Demonstorm: Heart of a Vampire #6

by Kallyn, Amber

  Blood rushed to his groin, making him hard. It wasn’t often he woke with a woman in his bed.

  At once, everything hit. He jerked away, sitting up.

  Mayah rolled onto her back, moaning once more, still asleep. At least she no longer seemed unconscious.

  He took a blanket and draped it over her, brushing one of her many braids from her delicate face. Relaxed in sleep, her features were much more expressive than when she wore her statue-like mask.

  He clenched his fist at how fucking right cupping her ass had felt, how his body responded. He’d never been much interested in sex just for the sake of release. He’d figured out other, better options than a roll in the hay—or the back of his pickup truck.

  Yet right now, he was hard as stone, ready to take this woman.

  That would be the worst thing he could do. He wasn’t here for sex, or to make any type of emotional connection. And yet, the way his blood heated, he was damn glad she was asleep so he didn’t slip and ask her if she might be interested in a quick romp.

  These urges had to be from the constant adrenaline rush lately. Getting to her, fighting to free her and now being on the run, were taking a toll on his emotions and his senses. And most definitely on his libido. Not just his sex drive, but something more tender. Something that ached inside his chest.

  With a deep sigh, he leaned against the side of the bed, as far from Mayah as he could get, and tried with all his might to get back to sleep.

  * * *

  Mayah woke, alert like usual, only to find herself clinging to a jean-clad thigh doubling as her pillow. She slowly followed the muscled torso up until she met Sean’s disgruntled, exhausted gaze.

  Scrambling back, she mumbled, “Sorry.”

  What in the hells? How in the world had she let her guard down enough to get that close to this male?

  It made no sense. She never reacted like that. Never. And she vowed to keep herself under tighter control. She couldn’t afford to give him false ideas that would never come to pass.

  She scooted back, pulling a heavy blanket around her shoulders and looked around. They were in some dilapidated building. Through the roof, she could see the sky, streaked with oranges and purples.

  “Sunrise or sunset?” she asked.

  “Sunset.” His voice was strained, tense.

  “Did you get any sleep?” She peeked a glance at him, only to find him scowling.

  “Not really.” His eyes blazed with a black flecked crimson. He was a half-breed on the edge.

  “What’s wrong?” She sniffed the air, alert for any sign of impending danger.

  “Not. One. Damned. Thing.” His voice remained tight.

  She looked him over, but didn’t see anything amiss.

  “So what was all the screaming about earlier?” he demanded.

  She stiffened, the memory of her vision coming back. No way had she been kissing Sean. Her heart raced as she once more felt Sean’s body pressing against hers. Scarier than the thought of being touched was how she had responded, body and mind.

  Desire. Wanting more. Wanting this man.

  All thought stopped as the second vision hit, startling clear, as if she’d been sucked into seeing it once more. Cyrus and Sean, dying.

  Her own death.

  She’d never seen such a thing before.

  And something else was strange. It hadn’t felt like a normal vision, where she was a mere passenger watching pictures. But more like she’d actually been there.

  Feeling the agony of each bone breaking, the dizziness as Brüs took her last breath, squeezing her heart until it burst.

  She shuddered, biting her tongue against the hysteria rising up on a wave of nausea.

  “Nothing. Just a vision of a possible future,” she replied shakily.

  He raised a brow as his eyes flared a deeper red, and started rubbing the backs of his knuckles together. “We’re supposed to be working together. I can’t help you if you’re going to lie to me.”

  Taking a couple of deep breaths to calm her stomach and her nerves, she plastered on a smile. “My visions of the future are never set in stone. Any variation in what happens now can change them. I don’t like sharing such things.”

  “So the vision was about me.”

  She glanced away from the too-perceptive man, refusing to respond.

  “Since you’re up, we better be on our way.” He stood, grabbing the small pile of blankets he’d been using, and she realized he’d given her the majority of them.

  Yet another gallant gesture. He didn’t even seem to be aware of it, more like it was a natural part of him. Something inside her fluttered at how considerate he kept being. And in the pit of her stomach, something warmed, as once more she could feel Sean wrapping his arms around her as if to welcome her into him.

  “Don’t you need more sleep?” she asked softly, avoiding his gaze and trying to permanently forget everything about that vision, and how she’d been drawn to him, even in her sleep.

  “Can’t right now. Might as well drive on.”

  “At least eat first.” She finally met his gaze, worry gnawing at her from the bordering-crazed tiredness in his eyes.

  “Let’s go,” he said abruptly, jumping out of the back of the truck.

  Slowly, she gathered the blankets and handed them to him, then followed him to the front of the truck. “Where are we?”

  “Deserted barn. About an hour south-west of the place where we ate lunch. The waitress recognized you as a prophetess. I didn’t want to take any chances that she knows Brüs and decided to call him.”

  Smart of him. Unfortunately, thanks to her reaction to the vision, they’d had to backtrack out of their way. Every minute Cyrus remained in Brüs’s clutches, her brother’s death crept closer.

  She’d never considered her ability a blessing, just a part of who she was. But sometimes, it was more of a curse than others.

  Four hours later, it was pitch-black outside. Storm clouds had rolled in, hiding the moonlight. On the back roads and little travelled pathways, there were no lights of civilization.

  It was comforting.

  She’d been used to this for centuries, much longer than the invention of the light bulb had been around.

  “We’re near the US-Canada border. Shouldn’t run into any checkpoints or patrols,” Sean stated. “We’ll have to take some of it off road. May need the four-wheel drive. It’ll be bumpy.”

  “Okay,” she replied. It was only the second thing he’d said to her in the past hours. The first had been “Thanks”, when she’d handed him one of his bags of blood and a couple of sandwiches.

  She still wasn’t entirely sure why he seemed so upset. Lack of sleep, catching her in the lie. While those were logical explanations, she didn’t think they were right.

  He’d been silent, but every now and then she’d caught him glancing over at her, a strange light in his eyes.

  Now certainly wasn’t the time to ask.

  Especially not when he went over a ditch, the truck jumping and tossing her up out of her seat.

  “Put your belt on,” he commanded.

  She hurried to do so, then braced herself as he pushed the truck between two thick tree trunks, with maybe a hair of space between wood and metal. Branches scraped the sides, sounding like the screeching of nails on a chalk board. Her teeth ached as if she’d just bit down on aluminum foil.

  He went over another ditch and she bounced again, the seatbelt keeping her ass in the seat, but not stopping her from being knocked sideways into him.

  He growled, jerking the steering wheel to maneuver around a huge boulder. “You okay?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, her voice a bit breathless from the ride. “Just concentrate on not crashing.”

  He suddenly laughed, the sound loud and full-bodied. The vibrations of it slid over her skin, then dug deeper until she couldn’t contain her own chuckles. The tension between them disappeared.

  Soon they were bouncing through th
e forest, laughing like loons at each new approaching danger.

  For some reason, the laughter made her feel comforted. Lighter, as if her worries had flitted away for a little bit.

  They reached the peak of a steep hill, crested it. Sean slammed on his brakes, sliding to a stop only inches from the edge of a thousand foot drop-off.

  Laughter died as they stared into the abyss, then turned to glance at each other.

  She snorted, crazy with the giggles again.

  Sean silently shook his head as he reversed and turned the truck to drive along the side of the cliff. “Sorry.”

  She tried to contain herself, since this time, her humor was tinged with a bit of hysteria. He didn’t realize she wasn’t worried. At the moment, she wasn’t fated to die.

  Not yet.

  Not until she faced Brüs.

  Chapter Nine

  Sean woke as the sun rose in the distance. They were parked in a small clearing, surrounded by sheltering trees and thick clumps of bushes. This time, they’d slept in the cab of the truck. No way for her to constantly roll toward him, pressing herself along his body, keeping him awake with fantasies he was doing his damndest to repress and ignore.

  At least this time, after about six hours of sleep, his brain seemed to be working at full capacity again.

  Birds sang in the trees above them, a soothing melody helping him stay relaxed for the moment.

  From the cooler, he slipped out his last two bags of blood and drank them down, then started in on a few of the remaining sandwiches. They needed to push through this area and get to Alaska. He’d called home and gotten a list of blood suppliers. Good thing as his stock was nearly empty.

  He didn’t relish hunting down some forest animal to drink, like he’d been forced to do in the past. He especially didn’t want Mayah to see him in such a state. She was demon, not vampire. She wouldn’t understand.

  As if knowing he was thinking of her, she stirred. She rubbed her eyes, then blinked, smiling at him sleepily.

  His heart stuttered and his lungs quit working.

  Her look of complete innocence stunned him. Everything he was learning about her captivated him.

  He shoved the driver’s side clear of blankets and continued on. Today, Mayah seemed lighter. And a hell of a lot more talkative. She kept up a constant stream of chatter, drawing him into discussions he found himself enjoying.

  She spoke of her family, her brothers. Her voice was soft, full of love for them.

  “Is Cyrus older or younger than you?” he eventually asked, curious about her family, and demons in general.

  “Technically, I’m the youngest, but my two brothers and I were born at the same time.”

  “You’re triplets,” he said, surprised.

  She laughed lightly, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “Demons usually become pregnant with multiple babies. It’s part of why most don’t survive childbirth. It takes a great love to even try to have children.”

  Her words startled him. Yet another thing he didn’t know about half of himself. The words slipped out before he could stop them. “Tell me about demons.”

  Her eyes widened, and she smiled, launching into a lesson. “Well, I assume you know that unlike vampires, sunlight doesn’t weaken us. You’ve been fine this whole time.”

  He nodded. “To a point. I feel the vampire weakness during the day, just not as much as others do.”

  “Interesting. Another difference is that vampires need blood to retain their humanity. Demons, on the other hand, fall into a bloodlust if they drink it.”

  He glanced at her. “I’ve never heard that.”

  “Most believe that’s why half-breeds go crazed. Blood is something a part of them needs to survive, but it turns their other half to destruction.” She scooted sideways in her seat to look at him fully. “If your mom’s a vampire, is your father a demon?”

  “No. They’re both vampires.”

  She spoke slow, soft, as if unsure she was treading in dangerous waters. “Then how did you become a half-breed?”

  With a silent sigh, he tried to sum it up short and quick. “A demon captured and imprisoned my mom right after she was bitten. She was pregnant with me at the time.” He shot Mayah a glance to gauge her reaction, but she was wearing her mask once more.

  “He did some strange things. Using magic, he didn’t allow my mom to give birth for years so that he could ‘experiment’.” The last word left a bitter taste in Sean’s mouth. “Eventually he somehow infused part of his demon essence inside me. When I was born, I aged like a demon child. When I hit a century the guy figured I’d go crazy. I didn’t.”

  “How did you escape?” she whispered.

  “Long story.” He shrugged. “The silver lining is that I’m good at running without being caught.”

  She tried to smile, but it wobbled.

  “Hey, it’s fine. I’ve come to terms with my past. It doesn’t affect me anymore.”

  “Is that ever truly possible?” she asked, twirling one of her long, many-colored braids around her finger.

  “Yeah. It is. A lot of hard work, but it’s possible.”

  She sighed, still playing with her hair, as she sat back in her seat. “Why don’t you use your demon magic?”

  He’d avoided answering her before, and he almost did again. But she was keeping things from him. Maybe, if he opened up a little, she’d share her own secrets. “I can’t control it.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  “A little. But it’s…”

  “Scary?” she supplied.

  “Maybe,” he stated, ashamed at being afraid of something that was a deep part of himself. “Every time I try to use any of my magic, demon or Fey, it’s like the demon part of me starts thrashing and clawing to get out. I feel dark urges, to kill, to drink blood—not as a vampire, but as a monster.”

  The truck hit a bump. He turned the wheel to avoid a nearby boulder and a branch scraped alongside the door. Mayah let out a small squeak at the grating sound.

  After a few long minutes of silence, she said, slowly, “I have seen demons and vampires alike who have given into their blood lust. They have lost any semblance of humanity. All conscience. Morality. They became nothing more than animals running on the instinct to kill, feed and survive.”

  He thought about some of his worst nightmares, turning into such a thing, just like the demon sorcerer had assured him would eventually happen—assured him repeatedly during the centuries Sean had been chained in his dungeon. “Has anyone ever come back from such a state?”

  “Not that I know of. Your Magic Council tends to kill them quickly, before they spread too much damage. I don’t know if one of them would even want to. They seem to truly enjoy what they become.”

  Chills skittered along his spine.

  As the trees began to clear, he let out a sigh of relief and gladly changed the topic. “Welcome to Alaska,” he said.

  She forced the idea of animalistic beasts right back in his mind as she replied, “Brüs keeps soulless creatures—vampires, shifters and demons—as hunting dogs.”

  Lovely. And they were willingly heading into his trap? How many more surprises would come up?

  Another chill hit him, like some nameless, indefinable premonition of dread.

  * * *

  Mayah studied Sean imperceptibly as he turned onto a highway and headed for a town he’d been told could replenish his blood supply. She realized he’d been drinking at times she wasn’t watching. It startled her that he must have been able to read her hesitation, and slight revulsion, at the sight.

  She knew he needed it. But watching him actually do it was another thing. She’d been brought up with her father warning her of all the deprivations demons had done while in the bloodlust. He’d reminded her again and again to never give in to such urges. She hadn’t.

  Never would.

  They hit town and Sean made quick work of restocking, including a few bags of canned and dehydrated food, in addition
to water and his blood.

  Soon, they were on the road once more, headed north to Brüs’s fortress.

  And her brother.

  She worried about Cyrus, not knowing if at this very moment he was being tortured. She absolutely refused to consider the thought that anything worse might be happening, and instead, embraced her most recent vision of him, fighting alongside her and Sean.

  She’d just have to make sure she prevented their deaths. She couldn’t believe anything other than it would be possible to stop.

  Twirling her hair around her finger, she watched the landscape. She’d never been anywhere in this realm, having spent so much time locked within Brüs’s castles. But she’d heard of Alaska. A wild, cold place.

  Instead, fields of grass and wildflowers stretched out on both sides of the highway.

  “Where’s all the snow?” she asked.

  Sean glanced over before returning his attention to the long, winding road. “It’s nearly summer. In these lower places, the snow melts.” He nudged the map he’d picked up at the last gas station. “Where we’re going, it’s colder. And once we hit the higher mountains, you’ll get your snow.”

  Something rammed into the back of the truck. The seat belt jerked painfully into her ribs as her head slammed against the dashboard.

  Dazed, she glanced up, only to see the world outside spinning around and around.

  “Son of a bitch,” Sean yelled, struggling with the out-of-control steering wheel.

  The truck jerked to a stop along the side of the road. Voices shouted, car doors banged as whoever hit them rushed to exit their vehicle.

  The scent of demon, of hell fire, filled the air. So did the stench always carried by those working with Brüs—blood, decay, death.

  His men had found them.

  She ripped her seatbelt off and grabbed her golden box, then shimmied on her battle gloves.

  Beside her, Sean was already drawing his two thin swords from the sheaths laying on the back seat. He glanced at her, opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and pushed out of the car. She knew he’d been about to tell her to stay inside.

  Lucky for him he’d stopped himself.

  Jumping out of her side of the truck, she faced three men. One a towering, humanish demon. Two other men who smelled like shifters.