by Ravyn Wilde
Zane stopped just a few feet from Nicky’s door and groaned. He turned around and gazed up at her window.
Shit! A damn fence wouldn’t help. He would still share her mind when she wrote sex scenes.
He’d consigned himself to hell.
It had been a mistake, letting her buy the cottage. One he would undoubtedly pay for in heartache for the rest of his life.
Chapter Seven
Nicole stepped outside, lifting her face to the sun’s caress. Taking a deep breath of spring air filled with the scents of lilacs and roses, her gaze caught on the riot of wildflowers growing under the trees between her cottage and Zane’s house. She could hear insects buzzing, birds chirping. The beautiful spring day made putting up with a solid twenty-four hours of rain worthwhile.
She turned to look over the evergreen-filled valley toward the Cascade Mountains. The view from Zane’s property provided relief to her injured soul. Well. Maybe “injured soul” was taking it too far. Wrapping her arms around her stomach in a self-hug, her mood shifted drastically.
Zane had left her last night without saying goodbye or telling her what he planned to do today. She’d slept late. When she’d called him a few hours ago, he’d been cold. Emotionless.
Gone was the teasing happiness she always heard in his voice when he talked to her. Though truthfully, there’d been times last night when he’d looked unhappy. Grim would be a better word. Determined. And Nicole thought she knew why.
It was the beginning of the end.
Mentally replaying part of their conversation from the night before, she thought about what he’d said about vampires and their inherent dearth of relationships. He’d started to get that grim expression on his face until she’d changed the subject and seduced him. If she was drawing conclusions about their relationship and the deficit of long-term possibilities, he had to be doing the same thing.
All she could ever be to him is a short fling. She didn’t feel that way about Zane. How difficult would it be once their time together was over to watch him from her cottage window, hoping to catch a glimpse of dark hair and toned body? Nicole started. Shaking her head at her idiocy, she realized she’d be right back to where she was a couple days ago. Dreaming of Zane then using those sexually frustrated fantasies to fill the pages of her latest manuscript.
It was hard to believe that this time last week, she hadn’t known him at all. The hours they’d spent together had been so crammed with new discoveries and passion they felt elongated into months. She certainly knew him better than she did men she’d dated for years. She didn’t want their relationship to deteriorate to her creating erotic sex scenes that an unwilling Zane would vicariously share with her because of some weird mental connection.
Nicky sighed. Who was she kidding? If that was all she could have with him, a part of her wanted to write the hottest damn scenes she could manage. If she was going to suffer, he might as well get pulled along for the ride.
Hearing the sound of a car working its way up the long driveway, she decided she didn’t want to be social. Didn’t want to wave at the contractors working on the new indoor arena for the horses or talk to any of the guards. Or run into Zane.
Hurrying inside her house, she set up her laptop on the kitchen table. The smell emanating from the coffee pot made her nauseous so she dumped the full pot down the drain and got a glass of water. She wasn’t feeling great. If she couldn’t forget about her headache and get into her latest story in the next few minutes, she’d allow herself to go back to bed.
Nicole blinked, rubbing the spot between her eyes in an attempt to clear her thoughts.
She was losing moments of time.
Staring at the bottom-right-hand corner of her computer screen, she realized she’d been sitting in her kitchen for over an hour without typing a complete sentence. Her head ached. Her stomach felt queasy and she missed Zane like she would an amputated limb.
Taking a sip of water, she struggled to swallow. Her throat ached and was swollen. Groaning, she decided forcing herself to work wasn’t going to help. She must be coming down with the flu. She’d just go to bed and sleep away the rest of the day.
That sounded so good. Bed, pillows and a darkened room.
As she logged off the computer, she heard the wood floor creak behind her. “Zane,” she whispered as her heart jumped.
Before she could turn around, she felt a sharp, stinging sensation between her shoulder blades. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Mike and one of the contractors she’d seen on the estate.
Mike was holding a syringe in his hand.
“What did you do?” She tried to interject strength in the demand. But her voice was hoarse and she was just so tired.
Mike laughed, holding up his other hand. “Just gave you something to relax. Recognize this? Want to tell me how your pretty bauble ended up on the floor in my closet?”
Shit! Her necklace was draped around his fingers, the crystal N catching the light. Glittering. Hand going to her neck, she realized the fragile gold chain must have broken in Mike’s closet. She remembered snagging her hair on something, feeling a tug on her neck. There was no way he’d believe it wasn’t hers. She’d made damn sure to practically stick the thing under his nose. “What do you mean you gave me something to relax?” She tried to stand and was forced to grab the back of the chair for support.
“Nighty-night, vampire bitch!” Mike laughed.
“I hate needles,” she mumbled. Her vision went black and she crumpled to the floor, taking the chair with her. Her muscles refused to work. Hearing the men move closer, she felt their rough hands as they picked her up and one of the men slung her over their back. Mentally she struggled with the urge to throw up when her stomach made contact with a hard shoulder. What in the hell had they done? How could she hear and yet be unable to open her eyes? She felt the wild pounding of her heart and the rise and fall of her chest as she pulled in air, but couldn’t control her muscles.
The temperature changed and she knew they’d carried her outside. Within moments she was roughly dumped onto a cold, hard surface and something was spread over her body, covering her head. She fought the rise of claustrophobic panic, telling herself it didn’t matter—she couldn’t open her eyes anyway.
When she heard the slam of metal against metal, she had a pretty good idea they’d thrown her in the trunk of a car. The smell of exhaust fumes confirmed her prison. The car stopped a few minutes after it started and Nicky realized they’d reached the guard station. She tried to scream but was unable to force the smallest sound from her throat. She hoped the guard would find reason to search the vehicle and wanted to cry when she realized it wouldn’t happen. After all, the men had been allowed into the compound, the guards wouldn’t stop them on the way out.
And she was right. The car continued on without anyone realizing she was locked in the trunk.
At first she tried to think, to figure out why they’d taken her and come up with some sort of plan. But planning anything was ridiculous. Until the drug Mike had shot her with wore off, she couldn’t move a finger to help herself. Her mind kept replaying what he’d said just before she’d collapsed. Nighty-night, vampire bitch.
Vampire bitch? Had he kidnapped her because they thought she was a vampire? She couldn’t help remembering what Mike told JJ when she’d been hiding in his closet. In horrific detail, he’d fantasized about what he’d like to do to her if he had the chance.
Great. Besides being kidnapped, she had to worry about Mikey playing sadistic little games with her. She wanted to scream. To pound her fists and kick her heels into the metal surrounding her. Hell. Even crying would let her release some of her fear.
All she could do was lay there. Silent. Unmoving. Scared.
Fighting a headache—and a growing sense of dread—Zane parked in front of his house. He eyed the large black car blocking his way. The guards at the gate had waved him through without warning him of visitors. As he climbed out of his SUV, he scanned t
he front porch. When a stocky man with shoulder-length black hair stepped out of the shadows, Zane sighed.
No wonder his guards hadn’t said a word…they probably hadn’t seen the car. “Vlad.”
“Zane.” Thick eyebrows rose over the man’s deep-brown eyes. Eyes full of unholy glee. Vlad loved pulling his chain. “I warned you I would be visiting. To watch…well…so many things. You do not look happy to see me, my friend.” Vlad’s thick Romanian accent punctuated his words.
Hell no, he wasn’t happy to see Vlad. Anytime Zane had been in Vlad’s vicinity, bad things happened. Death, mayhem and madness seemed to follow the vampire wherever he went. He watched the man turn and hold out his hand to his tall, blonde mate.
“Hey Veronica. It’s nice to see you,” Zane muttered.
“Hi Zane.” Veronica’s soft voice was full of mischief. “Sorry we dropped in on you like this.”
“No you’re not. Or at least, Vlad’s not.” Zane walked up the steps to the porch that wrapped around his large cedar house. He wanted to move the conversation inside, away from the bright spring sunlight that seemed to make his head pound.
Running a hand through his hair, he peered into the shadows. “Where’s Igor?” he asked, expecting to see Vlad’s spooky human servant hovering nearby.
“He is at the airport. Gathering our luggage, overseeing the storage of our plane. I felt it necessary to come ahead. Something is not right in your world, Zane. So I hurried up your mountain to see why I feel this way.”
Frowning, Zane considered for a few moments how Igor dealt with things when the man didn’t talk. He’d seen Igor pass notes in other countries when running errands for Vlad. He guessed it wasn’t too much to believe the man could write English as well.
Turning to look toward Nicole’s cottage, Zane fought the need to run down the hill to check on her. Everything was quiet. He could see her car parked under the carport. The front door of her house was closed. Sun glinted off her windows and he winced in pain.
Zane rubbed his eyes. He reminded himself that there was a good reason to stay away. “Let’s go inside. I know what you mean. I’m anxious myself, but I don’t know where the feeling is coming from. I need blood.”
Opening the door to his house, he crossed into his study where he kept a hidden supply of bagged blood. The dark, cool room should have provided a measure of relief to his aching body. It didn’t.
Hell. At two hundred and fifty-two years old, he’d been going out in the sun for over five decades. Yeah, he had to limit his exposure to three or four hours a day. A glance at his watch told him he’d been out for a couple hours. So why did he feel this way?
Pouring blood from the clear plastic bag into a glass, he offered it to Veronica first, then Vlad. They both waved the offer away. Drinking quickly, he waited for the blood to take away his headache. It didn’t help. He stared at the glass and frowned.
“You don’t look so good, my friend. What is wrong?” Vlad leaned forward in his seat, frowning. His long hair brushed his shoulders. “When did you last see your little romance writer? Your neighbor. What was her name?”
“Leave Nicky out of this,” Zane growled in warning. For some reason the thought of having Vlad around Nicole bothered him. “There’s nothing wrong. I have a headache is all.” That wasn’t the truth. His body ached as if he were coming down with the flu.
Vlad sighed, drawing Zane’s attention.
“What? If you have something to say, say it!” he snapped.
Smiling, Vlad reached for Veronica’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “You have a headache? Let me suggest that you are also at least slightly nauseous.”
Zane started to reply but Vlad held up his hand.
“And it is obvious you are feeling mean. Do you not recognize the signs, my friend? You saw them in me a hundred years ago.”
Frowning, Zane thought back. A hundred years ago he’d taken a trip to Europe to visit Vlad. After meeting Ronnie, the man had become a raving lunatic. Not that he had ever been what most people would call sane.
But for several days after meeting the leggy blonde, Vlad had been sick, complaining of headaches and assorted bodily discomfort.
Until they’d figured out she was his mate.
“Shit!”
“Just so. Where is your little neighbor? If you are feeling the effects of a budding vampire true bond, I imagine your human’s condition is much worse,” Vlad warned.
Zane jumped to his feet. “Nicole!” All thoughts of staying away from her fled. If Vlad was right, if she was his mate, there was no need. And she could be sick. Dying because he wasn’t at her side.
He reached her house with Vlad and Veronica on his heels. Without stopping to knock, he rushed through the door, shouting for Nicole. Zane didn’t stop in the kitchen, instead running through the house, up the stairs and into her bedroom. She wasn’t there.
A quick dash through the rest of the house proved she wasn’t home.
“Zane. You need to come look at this,” Ronnie called.
Walking back into the kitchen, he noticed their attention on the overturned chair. Or rather, what was hidden underneath it. Vlad was crouched down looking at something on the floor. Ronnie was bent over, one hand resting on Vlad’s back, peering at the floor as well. Zane stepped around the couple to see what had captured their attention. “What is it?” he asked.
Ronnie looked up at him, her expression grim. “It’s a syringe. And a necklace.”
Bending down, Zane picked up the necklace. The crystal N twirled between his fingers on a broken gold chain. Frowning, he tried to remember when he’d seen Nicole wear it.
Then it hit him. She’d had it on when they’d been at Mike and JJ’s. His fingers had traced it as they stood in the closet. He tried hard to conjure up another memory of it and failed. Finding the necklace with a syringe scared the crap out of him.
Zane didn’t waste anytime calling one of the guards at the gate to the compound. The only visitor they’d had today besides Vlad—and they hadn’t seen him anyway—was one of the contractors working on the new horse arena. The guard told him the man had needed to pick up some of his tools. He’d been in a small, black Ford, and there had been another man with him, a blond military-type…
Who fit Mike Maloney’s description, Zane belatedly realized.
“Fuck. She’s been kidnapped.”
“Do you have any idea who took her?” Vlad didn’t question that Nicole had been taken. His easy acceptance somehow made Zane feel worse. He would have liked Vlad to argue with him, give him other options instead of agreeing so quickly.
“Why couldn’t the connection I share with Nicole be more useful?” He wanted to hit something.
“What connection are you blathering about?” Vlad asked.
Zane shook his head, unwilling to share this with Vlad.
“Everything could be important at a time like this. Spill!”
Sighing, Zane explained, “I told you Nicole’s a writer. Well, when she writes sex scenes or imagines them in her mind, I hear every word—see every detail as she puts it on paper. We also connect when we’re having sex.”
“The ruby. Where is the ruby you received from Yuli?” Vlad grabbed his arm.
Zane frowned. Fuck the ruby. “I don’t give a shit about the ruby, Vlad! I want Nicole back.”
Vlad thumped him on the forehead with the flat of his hand. “You idiot! The ruby is one of the ancients’ relics. It has powers we don’t usually screw around with. Vampires form a mental bond with their mates after the bonding, but sometimes before the link has been completely forged there can be shadows of what is to come. Your ability to share Nicole’s thoughts while she writes was most likely augmented by the stone. One of the ruby’s powers is to intensify the connection between a mated pair. It acts as a strengthener for love, inducing awareness of your heart’s connection. There is some doggy-crap about it opening you to self-love in order to receive the devotion of others.”
&
nbsp; Vlad glared at Ronnie when she giggled. Turning back to Zane, he continued, “The true bond is intense enough without being strengthened by the stone, so those of us who knew what it could do decided to keep it locked away. But it’s too late for you anyway. You might as well use it to see if it can help you reach Nicole with your mind.”
Zane’s jaw dropped. “What? Why wasn’t I told about this?” The ancients were vampires he never wanted to meet. Several thousand years old instead of the few centuries Zane or Vlad could count. The stories told about their supernatural abilities and extremely short tempers scared the shit out of him. If he’d known the ruby belonged to one of them, he never would have touched the thing.
“The lead-lined box holding the ruby should have protected you from its powers. And there are other, less-pleasant aspects to the ruby. It can be used by the unscrupulous among us to create zealous idolatry among humans, a sort of mass hypnosis removing freewill. They would follow the user no matter his insane plot. Because of this, the ruby is kept with those we know would never use its powers.” Vlad glared at him, as if to say he was disappointed Zane had ever touched the thing.
“The damn thing didn’t come in a box! I pried it from the delivery man’s hand when he died on my doorstep.” Zane glowered right back.
Vlad let out his breath and nodded. “Ah. Well. That explains it. Get the ruby, Zane. Maybe with the stone’s help you can create a pathway to her mind.”
The group was silent on the way back to Zane’s house. When they reached it, he left Vlad and Ronnie alone while he rushed upstairs. Pushing his bed out of the way, he grabbed the ruby out of the safe and hurried back downstairs. Every second Nicole was in the hands of those madmen made him crazy.
Vlad understood his need to hurry. “Hold the stone and concentrate on your woman. Picture her in your mind. The way she looks. Smells.”
Summoning a clear vision of Nicole in his mind, he imagined running his hands through the soft silk of her long, black hair. Called up the image of her expressive blue eyes and the faded freckles on her nose that he liked to kiss. Squeezing his eyes closed, he called to her. Nicole. Nicole, can you hear me?
