A thin figure picked his way gingerly down the lawn, toward the hedge maze. I recognized that profile.
“Clarence?” I called out. My voice echoed back at me in the cool air, and I gasped.
He squinted, then straightened quickly as recognition dawned on him. “Doc?”
My heart in my throat, I watched the old man scurry across the grass. The last thing I wanted was for him to break his hip. “Be careful!”
“Be careful,” he mocked. “You’re a damn fool, coming back here. They told me you were dead!”
From the pocket of his neatly pressed trousers, he produced a key ring covered with antique keys. After much muttering, he selected one and slipped it into the gate’s lock. Instead of crumbling to dust, it actually swung inward with a minimum of screeching. A few leaves from the clinging ivy pulled off, but no one would notice the gate had moved in a hundred years.
“Get your ass in here,” he scolded, glancing nervously up at the house. “Now, you got some explaining to do. Did you eat that boy?”
“What? No!” I said, a little too loudly.
Clarence shushed me. “Keep your voice down. The master’s home, and he’s been in a real bad mood since his daddy left.”
“I thought the Soul Eater couldn’t survive without his annual feeding?”
“Ain’t nothing going to kill that bastard. Believe me, this isn’t the first time somebody tried.” Clarence shook his head. “What happened to the boy?”
“Cyrus killed him.” I thought of the barrels in the basement and what Clarence had told me. “What did you do with him?”
“I didn’t do anything with him. I had the night off. They probably burned him with the rest of them.”
At least he wasn’t crammed in some barrel. I pointed to the house. “Where’s Cyrus?”
“In the study. He’s been there since the night of the party, trying to avoid her.” His last statement was delivered in an accusing tone.
“Her? Dahlia survived?”
Clarence’s face scrunched in an almost comical expression of disapproval. “Seems somebody told her she should find herself a vampire to turn her at the party.”
I ground my teeth. It would be one thing to fight Cyrus, but Dahlia was way out of my league. “What about the guards?”
“They’re trying to steer clear of Dahlia and the Master, but they’ll find you if you go in there.” He squinted at me. “You got backup coming, right?”
“No. I might as well stake myself right here on the lawn,” I muttered, looking up at the looming facade of the house.
“I got one in my back pocket,” Clarence offered. “This is gonna be ugly, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “You might want to get out of here.”
“No, when he’s gone, someone’s got to tidy things up around here,” he said with a sad smile.
“You don’t have to stay. I’ve got friends, we could help you get a condo in Florida or something. Anywhere you want.”
“I ain’t going nowhere.” He made a halfhearted shooing motion with his hands. “I told you before. I come with the house. You give him hell, Doc.”
I wanted to hug him, but I wouldn’t ask him to lower himself to hug a vampire. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t jump at the chance for freedom. I also couldn’t understand the strange compulsion people had to stay in their homes to face hurricanes and floods rather than evacuate. Fear of change, maybe. Or denial of their mortality. Whatever the reason, Clarence seemed to share their stay-put mentality, and I knew I wouldn’t change his mind. I made him promise to stay near the guardhouse and not show his face until morning. I watched until he disappeared into the maze. Then I headed up to the house.
After spending weeks in close quarters with the Fangs and Cyrus’s human groupies, the house felt downright empty. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten around to replacing the numerous pets he’d expended for the feast.
The guards were there, though. The second I opened the French doors to the foyer, all hell broke loose.
Two bodyguards waited for me in the center of the room. No doubt they’d watched me as I spoke to Clarence on the lawn, because reinforcements—a lot of them—jogged down the staircase. Behind me, the front doors flew open.
I whirled to see Nathan and Max framed in the wide doorway. Relief and dread crashed through me. I’m saved, I thought. Then I thought, We’re all dead.
“Don’t put on the coffee, we’re not staying long,” Max announced with a wide smile.
“Get out of here, Nathan,” I screamed as the first guard reached me. His hands crushed my shoulders. I grasped his forearms and fell backward, flipping him over my body as another guard came at me. I sprang to my feet and elbowed the next contender hard in the face. Blood spurted from between his fingers as he covered his broken nose. I punched him in the groin. When he doubled over I grabbed his shoulders and rammed the top of his head into my knee. He dropped limply to the floor.
I looked to Max and Nathan. Max had knocked out one guard and used a stun gun to put down another. Nathan was cornered by an opponent brandishing a stake. He tried to dodge it, but the blow landed the wooden spike in his shoulder.
“No!” I charged forward. Another set of hands closed on me. In my haste to get to Nathan, I gave a hard shove and sent the man flying into the wall. He crumpled like a rag doll.
I reached Nathan’s side as he pulled the stake free and a torrent of blood spilled out. The guard pulled another stake from his belt and lunged, but not before I caught him. I bared my fangs before I realized I’d changed. If Nathan hadn’t called to me, I would have bitten into the man’s neck.
“Why not let her?”
Max and Nathan froze at the voice. I let go of the guard and turned.
Cyrus strode from the open doors of the study. His hair was half tied back in a disheveled braid, and his fur-lined robe seemed to swallow him up. Dark hollows beneath his eyes marred his pale complexion. He looked like he hadn’t slept or fed in days.
“You’ve never had the chance to see her feed, have you, Nolen?” He smiled sadly. “It’s something every sire should experience.”
Arms gripped me from behind at the same time I saw guards grab Nathan and Max. I tensed, prepared to fight, but I felt the point of a stake against my breastbone.
My gaze met Nathan’s and I heard his voice in my head. Don’t move.
Max turned his face to look at Nathan. “What the hell is he talking about?”
Cyrus crossed to me, stroking the side of my face gently with the back of his hand. With the blood tie between us dead, I felt nothing but revulsion.
His eyes, one gold-flecked green, the other his own, icy blue, turned cold and hollow. “It really is over, then.”
Howling in outrage, like a child whose mischief had been thwarted, he pounded his thighs with his fists. He rounded on Nathan. “Why? Why did you take her from me?”
“I’d like to know that myself,” Max said through clenched teeth.
Oh, God, don’t let him turn on us. I didn’t know Max well enough to tell if he’d report Nathan’s indiscretion to the Movement, or if he’d just be disgusted enough to abandon this mission.
Nathan sent me a comforting thought. Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’s not going anywhere. We’re going to get out of this.
“You’ve got no one to blame but yourself, Cyrus.” Nathan nodded in my direction. “You killed her in that alley. My blood restored her. Finders keepers.”
Just as he finished his sentence, Cyrus struck him. Nathan’s head snapped back and blood seeped from his nose. For a moment, I feared he would lose consciousness.
Cyrus shook his wrist, a pained look on his face. For hands so accustomed to violence, they were awfully delicate. “Finders keepers? Like the way I found your cast-off child and made him my own?”
Nathan struggled to break free, and would have managed, if four other guards hadn’t rushed in to hold him. Vampires are strong, but not that strong.
One of the sentries brou
ght his knee up hard between Nathan’s legs. He doubled over with a grunt of pain.
“Cyrus, please, tell them to stop!” I cried.
My former sire snapped his fingers to the guard restraining me, and the stake at my chest pierced my skin.
Nathan stopped struggling immediately. Rather than panicking, he laughed. “Cyrus, you know staking her isn’t going to do anything.”
“Won’t it?”
The wood pressed deeper, digging into my flesh. While it wouldn’t cause me to ash-out and burst into flame, a wound to my remaining heart probably wasn’t something to sneeze at. “Stop, please!”
Don’t beg him, Carrie. I can’t stand to hear you beg. Nathan’s eyes were distraught. I looked away.
“Cyrus, knock it off,” he growled. “Look, I’m playing nice.”
“That’s noble of you.” Cyrus waved away the sentry that held me. “It’s so nice that you’d defend her after what she did to your son.”
Nathan shook his head. “Not going to work, Cyrus. I’m her sire now. I can see—”
I tried to hold back my memories from the night I’d fed from Ziggy, but in my panic, they overwhelmed me. They were powerfully vivid and painfully erotic. And I couldn’t hide them from Nathan.
His anger swelled, but no more than I’d expected. I wanted to tell you, I thought firmly, but he didn’t answer. Nathan purposely ignored the blood tie, and after decades of shutting out the Soul Eater, he’d perfected his technique. My thoughts bounced off him like tennis balls against a brick wall.
But he didn’t show any outward sign of my betrayal. “She told me everything. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I really wish someone would have told me everything,” Max snarled. “I’m probably gonna get marked for death just for breathing the same air as all of you. I don’t know what’s going on here, but this is fucked up!”
A frown creased Cyrus’s brow. “Kill that one.”
“No!” Nathan and I shouted at the same time. I felt some of his rage toward me ebb, like a stone lifting off my chest.
“Oh, you’re going to bargain with me now? The two of you?” He laughed. “You should both know better.”
More guards rushed into the room. In groups of ten, one group for each of us, they bound our hands behind our backs.
“Take him to Dahlia’s room,” Cyrus said, gesturing to Max. “The other two can join me in the study.”
“We’ll reconvene after,” Nathan called to Max.
As if they were simply parting to spend their lunch hours in different restaurants, Max shouted back, “Sure thing. Get in a few good hits for me.” Then, to the guards I heard him ask, “So, this Dahlia, is she eighteen?”
Half the guards following us remained outside and flanked the door at Cyrus’s request. That still left us with ten on the inside, far too many for me, an inexperienced fighter, and Nathan, with his wounded shoulder, to take on alone.
“Afraid of me, Cyrus?” Nathan sniped as the doors closed behind us.
I eventually gave up trying to unbind my wrists. I could barely get the tags off a pair of new shoes. What were the chances I’d manage to Houdini my way out of a plastic zip tie?
The only light in the room came from the fireplace. I saw the elegant shape of Cyrus’s profile against the flames.
He didn’t look at us. “So it’s come to this. You’re here to take my life, when you’ve taken everything else from me.”
What was he talking about? “I haven’t taken anything from—”
“He’s talking to me,” Nathan said, his gaze fixed on Cyrus. “I’m not going to apologize for anything. You reap what you’ve sown.”
“What I’ve sown?” Cyrus whirled around, his ruthless eyes shining in the firelight. “I’ve only done what every fledgling is bound to do by the blood tie. I’ve been loyal to my sire!”
Nathan laughed bitterly. “Don’t use that tired excuse again! We have the same sire. I didn’t lose my free will when he poured his blood down my throat!”
“The very thing I’ve been trying to convince you of for years!” Cyrus shouted at him, then turned to me. “I hope you will keep that in mind, Carrie, when considering what happened to his wife.”
I glared at him but remained silent.
He circled us menacingly, like a shark in a feeding frenzy. “Did Nolen ever tell you what he did to his wife?”
“No.” I couldn’t look at Nathan. “But I know.”
“Carrie?” Nathan’s shock resonated through me.
Max told me. I wished I could reach for Nathan’s hand. Something told me he wouldn’t have taken it, though.
Cyrus leaned close to my ear. “I doubt you know the whole story.”
He moved away suddenly, motioning to the sofa as though Nathan and I were dinner party guests who’d arrived unfashionably early. “Please, have a seat. I’ll tell you all about it.”
Nathan lunged forward. I had no idea what he’d planned to do without the use of his hands, but it didn’t matter. Two guards grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him backward.
Although his back was turned, Cyrus lifted his hand in warning. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. There’s no possible way you’ll survive, and then who will protect your fledgling?”
He turned and pointed a taloned finger directly at me. “Believe me, I won’t hesitate to kill her once you’re gone.”
“What’s stopping you right now?” Nathan asked.
He didn’t mean that. As angry as I knew he was that I’d fed from Ziggy, he wouldn’t let Cyrus kill me. He was fishing for information.
Cyrus paused. “Nothing, I suppose. But it would be a shame to waste such a fun ride.”
Nathan clenched his jaw at that.
“Oh, I see I hit a nerve. Tell me, Nolen, are you offended because you share that opinion, or because you have no frame of reference?”
“What I was getting at, dick, was why didn’t you kill her in the alley? I don’t think you’ll do it.”
I should have known something nasty was coming when Cyrus smiled. He walked up to Nathan and struck him so hard that I heard the bones of his face crack. Nathan’s head swiveled to the side, twisting his body as he fell.
Cyrus rounded on me, his eyes furious. “I suppose you think you’ll be spared? Saved by some lingering feelings I harbor for you?”
I nodded. “If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already.”
He slapped me. “I no longer owe you my patience. I’d rip your throat out now, but I wouldn’t want the taste of his blood on my mouth.”
Kicking Nathan aside, he pointed to the sofa. “Sit.”
I did as I was told to avoid inflicting any further pain on myself or Nathan, on the off chance he wasn’t dead.
Seating himself in the wing chair facing me, Cyrus folded his hands in his lap. I noticed for the first time how fragile and bony his fingers looked. I wanted to snap them one by one. Or crush them with a hammer.
One of the advantages of no longer being his fledgling was my ability to think freely without him reading my every intent. Though I no longer had to block him from my mind, I’d never been able to disguise the emotions on my face. A slow smile widened his mouth as he watched me.
“You hate me, don’t you?” It was a straightforward question, and harbored none of the sadness I remembered from our time together, when he’d asked me if I loved him.
I squeezed my hands into fists. “Does it matter? You say you’re going to kill me, anyway.”
Chuckling, he reached for something on the marble table beside him. “No, Carrie. I must concede. I was never planning to kill you.”
The object he’d reached for was a sleek, lacquered box. It reminded me of the boxes Nathan sold in the shop to hold tarot cards and crystals, except this one looked much more expensive and was fitted with an ornate lock.
Cyrus pulled the box into his lap, resting his hands protectively over it. “Now, tell me what you know about your sire. I’m dying to hear his version of
the story.”
I had a good idea what was in the box, but I tore my gaze from it. “He didn’t tell me anything. Max told me Nathan killed his wife. And when I—” I stumbled over the words I didn’t want to say. “When I drank your blood, I saw what happened to him at one of your Vampire New Year parties. But I don’t know how it all fits together.”
Cyrus steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “Yes, from what I understand, Nolen can be a very private person.”
Snapping his fingers, Cyrus motioned to Nathan. Holding the box tight to his chest, Cyrus stood and retrieved a crystal champagne flute from a tray on the mantel. Instead of filling it with the sparkling green absinthe in the decanter beside it, he moved to where the guards hauled Nathan to his feet. “Shall you do the honors, or shall I?”
Nathan was unconscious. His head drooped forward, hiding the bloody mess that was his face. It was a miracle Cyrus hadn’t killed him.
The thought had barely crossed my mind when Cyrus pulled a dagger from his sleeve and plunged it into Nathan’s side.
“No!” I tried to stand, but with my arms tied, my balance was sorely lacking. I fell to the sofa and tipped sideways.
Cyrus filled the glass halfway with Nathan’s blood, then wiped the knife clean on Nathan’s soiled T-shirt. “Let’s not overreact, Carrie. You knew he was going to die when he came through the front door. But he does need to live, for now. At least, until you can see what I need you to see.”
He drew the blade across his wrist, letting the ensuing stream of blood mix with Nathan’s in the glass. I thought they should have reacted violently toward each other, fizzing and foaming or separating like oil and water, but the dark liquid blended into one murky cocktail.
When it was full, Cyrus held the glass to my lips. “Drink it.”
Closing my eyes, I smelled the familiar scent of Cyrus and felt the call of my sire. What would happen when I drank it?
The hard edge of the knife poked my throat, an insistent, dangerous pressure.
“Drink it.”
Wetting my lips, I opened my mouth. It’s now or never. You wanted answers, you’re about to get them.
Blood Ties Book One: The Turning Page 30
