Sweet Last Drop

by Melody Johnson

  The last I’d seen him, he’d been a ball of flames. I’d assumed that if I’d survived, he’d obviously survived, but what if he hadn’t? He’d created bonds between us with our shared promises, but what if when the moment came, he couldn’t bring himself to use them to keep himself alive if it meant killing me?

  Nathan was being discharged just in time to make our evening bus into the city, and God help anyone who said otherwise, so was I. Despite a persistent, mild fever, I felt fine, and I was not staying out of the city for one moment longer than necessary. I’d had my fill of trees and cows and cavern covens, and if one more nurse referred to me as ma’am, I was going to physically maim someone.

  By eight o’clock, I was sink-showered, dressed, and if not presentable, at least decent for public display. The few things I had here at the hospital—my phone, recorder, and inexplicably, Walker’s truck keys—had been enough to corroborate my story as a bear-attack victim; I cringed at the mounting lies, but I suppose I should have felt grateful that Bex had chosen bear attack over serial murderer. Before I left for good, however, I’d need to swing by Walker’s house to pick up my luggage. My stomach cramped, thinking about that potential confrontation.

  Nathan left the room to bring the truck around front for me. I’d insisted that bringing the truck to the entrance was unnecessary, that despite a mild fever and the usual grind of my hip, I was perfectly capable of walking an extra seventy feet to the parking garage. Nathan had been adamant, and if there was one person as stubbornly single-minded as I was, it was my brother. I didn’t like having him out of my sight. Even in the short interims of using the bathroom, washing, and dressing, I felt on edge having walls between us, but I was getting the impression that the very opposite was true for Nathan.

  The scent of Christmas filled the room, seemingly more prominent than in the city, where pine is scarcer, but nonetheless unmistakable even here. I didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind me.

  “I was wondering if you would visit. You did last time,” I said, continuing to make and smooth the covers on the bed. The nurses would likely strip and change the sheets anyway, but I needed to do something to hide how my heart tripped and stuttered at the mere smell of his presence. Not that I could physically hide anything from him, anyway. If he hadn’t already heard it, he undoubtedly smelled it on me. I was relieved and grateful to see him.

  “I was wondering if I’d ever catch you alone,” Dominic said, his voice deep and somehow cautious. “Congratulations on transforming Nathan. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

  “Thank you,” I laughed, but the sound was harsh and grating. “It’s strange now that he’s himself again. When he’s out of my sight, I’m worried he’ll turn back.” I knew how unreasonable that sounded, but I couldn’t help how I felt. “After having just found him, I’m terrified of losing him again.”

  “I know the feeling,” Dominic murmured.

  The bed was smooth and crisp and completely wrinkle-free. If I smoothed it out any further, I’d create wrinkles. I sighed deeply, gathered my fortitude, and turned to face him.

  Dominic stood against the far wall next to the now open window, his shoulder leaning against the windowpane, his legs crossed at the ankles. He’d recently fed. His skin glowed in a warm, healthy complexion over his sculpted face, his scar a slightly less prominent shade of pink against the radiance of his skin. He wore navy dress pants, brown wingtip shoes, and a brown and navy checked button down tucked into a brown belt. I’d never seen him in a patterned shirt. He still looked posh and very New York City. If he thought the checkered shirt would help him blend with the country folk, he was seriously mistaken.

  I frowned at him, a sudden realization wrinkling my thoughts. I hadn’t invited him in.

  Dominic looked down at himself, mistaking my frown for disapproval. “Solids are typically my mainstay, but I thought you might appreciate some variety. Compared to our last encounter, I think there’s little risk of you ruining this shirt like you did the last.”

  I laughed. “Me? I ruined your shirt?”

  “That’s how I remember it, yes,” Dominic said, but his lips smirked in that crooked, self-deprecating half-smile.

  I crossed my arms. “I don’t suppose being impaled through the heart or engulfed by flames contributed to the destruction of said shirt.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, truly smiling now. “You’d ruined that shirt long before I caught fire.”

  I nodded, wanting to remain apprehensive in his presence, but after everything we survived, my caution seemed false. He was still dangerous. He was still a creature I couldn’t implicitly trust, a creature who schemed and bent me to his will on command, but unfortunately for my sanity, he wasn’t the monster I’d labeled him. He was just as complexly good and evil, selfless and selfish, and open and guarded as everyone else. I couldn’t categorize him on a high shelf and ignore his actions because of who or what he was; besides being a vampire, he was a man who had helped me save my brother at the risk and expense of his own safety and the safety of his coven, the very coven he feared losing. I wouldn’t forget that sacrifice.

  “The shooter was Walker,” I said, and even after I’d hardened my heart against him, or at least I thought I had, the wounds, still so fresh and raw, bled inside. I had to swallow before I could continue. “He saw me there, dying right in front of his eyes, and he walked away.” I shook my head. “He left me to die.”

  “I’m truly sorry, Cassidy. I know how much Ian Walker meant to you, as a man and as a fellow night blood,” Dominic said, and God help me, he sounded sincere. “I wish I could ease your suffering. I’d kill him if I thought that would make you happy, but even now, I know that would only worsen the situation. Unlike Ian, I know when to hold my fire.”

  I looked up sharply at the words “kill him.” Dominic’s smirk was contagious. “Not funny,” I murmured.

  “On the contrary. I find myself hilarious.”

  I sighed deeply. “And I’m glad you’re all right,” I whispered, finally voicing the fear that had burdened me all day.

  Dominic inclined his head. “I know.”

  “I know you know already—you can probably smell it on me—but I needed to say it,” I said in a rush. “The last time I saw you, I didn’t know if you were going to live, if either of us would live.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “You could have warned me about the bonds between us. Don’t think you’re off the hook for that.”

  “Had I warned you about them, you wouldn’t have agreed to them.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “That’s your defense?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s more prudent to act in the moment and to ask for forgiveness later.”

  I crossed my arms and waited.

  He sighed extravagantly. “Must I apologize for something that benefits both of us? That helped us survive?”

  “That helped you survive,” I reminded him. “And yes, you must, because you put my life at risk without warning me.”

  He nodded. “You are correct about that. I do apologize for not informing you that you were at risk.”

  “Thank you,” I said, mildly shocked that I’d actually extracted some form of an apology from him. “It’s a kind of betrayal, you know, to bond our lives like that without my permission. It’s not something I would’ve wanted.”

  Dominic leaned forward. “But?”

  I sighed. “But—” I continued, “I’m glad that the bonds were in place when they were, so I was able to keep you alive. Rene disintegrated into ash in Bex’s arms. If you—” I shook my head; the thought of him floating away on the air like that made my gut squirm in ways I’d never thought applicable to him. “I don’t like you, Dominic, but I don’t want you to burst into flames and ash.”

  Dominic’s smile was instant and rapturous. “Oh, you more than like me.”

  I pointed my finger at him. “Don’t push—”

  He held up a hand. “I’m glad for the bo
nds as well, and if the time comes—God help us if they do—I hope they serve you as well as they’ve served me.”

  “Without the bonds, would you have died as quickly as Rene from the arrow through your heart?”

  “Yes. A wooden stake through the heart is a lethal blow, and I should have burst into ash within moments. The same goes for sun exposure for most vampires, but I can burst into flames and still survive, as you well know.”

  I bit my lip, thinking of the last moments before I’d given into unconsciousness and who had saved me. “But you always burst into flames?”

  “Always.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, uncertainty warring with the proof of everything I’d witnessed. “I don’t think the Day Reapers were ever in town, Dominic. I think Walker was right about Bex attacking Ronnie and the other night bloods.”

  “Careful of who you accuse of what, especially Bex. She’s our ally, and we’ve worked hard to keep her that way.” Dominic narrowed his gaze on me. “Veronica Carmichael was attacked and transformed during the day. You said so yourself. And Rene never saw her last night. After you sent her in search of him, no one has seen her since, so we can’t confirm either way who her maker is.”

  “I know what I said, and she was transformed during the day, but I don’t think Day Reapers transformed her. I don’t think Day Reapers came here to resolve our situation with Nathan, either. Have you actually encountered any Day Reapers? Wouldn’t they have made their presence known to you, to deal out punishment or fines or whatever they do?”

  Dominic straightened from the wall. “What’s your point, Cassidy?”

  “Bex didn’t burn in the sunlight,” I whispered. “She stayed with me, sobbing over Rene’s ashes, and then after I let Nathan drain me, she picked us up and brought us to the hospital. We were in full sunlight, and she didn’t burst into flames or turn to ash. I’ve seen her skin boil and steam in the sunlight before, but this time, she didn’t even wince.”

  Dominic was on me in an instant, his nose centimeters from mine, his eyes blazing with that inhuman internal glow, and his fangs bared mere inches from my lips. My heart plummeted in a hard fall into my gut.

  “Don’t speak of it again. I don’t know how Bex was able to withstand sunlight, if she was able to withstand it.” He eyed me quizzically. “You were dying and near unconsciousness. You don’t know what you saw.”

  “I know exactly what I saw,” I insisted, despite the threat of his fangs and lethal strength. I reminded myself that he couldn’t kill me without inadvertently killing himself because of the bonds, and that gave me courage.

  “No, you don’t. She could have formed bonds of her own with a night blood.”

  “With Walker?” I scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

  “Bex doesn’t claim allegiance with the Day Reapers, and her allegiance is all I care about until the Leveling. What you saw is our secret. Swear it.”

  “On the certain passage of time?” I asked dryly.

  He stared at me, nonplussed.

  I sighed. “I swear, I won’t mention Bex or what I saw again. Until the Leveling,” I added.

  “Thank you,” Dominic said, and the blazing light glowing from his eyes dulled to a less intense shade.

  He stared at me a moment, still inches away—close enough that I could feel the radiant chill of his body—when something minute changed in his expression. His face slackened slightly, his eyes widened, and he stared at me like a stranger stares at someone they think they know but can’t quite remember.

  “What?” I asked, feeling more uncomfortable than usual under his gaze. “Is something wro—”

  Dominic dipped his head to nuzzle within the curve of my neck. He took a long, deep breath, and the rush of air against my skin tingled down my spine.

  He jerked back as if I’d been the one to scald him. “What did they do to you?”

  I blinked. “What are you talking about? What’s your problem?”

  “You smell different. Wrong, somehow,” Dominic said.

  I frowned, resisting the urge to lift my arm and sniff. “I haven’t taken a full shower yet, but I don’t think I’m really that—”

  “It’s more than that,” Dominic dismissed. He leaned in again, slower this time. Carefully and quietly, he sniffed the air around me. His eyes searched mine, as if he could peel away the layers of my mind with a single glance, which was a closer truth to his capabilities than I liked to ponder.

  I held his gaze from pure stubbornness, envisioning a mirror in my mind to reflect his commands if he got any brave ideas about entrancing me.

  “Describe what transpired from when you left the grove to now,” Dominic demanded. His voice was sharp, formal, and wavering. I’d seen Dominic in many stressful, life-threatening situations in which he remained aloof and stoic, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that as he stared at me, his eyes scanning over my face, up and down my body and everywhere in between, he looked near panic.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, exactly. I was unconscious. Why is this so important?”

  “It’s more than important. It’s crucial,” Dominic said. “Endeavor to explain in detail despite your unconsciousness.”

  I lifted my hands and let them fall back to my sides, at a loss. “I woke up in the hospital. I’m assuming Bex brought me and Nathan here, but whether she flew or took a more conventional method of transportation, I don’t know. Walker’s truck is parked in the garage, so I guess she could have driven us.”

  Dominic nodded and lifted his hand in a circle, encouraging me to continue.

  I sighed. “When I woke, Rowens visited me and thanked me for my help on the case,” I said, glossing over our conversation. “I reunited with Nathan, stayed the night here as per doctor’s orders, and now, I’m being discharged from the hospital. And here I am now, conversing with you,” I concluded. “That’s it.”

  “Doctor’s orders?” Dominic asked. “Why were they concerned that you spend the night in the hospital?”

  I shrugged. “I had a mild fever. I suppose it’s standard procedure after a blood transfusion, but I don’t—”

  “Blood transfusion?” Dominic growled.

  “Yes, I’d lost a lot of blood.” I took an instinctive step back from the ferocity in his expression. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “You don’t smell like you anymore. That cinnamon spice that drives me mad, it’s not there.” Dominic said, and I could tell he was truly upset. For a man who prided himself on his control, he was losing it. The tips of his ears pointed through his hair. “You don’t smell like a night blood.”

  I narrowed my eyes, not liking what he was implying. “You’re insane. I might have come this close to dying—” I squeezed my fingers together, barely a centimeter of air between them. “—and needed a blood transfusion, but that doesn’t change anything. I’m still me. People receive blood transfusions all the time. It’s a part of modern medicine.”

  Dominic eyed me speculatively, and I met his gaze squarely, daring him to argue.

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “I don’t think there’s any way to really prove—”

  “Cassidy DiRocco,” he commanded, and I felt the mental twine pull taught between us before I could re-envision the mirror to reflect his command.

  “—Oh, for heaven’s sake, Dominic, not again. Your word doesn’t mean shit if you don’t keep your promises.”

  “You will forget my name,” he said, and his command reverberated over my mind like all his commands, firing my synapses and forcing my actions, but as usual, my thoughts remained my own. “You will look upon my face and remember me, know me, and trust or distrust me as you always have, but when your tongue shapes to address me, nothing will remain of your memory concerning my name beyond hollow, unforgiving doubt.”

  He released my mind, and I rolled my eyes at his ridiculousness. “Are you done? My bus leaves for the city in thirty min
utes, and I don’t care if I smell like manure. I’m not missing that bus.”

  He cocked his head. “By all means,” he said, stepping aside in a gallant gesture. “I hope you have safe and smooth travels back to the city, Cassidy.”

  “Thank you, D—” My voice choked and my mind blanked on whatever I was about to say.

  He raised his eyebrows and leaned closer. “What was that?”

  I cleared my throat. “I said, thank you. I’ll see you back in the city.”

  “Say my name, Cassidy.”

  I rolled my eyes, but a cold lump of doubt coiled in the back of my throat. I forced a laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Say it,” he insisted.

  I opened my mouth to say something scathing.

  He leaned in close, his mouth centimeters from my mouth, his icy eyes blazing into mine.

  My breath caught in my throat, and I hesitated.

  “Say. My. Name,” he roared, and the low vibration of his growl rattled from his chest.

  I screwed my lips shut tight, aching inside from the unforgiving emptiness inside me where I knew I knew his name.

  But I couldn’t remember.

  He leaned away from me, his expression blank and incomprehensible. “That’s what I thought.”

  I reached out—not sure what I was about to grab or touch or take hold of, maybe anything of him—but as usual with his frustrating speed and grace and otherworldly, unfathomable illusions, I blinked, and he was already gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Leaving me alone with the knowledge that even though I knew without a doubt that I knew his name, I didn’t know if I was still me.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next book in the Night Blood Series