Once Burned np-1
Page 22
I hadn’t been aware of closing my eyes, but as some point, I must have. I slit them open, my breath catching. Vlad’s hair plastered to his shoulders in wet, dark sections, his muscles bunched with every moan-inducing thrust, and his eyes blazed so brightly that it was like looking at the sun. That stare held me more securely than his arm under my hips as he turned my hand over and then bit into the fleshy mound beneath my thumb.
The sound that came from me was almost animalistic. That was how he made me feel—feral, uninhibited—and as heat slid down my arm to slowly spread through the rest of me, those feelings grew. I needed more of his bite, his touch, his body, and especially the fierce emotion in his gaze as he swallowed my blood, and I needed it now.
That was why I whimpered in protest when, all too soon, he withdrew his fangs and released my hand.
“Your turn,” he said throatily.
Then he bit into his wrist deep enough to leave a gash before holding it to my mouth. Still lost in that primordial state, I swallowed without hesitation, not minding the harsh coppery taste because it was his blood. I licked until every drop was gone and the wound closed on itself. Once it did, he bit his wrist again. This time, I was the one who pulled it to my lips, sucking strongly as I stared at him.
The smile he flashed me was lust at its most savage. His movements became harder, faster, turning my moans into sharp cries. When his wound closed a second time, I let his wrist go and yanked his head down to mine. His tongue invaded my mouth with the same sensual brutality as his thrusts, and I met both with equal fervor. If he hadn’t positioned his hands behind my head and hips, the tile behind me might have cracked from how fiercely he drove into me, but I didn’t care. His blood slid like fire through my veins, filling me with even more wildness. Nothing existed except this moment, and as my whole body shuddered from the overload of ecstasy, I didn’t even notice the cold anymore. All I felt was heat, inside and out.
Chapter 37
I’d assumed Vlad would accompany me on every scouting mission, but he didn’t. Sometimes, he sent me to one vampire’s house while he went to another and brought back items for me to touch. It took me days to figure out why. He was sending me to allies least likely to betray him, taking on the riskier vampires himself. In that way, he kept his promise to broaden the search for Marty while still protecting me from situations he considered too dangerous.
It was annoying and touching at the same time, adding further chaos to my already tumultuous emotions. If Vlad was the heartless creature he made himself out to be, he’d utilize me to his best advantage by throwing me into the most perilous situations. But he didn’t. Which was the real Vlad? The one whose heart was forever out of reach, or the man who seemed to prize my safety more than the quickest path to vengeance?
I pondered that as the black SUV I was in came to a stop outside a set of tall iron gates. Maximus drove, Shrapnel rode shotgun, and I was alone in the backseat. Another SUV filled with six additional guards followed closely behind us. We were fifteen minutes from Oradea, Romania, but to look around, you wouldn’t guess that a bustling city was nearby. This gate was tucked inside thick woods, the long gravel road leading to it nearly invisible from the turnoff—assuming you found the secluded road leading to that. The owner of this property either liked his privacy or he hated having unexpected visitors, which was exactly what the three of us were.
Maximus rolled down his window and pressed a button on the metal console that jutted out a few feet from the ground. I couldn’t hear a camera zooming in on his rugged features, but I had no doubt that his image was being transmitted.
“Vlad Tepesh küldöttei Gabriel Tolvai—hoz jöttek,” he stated.
I only recognized the name. Gabriel Tolvai, an ally of Vlad’s that, as per usual, he didn’t suspect of being in league with Szilagyi. Still, it was one more name to cross off a list, even if Tolvai lived in a secluded area where the closest neighbors seemed to be of the animal variety.
The tall gates slid open and we drove through them. After we traveled the length of a football field, Maximus pulled up to a stately, two-story white house with ochre-colored trim. The old world architecture looked like an aesthetic choice rather than the home’s actual age, and while the house was large, it was still less than a fourth the size of Vlad’s home.
Two bearded guards carrying automatic weapons stood by what looked like the main entrance. Since this was a vampire residence, I guessed the big guns were filled with silver bullets instead of lead. Maximus and Shrapnel didn’t seem concerned. When we got out of the car, they didn’t even look at the guards who held open the double doors for us, so I mimicked their aloof demeanor. Our other armed escort got out but stayed by the vehicles, their presence as threatening as it was silent. In my usual pattern, once I crossed the threshold into Tolvai’s house, I began to recite the worst songs the eighties had to offer. No way would I risk running into another mind reader unprepared.
A slender boy with russet-colored hair walked down the hall toward us. He wore jeans, sneakers, and a black jacket slung over an Ed Hardy T-shirt. He didn’t even look old enough to drink in the States, so I was surprised when Maximus and Shrapnel inclined their heads at him.
“Greetings from our sire, Tolvai,” Maximus said formally.
Tolvai responded with a burst of dialog that I didn’t understand a word of. It wasn’t Romanian—I’d gotten better at recognizing certain words in that language—but my confusion was cut short when Shrapnel held up a hand.
“Vlad requests that you speak English in front of his guest so she understands everything that is being said.”
“Is that right?” Tolvai replied, the words richly accented.
Amber eyes swept over me. Once I stared into them, I didn’t know how I’d ever mistaken Tolvai for someone younger than me. The weight of centuries reflected in those jewel-colored eyes, and the way his gaze raked me from facial scar to shoes said that a human was less than worthless to him.
“If Vlad wishes, I shall repeat myself,” Tolvai said, smiling at me the way a great white shark would at a plump seal. “What has happened that Vlad sent his most senior guards to my house without even a phone call to inform me of their coming?”
“Recently, four vampires set fire to one of Vlad’s businesses in southern Suceava,” Maximus stated. “Three of the perpetrators were killed, but one escaped. Vlad is asking all of his allies to assist him in finding this last arsonist.”
The barest smile touched Tolvai’s lips. “Of course I will offer my assistance. Any attack on a vampire’s territory must be swiftly avenged lest his enemies take it as a sign of weakness.”
I was surprised by the veiled taunt. Tolvai hadn’t been on Vlad’s suspect list, but maybe he should reconsider. Shrapnel also didn’t seem to appreciate the subtext. His glare could have burned holes into Tolvai’s deceptively young-looking features, but the vampire didn’t show the slightest amount of concern. In fact, when his gaze dipped dismissively to me again, either he was loyal—albeit sarcastic—or word of what I could do hadn’t spread to him yet.
Both were put to the test when Shrapnel said in a mild tone, “Then you won’t mind if Leila touches a few things in your home.”
Tolvai’s expression registered confusion, but not alarm. “Miért? But why?” he amended in English.
“Because Vlad asks you to,” was Maximus’s reply.
Anyone could discern the challenge wrapped in the large vampire’s silky tone. Tolvai’s lips tightened, and if it weren’t for those ancient eyes, he’d have resembled a teenager about to have a full-on temper tantrum. For several tense moments, I wondered if he’d refuse. But then he swept out his hand.
“If Vlad wishes, then she may do so. But to quote the American saying, if she breaks anything, she buys it.”
I glanced at Maximus and Shrapnel as I took off my right glove. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
“Anything like what?” Tolvai asked sharply. “Do you suggest that I am involved
with this arsonist?”
“Of course not.” Butter wouldn’t have melted in Shrapnel’s cool reply. “But wouldn’t you want to know if one of your people went behind your back and broke truce with Vlad?”
I walked farther down the hall, letting the vampires handle this power contest themselves. After a tense silence, Tolvai bit out, “Vlad and I will have words about this.” Then he swept past me in a blur, disappearing up the staircase. If I were a vampire, I imagined the scent of his anger at having his home searched would have clogged my nostrils.
I glanced back at Maximus and Shrapnel, shrugged, and then continued on my way. They knew by now that I concentrated better if they didn’t hover over me. Tolvai’s entrance hall wasn’t nearly as impressive as Vlad’s, but I liked the pastel palette more than Vlad’s tendency toward darker, gothic colors. I detoured at the first room, an elegant lounge with a white marble fireplace and ceilings three times as high as I was tall.
Once inside, I ignored the fancy figurines or other objets d’art. Years of training myself on what not to touch made it easy to choose the most essence-heavy objects. Despite their high traffic level, light switches and lamps were out of the question, but that left doorknobs, handles of any kind, drawers, armrests, pens, glasses, and the like. After I handled various objects that showed images of feeding, sex, and some harsh discipline of Tolvai’s staff, I moved on to the next room. Then the next one. Maximus and Shrapnel stayed in the hallway, allowing me my space while the constant collision of memories versus reality made me feel like I was on a vivid acid trip.
I had just stroked a sunshine-colored couch in the fourth room when the lounge dissolved, turning into bare concrete walls with a single wooden door. Two vampires I recognized were inside. One was nailed to the wall with silver, the other typing on an iPad while seated on a bed of furs.
Szilagyi cocked his head and then rose. I’d been mentally singing as a defense against any mind readers in Tolvai’s house, and the lyrics had announced my invisible presence before I could disconnect.
“My little psychic spy, I wondered when you would return,” Szilagyi purred. Then he walked over to Marty and a knife appeared in his hand as if by magic. “You’ve missed some of the fun, but not all of it.”
You don’t need to hurt him, I thought, willing to say anything to stop what I knew was about to happen. I, ah, already want to switch sides.
Szilagyi gave me a smile so hard that it could cause ice to fracture. “If that’s true, then why are you blocking your thoughts behind that song . . . Leila?”
I ignored his use of my real name. As Vlad said, it was only a matter of time until Szilagyi picked up my paper trail.
There could be other mind readers here, I improvised. If so, they can’t pick up all my thoughts under the music, but I’m risking my life contacting you and that should show I’m serious.
Szilagyi didn’t know I’d connected to him accidentally, but his essence on the armrest had been so strong, it had acted like an instant messaging system.
“Ah.” Szilagyi appeared to mull that. Then, “Why did you abandon your loyalty to Tepesh? You seemed very staunch in it the last time we spoke.”
I cast about for any reason he might believe. Things changed since then. You told me Vlad was faking nice, and you were right.
The best lies were steeped in truth, Marty had once told me. I seized on that and continued, hiding my thoughts behind those endlessly repeating lyrics.
Vlad even seduced me to get me emotionally attached to him, but since the first day he brought me to his house, he’s had people monitoring my family. When you kidnapped Marty, he grabbed them to use as ammunition against me. Still, joke’s on him because my family and I have been estranged for years. Marty’s the only one I care about. That’s why I snuck something of yours with me and contacted you as soon as I got here.
“And where is here, Leila?” Szilagyi asked smoothly.
My lies had worked too well, and now they’d trapped me. I paused. Szilagyi ran a hand along Marty’s face in a mockery of a caress. Marty said nothing, but he gave the faintest shake of his head. Even after everything Szilagyi had done to him—and was about to do—he didn’t want to me to tell Szilagyi. He truly was the most loyal friend I had.
Despite this, I couldn’t betray Vlad, not to mention get Maximus and Shrapnel killed by answering Szilagyi because they wouldn’t let him take me without a fight. I can’t tell you, I thought while my stomach felt like it twisted into knots.
Szilagyi clucked his tongue. “How unfortunate.”
Then his knife flashed out. Marty doubled over as much as his restraints allowed. Something thick and red hit the ground.
Stop! I mentally roared.
“I will when you tell me where you are,” Szi-lagyi countered. His knife kept flashing. More gore splattered to the floor and Marty screamed in a way that would haunt my nightmares.
I can’t! I replied with another mental bellow. Maximus and Shrapnel are with me. If you come, they’ll kill me before they allow you to take me.
“Maximus and Shrapnel?” That made Szilagyi pause, but not in fear. In obvious delight. Clearly I’d just added a cherry to the already yummy sundae of my situation.
Yes, and if they realize they’re outnumbered, they’ll kill me, I repeated, seeking a reason that would dissuade him. I’m no good to you dead, so give me a little time. Vlad’s sending me all over the place, as you may have heard. I’ll contact you as soon as circumstances are better.
Szilagyi spun away from Marty to stare at what would have been eye level to me if I’d actually been there.
“All right,” he said.
I was so surprised by his capitulation that my mind briefly went blank. “But if you’re lying to me,” he went on, “your friend will experience such pain that hell will be a relief once I finally kill him.”
My lack of belief in heaven or hell didn’t prevent me from shuddering at the threat. I’m not lying. I’ll contact you as soon as I’m under less heavy guard. Vlad’s already getting lax by letting me go out without him.
Fear for Marty made every mental syllable ring with the illusion of truth. After a long moment, Szilagyi gave me another frosty smile.
“You have a week to contact me with a location to collect you. Otherwise, your friend will suffer for your betrayal.”
Got it, I thought, stuffing down my doubts over how I’d pull that off.
His dark brown stare seemed to reach into my soul. “Then I’ll hear from you soon, Leila.”
I dropped the link and sank to my knees, still blasting away songs from an era where rockers had longer hair than their girlfriends. That awful gray room was replaced by shades of pale blue, yellow, and peach, the tall windows letting in the radiance of a sunny winter’s day. Fear that I’d just condemned Marty to a terrible death battled with determination. You can do this, I chanted to myself. Someone at Tolvai’s had a connection to Szilagyi. We’d find out who, Vlad would interrogate the hell out of him, and we’d find Szilagyi’s location and save Marty in time. I kept repeating it until I forced myself to believe it.
The attack came less than twenty minutes later.
Chapter 38
I was still searching Tolvai’s house to see if I could determine who he’d been in collusion with when the first window shattered. I knew better than to assume anything benign caused it, so I ran to look for Maximus and Shrapnel. In the seconds it took me to see them in the entrance hallway, the house was under a full-scale assault.
Glass exploded inward as vampires crashed through multiple windows, converging on the two men in the hallway. More violent sounds came from outside, too, and gunfire made me instinctively hit the floor. Once there, I froze, not sure if I should try to help, or if I’d only get in their way. My decision was taken away when suddenly I was snatched up from behind, my right wrist held in an iron grip. Whoever grabbed me cursed from the voltage he absorbed, but I couldn’t hit him with my full power. I couldn’t even connect to Vlad and
tell him of the attack because my hand was immobilized.
Then a voice hissed in heavily accented English, “Quit struggling! Szilagyi has ordered me to protect you.”
Tolvai. It wasn’t one of his people who were in league with Szilagyi. It was him. No wonder Szi-lagyi had capitulated so easily at my refusal to tell him where I was. Tolvai hadn’t stormed off in ire over his house being searched, but to message Szi-lagyi about his unexpected visitors. That’s how he’d known where to attack. When I first saw Szi-lagyi typing away on his iPad, he’d probably been ordering the assault.
Tolvai hustled me up the stairs and into an upper bedroom closet. Meanwhile, the battle sounds continued. From the shouts and how the walls and floors shook, Szilagyi had attacked with overwhelming force. Maximus, Shrapnel, and the other guards wouldn’t have a chance. Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to face my enemy crying. I waited, hoping Tolvai’s grip on my wrist would let up enough for me to do something, but it never did.
When the shouts and tremors finally stopped, the silence drowned me in a tidal wave of dread. Were Maximus and Shrapnel still alive? Then a man’s voice called out, of course not in English. Tolvai responded in the same language, and he sounded relieved.
“What?” I asked.
He didn’t reply, which was no surprise, but he did move away as though being in close proximity to me had been distasteful. Before I could snap a current at him or connect to Vlad, an ominously familiar person appeared in front of me.
“Hello again,” purred the silver-haired vampire who’d left me to die in a burning club.
I didn’t see his fist. Only felt the explosion of pain that darkness quickly snuffed out.
I had no idea how long I was out, but I awoke with a chemical taste in my mouth and ropes digging into my wrists and ankles. No shocker there, but my head wasn’t pounding, which did surprise me until I remembered how much of Vlad’s blood I’d been drinking recently. That would accelerate my healing. It wouldn’t help with the biting cold temperature, however. Immediately, my teeth began to chatter, but before another thought could cross my mind, I began to recite the lyrics to Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy.” Not an eighties song, but sufficiently irritating on endless repeat.