Venom & Vampires: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Casey Lane

  I accepted the wash things with a small smile, rolling up my sleeves and wiping my hands and face with the cloth he’d provided.

  “Why are they bothering to send this when they’re killing me tomorrow?” I asked.

  “They aren’t. I brought them myself,” he said quietly, looking at his feet.

  I scooted back on the bench, patting the seat beside me. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness. You being here today.”

  He snorted. “Small comfort. Your killer’s lackey holding your hand until she—”

  Yeah, I knew what he meant.

  “You don’t have a choice, Alec,” I whispered.

  He looked at me, frowning. “I don’t?”

  “Because your life isn’t the only one in your hands,” I said. It wasn’t like he needed the reminder, but he still clenched his fists in anger.

  “She won’t accept me, but I’ll never be rid of her. My mistress ensured that when she took me,” he said cryptically.

  I relaxed back against the barren wall and kicked my legs up. “Tell me about her—tell me about your signasti,” I said. “I promise to take it to my grave,” I added, lifting my hand to my chest. It was the sort of dark humour I would’ve usually saved for Oliver, but he wasn’t there. Thankfully, it wasn’t lost on Alec.

  He allowed himself a smirk. “We met a year and a half ago, just before I turned eighteen and Anastasia came to claim me. I still remember the look on her face when I approached her from the other side of the cafeteria. She didn’t know who I was, but she liked what she saw. Her face lit up like my own little sun, because even though she couldn’t feel it yet, I knew she was mine.” His voice was wistful, but his eyes showed the pain of her loss.

  I listened intently as he told me of his lost love.

  “Her name is Blair. She was only fifteen at the time, barely old enough to manifest, let alone feel the pull of a signasti animam. I knew who she was, though. The moment I saw her sitting there, it was like the world aligned. She’s my other half, the one and only person my heart will ever beat for after I laid eyes on her.” His voice changed, becoming hard, clipped as he continued. The memories becoming painful to recall.

  “What did you say to her?” I asked, wanting to see that brilliant gold flare to life even if the line between them didn’t.

  “You won’t believe it. I walked right up to her, got down on one knee, and asked her if she’d marry me. Her mouth formed this little ‘O’ and her friends all giggled away, but she just looked at me and said, ‘How about dinner first?’ I was so fucking ecstatic, I nearly swept her up right then, wanting to take her away…but she was fifteen, so I waited.”

  I giggled, imagining a fifteen-year-old girl with a pretty face shutting him down. Most species knew when they found their other halves, and half-breeds were especially sensitive to it—but Supernaturals rarely felt the bond without the claiming.

  “Then what happened?” I prompted, propelling his story forward.

  “I nearly went out of my mind wanting to see her again, but my brother told me to wait. She didn’t understand yet, and I certainly wasn’t claiming her when she wasn’t even seventeen. I needed to take my time, get to know her, treat her like a queen.” He spoke so raptly, engulfed in his own story, that I doubt he even saw my face. It was nice, knowing who he was and what had driven him here—like my story, though, I knew this had no happy ending.

  “I took her out to dinner the next night. A picnic. I didn’t know what she liked, but I figured some of everything was a good start. I went to her room, picked her up, and we were on our way. It was the single best night of my life. Hands down. We spent the entire night together, sundown to sunup. I was sneaking her back into her room when my roommates called me, wondering where the hell I’d gone. Turns out my very own claiming was already happening. Anastasia Fortescue arrived at Daizlei that morning to fulfil my family’s oath.” His voice turned bitter, almost angry.

  I would’ve been too. The oath was an archaic tradition the Supernatural society still clung to. Families gave up their firstborn just before the age of eighteen, basically selling them into servitude to the Council in exchange for favour. House Fortescue always got first pick.

  “She took you away,” I said as the reality of his prison took form.

  He laughed callously, sorrow seeping into his voice like the first day of winter. “I wish all she did was take me away. I could fix that one day, if I was ever relieved of my duty. Instead, she showed up like some wraith from hell, and I begged her to take my brother instead. I threw my honour away, my family’s honour, on the slight chance she would transfer the birthright. He didn’t want it, though, and she was all the more amused when she realised I’d just found my signasti. She felt it made me more ‘pliant’.”

  My heart ached for him, knowing we were coming to the crux of the story. The reason his bond was so thin, so irreparably damaged.

  “She said I was hers, that no one would keep me from her, and that if I wanted Blair to live, I had to claim her,” he explained in a trembling voice. “Our bond protects me from Anastasia’s mind control…and because Blair took that control from her, I had to take something from Blair.”

  His eyes glazed over. I almost told him to stop, that whatever he had to tell me wasn’t worth the pain. I knew it was, though, because I’d never seen a bond as frail as his. Weak, dull, but still there…

  “I was to take her out and—and…” He broke into muttering, stuck on the one and only syllable he could utter.

  I reached out to touch his shoulder, but it was like I wasn’t there. “What did she make you do, Alec?” I asked softly. My voice broke the trance, just long enough for him to see my steady gaze.

  “I...I forced myself on— I claimed her.”

  No.

  My mind couldn’t process what he was telling me. That even Anastasia would do that…but of course she would. Rape. Murder. Pillage and plunder. It was all the same to her. But Alec…what did I say to that? How did I tell him it would ever get better, that she would forgive him, knowing it wasn’t true?

  “Why?” It was the only thing I could get out, but I couldn’t look at this boy before me and see a monster, not when the real demon had caused it.

  “It was that or Anastasia would kill her. My options were to take her or lose her forever. If I did as Anastasia wanted then she would be ‘left in peace as long as I behaved’.”

  He ran his hands over his face, as though trying to wipe the memory away. Even with everything I’d done, I’d never been placed in a situation that caused such self-loathing. He hadn’t wanted to touch her—he’d said it himself—and certainly not by force.

  It was no wonder their connection was so strained; he’d damaged their bond so far beyond repair that there was nothing he could do.

  “Alec, you didn’t have a choice. Not really,” I whispered. I scooted to the edge of the seat to hold his hand and offer the only comfort I knew how to give.

  “She’ll never look at me the same way again, and I don’t blame her,” he said.

  Had he even noticed my efforts? Judging by the faraway look clouding his eyes, I presumed not.

  “You saved her life. Even if she never knows the truth, you bought her another day with her family and friends. You saved them the grief of losing a sister, a daughter, a best friend. And she still has you, Alec. House Fortescue may have taken her love for you, but they can’t take your love for her. They can’t take your bond. If not in this lifetime then the next,” I said softly. I pulled myself up on my knees, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

  Here we were. A girl on death row for a murder she hadn’t committed, and a boy forced to commit a horrific act to save a life. Our world was an odd place. A terrible place. It was sad and lonely, and the Supernaturals who ruled it could be downright evil at times. Today was my last day on earth, and I was happy to spend it with the boy in my arms. My new, broken friend.

  “How can you say that, Johanna, knowing what I’ve done?�
�� he croaked hoarsely, his voice breaking in a rasp.

  “Because I know you. You’re the boy who brought me food when I was hungry. Who brought me clothes because the only ones I had were covered in my best friend’s blood. You waited outside so I could bathe, and you kept me company on my last day. You told me about your signasti, and you’ve tried to shield me from the trial because you knew my fate. You are not the monster here, Alec. You never were.” I whispered the words into his straw-coloured hair. I couldn’t protect him from the light of tomorrow, but I could hold him here, right now.

  “I won’t be there when they do it,” he said after a while, shrugging a shoulder.

  I eased back onto the bench, accepting the dismissal. “I understand,” I murmured. I didn’t blame him if he couldn’t watch another die by Anastasia’s hands. I wasn’t the first, and I wouldn’t be the last.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to be there for you. My sister and her friend have been attacked. I have to go question the girl who saved them,” he said wearily.

  “How was she attacked?” I asked, a creeping feeling making its way across my cool skin.

  “Vampires. She’s bound to blame you for the attack, saying you ruined any chance for a truce the night Jayma died.” He didn’t see the significance behind his words, didn’t possess the knowledge to piece together the jewels of information he’d just given me. No one outside of the rebellion knew the reason Jayma and I had been there.

  “Who’s the other girl, the one you have to question?” I asked.

  He twisted his hand in the air, a nonchalant motion if ever there was one. “Selena Foster. The girl’s nearly as infamous as you at this point. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.” He leaned back against the wall, oblivious to the lightbulb going off in my mind.

  I nodded slowly, trying not to show my cards, even if I never got to tell a soul. “She’s the telekinetic, from America?” I asked, hope filling my chest.

  Maybe the world wasn’t over just yet. Maybe there was some way to get the news back to them.

  “She is. Brutal girl. I saw her box last year with my twat brother. She just about killed him with a hit to the chest. It has the Council all worked up. My mistress wants her out of the picture.” He rolled his eyes, and after the story he’d just told, I understood why he had trouble getting close to anyone. You never knew who your next target might be, even if that target may have been the saviour you were waiting for.

  “I believe that,” I said slowly.

  He turned his head a fraction of an inch, his eyes flaring gold as he picked up on the note in my voice. “You know something.” It wasn’t a question.

  Dragon knows, the grave doesn’t talk.

  “You’ve no idea,” I said with a mirthless laugh. “Be careful, Alec. Remember your honour.”

  He leaned forward, hands on his legs as he debated whatever was chewing at him. “I will miss you, Johanna, however short our friendship’s been. Whoever this dragon is, I hope he takes care of you in whatever comes after this.” He stood, holding out a hand to pull me up. I took it, wrapping my arms around his waist, knowing that this was the last friendly touch I would ever feel.

  “Be ready. They’re coming for you,” he whispered.

  My body went stock still as he held me for a moment longer before pulling away.

  “Thank you, Alec. For everything.”

  The sad look in his eyes wasn’t faked, but there was a glint of hope there too. A gleam of determination. He was willing me to live, and in doing so, getting himself tangled in the net of a sinking ship.

  I hoped his message was worth it—not for my sake, but his. I hoped the girl he loved didn’t die for this small act of defiance. I hoped he found happiness, despite his dark past. We probably wouldn’t see each other again, but maybe my life here wasn’t done. Maybe the dragon had more plans for me yet.

  “If you ever need me…” I said quietly, unable to finish as a lump filled my throat.

  He stroked my hair. “I know how to find you. Be careful.”

  With a watery smile, I watched him leave.

  Be ready. They’re coming for you.

  Oliver had told me three days’ time. This was it. Live or die, I would be ready.

  May the dragon wish it. May the Mother be with us.

  Chapter Ten

  Alec’s story haunted me all day and night. That he’d been forced to go to such lengths, to make his signasti hate him so completely, just to save her life…it was terrifying. What these people did to maintain their grip was barbaric. Their methods to enforce their rule had to stop, and now I had the name of the girl who could make it happen.

  The guard who brought my evening meal was even more terrified than the one who’d delivered my breakfast. On the eve of my death, they expected a final attempt at winning my freedom. I was sorry to disappoint. Oliver had said he would handle it. Alec had confirmed. My friends, my rebellion was coming for me. To make a move now would hamper their plans, so I waited.

  After forcing the meal down, I lay back on the metal bench one last time and listened for the sound of footsteps.

  I fell out of meditation at a strange noise coming from outside my door.

  Guards changing over. It must be late evening, I thought and closed my eyes.

  There it is again.

  I wasn’t imagining it this time. There should’ve been footsteps retreating along the corridor. There should’ve been the murmured conversation of the two guards at my door. It was the same every night.

  I scrambled to my feet as a key turned in the lock of the solid steel door. With his usual nonchalant gait, Oliver stepped into the cell, allowing the door to swing wide. My breath hitched in my throat as his glowing eyes found mine.

  “Don’t just stand there, JoJo,” he said, extending a hand. “We have a plane to catch.”

  “How?” I asked, blinking at the open door. “Where are the guards?”

  “There’s been a disturbance on one of the upper levels. We don’t have long,” he explained, tugging me out into the corridor. “Scarlett and Seb are keeping them busy. We have about five minutes. Take the lift.”

  He’d held the doors with a small piece of wood that he kicked aside as he forced them to fully open. I stepped inside, facing the doors, and prepared myself for a fight.

  “You aren’t fighting, Jo. You’re running. We don’t have time to take anyone down. That plane can’t wait any longer. Run, and don’t let go of my hand. I can deflect the attacks. Okay?”

  I nodded and squeezed his hand as the doors slid shut.

  “How did you pull this off?” I hissed, finally able to speak.

  “Friends in low places are helpful.” He grinned. “Your new friend particularly so.”

  Oliver gave me a curious look as I smiled. “What?” I asked, glancing at the red arrow above the door.

  “How did you find him?”

  “I didn’t. He came to me. Alec is one of us. He’s just…stuck.”

  The lift slowed, cutting our conversation short, and I prepared myself to run.

  Oliver gripped my hand tighter as the doors swept open and hauled me into the ground floor entrance hall of the mansion.

  Finding my feet, I kept pace, our footsteps thundering on the marble floors. The hall stretched the entire length of the building, and was strangely deserted.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked as we hurtled towards the magnificent glass-paned doors ahead.

  “Other end of the building handling the twins. The others will meet us on the plane,” he panted.

  As we approached the doors, one of them swung open. Oliver skidded to a halt, releasing my hand as he prepared to fight. “Shit…”

  “Don’t stop, moron!” Alec barked. “Move!”

  He held the door open, allowing us to pass. Pausing, I touched his arm gently and said, “Alec…thank you.”

  “Keep moving. Be careful,” he said quietly, his golden eyes searching mine.

  “Don’t give up hope, Alec. Th
e People of the East are with you,” I added as Oliver grasped my hand again and broke into a run. “Go to her!” I called over my shoulder, following his lead.

  “Where?” I panted, as the mansion fell away behind us.

  “Not far. I hope the twins are on their way. We’ve no time to wait for them. Maestri better be putting on the show of his life out there.”

  We rounded a line of pristine hedgerows to see a landing strip not far ahead, and a passenger jet waiting, ready for take-off.

  As two figures disappeared into the plane, I scanned the area, listening for signs of pursuing guards, and allowed myself a sigh of relief when all I could see and hear was the jet and its whining engines.

  We sped up the steps that formed the open entry door and into the safety of the plane as I looked around wildly for signs of our friends.

  “Master Fortier,” Anastasia Fortescue’s silvery voice rang in greeting. “Your father will be so very disappointed.” She clicked her tongue in dismay as two guards grabbed us from behind.

  “Not nearly as disappointed as I am in his blind worship of you,” he spat through gritted teeth, keeping up the charade. There was no reason to bring them down too.

  I clenched my fists, knowing a fight when I saw one. This could only go one of two ways.

  “Leave them be, Anastasia,” I growled, looking at the twins who were fighting just behind her. “This isn’t about them.”

  “On the contrary, Miss Kozak,” she sang in a saccharine voice. “This is entirely about them. All hope of ruining us died with your family name in the fire, but the rest of them? They were sneakier. Smarter. But all of you traitors share one fatal flaw, Miss Kozak. You care too much.”