“You fear death,” he said. “You fear being maimed, but I can save you from that, Cassidy DiRocco. Trust in me, and I will give you eternity.”
“First you warn me against trusting you. Now you’re coaxing me to trust you. You don’t know what you really want from me, but it doesn’t matter because whatever it is, I don’t want it,” I snapped, but if he could smell my fear beneath the bravado, really, what was the point of pretending? I sighed. “I don’t want eternity. I don’t want anything you have to give me.”
Dominic laughed suddenly. “I know exactly what I want from you. It’s you, I believe, who is conflicted. You can’t possibly think to win against Kaden alone.”
“I won’t be alone.”
His body stilled. “Ah, you think that without me, you’ll still have your friend, the night blood. Do you trust him, Cassidy? Do you trust him like you can’t trust me?”
“He would never use me as bait for his own purposes. You saved me because you think I’m useful to you, but he saved me simply because I needed saving.”
“You think he’s selfless and that makes him trustworthy?”
“I can’t trust someone who would risk my life for his own gain. That’s not what friends do.”
“But you’ve remained friends with him even after he used you for his gain. He used you to find my coven,” Dominic said coldly.
I stared him down, but with his strange blue and white eyes and carefully veiled expression, I couldn’t read anything except for my own hesitation in the reflection from his irises. Their depths didn’t pull at my will this time. I jerked my eyes away and focused on the wall behind his shoulder. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He knew you were in grave danger as you walked home from the precinct, but he allowed Kaden and the others to attack you. He anticipated it, knowing they’d recognize the taste of your blood, but he assumed they’d take you back to their Master, to me, to transform you. In normal circumstances they would have, but Walker doesn’t know about the rebellion. He assumed he’d be able to track you back to the coven before you died.”
I stared at him, shocked that he’d referred to Walker by name. “How do you know Walker?”
Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Ask him yourself.”
I shook my head in denial. “You’re wrong. He didn’t know I was a night blood at the time.”
“He knew enough to assume,” Dominic dismissed. “You were the only one of all the witnesses I entranced who still believed the bodies had bite marks, and you were ignorant enough to let everyone know that you remembered.” He tutted again, and it sparked my temper. “Oh, I’m sure he pieced the puzzle together.”
I felt my anger wash over me in a bright red tsunami. “He had no way of knowing that vampires would attack me. And even if he had, Kaden would’ve killed me, not brought me to you. Walker would not risk my life just to find your coven!”
“Yes, he would, and he did. In any other circumstance, Kaden would have brought you to me. At any other time of year, my vampires would have brought you back to the coven to complete your transformation. Your night blood took a risk, but if it hadn’t been for me, it wouldn’t have paid off.”
“No,” I insisted. “Walker wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? Because he saved you? So have I. Maybe you should acquaint yourself with the facts before deciding whom to trust. We’ve both used you for our own gain, but only I can guarantee your safety.”
“Who will guarantee my safety from you?” I pushed back from him, scared that he was right about Walker but certain that I was right about him.
His fang sliced into my neck from my own movement. Its razor edge stung, but it wasn’t pain from the cut that raised goose bumps down my arms; it was the hiss that rattled from his chest. The noise, this time, was all vampire. I felt blood drip down the side of my neck, and Dominic’s slick tongue flicked over its path.
“Cassidy DiRocco,” he growled roughly, “look into my eyes.”
I felt the overwhelming, desperate urge to look, like my entire body ached to drown in his gaze. “No!” I screamed. “You can’t—”
Dominic’s mouth covered mine, muffling my screams. His lips were cold and demanding, forcing my mouth to remain open against the threat of his fangs. I struggled away from him, but he was too strong and too experienced. He wrapped an arm around the curve of my back, pulled me from the chair, and held my body immobile against the length of his with one hand. He grasped my chin roughly with the other hand, limiting my options to either shrieking ineffectively against his mouth or taking the kiss. The first was a waste of energy, and although the second was unwelcome, my mind was still my own. I would rather kiss him than look into his eyes and lose myself again, so I closed my eyes and took it.
He seemed to sense my reluctant acquiescence because the pressure of his lips lightened. I still couldn’t move and I could barely breathe, but his mouth found a rhythm, an invitation that gave more than it took. A strange heat built between his cold, sleek body and mine. The heat was a pressure against my chest, urging me forward, and he must have felt its burning encouragement, too. His hands tightened roughly on my waist, and I wanted more. He might have stolen the kiss at first, but he offered more now. Unlike when he’d bitten me last night, Dominic actually invited my participation, and God help me, I responded. I kissed him back.
My lips moved against his, soft and languid at first, tentative because I’d never liked the unexpected. His left hand kept a firm hold on my chin and the other roamed over my back, moving slowly farther and farther down until his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my pants. I felt the light brush of his touch against my hip, and instinctually, I pressed closer. He took my response as the permission it was and deepened the kiss. He angled his head to swipe his tongue against mine. I moaned into his mouth, and he pressed deeper, ruthless and untamed. I could feel my heart physically pound against my chest from need and want and heat this time instead of fear. He could probably hear it, too, and likely smelled the difference, but in this one brief, insane moment, I simply didn’t care. His hands dipped into my pants to cup my ass as I shivered, feeling urgent and achy and hot and everything I hadn’t felt with anyone in years. My tongue matched his movement. The kiss turned hard and feral as we collided, and I felt certain this was right because I’d always trusted my instincts.
“Ms. DiRocco, is everything all ri—Oh!”
Dominic broke the kiss. I gasped, surprised at first by the loss of the heat between us, but as my body cooled and my mind refocused, I only felt shame. I hadn’t needed to meet his gaze to lose myself.
“Yes,” Dominic murmured, looking up at Deborah, who was presumably standing behind me. “Everything is just fine.”
“I can see that.” Deborah giggled, her voice uncommonly light and schoolgirl-like.
“Deborah Rogers, please close the door on your way out,” Dominic said, and the moment the words left his lips, Deborah turned on her heel, left the room, and closed the door on her way out.
I narrowed my eyes. According to Dominic, drinking my blood had weakened Kaden and his vampires, and Dominic had just tasted my blood. I had the potential to be a vampire, and what did vampires do best besides kill humans? Exert their will over others. I took a deep breath and went for broke.
“Dominic Lysander,” I said with conviction, hoping that the conversation among the coven vampires last night had revealed Dominic’s true full name. I commanded his name the way he always wielded mine and ordered, “Look into my eyes.”
I felt an instant link between us, my mind to his. Dominic’s gaze snapped down to meet mine, and I could feel his shock, horror, and rage tingle over our invisible connection. It was like a metaphysical twine connected us, but only I could pull at the string.
I grinned. “Release your hold on me, Dominic, and take a step back.”
His hand dropped away from my chin, the arm around my back eased its pressure, and he shifted back one millimeter.
“Nice try. Dominic, please take five full steps backward.”
He did. I could both see and feel his struggle, his desperation to break the mental straitjacket I’d forced around him. I bit my lip, terrified—now that I’d played my hand—of what he would do in retaliation once I broke my gaze.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t really think this would even work,” I admitted. “But while I have your undivided attention, let me just say this. I’ll think about your request to help subdue Kaden. I need time to consider what’s best for me, and maybe, in the meantime, you can earn my trust.” Doubtful, I thought, but he didn’t need to know that. “If I decide to help you, however, it’ll be because I want to protect myself and Brooklyn from further harm. I don’t want to become a vampire. I don’t want you to turn me or remake me or regenerate me or whatever the hell you call it. I don’t want immortality with you. Part of earning my trust will be understanding this and respecting my choice.” I felt like I was talking to a lobotomized corpse, so I added, “Nod if you understand everything I’ve just said.”
He nodded.
“Wonderful,” I said on a sigh. Keeping my eyes locked on Dominic, I bent to retrieve my leather shoulder bag, stood, and edged around my desk toward the door. “I’m leaving now, and I’m asking you as a first test of trust, if you truly want my help, to please allow me to leave.”
I opened the office door, stood in the open entryway, and held his captured will in my mind for a long moment. Another emotion besides surprise and anger crept from him on the mental twine between us. I’d felt the emotion before, but I couldn’t identify it, as if I couldn’t name it because he couldn’t. He’d forgotten the feeling. The emotion was warm and sharp and spread from the center of his chest. It felt good, almost hopeful, but I wasn’t sure if inspiring such strong feelings in him boded well for me.
“Good-bye, Dominic,” I murmured.
I slammed the door between us, felt the snap of our severed connection as I bolted the door, and ran.
Chapter 7
I made it three full blocks before he attacked me. He swooped from thin air, hit my back like a semi, and pinned me up against the nearest building. My cheek scraped against the brick. I don’t know how far I’d realistically expected to run, but I hadn’t expected him to create a public scene. We were still out on the main drag, in full public view, and the public was certainly viewing. Several people had taken out their cell phones, and a few flashes burst. One woman in particular scooped up her kid and hustled off the street. She glanced back at Dominic as she turned the corner, murmuring into her phone. He could talk a grand talk about protecting the anonymity of his coven, but he was revealing the existence of vampires all on his own without the help of the rebel vampires.
Dominic buried his face in the hollow of my neck and breathed deeply. His chest vibrated against my back with that telltale, rattling hiss, and my body instinctively froze in caution, like a wide-eyed deer facing fast-approaching headlights. Deer at least had the option to run. The vibration brought me his scent, but instead of warmed pine and Christmas, the smell was more subtle and earthy, like grass after the rain. A warning tingle crept over my skin in a slow tide. His scent was different. His height and breadth were wrong, too. He pulled back from my neck with a snarl, and his mouth was already extending into a muzzle. His eyes glowed a luminous violet as I peered over my shoulder at him, under the darkness of his own shadow.
I shook my head in denial, but there was no denying the locks of long, auburn hair where I’d expected black hair and a short, styled cut; the smooth, unblemished curve of his soft lips; his slightly shorter, slightly bulkier stature; and the pull of his beautiful violet eyes.
“Kaden?” I asked.
He rubbed his extended muzzle and those gleaming fangs carefully over the side of my face. I was trembling, trying desperately to remain still, and in my desperation, only trembling more violently.
“Dominic beat me to you. I can smell his scent everywhere,” Kaden growled.
I edged away from him, and he switched sides, rubbing his face against the back of my neck to my other cheek. I realized that he was marking me, placing his scent over Dominic’s on my body.
“Was it a race?” I whispered shakily. I’d meant it as a sort of joke—although not particularly funny, considering that it was a race—but my voice didn’t deliver.
Kaden laughed anyway. “Of a sort. He may have won, but somehow, I still landed the prize.”
“Lucky you,” I murmured. Kaden licked my neck. I closed my eyes against the clammy path his tongue traced.
Maybe I can control his mind, too, like Dominic’s, I thought. Even as the thought passed, I realized that he would need to drink my blood to spark the connection.
He pressed me flat against the brick, and I lost my breath.
Waiting for him to drink my blood would probably be just a matter of time.
“Lucky you,” Kaden countered. “I was wrong. Lysander’s powers are certainly deteriorating, but you remember us because you’re a night blood. To think, you might have been turned by a dying Master.” He shook his head as if in awe of my unbelievable luck. “With me, you’ll have everything: immortality and freedom. You won’t ever be confined to hunt in the shadows. You won’t need to contain your true nature or hide in the sewers,” he growled. “You’ll be born into an emerging society of predators who rule the night.”
“With you?” I asked dismally. He was more psychotic than Dominic. Why did all the vampires assume that, just because I could become one of them, I actually wanted to be one of them?
His chest vibrated, and hollow, reptilian clicks punctuated through the growl. I leaned sideways, easing away from his muzzle. He leaned closer. The exhale of his growl was hot against my cheek. I cringed, but there was nowhere else to turn. The rattling in his chest heightened. I couldn’t hear anything past it.
Kaden bit into the side of my neck, ripped out an entire mouthful of flesh, and flung it to the ground. I screamed, I must have, but I couldn’t hear past his hissing, clicking growls. I couldn’t feel past the pain. The unbearable pressure of his mouth clamped over my neck, and he guzzled my blood as it waterfalled over my shoulder. I kicked and fought and bucked against his hard, unyielding body. He crushed his body into mine, grinding my wrists hard into the brick above my head.
He wasn’t drinking nearly as much blood as I was losing, and that pissed me off. Dominic was right. He was choosing to kill me, not out of necessity or hunger, but simply because he could.
My temper sizzled beneath my skin. I could feel the tingle of it over my whole body, through each fingertip, and blazing from my eyes. Kaden detached from my neck. He rubbed his cheek over mine, inhaling deeply, almost drunkenly, and slowly pulled away. His lips grazed my lips and the tip of his nose rubbed along the side of mine until we were forehead to forehead, staring at each other. I buried my gaze deep into his eyes—the blazing, furious anger I’d built drilled into him—and I opened my mouth to order him to step back.
Kaden’s eyes widened as he felt my connection take root. “Impossible.”
Headlights suddenly burst from behind, silhouetting us in spotlight. I flinched away from the unexpected brightness and lost my concentration. The connection between our minds disintegrated.
“Stop where you are,” crackled a voice through a bullhorn. “Place your hands on your head, and turn around.”
Kaden laughed. He cupped the unravaged side of my throat in his palm and pressed deeper into the wound at my neck. He inhaled slowly, as if he could suck the life out of me and into him through my scent alone. I tried to find that connection between us and lock into his mind again, but I couldn’t think. My head spun. My vision dimmed in pulses, and I realized that in a moment, I would likely pass out and die. Night bloods were supposed to be resilient to catastrophic blood loss, but I didn’t want to test Walker’s theories.
“This is your last warning,” the voice behind the bullhorn repeated. “Step away from the woman. Plac
e your hands on your head.”
Kaden flicked his tongue into my neck. I couldn’t feel anything at first, but then a spark of searingly sharp heat burned the wound. I cringed away from him, but he held me immobile, forced my head to the side, and licked a long line over my neck to my ear. “Mmm, Cassidy,” he murmured. His lips grazed my lobe. “Pardon me a moment.”
Suddenly, he was gone. I crumpled to my hands and knees on the ground. Shots fired. I could just discern the faint outline of cops aiming over their car doors. Their headlights were blinding. I couldn’t distinguish anyone in particular or exactly how many were firing at Kaden, but the gunfire was deafening and continuous. I shielded my eyes with my hands and blinked into the headlights. I wanted to know for certain that he was dead. I wanted to see his limp body jerk back midmotion and drop. The hand at my forehead was shaking.
Instead, a high scream burst through the gunfire. The scream cut short with a wet, meaty sound, more shots fired, and another scream pierced the air. My eyes finally began adjusting to the light. The police were aiming carefully now, more mindful of their shots to avoid hitting their fellow officers as Kaden fed. One by one, Kaden plucked an officer from behind his car, ripped out his throat, and tossed him aside for the next one, all the while undeterred by bullets. I watched, feeling horrified and sickened, as the officers fought and screamed and died for me.
I couldn’t help the officers against Kaden, so I did the only thing I could do: remove myself as a potential hostage and try to survive. I crawled into the nearest alley and away from the carnage on my hands and knees. My leather shoulder bag dragged along the asphalt next to me. Kaden would probably hear it scraping, but I didn’t have the strength to lift it.
My neck still felt singed from Kaden’s last lick. I fingered the wound tentatively, and although I couldn’t feel the pressure of my own touch, an artery wasn’t squirting. Kaden’s saliva must have healed the pulsing flow. I pulled my hand away from my neck and cringed at my blood-slicked palm. He might have healed the artery, but he hadn’t healed the wound. I needed medical attention, and I needed it five minutes ago.
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