Pandora went invisible, wrapping the darkness around herself as she flipped over in her seat, infuriated.
"What are you doing here?" she mouthed the words fiercely, not sure if she knew how to hide her voice in the shadows for only Sam to hear. "Why are you following me?"
He didn't respond. He just flashed her a wicked grin, winking.
And dammit, she couldn't deny that the secrets in that smile were intriguing—maddeningly intriguing. But she widened her eyes and flared her nostrils, emphasizing her frustration.
"Uh, Dory?" Jax asked, confused. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," she said, grunting as she turned back around and casted the shadows away. None of this was going to get solved through furious mouthing and exaggerated facial expressions. She needed to talk to Sam, needed to tell him to stop. Crossing her arms, she stared resolutely ahead and said, "I have to pee."
"What?" Jax asked, brows coming together. “Vampires don’t pee.”
She turned to him, expression made of stone. "Then I have to powder my nose, okay?"
He frowned, searching her eyes for the hidden meaning in her words, positive this was about him and the kiss that never should have happened but still not understanding her reaction. Finally, he sighed. "Should we talk about this?"
Her gaze darted to the rearview mirror. "No."
"If this was your escape plan, I’ll admit, I didn’t see it coming,” he murmured, trying to lighten the mood as always.
Pandora sighed. "Just find a freaking rest stop, Jax."
Then she dropped her head against the seat rest and closed her eyes, determined not to open them until the car came to a complete stop.
One annoyingly attractive stalker she could handle.
Two was a stretch.
Both at the same time? Impossible.
Chapter Fifteen
They pulled over a little while later. Pandora immediately hopped out of the car and gunned for the bathroom, seeking safe haven inside a stall. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped the shadows around herself, shaking her head.
Who does this Sam guy think he is?
A killer smile and alarmingly piercing blue eyes do not give you the right to follow me around, to avoid answering all my questions, to sneak up on me in the middle of a very vulnerable and private moment in my life!
Oh, he's about to get a piece of my mind.
Oh yes, he is.
Armed with her rising fury, Pandora slipped out of the stall, perfectly silent, and exited the bathroom.
Sam was leaning against the wall with one knee bent, wrapped in the shadows, waiting for her. Again she noticed how his power seemed different from hers. She had to pull the shadows closer, to gather them around herself, but they clung to Sam's frame, as though the shadows were his natural world, and in order to enter the light, he had to push them away, to forcefully keep them at bay. Upon seeing her, he grinned and used his bent leg to push off the wall, movements as smooth as the liquid darkness pulsating around him.
"Come with me," Pandora said harshly, walking right past him. "Now."
He followed, not trying to put up a fight. Of course, this was probably what he'd been after all along—snagging a few moments alone with her while Jax filled the gas tank.
Moving quickly, she exited the rest stop and walked around the edge of the building, not stopping until she was out of sight of the parking lot and out of earshot—they were invisible, but she still wanted to be cautious.
And then she spun on her heels, shoving her hands into Sam's chest, but he jumped out of the way at the last second, just out of reach.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped.
He gazed at her as if she were a petulant child and soothingly murmured her name. "Pandora."
"Oh, don't Pandora me," she retorted, crossing her arms, trying to fight the tingle creeping up her spine at the sound of her name rolling off his lips. Something about his voice cast a spell over her, made her want to trust him, to believe him, against her better judgment and her will. She straightened her back, forcing her insides to harden and to freeze, fighting the power he was trying to use over her. "I don’t even know who you are! Why are you following me?"
"I'm Sam," he said casually, shrugging.
She clenched her fists. "I don't know anything about you aside from your name, Sam, and I'm sorry, but that’s not good enough."
He stepped closer, cerulean gaze probing as it searched hers, warm and intoxicating. He raised his hand and let it hover next to her cheek, just close enough to make her hyperaware of his nearness without actually touching her, just close enough to make her want to lean in and close the gap. "You know me better than anyone," he urged. "Even if you don't remember, your soul does. And I know you sense it too. We're connected. We always have been, and we always will be."
Pandora edged back, pulling away from his touch as her brows came together. "What does that even mean?"
"We're so close this time," he whispered. "So close."
She shook her head, stepping away from that hopeful look in his gaze. "I don't know who you think I am, but you have to leave me alone."
"I know exactly who you are," he murmured, expression falling. "You're the one who keeps forgetting."
She stopped moving. "Then tell me. Who am I?"
"I can't." He dropped his hand.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "Who are you really?"
He brought his brows together, serious and pained. "I can't."
Pandora sighed, infuriated by the game he was playing. "I don't understand."
"You're not supposed to," he said as a sad smile danced across his lips.
Maybe it's not a game, she thought, watching his soft expression, watching the deep pain and agony streaked through his bright blue eyes, the deep, concerned grooves etched into his sun-kissed skin. But game or not, she wanted answers. She needed them. "If you can't tell me anything, then why are you here?"
A fiery expression passed over his face. "Because I hate that guy."
Pandora lifted a brow, staring at him. "Jax?"
Is he…jealous?
I don't even know him!
This is insane!
But Sam was ignoring her question, yet again, curling his upper lip and clenching his fists instead. There was a really infuriating pattern developing here, one she planned to nip in the bud. But right as she was about to repeat the question, firmer this time, Sam finally spoke.
"I hate that he calls you Dory," he admitted, voice laced with bitterness, as though a sour taste was stuck to his tongue. "Like he's the one who knows you better than anyone else ever has. And I hate the way he speaks to you, like he knows what's best. And I hate that he can touch you when I—" He paused, lifting his hands, so his fingers brushed against her bare shoulder, hardly a whisper, no stronger than the wind, as though he were nothing more than a ghost. And then he retreated, blue eyes shifting back to hers, touching her to her core, piercing and intense. "Most of all, I hate the way you look at him like he's the most important person in the world."
Did she?
Still?
Pandora licked her lips, tilting her head to look at Sam, to really see him. Something about his vibrant blond hair, his strong, callused hands, his broad frame—something about him seemed familiar, as if he were a valiant knight from one of her schoolgirl fantasies, not real and at the same time just real enough. But how could she have forgotten him? If she loved him the way he thought she did, how could she have possibly forgotten him? And how was that even possible when she loved Jax, when her whole life until four years ago had been about Jax and no one and nothing else?
It wasn't possible.
It was crazy.
Yet his words resonated in some hidden part of her soul, some deep dark place she couldn't quite remember, a part of herself that had faded away like a beautiful dream in the soft morning sun.
Just when she was about to ask more, to follow him down the rabbit hole, a voice stopped her.
&nb
sp; "Dory?"
Jax.
Calling her name.
Wondering why it was taking her twenty minutes to powder her nose.
When Pandora turned toward the sound of his voice, Sam sneered.
"I have to go," she said.
"Running back to him?" Sam acidly teased.
But Jax had brought her back to the real world, out of the fantasy Sam was trying to weave, the impossible web he was luring her into. "Look," she said, putting her hands on her hips, standing her ground. "Just stop following me. Leave me alone. I'm not the girl you want me to be, so go mysteriously haunt someone else. Okay?"
"I'll leave you alone," he said, almost like a warning, eyes flashing. "I will. I won't come back unless you call for me, unless you want me to, and you will. But first, you need to do something."
"What?" Pandora asked, tired. Anything. I'll do anything to get at least one of you off my case, to be left alone to my many mistakes, to my life.
Sam uttered one word. "Remember."
Well, that's annoyingly vague.
"Remember what?" she replied, snarky as ever. "I'm going to need a little more information here because apparently, I've got early-onset Alzheimer's or something, what with all these prior loves and places and people I seem to have forgotten."
Sam smiled at her tone, lifting up one edge of his perfectly crafted lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "I deserved that."
She glared at him. "Yeah, you did."
"Dory?" Jax's voice came again.
Sam stepped closer, pulling her attention away from the sound as he spoke urgently. "Remember that night, Pandora, the night you ran away. Remember it."
She inhaled sharply, no longer joking but utterly serious. "What do you know about that night?"
He shifted his head to the side, watching her sorrowfully. "Your soul cried out to me that night, and I answered the call. I'm the one who suggested you become a vampire. I'm the one who put the idea in your head, who told you where to go and who to find. I thought it would solve all of our problems. You see, I thought the change would be permanent. I thought there would be no going back. I thought it'd be best for you to forget so you could heal the ache in your heart that much faster. I thought he was a childhood crush, nothing more. I didn’t think he'd be able to change your mind or your heart so easily. But he has. And now, with the cure, everything has changed. So you need to remember."
"Wait…you…that night—you?" Pandora said, incoherent as her thoughts raced, and her head twitched back and forth, as though the two sides of her brain were fighting, unable to comprehend. He'd told her to become a vampire? He'd convinced her? But they'd only met a few days ago in the blood bar. Hadn't they?
"Pandora," Sam whispered, bringing his finger under her chin, skin warm and soft, a half touch, real but not real, just like him. Ethereal. Calmed by his caress, Pandora's mind stopped whirling, and she looked up into his eyes. "Remember."
"I can't," she confessed. The constant ache in her chest spiked at the very idea, hot and demanding, painfully burning her insides, the reminder that she didn’t want to remember, that it would break her to remember. "Just tell me."
"You wouldn't believe me," he said, gaze penetrating deep and demanding, holding her captive. "You have to remember for yourself."
"How?"
"The cure," he said, strained, as though the words themselves were fighting against him. "Get the cure. The wall holding your memories back is built into your vampirism. If it goes, you'll be able to force yourself to remember. And when you do, I'll be there if you need me, if you need someone to make sure you keep running."
"The cure?" she repeated, unable to believe his words.
Am I really back to this?
Why can't I escape it?
"Dory?" Jax called again, closer this time, drawing her attention. Pandora turned in time to watch him round the corner of the building, searching the empty space for a sign of her. "I know you're here. I can sense you—tracker mojo and all. If this was your big plan to escape, you sort of suck at it."
"Pandora," Sam said, sensual and smooth.
She turned back to him and stared into his blue eyes, getting lost in them, enchanted by some spell she didn't understand. He lifted his thumb and ran it over the edge of her lip, sending a shiver down her spine as he murmured, "We were so close."
And then the shadows curled around his broad shoulders, hugging his frame like long-lost friends and swallowing him up, surrounding Sam in an ebony cloud, pulling him deeper into the darkness than she could go, to a place where she didn’t yet understand how to follow. He left her with one final word.
"Remember."
Pandora stared at the empty spot for a moment.
Was he even real?
More importantly, did she believe him?
"Dory, come on," Jax said again, an edge of annoyance leaking into his tone. "This is getting ridiculous. I know you're right here somewhere. You're good, but you're not that good."
She released the shadows, pushing them away, letting the light touch her once more. "I am that good, Jax, and don't forget it."
He lifted his brows at her dubiously. "If you weren't trying to run, then what are you doing back here by the dumpsters?"
Pandora glanced to the side, eying the overflowing bin. Damn, Sam is good. He'd wrapped her up in him so much she didn’t even notice the smell. But now, her super vampire senses couldn't focus on anything else. Gross.
"Let's get out of here," she muttered.
Jax put his hand out, stopping her. "Okay, well, that's why I was trying to come find you."
Pandora scrunched her brows, confused. "What?"
Jax sighed, staring at her almost apologetically with his saltwater eyes. "Remember when I said I had a good feeling about today?"
"What'd you do?" she asked immediately.
"Me?" He scoffed indignantly. "I didn't do anything."
But her gaze narrowed. "You jinxed us. You totally jinxed us."
"Well…"
She slapped him on the arm. "I told you this was going to happen!"
"Yes, Dory, you're right," he replied sarcastically.
I usually am, she thought, but he plowed on.
"My commenting that we might be able to go one single, solitary day without fighting for our lives is one hundred percent the reason there's a horde of vampires surrounding this rest stop as we speak. It couldn't possibly be because vampires have been at war with each other ever since the cure was discovered, that they've been trying to stop any of their own kind interested in the cure from reaching the conduits, that for months and months they've been killing any vampires who crossed the border into Florida without permission. It couldn't possibly be that. No, of course not. It's all my fault."
"Jax?"
"What?"
"Shut up."
He opened his mouth to speak, but she flew toward him and covered his lips with her palm.
"No, really, shut up. I need to listen."
At that, he froze.
Pandora stretched out with her ears, listening for the featherlight step of a vampire at high speed, searching for the sound of thick, tar-like blood pumping slowly through a frozen body without the aid of a heartbeat.
At first, she didn't hear anything.
And then it came in waves.
She’d heard there were gangs of vampires waiting at the Florida border, trying to stop anyone from getting the cure, determined to destroy what they saw as traitors to their own kind. But she’d shrugged it off as gossip. She hadn’t believed it could possibly be so bad, hadn’t believed there could possibly be so many.
Clearly, she’d been wrong.
Her eyes flew wide. "We have to go, now."
"What?" Jax asked, concerned.
Pandora shook her head. "How many did you see? Before you came to find me?"
He shrugged. "Five, maybe six, walking up through the parking lot."
"There're more coming," Pandora said, cursing silently as the pitt
er-patter of swiftly moving feet crunching on leaves filtered into her ears. Dozens. Too many for the two of them to handle. As though her presence had triggered some sort of silent alarm, had alerted an army. "A lot more."
"Then let's go," Jax said, already turning around.
But it was too late.
Three vampires walked casually around the side of the building, gazes sharp, teeth sharper. Pandora and Jax spun to the other side, but two more were already turning the corner, eyes bright blue with hunger.
They were outnumbered.
They were surrounded.
Real talk?
They were in deep, deep shit.
Chapter Sixteen
"To the roof?" Pandora whispered.
Jax nodded. A moment later, they were airborne, jumping twenty feet up before landing smoothly on the flat gravelly surface. But it was only a temporary fix.
"How far away is the conduit camp?" Pandora asked as they moved to the center and stood back-to-back, gazes locked on the edges of the building, ready for whatever was coming.
"I don't know." Jax shrugged, shoulder blades moving against hers. "An hour, maybe two driving. Could be shorter if we figure out how to cut through the woods on foot, but I'm not that confident with my navigational skills."
Pandora raised a brow even though he couldn't see. "You're a tracker."
"Yeah, I track people, not places, and I don't have anyone to trace."
"The girl!" Pandora exclaimed. "The conduit girl, Kira—you spoke to her at the graveyard. Track her. She's there. I know she is."
"Good idea," he muttered, already concentrating. A couple of seconds later, he said, "Okay, I think I've got a faint path, enough to go on for now, but I'm not sure how accurate it is."
"That's fine," Pandora added quickly, scanning their surroundings. And then she paused. "Hey, Jax?"
"Yeah," he replied absently, mind still on the trail.
"Why didn’t they follow us up here?" she wondered aloud, easing out of her fighting stance to put her hands on her hips, confused. "They should be up here by now. We should be fighting by now."
Frost (Midnight Ice Book One) Page 17
