I turned to face him, fangs pressing against my bottom lip, begging for their release. His wounds healed almost as quickly as they opened; I pulled him close to me, and he welcomed it. I released his hand and wrapped an arm behind his neck, pulling us tightly together.
In a display that brought sound back to the world I had just silenced, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side: a show of submissiveness. My eyes widened at the vein throbbing beneath his skin, and I growled at the gasps that broke my concentration.
“Avah,” he whispered. His voice was enough to tame the tide exploding within me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on taking deep, long breaths. I was shaking, but I ignored it and everything that distracted me from my control. I knew if I gave in now, I would never get myself out of the hole I’d dug. When I finally opened my eyes, Jasik stood before me, arms crossed, eyes in a knowing slant, and mouth curved into a satisfied line. I didn’t know when I’d released him from my grasp. “I knew you could do it,” he said. “With time, you’ll learn to completely control your blood lust.”
I swallowed hard and turned to face the crowd.
Slowly, the vampires surrounding me returned to their conversations, slurping away on crimson-stained straws.
Jasik and I found a table nestled in the far corner of the room. Almost immediately after we sat down, another vampire approached our table and stood beside me with a disapproving glare. I stared back; I refused to quiver under the pressure.
The vampire nodded in Jasik’s direction before setting down two glasses and walking away.
“Drink.” He lifted his glass in a cheering manner and chugged the liquid. After only a few gulps, it was gone. Jasik’s neon irises glowed with hunger, and his fangs lengthened slightly. He ran his tongue over his lips, licking stray droplets that beaded in the corners of his mouth.
I clasped my hand around the cup and held it up, eye level. The fluid was thick and smeared the side of the glass as I swooshed it around. I closed my eyes and brought it to my lips.
The heavy liquid coated my mouth and dripped down my throat. I pulled the glass away—still half full—and ran my tongue into the crevices of my mouth. The sweet substance brought clarity with it—one I wasn’t ready for.
The pulsing of the steady heartbeats around me pounded in my head. The moonlight filtering through the stained-glass windows burned against my eyes. The sweet scent of the vampires’ allure clouded my nose. The cup beneath my palm tickled my fingertips, sending chills down my spine.
But the blood—the blood coursing through veins, splashing in cups, dripping down chins—the blood was everywhere. And I wanted it. I needed it.
Jasik twirled his fingers in the air, and another round of blood was placed on our table. I threw my head back and downed the rest of my drink. I licked my lips as I grabbed the next cup, finishing it almost as soon as the cup left the tabletop. Still unsatisfied, I reached for Jasik’s cup.
“Slow down, Avah. There’s plenty. Remember, you’re learning control,” he said, resting his hand on my outstretched arm.
I growled as he nudged my arm back. Before I realized the severity of my need, before I could stop myself, I bared fangs.
The energy in the room shifted—slight breezes brushed against my skin. The noise once again ceased, and with a speed I never knew I had, I leapt from my seat and pushed myself against the wall of windows. Most of the room had cleared, but the remaining vampires, the ones who witnessed my daring challenge against their protector, stood before me—fangs exposed, bodies tense, irises black with anger.
“Stop!” Jasik said as he stood and stepped protectively in front of me. “Go. Now.”
The others relaxed, leaving the room but never letting their eyes stray from where I stood until walls separated us. I knew Jasik held a position of power in his coven, but I hadn’t realized so many would so readily obey his orders.
He turned to face me, stepping nearer until there were only a few inches between us.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing his thumb against my bare arm. My skin tingled beneath his touch.
I didn’t answer.
“Come. Training will help you focus.”
I nodded and followed him out of the dining hall, leaving my final cup of blood behind.
The basement training quarters weren’t what I was expecting. Even though the basement beautifully matched the manor’s Gothic theme, I had still expected the basement out of a horror film: gloomy, cement floors, goo-covered walls, broken windows, dead bodies sprawled about.
Wall sconces provided minimal lighting in the tight and winding hallway, but my eyes adjusted quickly. It took only seconds for the shadows to dissipate. We passed a few doors as we approached the end of the hallway.
“What’s down here?” I asked.
“The armory, our training room, storage, and such.” I raised an eyebrow at the armory part. “Believe it or not,” he continued, “we don’t simply awaken with the skills needed to kill.”
“Of course not. That would be too easy.”
The training room was behind the second to last door. The room was massive. I did quick calculations in my head; there was no way this all fit under the manor. The wall to the left was floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and I wondered if the CIA would be recording my first training session. I awkwardly tugged at my clothes, not liking the feeling of someone watching without me knowing. It was clear that paranoia was setting in, but I didn’t care. I turned my back to the eavesdroppers, hoping I could stay at this angle for the remainder of our time down here. It was unlikely, but a girl could dream.
The wall adjacent to the mirrors was full of weapons: crossbows, spears, blades. The carpeted floor in the hallway didn’t continue into the room. Instead, the entire flooring was matted. I gently pushed my heels into the foam, testing its cushiness. There wasn’t any fancy workout equipment. There was just padded flooring. I supposed vampires didn’t need to work out, but they did need to spar.
“We should get started. There’s a bathroom in the back,” he said, pointing to a little wooden door hidden in the corner. “Put these on,” he added, tossing me what looked like scraps of fabric.
With the flick of a wrist, I pulled them open: a black sports bra with a crisscrossed back—identical to the one I was already wearing—and black spandex shorts that seemed more like underwear than outerwear.
“You’re kidding,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the skimpy outfit. There was no way that I was going to wear this in public.
“Change quickly; we have a lot of work to do,” he said.
“And why exactly do I have to wear this? Can’t I just wear what I have on? It’s flexible,” I said, dropping into squats to emphasize my movement capabilities.
The grin on his face was more than enough evidence that he’d force me into these clothes anyway, yet I continued my mini workout routine, hoping I’d convince him that modern-day clothing was appropriate attire for workout buddies. While I wasn’t the best fitness partner when I was human, I was still smart enough to know that items easily passable as lingerie didn’t belong in the gym.
“Those won’t do.”
“But why?” I asked, ceasing my routine.
“Three reasons: one, you need to be able to see your body move,” he said as he flicked up his pointer finger. “Two, you need to be free of restrictions. And three, everyone loves a good distraction. To determine your gift, you must be tested. To be tested, you must wear this attire. You’ll understand as the day progresses.”
Two and three received their own corresponding fingers as though it provided ample emphasis. Jasik spoke with a matter-of-fact tone, one he used at almost all times when we discussed the life of a vampire. I honestly believed that he believed everything he said would one day change the world—or at least be of great importance. They were just clothes. Though I wasn’t sure what the big deal was, I gave up my argument and sulked into the bathroom.
I whined as I emerged, and ev
en though Jasik was busily prepping an array of weaponry on a side table, I kept my frown plastered on my face. Good thing my mother was wrong when she said the longer I held it, the more likely it was to stick around forever. Though I had learned that the hard way.
When I was nine, she spent all night working a spell that actually left my skin wrinkled for a week. The drop of my cheeks sparked enough fear to stop me from crying when I wasn’t allowed a toy after leaving the market. I hoped my new vampire family would be slightly less literal.
I shifted from foot to foot and exhaled loudly. I felt ridiculous in my new workout uniform, and just in case Jasik wasn’t aware of my frustration, I felt the need to make it extra evident. My blatant behavior caused him to grin, but his eyes didn’t stray from the table.
Giving up, I walked over to the wall and slid my finger across the blade of a shiny silver… sword? I didn’t know. Having a curved tip and being maybe two or three feet long, it seemed too small to be a sword, yet too long to be a dagger. But it was pretty, and it made me miss my katana. The mirrored blade ended in a black handle with swirling silver lines that seemed to glitter. The tip of the handle had a metallic stone. I rubbed my finger over the smooth surface. I pulled it from the wall, my palm firmly grasping it in place.
“Beautiful,” Jasik said. I tore my eyes away from my newfound toy to look at him. He stared back, admiring, and I wondered if his word had more meaning than the weapon deserved.
I glanced at myself in the full-length mirrors. The clothes snugged tightly against my body, emphasizing each muscular curve—curves I was sure had formed after my transformation, and the blade gave my look an edge I’d never seen before. I looked fierce, dangerous. I turned and clenched my hand tighter around the blade’s handle; my arm muscles obeyed the command, forming tight lines and bulging threateningly.
Jasik stepped behind me, placing a hand atop my own, and turned the blade. “Hold it like this,” he said.
I was painfully aware of his proximity. His breath was cool on my bared back. I turned my head and met his eyes, letting his fingers linger. Shivers shot through my body when his skin lightly brushed against mine.
I said nothing—afraid to break the moment, yet terrified to let it continue.
How did he have such control over me? But more importantly, why did I let it happen? As if reading my thoughts, he pulled away, clearing his throat and returning to the table of weapons.
“That’s a Celtic seax,” he said, fiddling with things atop the table. “The handle has a very powerful crystal: the hematite. It’s believed that the hematite protects warriors in battle, so this particular stone holds great value to Hunters. I’ve had it since I was a child. It was my father’s.” He turned to face me, holding a small dagger, swirling it around in his hand while he spoke. “It’s been restored, but if you like it, I want you to have it,” he said.
“What? No. I can’t. It’s a family heirloom. I couldn’t take this,” I said, yet I kept my fingers firmly around the handle. I wanted to give it back, but letting go felt wrong.
He chuckled. “I suppose it is, but no one has used it for quite some time. I’d rather have it be of use than collecting dust.” He paused before adding, “I want you to have it. Please.”
I looked at the blade, raising it and resting the tip on my free palm. I moved my arms up and down. It was light—too light. Would it even be effective? How hard was it to kill a vampire, anyway?
“Would this work to kill a Rogue?” I asked.
“Most definitely. It’s made of a strong metal. I’ve used it myself.”
I nodded. “Okay, I mean, if you’re sure.” I wanted it. I didn’t know why, but I was drawn to it. I had to have it. I imagined myself twirling the weapon around me. I watched it slice through the necks of the Rogues I sought.
“Great, and I have a scabbard,” he said, setting down the dagger and walking across the room to a cabinet. A scabbard? “I made this to fit on one’s back,” he said, opening the cabinet door and grabbing what I assumed was the scabbard. It looked like a sheath had been sewn into the back of my sports bra—minus the front cover up. Not surprisingly so, it was all black, but it had a crisscrossed back that lined up with my top. “You’ll need to practice sliding your blade in and out, but in time, you should easily access it.”
He tightened the arms on the scabbard with ease. “Turn around,” he said, and I eagerly obeyed.
I set the seax on the table and slid my arms into the holes. It fit as if it were meant for me. I stepped away from Jasik and admired myself in the mirrors, turning my head to the side, trying to see where it rested on my back. The straps seamlessly fell into place with my sports bra.
I grabbed the seax from the table and mimicked Jasik’s twirly maneuver, which was easier than I anticipated. I was used to twirling my katana, but the weight of the seax was different. It was as if I had to re-learn how to ride a bike.
Feeling daring, I flipped the blade upward in a twirling motion before yanking it down, hoping my aim would come as quickly as my weapon-twirling.
Only it didn’t.
I dropped the blade as it sliced down my back, the metal cool, formidable. The strap of my top snagged on the blade, and the metal sliced through. I felt the blade enter muscle. I cried out, falling to the ground as it dug deeper into my back. I landed on my knees in a thump, and Jasik dropped to my side, catching me before I landed fully on the floor.
He grabbed the seax, which had nestled itself into my lower back, before it could cut deeper or sever my spine. Instinctively, I reached back, attempting to grab onto the handle and pull it from my body. I could only lift my arm a few inches before searing pain shot through me.
For the first time since I had willingly joined a coven of vampires, I thought I was going to die. I had survived countless vampire attacks, a birth rite that inflicted power too great for a mortal being to withstand, and a Rogue attack. Nothing had seemed worthy of taking my life—except me. I would lose my life to a moment of self-inflicted stupidity.
“It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” he said.
I screamed and dug my fingers into his skin as he pulled the seax from my back. The smell of blood filled the room, momentarily distracting me from the pain in my back.
“You’ll heal in just a few min—” he said as the wound on my back began to heat and tingle. The pain left almost as quickly as it came, and I sank into a slumped position. I swallowed the knot in my throat and looked over my shoulder at the wall-to-wall mirrors behind us. The wound was gone.
“I thought I was going to die,” I said. I had many close calls when patrolling the grounds near my home, but none had left me feeling so helpless. Here, I didn’t have my coven to heal or protect me. I only had Jasik and his coven—most of whom didn’t even want me here.
“That’s not possible,” he said, staring at my back.
“What?” For the first time since we had met, I was afraid of him. I was afraid of the uncertainty in his eyes.
“She used her shield on me this morning,” he said. I bobbed my head between Jasik and the spot he was staring at on the mirror, which wasn’t aligned with my reflection.
I began pulling away from him, but he grabbed onto my arm. My pulse quickened. Was I actually going to die? I didn’t understand his look of distrust.
“Let me go,” I said.
“You just healed, Avah.” He glanced down at me. He was conflicted. His eyes betrayed his feelings. I could hear his heart pounding as he attempted to control his breathing. Hard lines formed around his concerned eyes. But was he concerned for me? Or the mysterious visitor behind the mirror?
“Vampires are supposed to heal,” I said in a sad attempt to brush off his fear. I pulled against his hold, but his centuries of built-up strength seemed to harden into stone.
“No, you healed. Not like a vampire. Like a healer.” He glanced back to the mirror, and in a quick motion, he brought his other arm up and pinned me to the floor, eliminating the space between us. I squ
irmed beneath him, but he pushed me harder into the foam mat.
Fear erupted within me, and I resorted to begging. “Jasik, please. I—I...” I didn’t know what to say. The only vampire in the coven who cared for me now glared at me with newfound distrust. The others had already deemed me unworthy and were clearly out for blood.
“I’m sorry, Avah. Don’t fight back. I won’t hurt you.” He spoke barely above a whisper. I was sure he was hoping the beings behind the mirror hadn’t heard him. His fangs lengthened, and his irises glowed. “If I don’t, she will—and she’ll hurt you.” Without warning, he slid his fangs into my neck.
I pushed against him, using all of my strength, screaming as he slowly drank. His fangs felt no differently than the seax’s deathly encounter only moments earlier.
My nails against his skin drew blood. The smell of it was intoxicating, and slowly, the dull ache in my neck began to fade. My fangs lengthened. Seeing a way out, I turned my head, further exposing my neck but enough to bite into his shoulder.
I savagely tore at his skin, but he didn’t flinch. As I pulled away, his skin glowed and healed. Weakening from blood loss, I released his arms from my grip.
“Please,” I begged breathlessly.
He released my pinned arms, shifting his weight so that his body blocked my view of the mirrors. He lowered his free arm to my bare side, tracing circular, soothing patterns on my skin with his thumb. His gentle caress was comforting.
He pulled back, staring into my eyes. His irises were a shade of neon I hadn’t seen before. They were brighter than when he’d used his magic, and the color was speckled with blackness. His eyes spoke of a hunger he wouldn’t dare speak of. His gaze drifted to my mouth, and briefly, he leaned toward me. Ever so slightly, his lips brushed against mine but stopped short of forming the intimate connection.
Blood Rose (Blood Books Book 1) Page 9
