Eventide tdic-3
Page 20
The moonlight spreads over him now, illuminating some of his features. Crew cut, mid-forties—an average-looking man. A pervert. A pervert with tendencies.
Internally repulsed by the disgusting threat of spurting, I sling one leg over his hips and straddle him, wriggling against his rising erection. He grabs my hips, shoving me harder against it.
“Yeah, baby, do me,” he says, his voice thick with excitement. “Take off your shirt so I can see your tits swinging in my face.” Apparently, junior here has watched one too many cheap pornos.
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I slowly pull it off and drop it on the floor. His eyes glaze over as they lock on my dragons. “Goddamn, baby, that’s hot as shit.” He lifts a hand and fingers the ink markings on my arm.
Just to give the situation an added extra, I palm his crotch. “Oh, you’re so hard,” I say. “Are you ready for me?”
He presses my hand hard against him. “Oh yeah, bitch, I’m ready all right.”
“Good.”
He grunts with what I suspect is a sexually excited moan of pleasure.
Then I rise off him, stand next to the cot, and slowly unbutton my jeans.
“Hurry up, baby,” he says, yanking his zipper down and groping himself. “I’m gonna come all over my–Humph!”
The wind leaves his lungs in a painful, gurgling gush as I raise my leg and slam the heel of my boot down hard on his crotch. He gasps a few times, ineffective little puffs of wind as he curls into a ball, hands cradling his privates.
Wasting no time, I rear my foot back again and catch him full force under the chin, sending him sprawling off the cot.
“Bitch!” he wheezes, spitting.
Another stomp to the groin sends the guard into a spasm of air sucking and cussing.
Dropping to my knees, I fish in his pocket for the tie-wraps I’d felt while straddling him. Grabbing a handful, I quickly bind his feet.
The guard reaches for something, and knowing he has tendencies makes me not trust him for a single second, or waste a single move. I dive in the same direction, my fingers brushing the cutters, knocking them across the room where they ping off a wall. “Ah-ah, shithead. No getting out of the wraps.”
I stand and put my boot to his throat. “Turn onto your stomach or you’ll be whistling out of a brand new hole in your neck. Now.”
He curses, then turns over.
I drop a knee right between his shoulder blades, wrench one of his arms behind him and pin it with my weight. Quickly, I grab the other arm, then tie-wrap them together. I kneel over him, close to his ear.
“You’re going to tell me a few things,” I say, barely above a whisper. I concentrate, envisioning in my head that I can make this prick do anything I want him to do with no resistance. “And you’re going to do it quietly. Now roll over and be still.”
He does and goes completely motionless. Says nothing. Doesn’t move. But his eyes stay fixed on mine.
“Good boy. Now tell me where we are,” I command.
“The research center,” he mumbles. “Lab.”
“What research?” I ask.
“Experiments,” he says. “On blood.”
“Whose?” I demand.
“All of ours,” he mutters. “Yours. Mine. Those like us.”
The picture became clearer. “Vampires.”
He shrugs.
“Where’s Valerian Arcos?” I ask.
The guard remains silent. I give him a mental shove without even realizing how I’ve done it. Apparently, it doesn’t feel too good to have your brain pushed.
He screams.
I quickly back off.
“I’ve never seen him,” he says, whimpering. “He only talks to me in my mind. Tells me what to do, whose blood to collect.”
“How many others are here?” I ask.
“Not sure,” he answers. “Could be two dozen, could be one. They come and go.”
Just that fast, I’m tired of playing the game. I want answers.
“Where’s the lab?”
“Out and left.”
I pull my shirt back on and take off running, pushing through a single door that leads from the room and into a corridor. It has the feel of an old high school built in the fifties, with long halls and rooms on either side. The doors are closed, and only every other overhead light burns. Throwing open door after door, I find nothing. No one. It’s like the facility is abandoned.
I’m hit from behind.
Not so abandoned.
I fly—not literally, but my body leaves the ground and smashes against the wall. I drop, roll, and leap up. My hand feels for a blade down my waistband. I palm it and look.
Four young vampires. Three males, one female.
All four leap at me at once.
With two quick releases, I fling blades and down the two closest to me. I can tell I won’t make it far—they’re quick and almost on me. So I take off.
I know they’ll have a hard time catching me.
Down the corridor I run. It’s dim—almost pitch-black. I see a stairwell door and shove through and tear up the steps. In seconds I’m on the third-floor landing and I slam against the metal bar and open the door.
Six more young vampires are standing there, waiting.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Poe,” the one in front—a male with blond spiked hair—says. “He called you here for a reason.” He takes a step toward me. “You’re stayin’ a while, darlin’.”
I’ve had enough. Valerian Arcos is a danger I no longer care to have lingering in my life. He’s been able to snatch Estelle right out from under our noses.
He’s capable of anything.
He has to be stopped.
I leap at the leader. His jaws extend and teeth drop. The others follow. I ignore them all. I plunge a silver blade into his chest before my feet bound off his shoulder. As I land behind the group, they turn and descend on me. In one move I crouch, sweep out with one leg and take down the next. The blade I have palmed is buried into the newling’s flesh. She screams and falls with the others.
Three more to go.
Use your other tendencies, Riley. You don’t have to fight so hard.
Victorian’s voice echoes inside my head. For a second, it throws me off. Another newling gets close—almost too close. My reflexes are fast and I take it down, land in a crouch. I don’t wait.
I kill them all.
Their screams as their bodies break down chase me down the corridor as I start slamming open doors, searching for Valerian.
I know you’re here, Arcos! You might as well come out! I yell in my mind to Valerian. A panic grips me—a desperation to find him, to punish him, to send his ass straight to Hell. But each room I find is an empty shell, with peeling walls and broken metal furniture. It reminds me of the tuberculosis sanatoriums they used to have at the turn of the twentieth century until the forties and fifties. An unsettled sensation creeps over me as I slip through the halls. I’m alone, frustrated, frantic. Innocent people have died at this place; I can sense it. Smell it.
Taste it.
As I move, I barely notice the speed at which I’m flying through the halls. I hear the eerie echo of my feet through the emptiness, but it’s hard to register that I’m the one making the noises. I’m so goddamn fast, the walls and doors blur past me. My tendencies are many, and apparently they are as close to vampiric as a human can have.
In the next second, no fewer than a dozen newlings burst from the stairwell. They surround me, and I know then I’m beaten. No way can I concentrate long and hard enough to manipulate all of their minds; just like I can’t possibly fight them all. They descend upon me.
I let them.
One grabs me by my arm and pulls me along. We leave the third floor, down the stairwell, to the second floor. At the end of the corridor, a door stands open. I’m shoved inside, and even though I stumble, I catch myself upright.
The door slams shut. The room is dark. Not one light is turned on.
I im
mediately sense his presence.
“I need something from you, Riley,” Valerian’s voice speaks from the shadows. “You have something that even I don’t possess. As a matter of fact, I’m positive there isn’t a soul alive—or not—who possesses it. You are…unique that way. Highly desirable.”
I peer into the darkness until a shape, still as stone in the corner, moves. My hand palms the blade sheathed just below the waist of my cargo pants, at the back.
“All that silver won’t do you any good with me,” Valerian says.
“What do you want with me?” I ask. I still keep my fingers wrapped around the blade.
Valerian laughs lightly. “Ah, it’s so refreshing to experience a human with tendencies who is still so…naïve.”
His voice is closer to me now, although his shadow hasn’t budged. It’s almost like he’s inside my head, speaking against my eardrum. I inch slowly toward the far wall, the sheath of my knife brushing my fingertips. Confidence races through me. “Why don’t you come out of the shadows and see how naïve I am?” I say. He doesn’t scare me.
I want to kick his ass.
Or, kill his ass.
Again, his low laugh resonates through me.
“Oh, I will certainly come out of the shadows,” Valerian says. “I’ve been looking forward to this for far too long.”
The shadows shift, and by the time I blink, and my lashes lift from my face, he’s standing before me.
He looks strikingly like Victorian.
Dark, wavy hair brushes the collar of a black silk buttoned-up shirt, tucked loosely into a pair of equally dark pants. Eyes the color of espresso stare at me, weighing, calculating. Full lips and flawless skin make him appear Godlike. He grins.
I ease my blade from its sheath.
“Tsk, tsk,” he says, and wags a finger at me. “Play nice. I’m not here to kill you, and we both know how easily I could have done that, had I wanted to.”
I keep my eyes trained on him. Waiting.
“My brother has always had a severe obsession for you,” he continues. “I have always hated him for that. You understand, don’t you? Our kind should remain with…our kind. Uniting with a mortal just isn’t feasible.”
“Why not?” I ask. My guard is up, every nerve ending on alert.
He smiles a long, slow smile and holds out his hands. “You see,” he begins. “Our kind exists forever. We’re strong. Capable. We understand our affliction. But with you? Even with tendencies, it’s not feasible to risk. You’re…weak. Vulnerable.” His smile is wistful. “I’ve learned too vulnerable.”
My interest is piqued, but I say nothing.
He notices.
Valerian paces. Slowly. Predatorlike. “You are an exception, though,” he says, and rubs his finger over the flat surface of a discarded metal cabinet. “You always have been.”
My insides lurch.
He stops behind me and smells my hair, then rounds on me. “You know, Riley,” he says, dragging a knuckle across my cheek. “You look very much like your mother. Well,” he says, smiling. “Like she used to. Before.”
Frozen inside, I lock my gaze to his. “What do you know of my mother?”
Valerian shrugs, but doesn’t break his stare. His words are slow and calculating. “I know that she was fiercely protective over you, even when you rebelled.” He steps away from me, then turns. “I also know she put up an impressive fight when your boyfriend killed her.” He shakes his head. “Stupid boy.” Then, his gaze turns white, his pupils pinpoint red. “Couldn’t follow simple directions.”
Inside of my body, my oddly mixed blood turns to ice.
A slow smile lifts Valerian’s mouth. “Ah, I see you understand now. What you might not know is that I did it for you, Riley.” He sighs. “All I ever wanted was you.”
I growl and lunge at him.
I capture nothing but air.
Valerian’s low laugh comes from behind me. “Ah, Riley. Don’t exert yourself. Save your strength,” he says, then is suddenly so close to my back, our bodies touch. His whisper brushes my ear. “You’ll need it.”
Rage roils inside of me. “You killed my mother,” I say under my breath.
“Technically, yes,” Valerian admits. “Although your young boyfriend actually did all the work.” He shakes his head again. “Messy, that one. His demise was anything but a loss. He had no fucking sense.”
I lunge again, and this time I don’t find air. I find the wall.
Then he’s behind me, pressing his body against mine. With one hand securing mine, he forces the blade from my grasp and presses his lips to my ear. Be perfectly still, Riley. Don’t move. Your limbs are weak. Your muscles frozen. Listen to me closely.
Instantly, I am unable to move.
“Ah, perfect. My brother noticed you first, but I immediately wanted you,” he says in a whisper. He drags his lips over my jaw. “Rather, I wanted your blood.”
I tense. My heart slams against my ribs, but it’s a slow slam. Adrenaline rushes.
Valerian licks my throat. “Relax, Riley,” he says. “I’m not going to kill you. That was never my intention.” With one hand, he skims my back, my hip, my ass. “Your blood was enigmatic then. Now? With that of the bloodline of my brother and me? It is irreplaceable.” He nips my jaw with his teeth. “And will make an unstoppable army.”
I feel his hard cock press against my lower back. I try to summon every ounce of vampiric strength I possess, yet nothing happens. He has me. I cringe.
Reach behind you and touch me.
As if my hand has a mind of its own, I do as Valerian says. I run my hand over his hip, then grope his crotch. He groans in my ear.
Inside, I scream. Where are my goddamn tendencies?
Only then do I hear a new voice.
Riley, damn it, concentrate! You’re stronger than he is.
My mind races as Eli’s words rush through me. Stronger? Are you kidding me? I can’t move! It’s like he has me chained down. He killed my mother, Eli. He’s watched me for all these years.
You’ve got the DNA of three strigois, the Gullah, and Dupré. Trust me. You have more strength than he could ever think of having. Use your mind, Riley. Not your physical strength. Get a grip and concentrate. And whatever you do, don’t fucking kill him.
Valerian’s hands find their way beneath my shirt, my tank, and he pulls me tightly against him. “See how easy this is for us? Me, telling you what to do, and you, doing it without question? You see, once I give you the orgasm of your entire life, I’m going to take your blood.” He kisses my throat. “Some for myself, of course, and some for morphing. We’ll make powerful children, Riley.” He wraps his arms completely around my body and embraces me. “We’ll be unstoppable.”
Concentrate!
Eli’s single command jolts me. I don’t know where he is, but it sounds as if he’s right in my ear. I draw a deep breath, clear my mind, and then focus on memories. Recent. The past. They all jumble together.
I let them.
A vision of my mother, dead, naked, pale, and lifeless, crowds my mind. Her eyes stare unseeing into mine as I drag her from the bathtub and cradle her in my arms. Another vision, of Seth’s vampiric eyes staring hungrily into mine. Of the bloodbath at Bonaventure. Of more in Charleston, and of the sickening fight club in the old rectory. Of a young marine, dead. Of Estelle, roughly handled by a newling.
My mind spins out of control as horrific images assault me. All fault lies at the feet of one. Valerian Arcos.
Inside, I rage.
My inhuman powers then merge; I can feel it occur in my body. A current of energy rushes through me and abruptly halts at my feet, then shoots back up and through my fingers, my eyes. Inside my veins, the blood there feels like lava.
Then, as fast as it starts, it stops.
I look up. And everything is suddenly crystal clear. Julian’s advice rings inside my head. I remember.
Remember your mother, Valerian? What happened to her? Did you kill her? Ge
t off me now, Valerian Arcos, and move away.
“You will not mention her!” he says vehemently. “Do not!”
But my body is released, and Valerian, slowly, moves backward.
I turn and meet his gaze. It’s wide, white, with pinpoint red pupils.
They stare at me with horror and hatred.
I give another command. It comes out of the blue, yet somehow, it’s perfect.
Suffer.
Valerian’s body begins to quiver, and his eyes widen farther still. His face contorts, but not into his vampiric image. He seems to contort into pain.
More.
A sob—male, throaty, and desperate—escapes from him. His body shakes uncontrollably. He drops to the floor. I stand over him, his eyes glaring up at me.
Agony. Fire. Strangulation.
Valerian’s body thrashes uncontrollably; his hands fly to his neck as choking noises gurgle from his throat. Satisfaction courses through me as I watch him writhe in pain, imaginary flames licking his skin. With my mind, I force the delusion on him. Harder. Faster.
“Riley, stop!”
Although I hear the voice, I can’t take my eyes off of Valerian. All the things that go along with finally finding a loved one’s killer run through me. I take pleasure in watching his pain. His anguish. It must be something similar to what my mother experienced when she died. What all of those innocent people experienced. All because of selfish, pathetic Valerian.
On my thigh, a sheath is strapped. I reach for the blade, the silver turning cool in my hand. I envision the silver slipping easily through his flesh. Ending his sorry fucking existence.
“No, chère,” the voice said calmly. “No.”
A hand goes to my shoulder. Gently. Firmly. I look up.
It takes a minute for my mind to register.
The first one I see is Eli.
Behind him, Noah, Phin, Jake, Darius, Gabriel, Seth, and Victorian.
“You can’t kill him,” Victorian says. “No matter that you want to.”