Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1)

by Petzler, W. M.

  “No, they didn’t scratch me either.”

  “Did you get their blood in your mouth, eyes?”

  “Huh?”

  “Hold out your hands.” Green blood was on her hands!

  “Get it off me!”

  He reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a flask. He uncorked it and poured the clear liquid onto her hands. At first it hurt, burning as the blood bubbled like it was hit with hydrogen peroxide. He handed her a handkerchief, and she wiped off her hands. No burn marks.

  Dribbling the liquid down his sword, the blood on it bubbled and disappeared. Laying his sword on the hood of the SUV, he took the flask and sprinkled the liquid on the bodies and heads. Carl and Stan’s flesh ignited like crepe paper before exploding into flames. The bodies burned as if gasoline had been poured onto them, only hotter — way hotter. The wind rose and carried away the ashes.

  “I told you to be careful! Why didn’t you lock yourself into the car?” Rathe’s black eyes blazed, becoming white-hot in his anger. “Dammit, woman, their bite is highly infectious! Just one nick of their teeth and you would have turned. I warned you about the dangers concerning the Damned.”

  “I tried, but I-I couldn’t inside the car.”

  Swearing, Rathe took her by the shoulders and kissed her.

  Chapter Four

  They dared to touch her!

  Crushing her soft lips under his, Rathe savagely kissed her, forcing her to feel his anger, the scare of seeing her held by the Damned had done to him. Stabbing his tongue, forcing her to open her mouth, he devoured her. Her arms crept around his neck; Mariah took his anger and spun it into desire. Easing his grip, he gave and she took, and he felt her entwine around him in a sensual wave. He never, ever, wanted to stop kissing her.

  When she eased back, he sought to bring her closer. She shook her head and looked at the sky. “Did we cause that by just kissing?”

  Confused by her question, he heard the crack of thunder and jerked his head up to see lightening slash downward, hitting the desert floor. Clouds of dirt erupted. Thunder replied with deafening repercussion. In all its glorious fury, the storm consumed the sky above them.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” Rathe held out his hand, ‘willing’ the storm to scatter. Never in his life had he summoned a storm merely by his emotions, sending the elements protesting his need for the small, human female!

  Glaring at her, he growled, “Woman, you are positively lethal to my very sanity. Let's go.”

  Pissed at losing control of his emotions — again, he jerked open Mariah's door for her, and when she was in, he grabbed his sword. Around the back of SUV, he opened the tailgate and slid his sword in into the scabbard, hiding it underneath the black duffle bag he kept in the car. Taking off his jacket, he tossed it in and shut the tailgate. Stomping back to the driver’s side, he got in and slammed shut his door. He started the engine and sat there, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. Anger burned red-hot to the point where he did not trust himself to speak.

  “Rathe, I didn’t ask for those men to attack me! I’m sorry you broke the treaty to defend me, but this is not my fault.” Mariah watched him nervously.

  He drew back, surprised. Her eyes had changed! No longer violet, they’d lightened to amethyst, the inner ring a lighter shade.

  The Change.

  “Rathe, what’s wrong?”

  “You need to eat.” He drove back to the restaurant.

  Parking, he shut the engine off, and dug a twenty out of his wallet, handing it to her. She took it and went inside the truck stop. Salish placed her big head on his shoulder. Rubbing her soft ear, he watched as a waitress showed Mariah to a seat at the back of the restaurant.

  If the Change couldn’t be stopped, she would turn vampire and be hunted by Slayers and the Damned. The thought of her perishing or turned demon, caused him grief he’d not thought possible to feel for a human.

  “Don’t worry, Salish. I’ll protect her. No one will hurt Mariah, not as long as I am alive.”

  ✝✝✝

  Pissed and damn tired of Rathe kissing her and pushing her away, she held her head in her hands, trying not to cry. When the waitress returned to take her order, she requested a steak, very rare, and a soda. When it arrived, the smell of blood sent her mouthwatering. Cutting a small piece of the tender steak, she put it in her mouth and chewed. Swallowed it. When it stayed down and she didn’t get sick, she salted the steak and devoured it. When she ate the last bite, she fought the urge to lick the bloody juices off the plate. Instead, she took the dinner roll and used it to mop the juices.

  Bristling when Rathe sat down opposite of her, he said quietly, “Mariah, we need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “The Change.”

  “What change?”

  “Your eyes are different, brighter. And your neck is healed. You like the taste of blood.”

  There it was, out in the open. Playing with the straw in her drink, she kept her gaze on the dinner plate. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Mariah, look at me.” When she did, she saw his concern, not condemnation. “No, I will not harm you.”

  “Can I recover from this?”

  “I don’t know. My mother might. Come with me to Santa Cruz and meet her. We’ll try to find a way to help you, I promise.” He took the check the waitress set at their table. “Do you need to use the restroom?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “I’ll meet you in the car.”

  In the bathroom, placing her hands on the edge of the sink, she stared at herself in the mirror. “Well, he knows, and you’re still alive. That’s saying something, huh?” As much as she desperately wanted to go home, she couldn’t. Not until she stopped the Change … until she had the vampire blood out of her system.

  God, what else could go wrong?

  When she was back in the car, Rathe asked, “I was wondering, did the vamps say if they had any friends around here?”

  “Carl said there are vamps in the city. He and his friend were the only ones who hunted the truck stop.”

  “Odd.”

  “What’s odd?”

  “The Damned prefer hunting in the big cities. I wonder why they weren’t with a clan.”

  “Carl said the ones in Phoenix were extremely twisted and they didn’t want any part of them. Are there different kinds of the Damned?”

  “No, there aren’t.” He seemed perplexed.

  “So, are we heading to California now?”

  “Yes. My family is there, waiting for me.” He started the car and drove back onto the highway.

  “At the risk of insulting you, can we be there before sunrise and talk to your mother about curing me?”

  “No, you do not insult me by wanting to stay human. Life as a vampire does have benefits. Taken as a whole, this is not a life I would have chosen for myself. The sooner we stop your transformation, the better for you. ”

  Unsure if she could trust him not to kill her, she kept a close eye on him. Rathe gave her an amused smile.

  “Mariah, I told you I would not kill you, and I meant it.”

  “What if I told you I was shown Murphy was killed?” She stared out her window, praying she was doing the right thing sharing what she’d saw in her dream.

  Rathe jerked the wheel of the car, almost ditching them before he righted it. “When did you see this?”

  “Earlier. In my dream.”

  “Was it shown to you or were you watching it through the killer’s eyes?”

  “The nightmare man showed me. Said I was just like him.” She scooted back in the seat, haunted by her reaction to Murphy’s death. The sight of his blood pooling around him. Her desire to lap it up.

  Rathe looked grim. “Have you remembered anything else about the night your parents were murdered?”

  “Nothing else since last night.” She drew the medallion out from under her shirt and held it her hand, finding it comforting.

  “Perhaps the protection
spell keeps you from remembering as well as hides you from the man who haunts your dreams.”

  “Maybe. Why would drinking your blood have the effect it’s having on me and my medallion?”

  “Perhaps vampire blood is the reason the spell is weakening?”

  “So, if I drank your blood again, I might be able to break the spell completely, and I could remember what’s blocked inside my mind?”

  “We talked about this before. You need the spell intact to protect you.”

  “Rathe, I need to know why my parents were murdered. Who the hell is the monster in my head? God, he speaks to me as if I’m his long lost love and wants me to … to die, and I think it’s so I will become something else. Something evil!”

  He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it. “I know it’s upsetting … frustrating not knowing, but you must keep calm and think rationally where it concerns the man in your dream. He seems to grow stronger when you are tired and angry. Keep him locked out of your head. Don’t talk to him. My mother will know more what to do to help you.”

  “I hope so. I have the impression he is running out of time and patience. When I hide from him, it pisses him off — really pisses him off, and people are dying because of me.” Her stomach gurgled in warning. Light-headed, she clutched her stomach, feeling nauseous. Pushing the button to lower the window, she breathed in the fresh air.

  “Rathe, next gas station, can we stop? I need a soda.”

  “Are you feeling alright?”

  She could see he was worried. Nodding, she tried to smile. “Just need to settle my stomach down with sugar.”

  “Sugar helps?”

  “For some reason it and salty stuff does. I ate candy bars and potato chips last night and felt fine.”

  “Strange. Does juice help?”

  “Actually, it did. Why does it help me?”

  “Well, when people donate blood, they are given juice to offset the loss of blood. Perhaps the sugary substance brings balance to your body.”

  “Sounds reasonable. Maybe if I eat junk food, the virus will be destroyed.”

  “Virus?”

  “Sorry, your blood I ingested.”

  Giving her an arched look, he kept quiet. Twenty minutes later, Rathe pulled into a gas station and parked at the gas pumps.

  “Rathe, you want anything?” He gave her a quizzical frown. “Shoot, I forgot. No food for you. Sorry.”

  “Actually, I am able to digest alcohol without difficulty.”

  “Sure, let me grab a beer for you. Uh, not a good idea. All we need on our little adventure is you arrested for a DUI.”

  “Alcohol does not affect me, like it does humans.”

  “I don’t know….”

  “Just get me a beer.” Rathe shook his head as he got out and went about filling the gas tank.

  Laughing at having exasperated him, she said, “If that’s what you want.”

  He ignored her.

  Entering the store, the door chimes made her ears ache. She nodded to the wary clerk and searched for something to ease her oncoming migraine. Selecting a bottle of pain pills, she went to the beverage section and pulled out a six-pack and a soda. Walking back to the clerk, she put the bottles on the counter. As he totaled the items, she watched him, hypnotized by the way he moved, as he nervously glanced at her. Inhaling, she smelt his fear. It oozed out of his smooth, tanned skin. So delicious, it made her mouth water!

  “Ma’am, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

  “Why is she staring at me as if I’m a steak?”

  “What did you say?” she asked him, frowning.

  “Uh, ma’am,” he nervously shifted away, “you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just … need something to drink.” Licking her lips, she heard, actually heard, his pulse quicken. His heartbeat thundered in her ears. The rush of blood through his veins made her mouth dry and the need to quench her thirst made her lean toward him.

  The chimes above the door went off as a group of young men and women entered the gas station. Her head started hurting. The whispering began low at first, building as more voices joined in. Searching the cause, she saw the television, above the clerk, was turned off. No radio was around. There was nothing for her to be hearing, but the whispering was unrelenting, a floodgate of voices, ricocheting inside her head. Another wave hit her, crushing her with their emotions: sadness, anger — misery.

  “Stop!” she yelled, startling the clerk. “For God’s sake, leave me alone!”

  “Ma’am, I’m not doing anything.”

  Crying, drowning in the emotional tidal wave, she collapsed to her knees, clutching her head. The door opened, and Rathe was beside her, kneeling. “Mariah, look at me.” When she did, he spoke to her in her mind, his deep voice broke through the voices, “Mariah, take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Build a wall to block them out. Block by block, you can silence the voices.”

  Clinging to his voice, she did as he said, building an imaginary wall around her mind, and she found relief. “Thank you! Who were they?”

  “You’ve tapped into the emotions of the humans around us. Some you could hear, mostly you felt what they felt.”

  Cold fear hit her. “Rathe, you said I was sensitive. How am I hearing voices?”

  “My guess is the medallion tapped some of your abilities and because the spell has weakened, your talents are emerging.”

  “Sir, do you need me to call an ambulance?” the clerk asked, worried.

  Helping her to her feet, Rathe shook his head. “No, she’s fine. Migraines.” He pulled out his wallet and paid for the beer and pop. Keep the change.”

  Terrible pressure in her upper teeth made her wince. Running her tongue across her teeth, she stopped when she thought she felt the sharp tip of a fang. Crap! Rathe snatched the beer and pop in one hand, and guided her out of the store.

  He helped her into the car and handed her their purchases. She took one of the beers and twisted off the cap. Drinking it down, she didn’t stop until it was empty. Pulling down the vanity mirror, she checked her teeth. No fangs. Sighing in relief, she kept quiet when Rathe got in, and they drove away. She handed him a beer and opened another for herself.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “Which part?” she asked. “The ability to hear people and feel their emotions or the part where I wanted to attack the clerk and suck his blood out?”

  “Look at me!” Using his fingers, he pulled back her lips and checked her teeth. How he was able to do that and drive straight, she wasn’t sure. “You’re fine now. How about the voices?”

  “Gone.”

  “Has that ever happened before?”

  “Yeah, right before the redneck vampires attacked me. I heard them whispering.”

  She straightened, clutching the beer bottle tight in her hand when she heard the Gypsy woman’s heavily-accented voice say, “Never remove the medallion, child. It protects you, keeps you hidden from him and the Damned. He will never be able to find you as long you wear it. Forgive me, but I must hide your true nature deep within you, your abilities will lay dormant, until you are ready — when you are strong enough to face him!”

  “Holy shit!” she exclaimed, stunned at the memory.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just …too much happening to me.” Why didn’t she tell him what she heard? No, it was too much to deal with.

  “Why don’t you try to rest?”

  From within her mind, she felt the familiar beckoning, as if someone was encouraging her to sleep. “I’ve something I want to show you. Close your eyes and dream.” Unable to tell if it were a man or woman, she set the beer bottle in the cardboard holder and lay down on the bench seat, using Rathe’s thigh as a pillow. When she felt Rathe’s hand sweep along her hair, she closed her eyes and did as the voice ordered.

  Smoke.

  Screams and shouts were deafening. The villagers had them surrounded. Her lover ordered, “My love, run!”


  “No! We swore to live and die together.”

  “You must live for our child.”

  Desperate, she searched for a way they both could escape. Out of the darkness, ran at them a huge wolf with golden-brown fur and green eyes. It leapt into the midst of the villagers and tore out the throats of two men, opening a way for them to escape. She turned to her lover and he pushed her into the arms of a tall man, whose green eyes glowed in his anger. She gasped as he snarled, exposing his fangs.

  Vampyre!

  “Aidan, let us leave here,” the vampyre shouted, easily tossing people out of his way as he kept his hold on her.

  “Save her! Protect her and my child.” Aidan slammed his fist into the face of the man rushing him.

  She glared at the vampyre. “I will not leave Aidan to die alone.”

  “He is already a dead man.” Sweeping her into his arms, the vampyre flew into the air, taking her away from Aidan.

  Fighting him, she screamed at him to return her to Aidan. He ignored her. When they landed outside the village, he set her down on her feet. She yelled at him, “How could you abandon Aidan like that? Have you no heart?”

  He said softly, his anger barely restrained, “Not another word, human. If not for the blood running through your veins and my friendship with Aidan, I’d have let you die with him.”

  “Gypsy blood?”

  Her father approached them. “He has a covenant with our people. We are bound to him, as he is to us.” To the vampyre, he bowed respectfully to. “My lord, I cannot repay you enough for saving my daughter.”

  Hard-faced, the vampyre said gruffly, “Get in the car I brought you and drive it to Budapest. I will meet you there with passports. You’re leaving Hungary.” To her, he sighed and gentled his touch as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Care for your child and love it for Aidan. If it should survive its birth, be vigilant. Your child will be hunted by those who want to kill it, or worse, take it from you.”

  “Who would want to harm an innocent child?”

  With regret and anger shining in those mesmerizing green eyes, he withdrew his hand. “The Slayers will seek to judge the child, for being a dhampir — a half-breed, and see it dead. As well as the dhampir’s parents. Vampire hunters will want the child to raise it and train it to kill my kind.” The vampyre warned, “Ivan, trust no one and do not stop until you are at the place I told you to meet me.”