by Apryl Baker
“Why did you send Gavin away?” she asked. Gavin was the only one to come looking for her. She doubted Nicolette would be allowed out of their home, but surely at least some of her other brothers could have come with him? Why hadn’t they? Did they consider her as tossable as their father?
“You were going to kill him.”
“I would never!” she denied.
“You wouldn’t have meant to do it.” His eyes softened. “You are just risen from your change. You smelled his blood. I snatched you away before you bit him. As a newborn, you would have no control and might have torn his throat out before we could stop you.”
She sat back down, thunderstruck. She did remember all those weird thoughts and sensations running through her. The flavors. Could she have really hurt her brother? Killed him? If what the brute said were true, then she owed him a great debt. Katyia would never have been able to live with herself if she’d harmed her brother.
“There are things you must learn, controlling your bloodlust being one of them.” The man sat in front of her, his arms crossed. He looked very put out having to be here, talking to her. It irked. This wasn’t her fault. She didn’t ask to be turned. “There were some complications with your turning that you must be made aware of.”
“Complications?”
“We had several ravagers break through our perimeter. One got into the tent while you were being turned. A fight ensued, and you got some of its blood in your mouth.”
“And?” she prompted, her voice just as quiet as his.
“And its blood combined with ours during the turn. The virus that causes our condition morphed around the ravager’s blood. It made you a hybrid of sorts.”
“Hybrid?” Colors started popping everywhere, around Roman, her, the room. Blacks, reds, blues.
“Part witch, part vampire, and part…ravager.”
Ravager? She was part ravager. Nausea hit her and she barely had time to lean over before she threw up. Red liquid spewed out of her mouth. She gagged more just looking at it. Vampire. Blood. She was throwing up blood.
It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Her hands shook. There was no reality where being part ravager existed. Those things slaughtered her mother, her brother, and he was telling her she was now one of them? A ravager? Her fingers dug into the earth, spasming as the shock of it hit her full on.
The ground beneath her began to shake. The winds outside howled in outrage, whipping the trees so hard several uprooted themselves. Screams reached her, but it didn’t register. A ravager? No.
Her fingernails dug into her skin, ripping, tearing. She wouldn’t be one of them. She tore through the veins in her wrist, ripping upward. Blood spilled and she laughed, watching it fall to the ground to join the puddle that had spilled from her mouth. They might have done this to her, but they couldn’t make her live like this.
“Stop it.” The stern command was whispered against her ear. His breath sent tingles of awareness through her where its warmth feathered over her skin. Katyia blinked, woozy. Blood was draining rapidly from her wounds. How…the brute held her, but he’d been sitting in front of her. She reacted, turning, her elbow coming up and slamming into his face.
He pulled her close, his hands trapping her. Not even a grunt from the impact of her wild swing.
“Roman, what in God’s name…” Greggor appeared in front of her. “What did she do?”
“What do you think she did?” he growled. “Get something to bind these wounds until they have time to heal.”
“No.” Her voice held steel. “I will not live with the blood of a ravager within me. I will not be unclean!”
“You don’t get to decide that.” Roman tightened his arms around her. “You belong to me now, little one. I decide your fate. Me and me alone. Understand?”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” She shook her head to clear it. “Certainly not you, brute.”
Greggor took hold of her hands, clucking like a mother hen. “Why would you do this? Roman and I worked hard to keep you alive, and here you are trying to throw that life away.”
“What life would that be?” she snapped. “One where the very creatures that stole everything from me can claim me as their own? I won’t have it. I would rather die than have their blood coursing through me!”
The ground beneath them ruptured, sending them all spilling in different directions. Her hands shook. The ground shook. Roman cursed and picked her up, sitting and holding her captive in his lap while Greggor went back to bandaging her wounds.
“You might still.” Greggor’s lips thinned disapprovingly. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“You need to calm yourself, girl.” The words were hard, cold. “None of us is going to survive many more of these outbursts of yours. I’m having a hard enough time convincing my people that you aren’t dangerous. These little displays of elemental magic are not helping.”
“I’m not doing anything.” Her eyes began to droop.
“She needs blood.”
“I’m aware.”
Katyia tried to tell them no, she didn’t need blood, but she’d just lost too much of it. Her vision became fuzzy, darkening until she saw and heard nothing. Blessed silence.
Roman rubbed his chin while Greggor rolled his shoulder. Damn, but the girl knew how to fight. Strong too. Stronger than any new turn should be. It had to be the ravager’s blood. It magnified her magic as well. She’d nearly killed them all with the massive earthquake and windstorm. She won no favors with that little display, either. Terrified didn’t even begin to describe his people right now. They wanted her dead.
He wouldn’t kill her. Not yet.
“Well, that didn’t go well.”
Biggest understatement ever. Neither of them thought she’d try to kill herself after finding out about the ravager blood coursing through her. She’d been very precise too. It made him wonder if she’d ever tried something like that before. Not many people knew to slice up the vein instead of across it.
“We need to make sure she’s not left alone. Another repeat performance and she won’t survive.”
“Who do you trust to watch her?” Greggor groaned a bit when his shoulder finally shifted in place. Roman bit back a grin remembering how Greggor had gone flying through the air with just a small push from the girl.
“You and Lucern. Keep Delia away at all costs.” His sister would do anything necessary to protect her people from a perceived threat. The girl fit the bill.
“Roman, even if she’s not dangerous…she might not be willing to help us. What then?”
He cracked his knuckles. The question was one of many that steamrolled his thoughts since the moment he’d seen her running from the ravagers. He admired her bravery. Her beauty haunted him. She’d gotten under his skin a bit, truth be told. Not something he’d admit to anyone, but there it was. The thought of putting her down unsettled him.
Greggor was right. He couldn’t force her to help him gain back his rightful place as heir to the throne of the vampire clans. His uncle collected power, enough to keep Roman from attacking outright. With the girl’s power magnified, he stood a shot of getting close to the bastard. If she refused…not an option.
“I’m her ruler. She’ll do as she’s told.” He hoped.
Greggor barked out a laugh. “Like that worked? She’s more likely to kick a puppy than be ordered around by you.”
The baleful look Roman tossed his brother’s way would have sent most men running, but Greggor only laughed. It irked Roman that the man was right. She’d told him exactly what she thought of his commands. No one dared disobey him. Except this slip of a girl. He respected her for it. It took guts to stand up to him. Not that he’d admit that out loud.
“You might try being nice to her instead of acting like the Lord of the Castle.”
“Why would I do that? I’m not nice.”
“God’s truth, that.”
Roman shoved his brother, careful to keep from hurting his shoulder.
“I’m serious, Roman. If you want her to help us, she needs to trust us, to feel like she has a reason to help us.” Greggor bent down and added another log to the fire. “Her world just collapsed around her, everything she loved destroyed. Her family tossed her to the bloodsuckers, monsters. Can you imagine how abandoned she must feel? All I’m saying is show her that won’t happen here. Give her a reason to fight for us.”
“And how am I supposed to do that when most everyone outside this tent wants her dead?”
“Not my problem.” Greggor stuck his hands in his pocket, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You’re the Chieftain. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“Out!” Roman pointed to the entrance. Any more lip from Greggor and he’d beat his ass.
Greggor walked away, his laughter trailing behind him.
Once alone, Roman sat. Exhaustion crawled through him. The need to feed ate at him after giving the girl so much blood, but he ignored it. He rolled his head, trying to ease some of the tension in his neck. It had been a long few days. His gaze traveled to the girl. She murmured in her sleep, restless. She looked so young, so helpless. As hard as he’d been on her, he felt for her plight. It wasn’t an easy thing to wake up to. His parents hadn’t tossed him to the wolves, but they’d been taken from him just the same. They had the loss of their parents in common in an unorthodox, roundabout way.
How was he supposed to get her to trust him? Roman wasn’t a nice person. He couldn’t afford to be. He loved his family and showed them the best way he knew how, but nice? Greggor must be daft to suggest such a thing. Not that he couldn’t be nice, but in order to keep the peace he needed to show his people he wasn’t weak. Nice equaled weak. A lesson he learned the night his family died and one he wouldn’t soon forget.
This girl felt like a gift dropped into his lap. He couldn’t get near his uncle. The man surrounded himself with guards. Elite forces trained in the arcane. Roman had searched extensively, but a person gifted in magic wasn’t that easy to find anymore. Magic seemed to be dying out in their sector for reasons unknown. Except in this girl. He’d never seen anyone take command of the earth like she had.
But how to get her on his side?
He stretched out on the ground and rolled over so he could watch her. At least she hadn’t woken up insane as he’d feared. The ravager blood was a wildcard. Roman had been half afraid she’d wake up trying to kill anything and everything in her line of sight. Thankfully, she’d been like any other normal turn. Confused and scared, but not manic. Once his people saw she posed no danger, he hoped they’d accept her. He needed them to make her feel like a part of the clan or he had no hope of succeeding.
She moaned in her sleep, and he found himself staring at her. She’d been beautiful before, but now she looked ethereal. So beautiful it was scary. When he’d held her earlier, he’d wanted to bring her back to camp instead of returning her to her father. The inclination had nothing to do with her gifts, but everything to do with her. She’d struck a chord in him he’d never felt before. Roman found himself wanting to protect her, to make sure she was safe. It was part of what drove him now. Yes, her ability to help reclaim his throne played a part in keeping her alive, but it also had everything to do with the way she made him feel. These feelings unsettled him.
Truth be told, he should kill her now, because of how he felt. Emotions derailed plans. He yawned. He’d think about killing her tomorrow. After a few hours of sleep, he’d be thinking more clearly.
Katyia came awake slowly, her senses lulled by the cocoon of heat surrounding her. Her body ached everywhere. The urge to stretch stirred, but honestly, she was just too tired to move. Hunger gnawed at her belly. How long ago had she eaten? Yesterday morning? She’d gone to her friend’s, but left before lunch. She’d needed to get home and changed for her mother’s ball. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, or tried to. Her hands were pretty much unmovable. What? Katyia tried to sit up, but the arms wrapped around her prevented any movement. A leg thrown haphazardly over hers stifled any attempt to move.
Where was she and who was this person? Her brain scrambled to remember yesterday, but it seemed to only want to focus on her hunger. It growled, and the need to eat clawed at her throat. A salty, sweet smell hit her nose and she breathed deeply. It smelled delicious and she was so very hungry. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she sucked in a breath, hissing at the unexpected pain. She let her tongue rove over her teeth and found two very sharp, elongated teeth protruding.
Memories from yesterday bombarded her. She remembered the ravager attack, the barbarians who took her home, and her mother…her mother had sent her to the monsters. Olivia had her minions incapacitate her and deliver her to the vampires. Katyia had seen Olivia’s true colors, seen how much she resented—no how much she hated Katyia. A single tear slipped free, trailing down her cheek and onto the shoulder beneath her. How could Olivia do this to her? But then how could her father do it? She’d thought last night her father had sent her here, but that wasn’t the case.
While Ivan hadn’t been the one to do the actual deed, he wasn’t exactly innocent either. He condoned it by declaring to their people the act had been approved by him. He hadn’t come to see her, to explain, to apologize, to promise vengeance for what Oliva had done. Instead, he’d taken the coward’s way out and gone along with it. Weak. That was what the brute had called her father. She’d defended him, but his actions proved her wrong. He was weak. He’d proven it by allowing his treacherous wife’s actions to go unpunished.
Ivan might be weak, but Katyia wasn’t. If it was the last thing she did, Olivia would pay.
Her stomach cramped again, this time so hard it made her gasp. She needed food in a bad way. That salty scent wafted up again and she turned her head, following it. Warm skin met her nose and her tongue darted out, licking the flesh. Flavors, so many flavors…she couldn’t identify them all, but she needed…she needed…
She found herself flipped over, her hands pinned above her faster than she could blink. Icy blue eyes met her startled ones. The brute. Her eyes narrowed. The man was such a bully. “Let me go.”
His nostrils flared. “Not likely, little one. I need to make sure you will not harm yourself.”
Harm herself? What was he going on about now? “Why would you think that?”
“You don’t remember last night?”
His voice sounded rough with sleep and sent shivers racing along her skin. Last night? She frowned, thinking. The memory hit her with the strength of one of her brother’s punches during her training sessions. The ravager…her turning. She had ravager blood in her. Her breathing sped up, the panic creeping back in. She’d tried to kill herself last night. That much she remembered, but they hadn’t let her die. How could they not honor her wishes?
“Calm yourself.” The harsh command brought her focus back to the man on top of her, forcing the panic back a little. “You need to stay calm.”
How could he tell her to calm down? Didn’t he realize what this meant? Those things, they were a part of her now. How could she survive that knowledge? The monsters who’d brutally murdered her family? Who’d murdered so many people over the years. How could he expect her to take news like that calmly?
“I know it’s a shock, but you have to control your fear.” He leaned down, his face coming closer. His scent hit her again and she shuddered as hunger rolled through her. He smelled like food, and the thirst drove the panic away. She tried to move, to get closer, but he shook his head. Katyia hissed at him, her teeth bared. Food. Hunger drove her. She bucked, nearly throwing him off.
Katyia’s eyes drifted to the beating pulse near the base of his neck where it met the shoulder. That wonderful scent seemed to be stronger there. She wanted to taste it, to run her tongue over it, feel the rapid beat against her lips…to sink her teeth into it…what? She shook her head, shocked and a little disgusted. What was happening to her?
“Be still.” The brute shifted, his grip on her hands tightening.
“You’re hungry, I know, but I am not food.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. She was a vampire now. She had to drink blood from the living. Vampires were dead, weren’t they?
Monster. The word kept running through her head like the lyrics of a bad song that wouldn’t go away. They’d turned her into a monster who survived off the death of others. She felt like crying, like screaming, but she stayed silent. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help her right now. Her death meant the lives of so many others. She had to find a way to get him to leave, so she could finish what she started last night. There was no way she would live like this, with the blood of two monsters running through her, turning her into an abomination.
Footsteps sounded outside, and then bright light blinded her, but it was the smell that came in with the wind that made her buck up, throwing the brute off her and lunging. Her hands wrapped around something warm, but the scent of fear pulled a snarl from her as her teeth sank into the flesh, tearing and ripping, needing to taste the intoxicating concoction. She sighed when the blood spilled into her mouth, blanketing her tongue. It was so wonderful. Her stomach growled its approval as she drank, ignoring the hands trying to pry her away from this delicacy.
The sticky sweetness bathed her throat, easing the burning ache she’d woken with. The headiness of the rich liquid sent her into spasms of pleasure. Nothing had ever tasted so good…and then it was gone. She opened her mouth, noises akin to a dog growling over his bone erupting from her. How dared they?
“What were you thinking, bringing her someone with the sweet sickness in their blood?” the brute roared, his words finally making it through her bloodlust. Her eyes snapped to the man on the ground. He lay there, white and unmoving, a massive gash on the side of his neck. Blood trickled out of the wound, staining the white shirt he wore.
