by Elle Jasper
With a single nod, he turns me loose. We continue on in silence.
After a while, the dense wood thins, and a small, ancient-looking village lies ahead in the mist.
“The belfry at the citadel has the most stunning view of all Transylvania over the village and back up to Castle Arcos. Would you like to see?”
Sliding Victorian a gaze, I smile. Then I laugh. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
Victorian stares, confusion making his eyes question.
“We’re in Transylvania. A family of vampires?” I encourage.
Victorian grins.
“And you’re my tour guide now?” I say.
If a vampire could blush, it’d be Victorian Arcos who could pull it off. He smiles. “Of course. And, of course.”
Now that I take a closer look at everything around me—the ancient medieval village, the cobbled streets, the colorful buildings, the old-as-dirt-church and the castle? It totally reminds me of a scene out of Van Helsing. Any minute I expect Drac’s brides to come flying over the belfry to swoop down and nab some dinner from a hapless villager.
“We never feed from our own villagers,” Victorian offers.
I snap my head toward him. “I thought you couldn’t hear my thoughts.”
He blinks, stares at me, and smiles. “Well, I just heard you clear as a bell. It must be your new metabolic changes that have given me the communication back. Sweet.”
“Sweet?” I ask at his use of modern slang. Then I chuckle. Vic makes me laugh.
Just then, the bell in the church tower tolls. It sounds positively spooky.
As we descend from the forest and onto the path leading into the village, I notice my surroundings. Breathtaking hardly describes them.
“It’s true,” Victorian offers. “Our land is second to no other.” With an elegant sweep of his arm, he describes the view. “We’re surrounded on three sides by the Carpathians,” he says in his unique accent, and as I look, I see it’s true. Rigid pikes, most with snowcaps, form an almost complete circle in the distance. “Reminds me a little of the Rockies,” I answer. When I notice Victorian looking at me, I explain. “Big ink conference in Denver.”
“Well, very much like your Rockies, there are large animals in the wood,” he says. “You need to take caution, Riley, when taking off alone.”
“What kind of animals?” I ask.
“Bear. Lynx”—he meets my gaze—“wolf.”
“Warning heeded,” I respond. Suddenly, my brother crosses my mind. Then I look at him. “I need a pay phone.”
Victorian immediately withdraws a mobile phone from his pocket. As we walk toward the church, he punches in a few numbers, then hands me the cell and guides me to sit on a little stone bench facing the cobbled streets. “Just dial your area code and number. I’ll be right back.”
I don’t even think. I grab the phone and dial Seth’s cell. It rings three times before my brother answers.
“Hello?” Seth says.
A whoosh of relief rushes through me at hearing his voice. “Hey, bro. It’s Ri.”
After a moment of silence, he answers. “Riley?”
I smile. “Yeah. How ya doin’, squirt?”
“Riley!” he says excitedly. “I miss you! How—what’s going on? Are you okay?”
I laugh at the excitement in my brother’s voice. I feel like I’m smiling on the inside. “God, I miss you, little brother. Yes, I’m okay. A little weird, but okay.”
“Weirder than before?” he jokes.
“A lot more,” I answer. “How’s Nyx—”
“What do you mean, a lot more?” he asks. Worry now laces his words.
“It’s nothing, Seth,” I say, not wanting to stress out my fifteen-year-old worrywart brother. “Nothing I can’t handle. Seriously.”
“I miss you, Ri,” he says, and for a second, sounds like my old baby brother. Before vampires. “When ya comin’ home?”
“I’m not sure, but soon,” I say. “Nyx?”
“She’s fine,” he answers. “Luc pretty much stays at the shop with her during the day.”
“Good. What else is going on?” I ask.
“It’s…been busy,” he answers. “A lot of activity between here and Charleston. Valerian’s gang has been on the move. We’ve managed to intercept several kills. They’re random and unorganized, almost as if some of the newlings have split from Valerian. Noah’s guys have been here twice. We’ve been there three times and headed back tonight.”
If Noah’s little clan of humans with tendencies have been helping Seth and the others, then Valerian must be out of control.
“How’s Preach and Estelle?” I ask.
“Well,” he sighs, then continues. “Ever since the Gullah killing, things have been tense. I repapered the entire upstairs of Preacher and Estelle’s apartment, and just started on the kitchen. Fresh coat of haint blue on the door and ceiling. And Estelle’s been making some stuff that stinks like crazy.”
Haint blue paint is a Gullah belief; they use it on doors and ceilings to keep the bad spirits out. Estelle is a superb brewer of root potions, but they stink like hell. And work like hell, too.
I close my eyes briefly. “The killing. Tell me.”
“Eli didn’t tell you?”
I sigh. “I didn’t give him a chance. I ran out as soon as I woke up.”
“Woke up from what?” he pushes.
I give up. My baby brother deserved to know. “I had two quickenings to get through. They’re all done now, so no worries. Got it?”
“Two?” he asks.
“Yeah. Another Arcos. And a Dupré. I’ll explain that one later, so don’t ask.”
“Did they hurt you, Ri?” he says solemnly.
“No, Seth. I’m fine. Honest.” I see Victorian heading toward me with something in his hand. “About the killing?”
“It’s been kept quiet, but I overheard Mrs. D. talking to Mr. D. on the phone about it. We didn’t know her, but she was one of the nieces. Seventeen years old. Preacher knows it wasn’t the Duprés. Feels sure it wasn’t you either, Riley. The attacks haven’t stopped though. Seems like someone turns up dead every day, no matter that we run the streets each night. It’s almost like the ones we’ve saved haven’t mattered.”
“They’ve mattered, bro. Every single one matters. And Seth, you guys have to check on Bhing,” I say. “I think she was attacked. She could be in the quickening.”
“Okay. I’ll see about it.”
Victorian hands me something wrapped in a thick brown paper. “I’ve gotta go, bro. I love you. Be home soon. And stay safe, okay?”
“I will, and I love you, Ri,” he answers. “Be careful. And don’t fully put your trust in Victorian. I know he’s there, and that he has helped you. But, I don’t know. Something about him. I’m not sure I like it.”
I smile. “Okay, okay. Got it. Watch your back. And I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
The click on the line lets me know my little brother has ended the call. I give Vic back his cell.
“Is all well there?” he asks, then sits beside me.
I shrug and peek inside the paper. A fried dough pie of sorts, and it smells like pot roast inside. “Well, my brother’s okay.” I lift the pie to my nose and sniff, then look at Vic. “But there’s a lot of shit going on. Your brother is on a rampage and doesn’t seem to have his army under control.” My teeth sink into the meat pie, and the moment the spicy flavors hit my tongue, my stomach growls in answer. I had no idea how long it’d been since I’d eaten anything. Normal people food, that is.
Victorian’s chocolate brown eyes stay locked on me. “Yes, it’s a bad situation there. My brother”—he looks away—“is out of control.” He stares off, toward the jagged mountains. “Despite my father’s crassness, he is still very much a believer in following the codes of vampires.” He looks at me then, eyes hardened. “If caught, Valerian will suffer in ways you can’t fathom.”
I continue eating, almost t
o the point of cramming larger bites into my mouth to feed my starving stomach.
“Good, yes?” Vic asks. He nods in the direction he walked from. “Best baker within a hundred miles.”
I nod in agreement, thinking he has to be right, and continue devouring. As I chew, I glance out over the small village, and the people moving about the cobbled streets. An old woman—red scarf tied over her hair, a brown dress and brightly colored apron tied over the front, and a woolen sweater, with sturdy, shin-high black boots—hustles across the street with surprising agility. As she passes us, she glances first at me, then at Victorian, and then mumbles under her breath.
“May God walk with me through this dark place, to my house of prayer,” she says, quietly but audible. Then she moves fast into the little church and disappears behind a thick wooden door that looks as though it has been around since King Arthur.
“Do many people here speak English?” I ask, and finish my pie.
“She wasn’t speaking English.”
I swallow and wipe my mouth. “What was she speaking then?”
Victorian grins. “Romanian. Seems like you’ve picked up a little trait from my father.”
“Great,” I answer. “Can’t wait to see what else pops up.” I stand and look around. “All right, Vic. I’m gonna head out.” I give him a quick look. “I need a little time alone.”
“Wait,” Victorian says, and leans close. He lays a hand against my shoulder. “There’s something else I should warn you about.”
I give him a skeptical look. “What else could there be? That I now have three powerful strigoi bloodlines converging with my own? Yes, I know. Yes, I’ll be careful—”
“You may experience things,” Victorian says, ignoring my rant. “Out-of-body type of things. You will see more than just through another’s eyes,” he says seriously. “You’ll actually be there. Or so it will seem.”
My mind doesn’t grasp this at once. “You mean…like becoming two people? Me and someone else?”
He shakes his head. “No. Almost like…converging with another’s soul. You’ll be inside of them, hearing, seeing, feeling everything that they do. Only they won’t know you’re there.”
I rub first my eyes, then my forehead. “That’s…sick. Any way I can avoid it?”
A small smile tips the corner of Victorian’s mouth. “Hardly. But you can learn, over time, how to control it. You’ll have to. Because although the soul and body you’re visiting can’t hear or see you, they feel your emotions. Whatever you experience, they experience.” He shrugs. “If you’re frightened, they’re frightened. Heart rate speeds up, breathlessness, adrenaline.”
I shake my head. “Why?”
Again, he smiles, and it’s more of a regretful type of smile than anything else. “Because it’s what the strongest of the strigoi are capable of. They do it on purpose to gain control of their victims.”
I think on that for a moment, and then look at Victorian. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
He nods. “I will see you later, love. Be careful. And watch for the bears and wolves.”
The feeling that I need to heed way more than Romanian carnivores strikes me full force as I take off at a slight jog along the path out of the village.
I run toward the ridgeline of the Carpathians in a hurry.
To what end? I have no freaking idea.
Part Six
Newblood
I thought Miles was bullshitting me when he told me about Riley Poe. Damn if he wasn’t right. I’m not sure I’ve ever met as strong a woman—human or otherwise—like her. Good thing, too, since most experienced humans with tendencies would have a hard fucking time handling three strigoi bloodlines. Bad thing, though, is she has no idea what’s coming. Eli says she can handle it. Noah Miles swears I’ll enjoy watching her handle it. Little does Riley Poe know that she’s about to merge more into my world than she ever dreamed. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it.
—Jake Andorra
The one thing that I severely notice as I run is that my heart maybe beats about ten times per minute. I’m pretty sure any cardiologist would love to see that in action. I guess I’m lucky the damn thing beats at all.
As I slip into the forest on another worn path leading up and through the dense wood, Victorian’s words echo in my head. “…although the soul and body you’re visiting can’t hear or see you, they feel your emotions. Whatever you experience, they experience.” I’ve sort of had that already. Valerian’s thoughts and actions were ones I could see, and feel, right after he was released from his tomb and started preying on innocents. I could feel what they felt, see what they saw, but I was me. I tried to warn them, to run, but they couldn’t hear anything. I couldn’t control them, either. I was an invisible bystander, but I couldn’t stay out of the situation. Hopefully, with this, I’ll learn. I can’t imagine just…falling into someone’s body. Into their psyche. That’s utterly weird.
The dark bracken crackles beneath my booted feet as I run through the wood. I pick up speed—which seems to grow faster than ever with each step. I mean, ridiculously fast. So much that the trees and bushes and rocks blur. My reflexes are lightning fast, and I impress myself by not slamming into even one low-lying limb. I bound off trees and rock, and leap over anything within my path. I feel strong. I feel good. Fucking good.
I don’t know how long I run, but it’s a damn long time. What little light filters through the trees begins to fade; the mist grows thicker. I slow my pace. I’m completely lost and I don’t even care because somehow, I’m fearless, even here. I can find my way back. I glance upward, through the canopy of leaves, and watch a crescent moon begin its ascent.
I feel his presence before I see him, so I slow, then stop.
Eli emerges from behind the trunk of an aged fir tree and I feel the adrenaline surge through me. Just seeing him does that to me, and I can’t explain it other than that he makes me feel. It seems so long since we’ve been together, and to myself, I admit: I miss him. Miss the hell out of him, actually. I know that what he did, he did for me. For my benefit alone, not for him or anyone else. No way could I ever stay angry at that, and I’m not so sure why I was so pissed to begin with. No, that’s a fat lie. I do know why. Because he freaking bit me. I do understand why, though. I know he did it because he loves me. Deeply. I get that.
As Eli stands, he says nothing. Only stares. And waits. The wood surrounding us is wildly alive, yet acutely silent. Suddenly, his presence overwhelms me. It almost…crowds me.
His eyes say everything.
Instinctively, I go to him. As if I’m just laying eyes on him for the very first time, I’m drawn to his scent, his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the fall of his hair. He mesmerizes me, and yet now, I know him. I know his behavior. I know what’s in the heart he swears he doesn’t even have. I know his soul that he swears is hell bound. He’s wrong about that. Never have I met a more caring soul. I crave him even more than before.
The moon, rising higher, bathes Eli in a silvery hue, making him look like the surreal, mystical, cryptic vampire he is.
Every bit the fierce and loyal vampire he truly is.
Magnificent.
It makes my heart race.
A biting wind whips through the air, stirring the canopy above, and carrying with it anticipation, excitement, as though the wild Carpathians knew what was up, what was about to occur, and waved their encouragement.
An ancient feel accompanies that wind, and it makes a tingle cross my spine, wrap around each vertebra, and nip. I’ve gone too long without Eli, without feeling like myself, and although I don’t even know who myself is anymore, there is one constant now that feels right. Him. I shiver, and Eli grasps my fingers as though he knows, without words, without being able to read my mind, what I feel. He probably does. Silently, we walk. I’m not sure how long we walk like that, fingers laced, shoulders brushing, but it’s a while. How Eli knows where he’s going is a mystery to me. I simply trust him and
soon, a small stone lodge appears. Smoke trails from a single chimney. It’s not the same place he’d taken me to before. Without a word, he leads me up the walk and through the front door. Inside, all is dark except the embers burning red in the hearth.
He retrieves a large quilt thrown over the back of a sofa, and he lays it on the floor in front of the fire. Kneeling there, he grabs a poker and stokes the embers, adds a log until the flame grows. I stand silently, watching the play of light lick his face, his jaw, and throw his eyes in shadow. To me he is the most breathtaking soul I’ve ever laid eyes on. Then Eli rises and turns. His eyes lock on to mine. We say nothing. Only stare.
Everything freezes in that moment as Eli stands, staring, the light from the fire glinting off his hungry eyes. Ancient eyes that know secrets, have powers, have seen so many things. He could have anything and anyone in the world that he wanted. A rich, high society, untarnished young woman, maybe.
Yet, he chooses to be here, with me. With me and all of my tarnishes.
My pulse quickens, as fast as it will anyway, and blood rushes on powerful thrusts in my veins as I lock eyes with his. Eli’s muscular chest rises and falls in a rapid, irregular rhythm, his jaw flexing, making the shadows jump on his face.
“Take off your boots and socks.”
I blink. Before, my first reaction to the blatant, male command would have been go fuck yourself. Only Eli all but quivers with forced restraint, and he doesn’t command me as a domineering barbarian or a mind-controlling vampire, but as a wild, hungry Alpha who’s just found a delectable morsel he wishes to savor, make last, instead of gobbling it up.
Without a word, I toe off my boots. Since I have no socks, I now stand with bare feet on the smooth wood floor.
“Your jeans.”
Heat pools in my lower stomach as I unclasp each button, keeping my eyes on Eli’s. So erotic a feeling, him watching my fingers work the buttons loose, that when my thumb brushes my panties, just inside the fly, it makes me shudder. I stifle a gasp, and wish it was Eli’s hand there instead. Now. Not later.
