She glanced back at the mayor. “And where does Balor fit in?”
He ground his teeth. “Some of the patients were very unhappy and ended up complaining to the Centers for Disease Control. For a rather large cut of the profits, Balor was willing to turn a blind eye.”
“So why kill him?”
“He got greedy, which made him stupid,” Mayor McCallum said.
“And what about the other murders, Vane? What about the missing organs?”
“A few members of our operation, particularly Dr. Chung, decided that in addition to ichor, transplant organs would be profitable as a sideline. Especially if provided by those who were threatening the profitable little venture we had been working on so diligently.”
“And you let them?”
“Why not? They were going to go to waste otherwise.”
Yes. That made perfect sense. Why question it? Thoughts, clearly not her own thoughts, were pushing at her brain, trying to take over. Those stoplight eyes sucked her in until all she could see was red. Kristin began drifting toward Vane, letting go of her purse, unable to stop herself. Everything else around them faded, the restaurant, the people. A white fog had taken their place.
“Good. Now take my hand.” He extended a hand toward her.
The hand without the silver charm bracelet extended as if she had no free will. A small voice in the back of her mind took it all in and said with utmost detachment, So this is what a glamour feels like. Another part of her, deeper still, silently screamed bloody murder.
Vane captured her hand in his viselike grip, and suddenly the fog lifted and they were outside the restaurant in the moonlight. Her purse and the spike were gone. Water slapped against the piers beneath the buildings and traffic streaked by with a whoosh two stories above them on the Alaskan Way Viaduct across the street.
“Let go of her.” Dmitri’s voice echoed hard and commanding off the walls of the building behind them.
Vane yanked her so hard against him that the action slammed the breath from her body and made her shoulder socket burn.
“What’s wrong, Dmitri? Don’t approve of my bargaining chip?”
“She has nothing to do with our border dispute. Let her go. Your argument is with me.”
“Wrong, brother.” He spoke the word like a curse. “She has everything to do with it. If it weren’t for this nosy little bitch, we’d have taken over from your clan already.”
“Changing mortals without their consent is illegal in this clan and every other on this continent.”
Vane growled. “That’s why I don’t belong to any of them. When are you going to figure it out, Dmitri? The blood bags don’t want us here. They’ll kill us all the moment they get the chance. There isn’t going to be any peace now that they know. The sooner we establish who’s in control, the sooner we can live in the open.”
“You and I both know this comes down to power. You and your nest want it.”
“Is that what you think? That this is just my pitiful nest looking for hunting grounds? God, you are an imbecile. We serve Eris, Trejan. Do you know who she is?”
Dmitri’s jaw clenched so hard he thought the bone might crack. He knew, all right. Eris, daughter of Ares, was chaos incarnate, the literal goddess of discord. She was one of the first, who had become one of the worst. There was no need to compare her to Lucifer because she was, in fact, the reason the devil came to be. Part vampire, part fallen angel and all ancient god, she was hell personified and put on earth to torment, causing strife, heartache and misery in her wake. She thrived on it. Fed from it. No vampire with two brain cells to rub together would be stupid enough to go against Eris and believe he could survive.
For over two thousand years she’d been locked up in a special cage underneath the Parthenon, created from silver and orichcalcum, just waiting to be set free. Then, just before the beginning of the First World War, someone had freed her. Had Dmitri realized during his studies with the priests that the beast to be unleashed during the end times was really Eris, he would have been completely demoralized and given up any hope right then and there. With Eris on the prowl, World War Three was just waiting around the corner. This was far worse than he had ever imagined.
“Of course. But it still puts us at odds.” He stared down Vane. “You have something I want. And if you aren’t going to give it to me, then I’ll have to take it.”
While they argued, Kristin carefully slipped the silver bracelet off her wrist, letting it pool into her palm. She waited a moment or two for her heart to stop beating so wildly, then took a deep breath, turned and slapped the coiled silver onto the back of Vane’s hand.
A pale wisp of smoke, ripe with the odor of burning flesh, curled from the contact. Vane shouted, his hand opening, momentarily releasing his hold on her. That was all it took. She bolted at the same time Dmitri rushed at Vane like a linebacker.
She glanced back over her shoulder. Though total opposites, the two were equally matched. Vane jumped upward, launching himself fifteen feet in the air to escape Dmitri’s charge. Kristin gasped as Dmitri coiled and sprang, grabbing Vane by the ankle and whipping him around like a leaf in a gust of wind.
Both stayed suspended in the air, like actors on flying wires. All Kristin could do was stare slack-jawed at the scene. There were no wires. Hell, there were no cranes. The two vampires were fifteen feet up, hanging above the sloshing water of Puget Sound as they circled each other. Several bystanders quickly joined the thickening crowd on the pier as both Vane and Dmitri snarled at each other, then sped together, fangs bared and weapons drawn.
Dmitri’s silver knife glinted in the moonlight. Vane pulled something shiny from the depths of his duster and threw it at Dmitri. It was going so fast it seemed to disappear completely, landing a second later with an audible thunk in the side of a building just inches from the head of a woman watching the fight. Kristin caught a glimpse of the sharp points of the ninja-style brass-colored throwing star protruding from the wood just before the woman fainted.
Dmitri barely had time to register that the mortal below him was unhurt before Vane came at him once more, another star already palmed in his hand. “You almost hit that woman,” he growled.
“If you’d only stay still then they wouldn’t be in any danger.”
Dmitri dived, the sound of the deadly orichalcum star buzzing past his ear in a hum so loud it vibrated in his skull. He stretched himself, shot upward and grabbed Vane by the wrist, wrenching it backward with a twist hard enough to break bones.
Vane howled and spun a kick, catching Dmitri in the side with the steel toe of his pointed boot. Dmitri grunted as pain blasted through his side. One broken rib, possibly two. He switched the knife to his other hand.
Come closer, you bastard. Let me see your pretty neck. He swung his blade at Vane, a speeding silver arc. It struck Vane’s flesh with a satisfying slice. Vane’s eyes, a pulsating blood red, glowed. “Lucky shot, brother.”
“I. Am. Not. Your. Brother.”
He heard the whizzing of the star an instant before it caught him in the bicep, shooting pain down his arm so intense he dropped his knife. Down below, the mortals screamed.
Vane twisted, his fangs gleaming long and white as he smiled, even as ichor dribbled in a thickening black patch from his chest. “I’ll have her one way or another. It’s just a matter of time.”
Dmitri roared, launching himself at Vane.
In a flash of light Vane vanished. A gasp rose from the crowd. For the first time, Dmitri really looked below at the people gathered. He telescoped his vision, searching for Kristin’s face among them. He found her, pale and sweating, but unharmed.
He couldn’t reach her to transport her with him back to the clan buildings. There were too many people, and they looked just as angry as those who had slain the seven people from his clan. He didn’t want to implicate her in any way and possibly put her in danger.
“Kill the vampires!” one shouted, shaking his fist at Dmitri, still out of reach
twenty feet above them. A screech of breaks and squealing tires were followed by the crunch of metal as two cars collided on the viaduct. Dmitri saw the faces of the drivers staring at him as he floated in midair, near level with the highway. Dammit.
Roman was going to have his head for this. Literally.
Chest lifted, Dmitri focused on his destination.
From below all the people saw was a puff of smoke and light, and a man who floated in midair disappear, like some Chriss Angel magic act. A collective gasp came from the crowd, followed by a growing chant. “Kill the vampires!”
Clearly they were freaked out by what they’d seen. Kristin couldn’t blame them. How often did you get two vampires battling out in the open, especially when you only found out vampires were real a few days before?
The sound of sirens filled the air as several police cruisers arrived at the edge of the crowd now spilling out into the main road along the waterfront.
A news van from one of the major television channels pulled up, a cameraman and reporter hopping out and doing a lightning-fast setup before the crowd vanished.
Kristin did her best to stay at the back edge of the crowd, sticking closer to the shadows of the buildings as she walked away from the scene. But a hand snaked around her wrist, yanking her close.
“Don’t say a word.” Bradley’s voice held a shimmer of fear.
“Afraid they’d turn on you?” She twisted to look into his shadowed face. “Look, I’ll help you get out of here if you let me go.”
His eyes glowed red in the shadows. “Why would you help me?”
“Let’s just say that unlike any of the vampires involved in this, or these idiots—” she nodded at the crowd “—I don’t have any interest in seeing anyone harmed.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
Kristin shrugged. “Of you? No. What scares me is how this is all going down the highway to hell.”
“So what’s your brilliant plan?” “Have you learned to transport yet?” Bradley smiled, and for the first time that day, it looked normal, just like his orthodontist had planned it. “That was one of the first things I tried to master.” “And?”
“I don’t have enough focus to make long distances, but I can do it.”
“Can you read thoughts yet?” “Sure.”
“Great. Then all you have to do is concentrate on what I’m thinking about and we should be able to transport out of here.”
“What are you, half vampire or something?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been doing some in-depth research.”
He snorted. “I bet.”
She smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand. “Come on, vamp boy. Focus.” Kristin closed her eyes and thought of the dance floor at Sangria.
The familiar pulling sensation of transporting centered in her gut. The music thumped and blared as the multicolored spotlights swiveled overhead. She wrenched her wrist out of Bradley’s grasp. “Welcome to Sangria. The local vampire hot spot.”
Bradley glanced around, beads of nervous perspiration dotting his brow. “But this is Cascade Clan.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “And if you behave yourself, nobody will care that you’re here, or that you’re a vampire. You look like you could use a drink.” She gave him a light push in the direction of the bar.
“That was well done of you. I would have just ripped his throat out.” The soft Italian lilt tickled her ear as Dmitri’s firm hands slid around her waist, making her stomach tighten and quiver.
“Stupidity is not a reason to kill someone. Any more than an overgrown ego.” She leaned back into his chest, letting him sway her hips against his to the music. Heat drenched her skin as she soaked up the sizzling sensation of his muscular form intimately pressed up against her. Maybe it was just the adrenaline or remaining ichor in her system talking, but she was definitely in the mood to listen.
“We found Zarah missing.”
“Vane admitted his group killed her. She disappeared in a fireball just like the others executed downtown. Only the brass spike was left.”
“Orichalcum. It’s what killed her.”
Kristin added that information to the growing list inside her head. “Dr. Al Kashir was his link inside the Cascade Clan. She was releasing ichor into the medical system.”
“And they were making a profit from it.”
“Exactly.”
“Poor Zarah, so intent on helping mortals that she couldn’t see how their greed might twist it.”
Kristin wiggled back against him. She didn’t want to think about Zarah now. Or Vane. Or any of this craziness she’d stumbled into. Right now all she wanted was to feel Dmitri.
The hard ridge of his erection pulsated against her butt, making her insides contract remembering the exquisite fullness and sensation he offered her. She wiggled against it just enough to elicit a hungry growl from him. “But that, that I might be tempted to kill for.” Her body grew damp at the feel of him so close and yet so far from where she wanted him most.
In an instant, a swirl of white mist wrapped around her as his arms did, and he turned her, pressing her breasts against his rock-hard chest. He lifted her against him, tilting her world so that there was nothing but the heat, the scent, the feel of him surrounding her. A moment later she regained a solid foothold and found herself wrapped around him in utter darkness. Not the cool black of a cave, but a warmer musty darkness that spoke of age and hidden secrets. She clung to him not caring where they were, only that she was with him.
His hands cupped the curve of her bottom, pressing her against him. Saints, the scent of her warm desire filled his nose, demanding a response.
Dmitri could see every delicious curve of her even in the deepest darkness. He traced her cheek, his fingers lingering as they trailed over the lush, wet softness of her mouth. She slid her tongue out, pulling his finger into her mouth.
A rocket of pleasure mixed with pain shot to his groin, throbbing and aching. Saints above! The cavern of her mouth was hot, wet and exquisite. His fangs extended, aching, fanning the hunger boiling up inside him. He pulled his finger out, fighting to maintain his composure, his focus, against a surging tide of hunger and desire. He’d brought her here for a reason.
“Where are we?”
He phased fresh linens and candles into the room for her. Then with a flourish of his hands, the flames leaped to life on each candle, throwing dancing shadows along the stone walls. “My ancestral home in Italy, or what’s left of it.”
He kept kissing her, indulging in the feel of her warm, pliant mouth as the room grew brighter until it was ablaze with light. Candles of all sizes and shapes covered every surface, crammed together on the stone window ledges, spread over a great wooden table dark with age—everywhere but the enormous bed with four posters that twisted upward to hold an arched red velvet canopy.
The sweet smell of warm beeswax mixed with dried lavender, reminding him briefly, with a bit of heartache, of a time long ago. A time when he could have loved her as a man rather than a monster. This had been his mortal home, the last place he’d lived happily before he’d been given to the church by his parents, before he’d become Larissa’s pawn.
He’d brought Kristin here, to this place, a place where he’d never brought another, to bond with her. He’d come so close to losing her twice now that he could think of nothing else. He crushed his mouth to hers, as if he could extract that element that made life possible from her kiss alone.
As she gazed up at him, her eyes reflected the flames like stars scattered across an endless blue sky. And he was lost in a swirl of time and space. Nothing else mattered but this woman. Her unique blend of spicy sweetness branded itself into his skin, filling him up and making his chest ache with the utter rightness of it.
He pulled back. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring,” he murmured.
She looked at him, her eyes bright with fevered need. “I don’t care. Just don’t stop kissing me.”
He captured
her slightly swollen lips, desire a hungry, clawing animal inside him. She responded, her mouth just as hungry, devouring him. Her tongue traced his fangs, first one, then the other, as her hand slid down his chest and over his stomach, grabbing his aching length with deliberate pressure. He growled, his fangs extended beyond mere desire, enough for him to feed the blood hunger spiraling up inside him.
He grabbed her about the waist, lifted her and took her to the bed. Grasping her hands from around his neck, he laid her back on the red velvet.
Her hair encircled her head in a golden halo, but a devilish delight lit her eyes. She reached down and began to unbutton her shirt from the bottom upward until it lay open, exposing the creamy swells of her breasts, cupped in black satin. Her fingers traced a path from her bra to her pants, and his gaze willingly followed. She slowly unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, revealing a scrap of black satin and lace that covered her silky damp curls.
He reached forward to rip the clothing off her.
She put up a warning finger. “No. No hands.”
Dmitri cocked a brow, then knelt and bit into her pants, his fangs popping straight through the material. She gasped, her eyes glowing with unabashed desire. She lifted her hips as he pulled the pants off with his mouth.
On the way back up, he grazed a path up along the inside of her calf and then her thigh, enjoying the tremble that shook her. Her panties were damp and he nuzzled her mons, making her groan. But her femoral artery, so close to his ear, throbbed. The rapid shush of her blood caused his body to contract with another kind of painful need.
He resisted it. Instead, his tongue brushed a warm, damp path down the inside of her thigh as his fingers skimmed the edge of her panties, slipping past to rasp against her sensitive flesh, making her groan and thrash. Her hips arched as he stroked and dipped, faster and deeper, until she shook.
The Truth about Vampires Page 19
