The silence was as thick and strong as a brick wall. No music? No TV? No pings from the PSP? The hair rose on the back of my neck. Had she gone out? I doubted it. It wasn’t like her to not pick up the phone if she planned to go somewhere. She was as protective of me as I was of her. I couldn’t catch my breath. Then I realized I was trying to inhale oxygen—an unnecessary action for a vampire.
Now every hair on my body stood on end. Something’s wrong. I wrenched my hand free of Lor’s, but he grabbed my shoulder to stop me. Without making a sound, he glided down the hall and paused before my daughter’s bedroom door. Despite the fact that not a single light pierced the black, I could see perfectly well.
Fear pounded through me as I followed. With my heart in my throat, I watched Lor open the door.
We looked inside.
The boy, who looked like an escapee from a punk rock band, dropped Tamara’s limp body onto her twin bed. He spun, raising his arms in an attack position. Two daggers shot into his hands. They were at least six inches long, sharp on both sides, and aimed at me.
Chapter 10
With a snarl, I shoved Lorcan aside and in a nanosecond I had the intruder pinned against the wall by his throat. Fury ripped through me and a red haze descended over my eyes. My fangs elongated and I barely resisted the urge to plunge them into his flesh. “What did you do to my daughter?”
“I didn’t hurt her!” yelled the boy. “I am trying to help her!” His accent sounded Russian, but I didn’t particularly care where he hailed from. He brought the knives to my stomach; the sharp tips pierced my T-shirt and grazed my skin. “Let me go!”
“You can’t hurt me.” I pressed my hand deeply into his neck and he gurgled, his eyes bulging. “But I can hurt you.”
His hands fell away, but his gaze held more frustration than fear.
“Eva,” said Lorcan in a low voice, “we need to find out why he’s here and what he’s doing. You must not kill him.”
Kill him. Yes. That’s what I should do. I looked at the skin visible between my hand and his T-shirt. I contemplated sinking my fangs into his flesh and dining on him. Hunger wound through my anger and suddenly I couldn’t resist dipping closer to the boy. Kill him . . .
No, a stóirín. If you harm him, you will never forgive yourself. Let him go.
Aggrieved by my own behavior, I released the boy, who dropped to the ground and massaged his throat. His fancy knives disappeared into his sleeves again.
“Tamara,” I said as I rushed to her side. I smoothed her hair away from her too pale face. She was still breathing, but her pulse seemed shallow and erratic. Oh, God. Oh, God. I wanted to cry, but vampires weren’t allowed tears. My hands fluttered around her. What could I do? She was so pale. Helpless to do anything, I looked at Lor. His gaze was riveted on her, his lips pulled into a grimace.
I followed his line of sight. On her neck were two spots of blood. Rage reignited in an instant. I wheeled around. “You little bastard!”
Lorcan stepped between us, just as I rose and lurched for the boy again. He said, “Solas.”
Green balls of light flickered into the room. They floated around as pretty as dancing fairies. Had I seen those lights before? A vague memory flickered, then was lost.
I reined in my temper for the second time. I glared at the young man wobbling to his feet. He had loose black hair, cut in jagged lengths around his face. His shirt was black, as was his leather jacket, which was riveted with silver studs and chains. His jeans were faded and ripped, tucked into black biker boots.
“She’s only fifteen,” I said.
“So am I,” he retorted hoarsely.
“You’re a vampire,” I accused. “You could’ve turned fifteen six months ago or sixty years ago.” I felt a momentary sense of pity. No matter when he’d been made a vampire, he hadn’t had a chance to grow up fully.
“I am not a vampire,” said the boy venomously. “I am a vampire hunter.”
Shocked to my toes, which after the last couple of hours I wouldn’t have thought possible, I sank down next to Tamara and stroked her hair. Sick with worry and fear, I focused on my daughter. What had happened to her? Had someone attacked her? Or had she offered herself as a vampire snack?
“You are a Roma warrior,” said Lor.
“And you are a muló.”
“No matter what you believe, I am not a ghost inhabiting a man’s form. I own my soul.” Lorcan kneeled next to me. His eyes were alight with empathy and concern. “I can transport her to the hospital, Eva.”
I knew he meant he would be able to zap her there. Older vampires learned how to dissemble and reassemble their bodies in a way that was very Star Trek. Only the really old vamps could take themselves and someone else. I nodded, even though it killed me to be away from her for even a few minutes. “What about him?”
“You will accompany Eva,” said Lorcan to the boy. “After we get medical attention for Tamara, you will tell us why you broke into Eva’s home and tried to kidnap her daughter.”
The boy crossed his arms. “You cannot glamour me, vampire. I am resistant to your powers.”
“I am not trying to bend your will,” said Lor. “I’m reminding you that the Roma have a peace treaty with the Consortium. You do not hunt our members.”
His dark eyes flickered with anger. Then he nodded sharply. “I will do as you ask.”
Lorcan scooped Tamara into his arms. He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “All will be well, Eva. I promise.”
He and my daughter disappeared in a shower of gold sparkles. I turned toward the Roma hunter. “Do you have a name?” I asked.
“Durriken.”
He pronounced it “DOO-reek-en.” His accent wasn’t Russian after all. I couldn’t pinpoint it, and honestly, I didn’t care. Weary, starved, and eager to get to the medical facility, which had been completed mere weeks ago, I pointed to the door. “Let’s go.”
“You say the girl is your daughter, but you are dead.”
“I had her before I got undead,” I snapped. “And you’d do well to remember to address your elders with more respect.”
Durriken flashed a grin, looking more like the boy he was than the warrior he claimed to be. “You are a mother, no doubt.”
We left the house and though it killed me not to run to the hospital and leave Durriken behind, I knew it wasn’t wise. Instead, we got into my yellow VW. Had I been alone, I would’ve raced through the streets and made hairpin turns. Unfortunately, my passenger wouldn’t survive a crash, so I only went twenty miles faster than the posted speed limits.
By the time we arrived at the hospital, Durriken was clutching the sides of his seat and looking green. I thought it a fine, if petty, revenge. The cuts on my stomach had already healed, but my T-shirt was done for.
The new hospital had been built on the same ground occupied by the old Broken Heart hospital. It had been one of the first buildings bulldozed. The new building was three stories, white as the frosting on a wedding cake, and filled with state-of-the-art equipment designed to help humans and parakind.
Durriken staggered from the car, then glared at me. “Next time I will walk.”
“Suits me,” I said.
We hurried to the front entrance. Lorcan waited for us in the small, well-appointed lobby. “Dr. Merrick says Tamara is stable. Her room is on the third floor. I called Patrick and Jessica. They will be here soon.”
“Thanks.” We followed Lor into an elevator. I felt dizzy and my fangs refused to retract. My stomach roiled. As the elevator stopped, I felt as though the floor was falling away. I grasped the wall and tried to get my balance.
“You must feed,” said Lor.
“I will,” I said, licking my lips. All the moisture seemed to have left my mouth.
Seconds later, I stood over my daughter’s hospital bed. Tamara looked like a porcelain doll tucked into a cotton-filled box. An IV was inserted into her left arm and a device on her forefinger hooked her up to a monitoring machine.
; A blond woman stood nearby. The buttoned white lab coat covered most of her clothes, but I could see the legs of her black slacks and her thick-soled black shoes.
She smiled. “I’m Dr. Merrick. Tamara is stable, though still unconscious. We’re putting fluids back into her system.” She gestured to the IV.
“What happened to her? Did a vampire . . .” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“I’m afraid so, Mrs. LeRoy.”
“It’s ‘Miss,’ ” I said automatically. I reached down and took Tamara’s hand.
Lorcan wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He held me close and I leaned in, grateful for his comfort. I’d never had another person to lean on. For a while, I’d had my mother to help me and then I’d had Tamara. Suddenly, I realized how alone I’d been. I hadn’t allowed anyone to get too close. I had kept mine and Tamara’s relationship as the cornerstone of my life. Without her, I had no one.
“Given her paleness and her exhaustion, it’s my opinion that whoever fed from her took more than was necessary. As you know, most vampires need only a pint daily to sustain them. And most have more than one donor, so that each donor has at least forty-eight hours of recovery between feedings.”
Would Tamara have offered herself as a donor? Somehow I didn’t think so. Tamara might’ve been a kid, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew the dangers of being a donor just as she knew the dangers of being alone with vampires. I was the only one with whom she was truly safe.
“She needed her mother—and I just left her there.” Guilt stabbed at me sharply and without mercy. My sweet baby. My eyes ached with the need for tears. Instead, I clutched her hand and offered silent apologies.
I turned to Durriken. “Why did you break into our house?”
His gaze flicked to Lor. “I hunt the one known as Nefertiti. My grandfather hunted her . . . then my father did . . . and now I do as well.”
“You tracked her here?” asked Lorcan.
Durriken shook his head. “My father and I heard about the odd town in Oklahoma and the stories about her bonding with the actor Johnny Angelo. We were told Angelo was here and so his wife must be here, too.”
“How has she escaped you for so many years?” I asked.
“She has not been seen since the night she bound with Johnny,” said Durriken. “My grandfather tracked her to Los Angeles and was close to capturing her. Then she just . . . disappeared.”
He turned to look at me. “I was scouting near your home and I smelled her.”
“Smelled her?” I frowned.
“The Roma have very developed senses, which helps us find our prey,” he explained. “Nefertiti’s scent was imprinted on me when I joined the hunt. And I can smell a blood-full vampire at twenty paces.” His gaze flickered over Tamara. “I went inside to find Nefertiti, but she was gone. So, I tended to her victim.”
Guilt washed over me anew. I had been within a fang’s inch of hurting him.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry that I nearly . . . uh, wounded you.”
“If you mess with a cub, you risk the wrath of the lioness. You have the heart of a warrior. This I respect.” He nodded approvingly, and darn if I didn’t feel vindicated. “I must report to my father. Do not worry, Lorcan, we will not leave the area.”
“If you need a room . . .” I said uncertainly.
“We prefer to stay close to the land, but I thank you.” He bowed to us and turned to leave.
“Wait,” I said. “If you know Nefertiti is bound to Johnny, then you know that to kill her is to kill him.”
Durriken shrugged. “We do not wish to harm an innocent. But Nefertiti is not a Consortium member and so we can hunt her. She is subject to the laws of the Roma and she must pay for her misdeeds.”
“What did she do?” I asked.
“She is a war criminal,” said Durriken. “During World War Two, she was part of a special unit that was instrumental in the capture, torture, and deaths of hundreds of Roma.”
Oh, my God. Nausea crowded my throat. “Why would she and her unit target Roma?”
“Why else? They wanted to exterminate us.”
He hadn’t exactly answered my question. Why would Nefertiti want to kill Roma?
Durriken wasn’t sticking around to answer more questions. He bowed again to us, then left, the hospital door swinging shut behind him.
Since Nefertiti had fed on Johnny and had sex with him, she bound them together for the next hundred years. Obviously she hadn’t done so out of love.
“I thought bound vampires couldn’t be apart for long,” I mused, thinking about how Johnny had spent fifty years searching for his accidental bride.
“It depends on the vampires and the binding,” Lor said. “The bond between Nefertiti and Johnny was purely sexual. Bindings that occur between vampires with strong emotional ties tend to have more strictures. Johnny can travel where he likes, feed normally, and live as any other deamhan fola. But he cannot mate—not until his binding is complete.” His gaze pinned mine. “Eva, did you know Nefertiti was in Broken Heart? Is that why you were in the forest last night?”
I stared at him, unaccountably hurt. “Why would you think that?”
He couldn’t answer me, but inspiration hit me like a two-by-four.
“You knew she was here.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Who attacked you? And why have you been skulking in the woods?”
He drew me away from Tamara. “About a month ago, we started getting reports about a woman appearing and disappearing near donor homes. From the description, we believed it might be Nefertiti, but she’s never revealed herself before. We thought she’d gone to ground.”
“Why would you think that?”
“She disappeared, but Johnny remained alive and healthy,” said Lorcan, frowning. “The same lycans that chased you also attacked me.”
If he was going to give a little, I figured I could, too. “I was there because I was looking for Lucky.”
Lorcan’s expression was skeptical.
“There’s this wolf, okay? He started hanging around three or four weeks ago. Every night he visits me, but lately he’s been missing. I was worried he was injured, but maybe he just moved on.” Sadness hit me like a wave. It was so silly to feel bad about the wolf.
“You were looking for a wolf?” His eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “And you named him Lucky?”
“Yes. He seemed to need luck. He always seemed rather sorrowful.” I sighed. “He never got close enough for me to pet him.”
“You have such compassion, a stóirín,” he said softly. “Would you feel better if you could pet your Lucky?”
It was an odd question. But still, I nodded. I wanted to hug that wolf and let him know that someone on this earth cared about him.
My fangs had finally receded, but I knew that if I didn’t eat soon, I might well faint. I glanced at Tamara. She was still asleep, but the machine monitoring her heart and breathing beeped reassuringly. Dr. Merrick waved to me as she discreetly exited the room. “I’ve only heard about Nefertiti from Jessica. Why would she feed off Tamara?”
“Because she couldn’t feed off anyone else. We alerted the donors and tightened security.”
“But you didn’t tell Johnny.”
“No. We didn’t know about the Roma, either.” He looked worried. “I’ve never known the hunters to be rash. If they are hunting her as a war criminal, then I believe she is one.”
“Poor Johnny.” Empathy welled. He hadn’t chosen to be Turned or to be married to a vampire. Obviously, he’d joined the Consortium in an effort to do something productive with his eternal life. But Jess had also told me how badly he wanted to get his hands on Nefertiti—and not in a good way. “Lorcan—”
“What is it, a stóirín?”
His voice was so gentle, so understanding, I wanted to cry. Instead, I placed my hand on his arm and sought comfort in that small gesture. “I think . . . I think Nefertiti has been with Johnny all along.”
�
��What do you mean?”
“I ventured into the forbidden zone tonight because I heard someone call for help.” I pointed to my forehead. “Psychically. Lucifer called me to that spot. Maybe the Wraiths captured her and gave her to Faustus as a play-thing.”
“Wait a minute. You think that annoying feline is . . .”
I nodded. “Lucifer is Nefertiti.”
“Aw, shit.”
Jessica’s voice was low but vehement. I whirled around to see her, Patrick, and Johnny standing behind us. Johnny’s hand was still on the door’s edge, keeping it open, but it didn’t take a psychic to guess his thoughts.
Snarling, Johnny jerked on the door, wrenching it off the hinges. Patrick caught it before it crashed to the floor, but no one could catch Johnny. In the blink of an eye, he hurled himself out of the room and disappeared down the corridor.
Chapter 11
Believing no sacrifice was too great to find his beloved soul mate, the prince drank the awful potion prepared by his witch-grandmother.
For a whole day and a whole night, he suffered terribly. At the end of the second day, all that made him human had been burned away, leaving only his memories . . . and his hopes.
That evening, he awoke as súmaire fola— bloodsucker.
Every day, he found shelter under the earth or in caves. Every night, he traveled the planet, searching for the soul mate promised him. He obtained sustenance from innocents, taking only what he needed. He heeded his grandmother’s warning: If you allow your new nature to overtake you, you will forget your quest. And both you and the one destined for you will never find each other or true love.
And so he guarded himself against greed, against desperation, against anger.
Years passed.
Decades.
Centuries.
Great countries fell into ruin and were rebuilt. Mortals he befriended grew old and died. Again and again, the cycle of death and rebirth filled the endless stretch of time.
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