jackson is alive. Cade and Moselle are dead. And you’re stuck in the middle. Again. Something out there wants you dead because of what you are. But what are you, Sabs? What are you? Time to decide.
When a tremor rattled the limousine, her mind snapped to their present ordeal. The shake drew her attention to the floor, where she spotted her cell phone. It did not have Jackson’s contact information stored in it, but she pictured the numbers in her mind—scrawled on the back of a business card he gave her the night they met at the Club Afterlife.
After she keyed in his digits, she composed a text. She smirked as a new idea entered her mind. She erased the message she was about to send and quickly replaced it with an up-the-skirt shot. Heh. Yeah. This’ll get his attention.
About a minute after she sent it, Jackson opened the door and leaned in.
“See, now you’re just fucking with me.”
“Would you just come in and sit down already?”
Jackson hesitated.
“Please, Jackson?” she said. “Please?”
“Fine.” He got in and shut the door. “What do you want?”
“I thought you might like to watch.”
“Watch what?”
“Me heal.”
“The last time I watched you—you know—in the shower—you got weird with me.”
“I know. It’s been an odd week. I’m sorry.”
After another brief tremor, Jackson answered, “It sure as hell has.”
Sabrina looked him up and down. The way he jiggled his leg gave away that he felt uneasy. She blamed herself, she had not been the best company.
“You and I get it the worst.” She pointed out.
“We do.” He nodded.
She tilted her head until she caught his eye. “Sometimes, I think you kinda get it the absolute worst.”
“I kinda do.”
Sabrina gazed around the back of the limo for a second. “You sit over there,” she pointed. “And I’ll sit across from you.”
“Okay,” he said as he moved. “You are cut up pretty bad. I hadn’t really noticed it all when I carried you
to the limo. I was just so focused on getting you out of there, away from all the chaos…”
Jackson rubbed his face with his palm. He looked stressed.
“Hey, you did good.” Sabrina stood hunching, smiled, and patted his knee. “You saved me. I’ll be fine. You relax, watch, and enjoy, okay?”
“Do we have time for this?”
“We have time.” Sabrina’s smile turned sly. “And you’re really gonna like this. You’re really gonna like this a lot.”
“Watching you heal? How do you heal?” Jackson looked up from his palms where his head had rested a second. “Not like Moselle, right?”
“Remember how I told you that we fairy-kind have two circulatory systems? That I’m solar powered?”
Jackson let loose with a short chuckle. “Solar powered. Yeah. How’s that work for you?”
Sabrina sat back down.
“Well, to make it super—fucking—simple, I store solar energy. It charges my atoms and it gets synthesized. Processed basically.”
Jackson stared at her a moment and then said, “Through your skin. Your skin makes your wings.”
“Basically.” Sabrina crossed and uncrossed her legs. “Well done, Mr. College Graduate.”
“Thanks. In college, I had friends who took all sorts of supplements. One guy, he preached it. It was a whole lifestyle, I swear,” Jackson said. “He used to hand out articles he found on the Internet. I remember reading one about how the body makes vitamin D. This solar power thing just made me think of it.”
“Well, then you might find this interesting. My skin makes vitamin D, vitamin C, hormones, pheromones, and enough electricity for me to do that trick where you light a light bulb by simply holding it. All because of the sun.”
“That’s amazing.”
“It’s really what makes me…me.”
Jackson’s face scrunched slightly. “You mean if your skin didn’t do that—”
“I wouldn’t be a fairy. Another point for you.”
“What happens if you stay out of the sun for a long time—a really long time—will you just turn human?”
“You watch too many movies, babe.”
“Well, it makes sense, right?”
“I’d die.”
“Oh.”
Sabrina straightened herself again and slid to the edge of her seat.
Two Polluted Black-Heart Romances Page 31
