She grimaced as he flinched, and then he looked up at her, still kneeling on the ground. His blond hair was tousled and dirty. His eyes were glowing red, and his face was the cold, lethal visage of a predator. "You're mine," he said. His voice had been rough and ragged when he'd first shown up, but after biting her three times, it was silky smooth, rolling over her like a dangerous seduction.
Chills raced down her arms as she held up the stake. "Don't do it," she warned.
"The stakes can't kill me," he said as he rose to his feet, moving with the languid grace of a predator. Three times he'd bitten her, and each time she'd staked him, taking advantage of the moment when he first tasted her blood and was sucked into the bloodlust. Each time, the blow had knocked him down, but each time, he'd gotten back up before she could get past him to the door. "You're mine, Jordyn. We both know it." He held out his hand to her, his eyes still red with a dangerously feral gleam. "Come with me."
Sensual compulsion slid through her, and she felt a silky touch glide across her cheek, as if he'd caressed her with his mind. To her shock, desire licked through her belly, desire that was his, not hers. Dear God, was this the power of the vampire? That he could incite lust in his victims even if they were repulsed by him? Not that she was repulsed exactly, but sexual attraction was simply not a part of her relationship with him. "You're like my brother," she gasped, moving back against the wall. Where was Eric? She'd heard several explosions from the safe room, but he hadn't come out.
Her heart had leapt with hope when she'd heard him shout her name, and she'd hurled herself at the wall desperately...but he hadn't emerged. There'd been some booms that had shaken the entire house, but the steel cell he was in had held him captive. Damn David for locking him in there. Seriously. She was going to stab David with Eric's knife if he dared come home.
Eric had shouted at Tristan a moment ago, but now it was quiet. She didn't dare yell for him again, not with Tristan oozing toward her like a well-oiled lothario bent on seduction. "Tristan—"
She felt an invisible caress on her breast, and she sucked in her breath. "Hey!" She batted at her chest. In that split second distraction, he moved, exploding so quickly toward her that she had no time to react.
He leapt across the room, knocked the stake out of her hand, and pinned her up against the wall, in a single, effortless move.
Her heart hammering violently, she went still, afraid to put him over the edge. "Tristan," she urged. "You're my friend. You don't have to be like this."
She thought she saw regret flicker in his eyes. "Oh, but I do, my darling. I do." Then his fingers slid through her hair in a caress so seductive that her legs started to tremble. His mind wove through hers, making her belly tighten with lust.
"Damn you," she whispered. "I don't want this!" She moved slightly, and then slammed her knee into his crotch.
Tristan grunted, but instead of collapsing in pain, he tightened his grip on her hair and yanked her head backward, exposing her neck. "I'm dying without you," he said. "I'm dying."
She stared up at him, her heart tightening at the anguish in his voice. For a split second, she saw the handsome, carefree visage of the man she'd once known, the man who was her friend. His face was steeped in torment, and she felt his pain so viscerally that her muscles clenched in empathy. She realized he spoke the truth, that he was dying. Her eyes filled with tears as she set her hand on his face, her fingers prickling from his whiskers. Of course she wanted to save him. She owed him everything. "Not this way, Tristan. You don't want this. I don't want this. Not this way." She'd give him her blood if that would save his life, but not with her pinned up against the wall. Over coffee maybe, trading jokes. "Tristan, I'll help you, but not as your prey."
"Not my prey. My lover," he whispered, his voice gliding silkily across her flesh, and making her thighs clench. "You do want this."
Did she? She sort of felt like she did. But no, those weren't her thoughts. Tristan was in her head, twisting her emotions. "No—" Sudden warmth fluttered through her body, a soul-deep longing, and then he sank his teeth into her neck.
Desire rolled over her, the most intense craving she'd ever felt in her life. A raw, uncontrollable need for sex, intimacy, for the feel of naked flesh beneath her hands. She gasped, her entire body shaking as Tristan drank from her. "No," she gasped, gripping his shoulders. "I don't want this." But she did. She wanted to save him. She wanted him to drink from her. She craved his body, his kiss, his touch. Her entire being screamed for more...but it was Eric's face in her mind. Not Tristan's. Eric's.
She twisted, confused, both wanting to lose herself in Tristan's spell, and craving Eric at the same time. Their bodies and faces merged in her mind, until they became one, two parts of a whole, twins of the same spirit and soul. What was happening? She shook her head, trying to clear it, but, her need for both brothers, for Eric, for Tristan, for whatever she could have continued to mount, raging in its ruthless intensity.
Her mind struggled to resurface, but her body began to weaken as he took more blood from her. She sagged in his arms, collapsing against his body. His chest was harder and more muscled than when he'd first arrived, and his flesh was warm now, pulsing with life and strength. She didn't want him, she knew she didn't, but at the same time, she couldn't separate him from Eric in her mind, in her body. It just felt too good to be where she was, and the heat flowing through her from where his teeth were locked into her flesh felt so amazing.
But it was Tristan feasting on her, not Eric. She wanted to save Tristan, but not by feeding the monster trying to take him, and she definitely didn't want to get naked with him. She didn't want Tristan. She didn't want to have sex with him. She didn't want him stirring up lust in her.
She wanted his brother.
"Eric?" She managed to say his name, but her words were slurred, and her legs suddenly gave out.
Tristan swept her up in his arms before she fell, cradling her against his chest as he continued to drink from her. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and her body became too heavy to move. Her eyes closed, and a languid weight settled across her soul. Eric.
No, not Eric. Tristan's voice filled her mind. You belong to me, not him. Me.
Tristan's thoughts were weaving through hers, tangling with her own, trying to take over. She hadn't remembered how beautiful his voice was, gliding through her like the most deliberate and sensual caress. It felt so good...too good... No. I'm not yours. Let me go. She knew she was in danger. She knew she had to get away, and yet her body didn't feel like hers. She couldn't fight. She could barely think.
His teeth slid out of her neck, and he licked the wound once, cleansing the pain before it began, but the desire didn't lessen. His mind was tightly woven around her, sending waves of longing crashing through her as he tucked her more tightly against his chest.
She felt him turn, and she managed to get her eyes open enough to see he was heading toward the stairs, moving so swiftly that she could barely even process. He was taking her away. Where? Why? To seduce her and feed on her? Crap! No! She tried to move, to struggle, but her muscles wouldn't obey. Eric!
She felt a sudden rush of dark energy, rolling over her skin. It was pure, undiluted evil, so intense that a scream welled up in her soul. Then, Eric's voice brushed over her mind. Duck.
Chapter 12
The urgency in Eric's voice was enough to jerk Jordyn free of the haze coating her mind. Duck? Duck?
Desperate energy rolled through her, and she collapsed her body, slipped right out of Tristan's unsuspecting arms. She hadn't even hit the floor when there was a deafening shriek, as if a thousand souls were being tortured in hell. A dark cloud exploded past her and smashed into Tristan's chest. The force of the blow flung him across the basement, spinning him in a violent whirlwind.
The dark mist was filled with thousands of screaming, translucent faces torqued in suffering so horrible she couldn't even fathom it. They reached out with their arms, trying to grab Tristan. Jordyn stumble
d backward, gasping in shock as she watched the macabre display before her.
Tristan bellowed with fury and attacked the cloud, moving with lightning speed. Incredibly, he seemed to be able to make contact with the screaming faces. Each one dissolved the moment he made contact, shrieking with a wail of eternal torment as it disintegrated. Cuts and bruises appeared on Tristan's skin as they attacked, damaging him as quickly as he was wiping them out. His body was lithe and well-muscled now, no longer as gaunt as it had been before he'd fed on her, but it was clear that he was still over-matched by Eric's assault. He glanced toward Eric's prison cell with a look of pure anguish. "You fool, Eric! What have you done?"
He gave one more lethal swipe through the storm of spirits, then he whirled around and sprinted up the stairs, moving with almost incomprehensible preternatural speed and grace. The screaming mass of specters streaked after him, still attacking him as they all disappeared up the stairs. She heard a window shatter, and then the shrieks faded, as they chased Tristan into the night.
Exhausted, she turned toward the door to the steel room, expecting to see Eric standing there, tossing her one of his arrogant grins, ready to request sex as his due for saving her.
But the door was still closed.
The lock was shattered into a thousand pieces, strewn across the floor, and there was a hole in the steel door the size of a man's fist. Through the hole, she could see nothing but darkness. She leaned back against the wall, sinking onto the top step with fatigue. "Eric?"
"Don't come in." His voice was raspy, laced with such deadliness that she froze.
The edge in his voice made her skin prickle with alarm. "What's wrong?" She grabbed the stair railing and pulled herself to her feet. Her legs were shaking, and she swayed.
"Get in my car and leave," he commanded, without any of his customary flirtation. "Go anywhere. Just don't stay."
"I can't leave." The room was spinning, and her mind was still fuzzy. The lust was still pulsing through her, residual from Tristan. She braced her palm against the wall, trying to keep her balance. "If I drive right now, I'll crash and die. Your brother took too much blood from me."
There was a dark silence from the room. "He fed on you?"
She touched her neck, and her skin tingled where he'd bitten her. "You could say that." She leaned her forehead against the wall, fighting to stay vertical. "Thanks for saving me."
Again silence.
"Eric?"
"You need to leave."
His voice was taut, as if he were in extreme pain. Foreboding crept down her spine, and she turned her head toward the room. "Are you okay?"
Again silence.
"Eric?" She levered herself off the wall, and stumbled across the floor toward the door. Dizziness overtook her as she reached the door, and she fell against it with a loud thud. Utterly drained by the trek across the room, she slid down the door to the floor. Wearily, she rested her head against the steel. "What's going on?" She noticed a trail of black mist oozing out from the hole in the door. It looked almost like droplets of black rain, moving horizontally.
She stared at it, mesmerized, as she watched the steady stream pass by her head. It seemed to be glittering, almost as if it were alive. Curious, she lifted her hand to touch it—
"Don't." Eric's low voice froze her, but it didn't sound like it was coming only from the room anymore. It seemed to be all around her, as if he were in stereo.
Adrenaline pulsed through her, galvanizing her. She sat up. "Talk to me, Eric." The mist was continuing to stream out the hole in the door, but now it was gathering several feet away, spinning in a centrifuge of blackness. "Tell me what's going on."
"Get the fuck out of here."
There was no mistaking the pain in his voice. Something was very wrong. "Eric!" The black mist was pouring out of the hole in a stream almost six inches in diameter. "Is that you? Are you disintegrating or something?" Her heart began to hammer in fear. She needed Eric. Without him, Tristan would have kidnapped her and engaged in an untold number of nefarious activities with her. She couldn't do this without Eric! "What's going on?"
Using the doorknob to support herself, she leveraged herself to her feet, and tried to open the door.
"Don't open that!"
"You don't get to tell me what to do!" She yanked on the door. At first, it didn't move, and then it moved a tiny bit. "I'm coming! Hang in there!" She braced one foot on the wall and gripped the doorknob, throwing all her weight into it. "What did you do? Melt it shut? Couldn't you just have opened it?"
"Jordyn." His voice brushed over her, so thick with evil and danger that she froze. "You do not want me to get out of here, and you do not want to see what I am. Get out of here. Now."
"Oh...so that's it." She sighed with aggravation. "You've turned into that 'I'm not human, I'm a scary monster' guy, and you don't want me to see you?" She planted her foot back on the wall and resumed her assault on the stuck door. He'd broken the lock, so now it was up to her. "Well, I have news for you, big guy. I've been through rogue Calydons and two vampire attacks, as well as my dad's drinking, so whatever it is you've turned into is fine with me. The fact you're talking and worried about my safety tells me there's enough Eric left that I'm safe. So, for heaven's sake, get over yourself and stop trying to do the independent guy thing. Seriously—" As she spoke, the door finally gave way. It flew open, and she went sailing backward, tumbling through the cloud of mist that was assembling.
The moment the particles touched her skin, she felt as if her flesh had just been torn from her body. She screamed in agony and crashed into the stairs, twisting and convulsing from the assault. The pain invaded her mind and body, creating images in her head of scenes of torture and death. She saw people's faces screaming in anguish. She felt their horror. She smelled the scent of rotting flesh and dead. "Get it away from me!" She rolled across the floor, away from the mist, crashing into upended chairs as she tried to escape.
By the time she hit the wall, she was out of its range, and the attack ended, leaving her with a blessed respite. For a moment, she lay shivering on the floor, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to get warm. She was so cold that she felt like every last bit of life had been stripped from her, leaving her body behind to slowly freeze to death. Her teeth were chattering, and her belly was shaking so violently that her muscles were cramping. Dear God, was that from Eric? Was that what he was? Maybe he was right. Maybe she should leave—
A creak sounded from the safe room.
Jordyn spun around, scrambling to her feet as the floor creaked again, as if something of immense mass was walking across it. "Eric?"
She glanced at the stairs, and saw that the funnel of dark mist was gathering in front of it. There was no way to get up the steps without passing through it again, which she suspected wasn't top on her list of smart activities. She glanced toward the safe room again. The stream of mist was thicker now, moving even more quickly. Where was it coming from? "Eric? How do I stop it?"
Again, no answer.
Frantic, she looked at the stairs and the mist again, and realized it was closer to her than it had been a moment ago. She studied it for a moment, evaluating it. It was moving quickly enough that she could monitor its progress. With rising concern, she realized it was heading right for her, getting larger at every moment. There was no way she could get past it. "Oh, come on!" She'd been dined on enough tonight already! "Enough!"
On one side was Eric. On the other was the shimmering cloud of hell. Not a difficult choice. The mist wasn't human. Eric was close enough. She was throwing her lot in with him!
Summoning strength she was pretty sure she didn't have, she ducked past it and raced across the floor toward the safe room. She slipped in through the open door and ran into Eric's prison.
She stopped just inside the doorway, straining to see into the darkness. "Eric!" At first she couldn't see anything, but her eyes quickly adjusted. She was soon able to discern him in the corner. The moment she saw him
, horror rippled through her, and her fists clenched. "Oh, God. Eric."
He had backed into the far corner, his hands back by his hips. His fingers had dug holes in the steel, and he was gripping the wall, as if to hold himself back from attacking her. His head was down, but he was watching her intently, his gaze boring into her, like a predator about to launch himself at her. His muscles were strung so tight that they were straining against his jeans and tee shirt. His skin was no longer flesh, but an undulating mass of shadows and darkness, streaking across his face. His eyes were glittering black diamonds. He didn't look like a man. He looked like a creature from the beyond, a very terrifying, and dangerous beyond.
She froze. "Eric?"
He shook his head once. "Leave." His voice was strained and rough.
"What's wrong with you?"
"I had to save you." The shadows lengthened across his flesh, until he appeared to be almost transparent, as if he were the doorway to a bottomless chasm of hell that resided in his body. "I can't hold it off. You have to get out. I'll destroy you."
She glanced behind her, and she saw the mist was getting bigger. Her gaze followed the stream of mist back into the room, and she realized it was coming from Eric. Every surface of his body was dissolving, turning into the particles that were reforming by the stairs. "What's happening to you?"
He bowed his head, and she saw the muscles in his forearms tighten as he dug his fingers into the wall even deeper. The steel creaked in protest as it bowed beneath his strength. "Get out, Jordyn. Now. Run for your life." He raised his head and met her gaze. "You can't save both of us, so save yourself. I need to die knowing that you're safe."
She heard the truth of his words, and something in her heart seemed to come alive for the first time in so long. Walter had endangered everyone who mattered to her in order to bond with her, but Eric had sacrificed himself to save her. Was this really going to be his reward? To die? "How do I save you?"
Not Quite Dead (A NightHunter Novel) Page 15
