Then it hit her. She’d lost track of her goals. “I deserve happiness. I deserve to be loved. I want a life, my life. No one will tell me how to live it.”
In her heart she knew she needed to take action now before it was too late. With the help of the police, Jeff would find her if she didn’t move fast. Nope. The sick bastard wouldn’t get another chance.
Should she go back to the warehouse and make Trace listen? Tell him how she really felt? She would tell him that if he wanted them to be together, she would be her own person, and no one would demand that she sit back and do nothing. They would be equal partners. Either they decide things together as a team or not at all.
If he didn’t like it or her, then she’d move on. She had no choice. What else could she do at this point? At least she’d know for certain one way or another. No more running away like she’d always done in the past. The past was over, and a new Kira was here.
Kira pulled back on the highway. A SUV in the opposite lane switched into her lane at the last second as though on purpose. Sounds collided—her screams, metal ripping and tires squealing. Smoke filled the air faster than a camera flashing before her eyes.
The impact jerked her head, and pushed her car back onto the side of the road. Once the car stopped sliding and heaved to a stop, Kira touched the sore spot on her temple and came away with a wet hand. She glanced at her fingers and in the dark saw glistening blood through the small rays of light from a nearby lamppost.
The sight of the red smears on her hand made her head swim. She closed her eyes and immediately opened them again, realizing that made it worse.
Pain shot up her neck as she tried turning. She slid into the passenger seat slowly, carefully. The other car, she had to check to see if they were okay.
As she strained to open the door, she noticed a pair of brown shoes. Her gaze lifted, aiming higher and her breath caught in her throat. Oh hell.
A hand yanked her from the car and threw her to the ground. Her palms slid on the rough gravel, ripping her skin. Her knees didn’t fare any better. Twisting over onto her backside, she was ready to kick out with all her strength, which wasn’t much at this moment.
The monster standing over her smiled. Then she noticed Jeff standing next to the creature. Both glared at her with evil intent in their eyes. At that moment she knew her life could end in a second, but she wouldn’t go out without a fight.
Jeff knelt next to her and slapped her face. “Get up, bitch.”
She glared at him and touched the sting on her cheek.
“Fuck you!” She spat in his eye.
He wiped it. “Don’t worry you will.” He smiled. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. You’ll be fucking me on an hourly basis.”
“You’re crazy. You’ve done nothing for me but cause me pain.” She knew she should pay attention to the creature that stood there quietly, but, Jeff wouldn’t let up and if she could detain the creature from killing her for a few moments. That would be a plus.
Jeff’s hands flew in the air. “Done nothing for you? Are you serious? I deleted every obstacle in our way—that annoying brat of yours and Steve. You think that was nothing?”
Kira’s heart ripped open. Bile filled her throat, but was pushed down by the rage rising from within her. The sound of her pulse beat like drums in her ears. She swallowed. “You murdered them?”
He smirked. “Didn’t you know?”
Rage closed in on her. She bolted off the ground and charged him, catching him off guard. He landed on his back. She jumped on him and cold-cocked him dead in his nose. A loud crack sounded, but she didn’t care. Punch after punch of violence rode her. The pent-up guilt she felt released like a broken dam. No. She hadn’t been a bad mother. Jeff planned everything. He killed her family and then drugged her. It all made sense now. That’s why she hadn’t heard the baby. It wasn’t her fault.
“Enough,” the ugly creature hissed.
No. It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t stop.
Her arms froze. She found her body obeying his command. She fought, but pain from his angelic voice raked down her spine like nails across tin. She stood directly in front of the vampire. His tone demanded she do as he said, but something within her still knew what he was doing was wrong. His voice dripped with power.
She heard Jeff scrambling behind her. “Damn bitch. I’ll make you pay for this.”
“Silence.” The Vry pointed at Jeff, then slowly turned his gaze and hand toward her.
She screamed as his long fingernail whipped across her wrist, slicing the flesh wide open. Blood spurted like a fountain. Immediately she covered her wrist with her other hand. She was afraid she’d bleed out and die.
The crimson liquid oozed from between her fingers. Her gaze caught the rogue watching her. Thirst grew in his glowing red eyes.
Too weak to fight him, her arm shot out as an offering. What the hell was happening to her?
He licked his bottom lip. “Don’t mind if I do.”
She tried pulling away from him, but couldn’t. Her body wasn’t hers. “No,” she screamed.
Jeff stepped forward. “Wait. You said she was mine.”
“Do-not-question-me,” he roared. “Besides, you had your chance, but she beat the crap out of you.”
Jeff flew to the ground landing on his back once more. His eyes were wide with shock, his face bloody and swollen as he frowned. Jeff, she knew he was evil, but this creature in front of her was the devil himself. She dared to look back into the dark pit of his soul. His evil grin sent chills crawling down her back like centipedes. She couldn’t watch as his mouth worked on her throbbing, burning wrist.
His pointy teeth caused pain as they shredded her flesh. She fought hard not to pass out. God, please help me.
Kira’s knees buckled. Fight It. Fight It. She moaned as her knees hit the ground. Somehow she pulled her arms back. The monster leaned over still holding her hand to his mouth, he yanked her hard, forcing her to stand again. Her thoughts clouded with darkness. The desperation to beat the creature to death held strong in her mind, but her body remained in his control. She struggled to speak, to make a sound. “I’ll—kill—you,” she forced out.
The rogue pulled his bloody rotten teeth from her wrist and laughed. “I see why my brother keeps you as his pet. You’re very entertaining.”
Her mind barely registering what he said. “Jeff’s bro—”
“No. Not the pathetic human.”
Kira’s ears rang. Sleep tugged at her consciousness. No. Wake up. She shook her head, and it fell forward. Weak. So weak. She couldn’t move an aching muscle as she slid to the ground. How she wished she wouldn’t have left Trace at the warehouse. Trace.
Kira!
Trace? She blinked, her vision fading. Had she heard Trace calling her? Was she hallucinating?
Hold on. I’m coming, please hold on.
Chapter 18
Trace walked into a nightmare. Kira had called out to him, mentally connecting, and he tracked her through their new bond. Now that he had fed from her he would always be able to find her, as long as she reached out to him. It was a moment he should have cherished, but instead it was one he’d regret.
The Vry, his twin, stood over Kira’s crumpled body lying on the ground. Jeff stood blank faced next to him.
The Vry spun around, glaring. “You decided to join the party. Sorry, but we’re all out of your favorite drink.” He snarled, his blood stained teeth snapping.
No. He couldn’t be too late. Not this time. His hands fisted. He would save Kira even if it killed him. “What do you want?”
The rogue frowned. “Is that any way to greet your brother?”
“We might have the same mother, but you’re not my brother!” he spat. “You’re a Vry. I kill vermin such as you.” He stepped around the vampire. “What do you call yourself now?
“I have the same name.” The rogue twisted around, his red gaze following Trace’s every move.
“No. You’re no lon
ger Chason! He died the day you were created.” Trace chanced a glance at Kira. She had to be alive. Either way, Chason would die.
Chason narrowed his glowing eyes as Trace stalked closer. A growl erupted from the rogue’s throat. Trace charged with a blade in his hand, hitting his foul twin directly in the heart. Black tar oozed from the wound. The Vry glanced down at the hole in his chest and staggered. Shock registered on his face.
A voice came from behind Trace. “You’d try to kill your own twin?”
The voice was his brother’s. But how could that be? Trace spun around as eerie laughter erupted. Chason stood were Jeff had been merely a moment ago. Trace turned back. The man he killed had Jeff’s face and body.
Chason laughed again. “I see killing runs in the family.”
Trace cast another glance at Jeff and shook his head. “You bastard.”
Kira’s moan grabbed his attention.
Chason now held her, wrapped in his arms, her head bobbing like a rag doll. Thank God, she was alive…but for how long? His hands fisted. “I asked you before, what do you want, brother?”
“You. I want you, dead.” Chason yanked Kira’s hair. His long black tongue ran down her neck. “But, I want you to suffer first.”
Trace knew what he had to do. “Fine. Let her go. Then you can have me.”
Kira groaned, regaining consciousness. “No,” she moaned. “Don’t.”
He shook his head. “If you let her go, I’ll make sure the others can’t track us.” Trace threw his blood stained knife to the ground. “I’ll go with you and cause no trouble, but you must let her go.” He quickly eyed her gash on her wrist. The blood seemed to have slowed.
The rogue tilted his head and said nothing.
“They’ll be here soon if you don’t decide now.”
Chason shoved Kira to the ground. A grunt escaped her lips. Trace started to run to her, but the rogue cut off his path and gripped his arm. “I know the perfect place to take you.”
*******
Kira’s body ached from top to bottom. Her hands and knees were bloody and burned. Her head spun from the loss of blood, she saw a figure on the ground. She gasped. It couldn’t be Trace.
With her legs trembling, she crawled toward the body. Jeff. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she held, and hesitantly placed a finger on his neck, trying to find a pulse. Nothing. Scrambling backward like a crab, shaking her head she realized she hated Jeff more than anyone in her entire life. It wasn’t fair that someone else had killed him. She would have preferred to have done it herself. The bastard killed her child and her husband.
Kira stood on wobbly legs, head still spinning. Glancing at the wrecked car on the side of the road, she limped toward it and managed to slide into the seat. The engine roared to life. Thank God, the accident only damaged the frame, at least she hoped so. As she drove, it seemed like an eternity before she reached Trace’s house. Weak, she rested her head on the steering wheel for a brief second trying to calm herself. “Mike, please be here.”
She struggled out the car, and stumbled on trembling legs. She reached Trace’s front door and banged so hard her hand hurt.
The door swung open. Mike stood in the doorway scanning her.
“Where’s Trace?” he demanded.
She wiped her eyes. “The Vry. He took him,” she cried. “Please help.”
Mike’s body shook with anger as he closed his eyes. She knew he searched for Trace, trying to connect with him. “Shit. The connection is blocked.” He lowered his head.
Kira shook her head. “No. You’ve got to do something.”
Mike narrowed his eyes and then stared coldly behind her. “Who the hell are you?”
The hair on the back of her neck stood. Kira pivoted and gaped at three of the scariest men she’d ever seen.
They stood silent and stared back. Deciding she might be in the middle of something terrible, she stepped next to Mike. She didn’t want to believe things could get any worse, because after everything she’s seen and been through she knew that would be a lie.
The men appeared to belong to a street gang. Tattoos covered most of their thick arms and the sides of their necks.
Mike nodded. “So, who’s Landyn?”
The man with the least amount of leather and tattoos stepped forward. He didn’t offer his hand, he just nodded.
“I am.” He gestured to his left. “Spyder,” he said then glanced to his right. “Drago.” They all sized Mike up. “Dev requested our help. What is it you exactly need?”
Kira swallowed and stepped toward him. “A rogue took Trace. We don’t have much time,” she yelled. They were wasting time standing here.
Mike grabbed her arm and pulled her back. His eyes never leaving Landyn’s. “Our priorities have changed. First we get Trace, then we kill the Vry.”
“Where was Trace last?” Spyder asked, and narrowed his eyes.
Finally, some action. “I can take you,” Kira offered.
Spyder moved closer to her, and she flinched. “No need. Close your eyes.”
Kira stared back at him, hesitating. She glanced at Mike.
Mike nodded, although it didn’t make her feel safer. She closed her eyes anyway. What was he doing? He placed his hands on the crown of her head. His breath blew her hair, he smelled like a campfire. Smoky. Her head hurt suddenly as a pressure of pulling and pushing inside her mind grew, expanding. Then nothing, the pain eased.
“There’s a connection bond between them, but he’s blocked the thread.” He moved his hands toward the crown of her head and tilted his head back. “Blurry, but I think I can find him.”
Kira stumbled forward when Spyder removed his hands and disappeared. She blinked in surprise. “Where’d he go?”
“He’s tracking.” Landyn shot her a look that made her take a step back. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”
Mike inhaled deeply and glanced at her again. “Go inside. Tend to your wounds first, and then meet us in the great room.”
“I’m fine. Let’s find Trace now,” she said.
Mike groaned while he glanced at her blood stained clothes. “It would be best if you cleaned your cuts first.”
She wasn’t sure, but she felt someone probing her mind. She shook her head. “Don’t do that!”
Mike’s brow rose and he tilted his head. “You felt me?”
“Of course. Just like the other guy.” She closed her eyes. “The pressure is like a balloon blowing up inside my head. It hurts.” She rubbed her forehead. “Except I don’t feel Trace as much. If I know he’s doing it, then I do.”
Mike exchanged odd glances with Landyn and Spyder. Seemed they communicated without speaking. Mike narrowed his eyes. “Then do as I ask and go inside and clean up.”
She stared at him. Why was he shocked that she could feel his probing around in her head? And why was he trying to get rid of her so fast?
He growled. “If I must spell it out. Your blood is distracting.”
She felt her jaw slack. Oh God! “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about that.” She glanced at the raw skin on her wrist, and then the rip in her pants noticing the smears of red. She nodded and then ran upstairs.
She found her bag on a chair in the room, grateful Trace had Mike retrieve some of her things from her house. There was no way she could go back there. Not yet. She pushed her torn pants off and rushed into the bathroom, searching for any type of medicine to put on her knees and hands. Nothing. The cabinet was empty. She grabbed a washcloth, wet it and dotted her injuries carefully, just enough to get the dirt out. She slowly slipped on a pair of soft black jeans. She flinched as the material glided across her cuts. She swallowed the pain and tugged on a pale yellow tank, and pulled a grey long sleeve t-shirt over it.
She pressed two fingers to her aching head as she stared into the oval gold trimmed mirror above the sink. Her eyes had sunken in, and dark rings surrounded them. Her cheeks were blotchy. “What a mess. I look like I just crawled out of a gutt
er.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I feel like it, too.”
“Oh Trace. Where are you?” They would find him. They had to. Trace could even be on his way back right now. The Vry who claimed to be Trace’s brother didn’t have a chance in hell. Not since the guys arrived. She shivered. They scared her even more than Mike had. “Let’s go get him,” she said to her reflection. This was her last chance to love once again, and she wouldn’t let this opportunity to slip away. She wouldn’t lose another piece of her heart again.
As she ran down the stairs, she said a quick prayer begging for Trace’s safety. She neared the bottom and heard Mike speaking.
“Where is he? He should be back by now.”
“Patience. Spyder is the best tracker we have. He’ll find him,” Landyn said.
She heard Mike pacing back and forth like a caged lion. She entered the room and noticed the worry lines etched in his face. He ran his hand through his hair. “If he’s not back in five, I’m going to hunt for him myself.”
“Understood. But, what do you think you can do without our help? You’re a newborn compared to the three of us,” Landyn said.
“Maybe, but I know how he thinks.”
“You might know how the old Trace thinks, but if…”
Kira couldn’t hear the rest of what he’d said. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. All because of her, Trace’s life was in grave danger.
Chapter 19
Trace blinked trying to focus through the blood running into his eyes. His legs and arms were bound to a steel chair with a material he couldn’t rip apart. His head swam as blood poured from his veins into large vials attached to each arm.
Chason was draining him dry. Why didn’t he drink from him the old fashioned way? Why the vials? What did he want with his blood? Was he saving it?
His heart ached more than the torture being done to his body. After finding the only woman to make him feel alive, here he was dying in this abandoned metal building. His head fell forward, his mouth too dry to mumble a word.
Not An Angel (A Poryria Vampire Novel (Book 1)) Page 15
