by Hughes, Mary
Mawkish or not, it rang deep inside. Me and Dragan, falling into each other’s eyes, falling in love… I shook it off. “Look, even if Dragan and I meet the criteria of phase one, we hang up in phase two. Sure, he’s attracted to me, but I haven’t noticed him bathing in my scent.” Although he did rub against my skin a lot.
“Perhaps.”
“And even if he does seem to want to go to bed with me a lot, he isn’t one-and-only attracted.”
“Ah.”
The gentle disbelief in Elias’s tone irritated me. “And even if he was one-and-only attracted, he seems to think he doesn’t deserve me. He’s done things in his past he feels he can’t ever live down.” We were quite the pair if neither of us thought we were worthy.
“He’s not beyond redemption,” Elias said. “He’s serious about his music, and faithful in his business dealings. His word is good, Ms. Hrbek. That’s not to be discounted lightly.”
“I suppose.” He was true to promises he made too, like the boy Jakub. Then I remembered Elias was usually helpful for a price. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re not locked in. As a mentally immune female you could mate any vampire who is strongly attracted to you.”
“Who did you have in mind…oh no.” I sucked in a breath as I remembered. The megavamp, staring at me, mouthing “mine”. “That’s not what my friends said. They said it was one-to-one.”
“They haven’t my experience. While it’s rare, occasionally a female will attract more than one male. Then she is the one who decides who she will mate with—although once she decides, both she and her mate are locked in.”
The Soul Stealer wanted to mate with me. I made the mental jump that Elias suspected the megavamp’s Achilles heel was me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is this because you don’t like Dragan?” At his single arched brow I added, “Dragan told me you two don’t get along because you’re trying to keep vampires secret because you’re afraid.”
Elias spread his hands. “We were hunted almost to extinction when humans were savage and superstitious. Now with their science and their guns? Is it fear to be cautious, or wisdom?”
“Why don’t you just stop Dragan from conducting then?”
He folded his hands before him. “Zajicek has the potential to redeem himself. I still hope he will decide himself to stop putting us all at risk.”
“Can you afford to wait?”
“Can I afford not to? As that great German philosopher Queen Elizabeth I said, ‘Never decide today what may resolve itself tomorrow.’”
“Hey. You’ve been talking to my mom.” I smiled.
Amusement twinkled briefly in his dark eyes.
It faded. My smile died. He waited. I took a deep breath. “I think the megavamp is attracted to me.”
“Yes.”
“If we were mates…could I stop him from hurting my friends?”
Elias’s eyes stayed steady on me. “Your mate would do anything to make you happy.”
I nearly decided then. But the dregs of my fuzzed-out memories said Elias was stingy sharing his information. “That didn’t really answer my question, did it? What aren’t you telling me?”
He nodded as if I’d passed some sort of test. “Gravloth’s insane, Ms. Hrbek. And you’re only human. With an ancient’s power without an ancient’s restraint, he will swallow you up. Possess you utterly, body and soul. You could protect your friends but only for as long as you kept your cognitive self intact. Which might be weeks or only days.”
I trembled. My friends would be safe only as long as I stayed sane. “Long enough for your Alliance to destroy him?”
“Possibly. Certainly, as his mate, he’d follow you anywhere, including out into the midday sunshine. But, Ms. Hrbek, I must be frank. When a vampire’s mate dies, the vampire dies also. We don’t have data on the reverse but I suspect it’s also true.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I’d die but my friends and family would be safe. I stood. “I need to go back to Chicago.”
Elias studied me. “Not every choice is black or white. Are you certain you’ve made the right one?”
“As sure as I can be.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Dragan Zajicek paced Raquel’s living room, gnome and bunny eyes following him every step. He found their stares not creepy, but comforting.
A sure sign something was wrong with him.
He’d helped Steel get the vans away then joined the blond vampire in an attempt to rescue Rounin.
They’d found what was left of the samurai’s corpse in the stairwell. The stairs ran with his blood. His head was missing.
But the stairs ran with the stench of the Soul Stealer’s blood as well. The monster himself was gone.
The number of limbs in the stairwell—six arms and two legs—eloquently told how vicious the fight was. Two of the arms and the legs were Rounin’s. Four of the arms were the Soul Stealer’s, apparently regenerated twice. The Soul Stealer’s bones would have been too dense to chop, even for Rounin’s wickedly sharp blades. But the arms had been torn whole from their sockets, attesting to the ferocity of the samurai’s vengeance.
Dragan had helped Steel perform the ritual of sending Rounin back into the day. By then Sissy had returned and the three of them closed up Steel’s home. Only key households would remain staffed in the activated Shield.
They returned to Meiers Corners where Steel and Sissy joined Strongwell in his fortified home, augmenting his defenses. Emerson, recovering slowly from his evisceration, was there too.
Dragan came here, to Raquel’s home, without understanding completely why. He didn’t know what was going on inside himself. Despite centuries of sexual experience, he’d made love to her as eagerly as a raw boy, then fled to her home simply for another whiff of her scent.
Yes, something was deeply wrong with him.
He misted through the front door. Not only her smell, but her very taste filled the air. Pain hit him so hard he staggered.
In a blinding flash he knew exactly what was wrong with him. He’d nearly lost her, twice, to the Soul Stealer. Now he had lost her, gone to Iowa. He felt as if his chest had been hollowed out worse than Emerson’s.
It had finally happened. The unrestrained seducer, the untouchable conductor.
His heart was engaged.
A second fist hit his belly. More than his loss had hit him, misting through the door. Luke Steel had smashed a fist in Dragan’s chest the instant he formed.
“Pax.” Dragan coughed it because he was either laughing or crying. “I bring news.”
“I know,” Luke said shortly. “Logan called. He gave me an update and ordered me to Strongwell’s. I was about to get Rocky’s mom and go when I smelled vampire. You.”
“Where is the engaging Mrs. Hrbek?”
“In the bedroom. I erased her memory of the attack but it took some doing. Meiers Corners women are damned strong minded. She needed time to recover and I thought she’d do it better alone, instead of seeing someone who reminded her of the trauma.” He glanced at the closed bedroom door. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad you’re here. Now she can take the time she needs.” He sliced narrowed eyes back to Dragan. “You are staying, right?”
“Yes, all right. Although are you sure she’s in there? I don’t smell her.”
“Where else would she be? I’d better get going. It’ll be dawn soon.”
Steel left. Dragan paced, his only company the ceramic creatures that were strangely comforting, and that closed bedroom door. He should have investigated, made sure Mrs. Hrbek was all right, but he was still in shock over it.
He’d fallen in love with a human. With Raquel.
A thousand plus years of sexual conquests, and the one that eclipsed them all was a shy little human with an intriguing streak of bold.
At that point he nearly spun on his heel and shapeshifted to hawk, to fly all the way to Iowa.
He paused. Reluctantly he let go o
f his hawk and snapped back into human shape.
Following her to Iowa would trigger a confrontation with Elias that neither of them were ready to have, but from which neither could back down.
Besides, he needed to protect Raquel’s mother. He had to stay here, for now.
He’d have to do something about Raquel though. His instincts, his heart, his very being demanded it. He kicked into pacing again.
But what? Go somewhere safe and call her to him? They’d make love again. His fangs elongated with the thought. He licked one and shuddered at the violent need coursing through him. He’d take her hard, filling her with his thrusts, biting her, and she’d fill him with her sweet essence until he possessed her—
Oh God. His heart was black. He grabbed his forehead. She deserved so much better than him. She deserved someone good, golden. Like…Luke Steel. The blond reminded him of an angel—a tortured angel, but an angel nonetheless. He’d be good enough for Raquel. Almost.
Dragan dropped his hand. All right. He’d do it. When she returned, he’d sacrifice his deep desire for her and give her to Steel.
Pain sliced Dragan, his heart burning angrily in the shell of his chest. He collapsed into a chair, gasping. Damn it, it was the right thing to do, but it hurt like hell.
He wanted, with his whole black heart, to do the wrong thing. He wanted to keep her for himself.
His claws punched holes in the chair’s upholstered arms. He clenched his eyes and focused on breathing. When he gained control he opened his eyes.
Giving her to Steel would be hard, the hardest thing he’d ever done in his centuries of dissolution. But it was right.
Good. Decision made. He pulled out his phone to let Enkidu know about the latest development with the Soul Stealer, but only held the phone in his hand, staring at it.
Decision made…except for the boy Dragan had been, who was weeping inside.
I borrowed one of Elias’s fleet of cars and returned to Meiers Corners. As I drove, I went over my plan again. Mating the megavamp…though it made my stomach twist in sick knots, it really seemed like the only way.
But it was hard as I motored into Meiers Corners not to track down Dragan, to give him a chance to talk me out of it. So hard that I determined to avoid Dragan at all costs.
That pie-flinging monster Fate took up the dare.
I opened the door of my flat. Dragan leaped up from a chair, arms open wide, primed to sweep me into a bone-crushing hug and soul-searing kiss. I automatically flung my own arms wide.
We ran toward each other, the moment singing with possibilities—
My friends’ lives were at stake. I flinched.
He stopped mid-stride. The stark horror on his face was gut wrenching. He stepped back, hands jerking up. “What was I thinking? You’ve finally come to your senses and seen me as I really am.”
My heart broke. “No, it’s not that.”
“You’re being kind. You should not have returned. It’s mortally dangerous. The Soul Stealer is aware of you.”
“I know. I had an idea.” I told him what Elias had said. “It’s Gravloth’s Achilles heel. If I mate with him I might be able to lead him into the sun. Or at least keep him from destroying us, hopefully for as long as it takes for the Alliance to destroy him.”
Dragan growled, “Never. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself to that monster.”
My heart leaped. Though I wanted to be noble, it wanted Dragan to claim me, to commit to me.
“You deserve so much better. You deserve someone good. Someone pure of heart. Not a vampire who’s done terrible things. Not a blackened soul like m…like Gravloth.”
Like me. He almost named himself instead of Gravloth.
I wept for him. Dragan felt himself as monstrous as the Soul Stealer, irredeemable, when even his worst enemies like Elias saw the good in him. “Dragan—”
“No.” He turned away from me, hands deep in his pockets. “You deserve so much better than being tied to a soulless monster for the rest of your days.”
“You’re not a monster.”
His head jerked around. Hope flickered in his eyes…then he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t let you mate Gravloth either.”
“If it’s the only way to save my friends? I have to.” I stared at his broad back. In another time, another place, we might have had something together. But here, now, I had to mate an insane monster.
And lose Dragan forever.
Dragan smelled salt. He turned and was horrified to see Raquel’s beautiful blue eyes filled with tears—and such longing for him that an overwhelming need to grab her and crush her to him pushed him a step in her direction.
He spun away before he could make that terrible mistake. He wanted to claim her so badly his blood boiled with it. As pure and good as she was, she might even manage to redeem him…but he’d already decided to do what was right for her, not for him.
The house phone rang.
She hiccupped a little sob and shuddered a few breaths, obviously trying to regain control. The phone rang again. She skimmed past him to answer, stirring the air. Her light, feminine scent filled his lungs. Her heat caressed him; even the electric charge on her skin called to him.
He closed his eyes and for those few moments lived in complete awareness of her. “Raquel,” he breathed. He reached out for her…
“Dragan?” Her tone was so hopeful it broke what was left of his heart.
His eyes opened. She gazed at him, one hand on the phone. Her soft blue eyes were big pools in which he could happily drown.
He tried to say something, anything, to make her understand. What came out was, “You will not engage the Soul Stealer. I will not allow it. You will stay here and I will take care of things.”
Then, before he grabbed her and tossed her onto the nearest flat surface and pounded himself into her for the rest of eternity, he threw open the door and strode out into the daylight.
The sun flared like fire in his eyes. He shut his lids, dug his hands in his pockets and kept his head down as he stalked off. Though it hurt, in reality the late morning October sun was weak and he was old enough that he wouldn’t burn immediately.
He walked twice around the block, until his blood was starting to boil from the sun instead of the need to take Raquel and never let her go. He figured he had ten more minutes before he’d go up in flames. He looked around. He ought to find an empty house somewhere, or sneak into someone’s basement. He ought to dig himself a hole in the ground. Little fires broke out on his flesh.
He returned to Raquel’s home.
Cursing himself for a fool, he opened the door and dashed in. Yet even as he berated himself his spirits raised in anticipation of seeing her, smelling her, touching her. He shut the door and breathed deep.
The house was empty.
He ran from room to room, but he knew she was gone. He could smell it. Even the bedroom, where her mother’s scent lingered, was empty.
He stood there, his brain refusing to work. Adrenaline pumped acid that ate at him. Find her.
She wasn’t inside. That meant…that meant she’d gone out.
He was at the door instantly, threw it open and took one step outside. He hadn’t had enough time to cool.
His face burst into flame.
Slapping his burning flesh, he ran into the kitchen. He cranked on the cold water and thrust his head under the stream. Running water hurt like needles thrust into his skin, but it was better than burning.
When the fire was out and his temperature had gone down, he shut off the water. Dripping, he returned to the front room and kicked the door closed with his foot.
She’d gone out, and he couldn’t follow her. He closed his eyes and reached for her essence…his eyes snapped open on a growl. She was beyond the range of blood-locating. It frustrated the hell out of him. The longer he waited, the colder her physical trail would get.
Unless he could find where she’d gone some other way. The phone had been ringing be
fore he’d left. Had she answered? Had she gone because of it?
He misted to the phone, hoping for a pad of paper, top sheet hastily ripped off with dents revealing her intentions.
A single piece lay there. He picked it up. Ten parallel lines slashed across the page, dots on and within them. The dots had no stems, and the lines weren’t grouped but he recognized it immediately as a grand staff, the full range of the piano.
His heart thudded in his chest. It was a message from Raquel to him.
He read it eagerly. The notes were C-B-C-A-G, followed by Cs in several different octaves.
Cbcag? Cs, meaning Seas…or seize? It made no sense to him.
Even as he puzzled over the paper, he suddenly thought to wonder—where was Raquel’s mother?
I stared at the door where Dragan had disappeared. He’d underlined there was no us by running away.
My throat thickened and my brimming eyes overflowed.
The phone’s jangle ripped my raw nerves to shreds. I grabbed the handset and barked, “Hello.”
“Rocky? Wonderful news! I got an art commission.”
“Mom? Where are you?” Her voice pulled me back from the brink. I swiped my wet cheeks, took a deep breath and listened.
“I’m with my new client.” Her voice muffled as if she was shielding her mouth with a hand. “He’s rich.”
“It’s about time someone recognized your talent.” But even as I congratulated her, my stomach was churning. Something was off.
“He wants to talk with you.”
The churning dropped into my legs. The strength left them and I collapsed onto a nearby chair. “Mom, wait—”
“Hello, Rocky Hrbek.”
The voice was dry and raspy, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of it—or all the life had been siphoned off.
I clutched the handset tighter. “Who is this?”
“Your mother’s new client. Arnaud Nosferatu. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
“Yes,” I whispered. Head of CIC where I worked, and the evil man behind the monster, Gravloth. “Let me speak to my mother.”
