Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10)

by D. B. Reynolds

  He slammed open the front door and heard a woman’s angry yell. Natalie? He turned in the direction of the cry, striding down the main hallway toward the center stairs, and there she was, being manhandled by some asshole.

  Christian took the stairs in a single leap, still running on the high of Hubert’s death. He rammed his hand into the asshole’s back, smashed through his ribs, and crushed his heart. Natalie froze as the vampire’s dust covered her. She turned to face him, and he waited for her to react. It was pretty disgusting.

  But she didn’t seem to notice the dust. Her face split into a huge smile and she threw herself into his arms. “You’re alive.”

  Christian hugged her close. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Anthony said you were dead.”

  “Anthony’s a traitor and a liar. Where is he?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. He locked me up in the basement, but I broke out—”

  “He wouldn’t expect that,” he said.

  “He thought he vamped me, but you were already there in my heart, and he couldn’t—”

  “You’re mine, chére. No one else’s.”

  “But he didn’t know—”

  Their reunion was cut off by the thundering arrival of Anthony’s security force. They swarmed down from the second floor, filling the landing between two flights. Christian shoved Natalie behind him, pushing her against the wall. “Stay there,” he ordered, then turned to face the arriving vamps. There were ten or more, the best of Anthony’s guards, his inner wall of security. They belonged to Anthony, body and soul, and would fight to the death to protect him.

  Christian was still burning with the power boost he’d gotten from Hubert’s death. He waded into the crowd, using his fists as much as his power, disabling one after the other, knocking them unconscious and reinforcing it with his power to keep them down. He was aware of Natalie, holding her position against the wall behind him, aware of Marc, fighting by his side. He heard the distant slam of the front doors, and then a new contingent of vampires arrived, launching an attack from below. With a mental warning to Marc, Christian spun to confront this new threat. He raced past Natalie, and leapt down to the floor before the new arrivals could set foot on the stairs. He fought without thinking, moving on instinct, his vampire senses warning him of each new danger as he whirled from side to side, crushing skulls and stopping hearts, sparing lives where he could.

  He’d just dropped the last opponent when he heard Natalie’s furious scream. He turned as if in slow motion to see his worst nightmare coming true. Marc was down one knee, muscles straining as he struggled to rise. Above him stood Anthony, his face a determined grimace as he poured all of his power as a vampire lord—the power of all the Southern vampires he still ruled—into destroying Marc. He lifted his gaze to Christian, and his expression turned gleeful as he pulled a stake from behind him, and raised it over Marc’s bowed back.

  Terror seized Christian as he raced up the stairs, knowing he couldn’t get there in time, knowing Marc was about to die. He threw everything he had into a blast of power, but Anthony’s shields were flush with power, and Christian had no time to craft a better weapon. He saw the stake coming down, caught the strain on Marc’s face as he fought to break free.

  Christian howled as the stake flashed downward . . . and then a gun boomed, and the stake fell from nerveless fingers. Anthony clutched at the bloody hole in his stomach, then looked up to stare at Natalie in disbelief, betrayal written clearly across his face. The wound wasn’t enough to kill him, but it disabled him for just long enough.

  Christian was on him a second later, gripping his neck, taking away his breath and draining the once Lord of the South of every ounce of power remaining to him. He held on until the asshole was little more than a shriveled husk. And then he ripped his head off, and tossed it down the stairs where it dusted in mid-bounce.

  Christian dropped immediately to his knees next to Marc, placing a hand on the back of his neck and gripping tightly. He held his position until finally Marc looked up and met his eyes.

  “He was too strong. I couldn’t—”

  “Stop,” Christian said. “You fought three battles while that fucker was packing his bags for New Orleans. And then he had the balls to suck power away from the very people he was getting ready to abandon. You’re strong, mon ami, but not even you can hold out against the power of an entire territory.”

  Marc nodded, his exhaustion visible, even after the power infusion he’d gotten from Christian. He needed blood and sleep. Christian squeezed the back of his neck in reassurance, then leaned forward to kiss the top of his head. It wasn’t until then that he looked up to see Natalie watching.

  He rose to his feet, worried about what her reaction would be to the way he’d killed Anthony, despite the soft look in her eyes for Marc. “I’m sorry you had to see—”

  “What?” she interrupted. “That pervert Anthony turned into a shriveled mummy? Or the other jerk who called me a bitch turned to dust? Fuck that. They deserved it. Although, I wouldn’t mind a shower. The dust thing was a little icky.”

  Christian started to laugh, but then the weight of the territory crashed into his brain, and he fell to his knees. Natalie cried his name, but it sounded distant, as if she was miles away. And the deep rumble of Marc’s voice was sound without words. All he could hear were the thousands of vampires who comprised the Southern territory, a jumble of voices arguing, begging, shouting, and none of them understanding what was happening. Anthony had been loosening his hold on the territory for weeks in anticipation of Hubert’s takeover, and it showed in the confusion of his people. Christian forced himself to concentrate through the pain, to stretch out his awareness into the cacophony of voices and emotions. He embraced the whole and the individual, wrapping them in compassion, confidence, and above all, control. He was their lord and they would, by God, stop fucking whining!

  Silence. Followed by a low murmur of agreement and relief that slowly faded away into more of a feeling than a noise. Christian sucked in a deep breath. He sat back on his heels, hands limp on his thighs, head hanging.

  This had been one hell of a night. All he could think about was blood, sex, and sleep. Hopefully in that order, and all with the same person.

  A soft touch to his cheek had him raising his head to find Natalie kneeling next to him, with a worried look on her face.

  “Time to go home, chére,” he said wearily.

  “What do we do about all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the piles of dust and the occasional disintegrating body part.

  Christian looked around. “It’ll all be gone by morning. Let’s go.”

  Natalie helped him to his feet, which wasn’t necessary, but it felt good, so he let her do it. He reached down, and gave Marc a hand up, and together the three of them walked slowly down the hall. Just before they reached the front door, Natalie asked a question she seemed afraid to have answered. “What about Jaclyn?”

  Christian’s arm was around her shoulders. He squeezed briefly and said, “She’s fine. Cibor’s with her.”

  Natalie blew out a relieved breath, as tears filled her eyes. “I thought maybe—”

  “I know,” he said, kissing away the tears. “But Jaclyn’s tougher than she looks. By tomorrow night, she’ll be pissed as hell, and good as new.”

  They walked out into the last hours of the night, and over to the BMW, which was parked right where they’d left it. Natalie looked at the car, and the two dark furrows of dirt left by Marc’s emergency route over the grass, then held out her hand for the keys. “I’m driving,” she announced.

  Marc didn’t argue, and neither did Christian. All he wanted was to get home, and get Natalie in bed before sunrise. If she thought driving them home herself would get them there faster, he was all for it.

  “Keys are in the car.” H
e walked around to the passenger door, while Marc climbed into the back and stretched out.

  The estate seemed almost deserted as they sped down the long, curved driveway and out through the wide-open gate. Christian would have to come back tomorrow night to count the casualties, and comfort the survivors. But for now, he simply relaxed into the BMW’s fine leather seat and reveled in the knowledge that he was, by his own hand, Lord of the South.

  NATALIE DROVE QUICKLY, but without the flash she associated with Marc’s driving. He had vampire reflexes on his side; she was just human. But she didn’t regret that for one minute. Because it was her humanity that Christian wanted, her human blood that he needed. She’d seen the lust burning beneath the exhaustion in his eyes, and it made her hunger for him in a way that would have had her own eyes burning if that had been possible. Who would have believed that her father’s good little girl would be sitting here right now, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation of getting home and into bed with a vampire?

  There was so little traffic that the trip was short, despite her sensible driving, and it wasn’t long before she was turning down Christian’s street. The house was completely shuttered up. She pulled into the driveway, and Christian pushed a button on the overhead console to open the garage door. She found herself worrying about the security risk posed by the ordinary garage door, until she saw that the door to the house was shuttered as tightly as all of the other doors and windows.

  Christian held her hand while he flipped up the cover on an alarm panel, and entered a release code that was a lot more than six digits. This was clearly a custom system, and, moreover, obviously designed for vampires. Apart from the shutters, which weren’t exactly standard in the upscale Houston neighborhood, the multiple codes for different functions were something she’d never seen before. Anthony had been proud of his vault down in the basement, but he didn’t have anything like this. She shuddered suddenly, remembering her recent imprisonment, and Anthony’s plans for her.

  “Don’t think about it,” Christian murmured, pulling her closer to his side.

  Natalie glanced at him. How the hell did he know what she was thinking? She’d have to ask him sometime when they weren’t all dragging their feet with exhaustion. The heavy shutter rolled up with a muted hum, and Marc pushed through and into the house. Christian and Natalie were right behind him.

  The house was quiet, mostly dark, except for a light on in the kitchen. Why was it always the kitchen light that people left on? Even vampires left it on, and the kitchen was hardly a gathering place for them.

  The basement door opened, and Cibor emerged, looking more worn than she’d ever seen him. She looked up, meeting his tired gaze. “Jaclyn?” she asked.

  “She’s sleeping it off. Between her own recuperative ability and Christian’s blood, the damage is almost healed. What she needs now is sleep.”

  “She needs you,” Natalie corrected him softly.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “She’s got me.” He shifted his attention to Christian and asked, “Anthony?”

  “Dust in the wind,” Christian informed him.

  Cibor smiled, and gave a little bow. “Lord Christian.”

  “Call me that tomorrow night. I might have the energy to believe it.”

  The big vampire laughed, then turned and started back down the stairs. Marc moved to follow, and Natalie tensed. Would Christian walk her to the guest bedroom and leave her there again? Had she earned enough of his trust that he would let her sleep next to him, wake next to him in his own bed?

  He waited until Cibor and Marc had both disappeared down the stairs, before turning to pull her close, his arms around her waist, his fingers resting at her lower back, just above her butt. She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him in question, her stomach doing backflips, as she waited for the inevitable rejection.

  “Do you love me, Natalie?” he asked, surprising the hell out of her.

  Natalie stared up at him, her heart pounding so hard, she thought his vampire ears must be able to hear it. Did she love him? Of course she did. The pain she’d felt when she thought he was dead had forced her to acknowledge that. But could she admit it to him? Could she lay herself open and risk being torn apart? If she didn’t, if she told Christian she wasn’t sure or some other bullshit, she’d never see him again. And she would regret that forever.

  “I love you,” she said, and the mixture of terror and relief those three words conjured up had her body so confused, that it didn’t know whether to run or stay.

  Christian gave her his beautiful smile, and tightened his arms around her. “Mon cœur est tien, Natalie.”

  My heart is yours. She knew enough Cajun French to understand that, and her heart squeezed so much that it hurt.

  “Christian,” she breathed. And he kissed her, his lips touching hers gently at first, then harder as the kiss was filled with all the passion and terror of the previous hours. She clung to his broad chest, her fingers clenched in the thick cotton of his shirt, kissing him back until her lungs were begging for air. She rocked on her feet when he finally lifted his mouth, and she rested her forehead against him as she sucked in air.

  He hugged her, chuckling softly. “Can you breathe?”

  Natalie looked up at him with a smile. “I can now, but it was worth it.”

  “That’s good to know. Shall we go to bed? The sun is very nearly up, and I have plans.”

  She grabbed his hand and turned toward her bedroom. “Let’s go,” she said, but he pulled her back.

  “Not there, ma chére.”

  Her eyes widened hopefully. “Are you sure?”

  “Are you? Once that door closes, it doesn’t open until sunset, and I’m not exactly a lot of fun in the meantime.”

  “Oh,” she said suddenly remembering. “Let me get my laptop!” She hurried down the hall to the bedroom that had been hers, grabbed her laptop, her toothbrush, and a nightgown, then ran back to where a bemused Christian was waiting for her. “I’m ready.”

  He took the laptop from her, grabbed her hand, and led her down the stairs.

  A zing of excitement shimmered along Natalie’s nerves, and she had to admit it wasn’t just the thought of getting Christian naked. She was going to see the secret room! It was like taking a tour of the bat cave, and she was endlessly curious.

  Christian led her past a huge vault-like door at the foot of the stairs. He set her laptop on a nearby counter, then turned to shove the heavy door shut. While he punched in yet another code to lock the door, Natalie examined the room they’d just entered. Computers were lined up on a table against the far wall, and screens filled the space above them, with the largest one being a huge, wide-screen TV monitor. She noticed a couple of different game consoles, and tried to imagine Christian and Marc down here playing Tomb Raider or Witcher. Actually, after seeing them in action, she could totally picture those two getting into Call of Duty. The thought made her want to laugh, but she swallowed it. She didn’t think laughter was the reaction Christian expected from her first sight of the bat cave.

  He picked up the laptop, and took her hand to pull her through the computer room and down a hallway. There were two doors on each side of the corridor, and a door at the far end. The first two doors to either side, and the door at the end, were closed, but Marc stepped out of the open door on the far left. He smiled at her, then said to Christian, “Cibor and Jaclyn are there.” He indicated the closed door next to the one he’d stepped out of, then pointed at the door opposite. “Scoville’s in that one, and Alon’s still in yours.”

  “Alon?” she said eagerly. “Can I see him?”

  “Tomorrow,” Christian told her. “He’s sound asleep right now.”

  “But he’s okay?”

  He nodded. “He’s fine. But, Natalie,” he said, giving her a serious look. “He’ll be different.
He’s a vampire now.”

  “I know,” she said, although she was beginning to suspect that she really didn’t. “But he’ll still be Alon. I’m just happy he’s alive.”

  Christian gave her a skeptical look, but didn’t push her on it. Either because he figured she had to see it to believe it, or maybe because he didn’t want to spend the little bit of time they had before sunrise talking about Alon’s new life as a vampire.

  “Did Marc say Scoville was here? I thought he was with Anthony?”

  “Anthony hung him out to dry, so he’s had a change of heart. He’s with me now.”

  She had questions about that, but decided she was too tired to pursue them tonight, as Christian wrapped his hand around her hip and urged her into the room opposite Marc’s. “See you at sunset,” he called to Marc. He pushed her all the way inside and closed the door behind them.

  Natalie found herself in a room that wasn’t all that different from the guest room upstairs, except that the bed was bigger, and the décor much more masculine. Lamps on either side of the bed gave off a slight golden glow through pleated tan shades, and the lamp bases were porcelain with an elaborate gold and maroon design. The bed itself was a simple black leather headboard, with bed linens in two shades of gray, and lots of pillows. An en suite bathroom opened off to one side, and there was a good-sized closet behind a sliding, mirrored door.

  Christian set her laptop on a low, six-drawer dresser, then walked toward the bathroom, pulling off his T-shirt as he went. “I need a shower,” he said from inside the shirt as he yanked it over his head. When he emerged, his hair was tousled and he gave her his sexy grin. “Join me.”