by Kym Grosso
The clouds cleared from the sky, but they came for her once again. Gabriella had felt nothing but pain slicing through her as she’d shifted. Run, Gabby, run, the voice echoed in her mind. She never looked back, tearing through the woods as the witches attempted to break her with their dark magick. The moon and stars fed her strength as she escaped into the night. Lying in a cold Boston alleyway, she woke up in human form, shaking and crying for her mother.
“No!” Gabriella screamed. She jolted upward and sucked a breath, attempting to shove off the bed. Weakened, she fell backwards and curled into the warm blanket. Her eyes slowly blinked open, memories flooding her mind. Quintus.
As a child, her mother had told her of ancient vampires, their powers unmatched by all others. Rumors had circulated in the underground blood clubs that one of the most ancient vampires in the world had been spotted in the crypts. Poisoned. Dark magick. Some said witches had done this to him to punish him for sins of the past. Some pointed to an unleashed demon.
Gabriella had gone in search of the elusive vampire, convinced he could help her overturn the coven that sought her death. When she’d discovered him in the crypt, he’d laid unresponsive, barely breathing. Only the magick within her could save him. After the first feeding, she’d broken down in utter devastation when he’d failed to rally. Although tempted to leave him, she’d stayed by his side, talking to the handsome stranger. When he’d finally roused, she’d been terrified and elated all at once. With his help, she’d be free. But as he’d leapt and pinned her to the wall, she’d trembled underneath his touch. His extraordinary power drew her to him like a magnet, and her body had prickled with awareness.
Gabriella didn’t anticipate he’d dematerialize them away from the crypt. She suspected her hybrid nature and the trauma of her own blood loss had sickened her. For the brief seconds Quintus had wandered her psyche, his warmth had saturated her mind. The infusion of his powers had worked to calm her. With the horror that danced in her thoughts exposed, she’d briefly allowed him to peer into the nightmares.
Gabriella’s stomach clenched in hunger, drawing her out of her contemplation. As her mind drifted to her responsibilities, nausea rose in her gut. Her latest torturer, her blood runner, Ramiel, had been expecting a shipment. He’d threatened to expose her location to the coven if she didn’t deliver.
She glanced to the window, noting the sun hadn’t broken the horizon. If she made it to Ramiel within a few hours, he’d forgive her lateness. Gabriella swung her legs over the side of the bed and prayed her head would stop spinning.
A gentle hand settled on her shoulder, and her stomach flipped as she raised her gaze to meet Quintus’. His piercing dark eyes caught her attention and she struggled to find her words. “I…I…”
“You’re weak.”
“I’m fine. You shouldn’t have brought me here.” Her bravery rose, yet she remained captivated by his penetrating gaze.
In the crypt he’d been pale as a ghost, but as she studied his face, she noted his healthy olive-skinned complexion. At six-foot-four, the commanding vampire towered over her. With wavy dark brown hair and a strong jawline, he was strikingly handsome. She struggled not to stare at his rippled abs, and averted her gaze toward the floor. A muscular arm settled around her shoulders as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“You’re going to be okay.” Quintus took a deep breath and sighed. “I know you’re in trouble.”
“What kind of vampire poisoned you?” She changed the subject, looking to her torn jeans. Her clothes reeked of the stench of death that lingered in the underground. A wave of embarrassment washed over her at her circumstances. She’d been living out of a seedy hotel room for months. With little to her name, she’d been selling herself to survive.
“She may have been a vampire,” he answered, “but she had some demon mojo going on. It wasn’t her bite that got me though, it was her talons. Not many things supernatural or otherwise have taken me down but this one…she was lethal. I tried to recover but I couldn’t drink human blood. Kept vomiting. I was starving to death. Until you.”
“I told you. I’m a witch,” she said.
“Yes, but something else.” Quintus leaned over her, his nose brushed her hair.
“I need to take a shower,” she blurted out, her face reddening. “I smell awful. Like death.”
“I only smell sweetness but I’ll indulge you.” He smiled. “Answers. This is what I want.”
“I’ll try.” Gabriella sat hunched over, her forehead brushing her knees. As he ran his palm over her hair, emotion bubbled inside her chest. No one ever touched her with compassion, yet this powerful stranger treated her with kindness. She prayed he’d help her.
“Whatever has happened to you. Whoever has hurt you. This is over now.” His strength reverberated in his voice.
“I don’t need anything.” Protection was exactly what she needed, but Gabriella hesitated to ask for the favor.
“You obviously do need help. I don’t know what kind. Or how you knew me. But answers. This is what I need from you first.”
Gabriella shook her head, unable to speak. Quintus could be the answer to her prayers, but she was on the run. The coven sought her. Ramiel…he waited for her blood.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re safe. My home’s guarded with magick. Nothing will get you here.” He paused, raising an eyebrow at her. “But you won’t be able to escape, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m afraid that I cannot let that happen.”
“What?” Panic laced her voice as her head snapped up, her eyes flashing to his. “No. I have to go. I have an appointment. You can’t just keep me here.”
“Ah, bella. I’m afraid you’re wrong there. I most certainly can.” Quintus rose and crossed the room.
“No.” Gabriella jumped to her feet. A wave of dizziness threatened but passed as she sucked a breath of fresh air.
“You shouldn’t be going anywhere right now in your condition. You need to eat. Shower’s in there.” He pointed to an open door. “Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll make you something to eat.”
“No, I need to go,” she insisted.
“Doors to the outside are warded and locked. Like I said, nothing’s getting in to hurt you but you’re not getting out. You’re not well enough to leave, and I’m curious as to what has you so scared. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Shit,” Gabriella uttered under her breath.
She should have known better than to think she could step into the presence of an ancient vampire and easily get out of his web. As he closed the door behind him, her stomach sank in resignation that the vampire she’d been selling her blood to would call the coven, alerting them to her location.
As she trudged across the chestnut floor planks and stepped into the bathroom, hopelessness washed over her. She flicked on the light switch, and a soft glow illuminated its emerald walls. Peeling off her tattered clothes, she took a step to cross to the shower, and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her unkempt hair spilled over her pale skin. Faded bruises from the blood draws mottled her arms.
Gabriella closed her eyes and shook her head, inwardly disgusted with herself. She reached for the spigot and turned on the water, grateful to take a shower in somewhere other than her roach-infested hotel. As she stepped into the white marbled, glass-enclosed bath, the hot spray stung her skin. She welcomed the pain, convinced that no amount of soap would ever cleanse her. No matter how many times she told herself to be proud of how long she’d survived, the guilt of how she lived lingered in her mind. As she ran the soap over her body, she glanced to her scarred arms, a painful reminder of the price she’d paid. Like a punishment for living, the ugly marks grew more defined, and no magick or shifting would remove them.
Tears streamed down her face as she released the anguish she’d restrained. At her best, she’d saved the powerful vampire from dying, demonstrating her cunning and magick. Yet nothing could save her from the coven if they found out her location.
The one man who could help her kept her hostage, and she could sense his distrust. As she recalled how he’d gently held her, she wept for the love she’d never know. To be attracted to anyone was a futile emotion. No creature would mate with her. Witches would shun her. Be strong. Fight. She’d repeated her mantra every day for nearly fifteen years. She swore to herself that she’d put one foot in front of the other and keep going until she found a way to destroy the coven.
Exhausted, she slid down onto her bottom and curled her knees to her chest, pressing the heels of her hands to her forehead. Get yourself together, Gabs. Even if it’s just for today, you’re alive. A creak of the door alerted her to his presence, and she startled.
“Mi, bella.” His low voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket, and she lifted her eyes. “I can feel you all the way downstairs.”
“I’m…I’m sorry.” Water droplets dripped down her face as she took in the sight of the handsome vampire. Confused, she wiped her eyes. No one had ever sensed her emotions after drinking of her essence. That had been the beauty of her blood. Nothing more than a short-term high, her magical blood gave vampires an energizing boost. But at no point had she ever bonded with a vampire or become tied to them.
“I know what you’re thinking. Something about your blood,” he said, his back turned to her.
“I’ll be down in a minute.” Gabriella glanced away, wishing she could hide her vulnerability, her sadness. This was not who she was. Tough. Impenetrable. Essentially invisible, she’d flash her glamour, hide her appearance and feelings.
“I promise you you’re going to be all right, little witch. Whatever pains you, you’ll let this go.”
“I…” She lost her words in confusion.
“Come down and eat when you’re done taking a shower,” he told her. “Just letting you know I’ve put a robe out for you. It’ll be a little big on you, but it’s all I have. I, uh, I just didn’t want you to worry about your dirty clothes. I’ll see to getting you some new ones.”
“Ah…okay,” she replied, her voice soft. Gabriella noted how he’d been careful to avoid staring at her nudity, only briefly looking at her face. Ensuring her modesty, he’d quickly turned away. Something about this ancient vampire intrigued her. She hoped he didn’t plan on feeding from her, but her gut told her to trust him. With her magick weakened, she wasn’t in a position to argue.
As the bathroom door shut, she released an audible breath. She gingerly shoved to her feet, realizing that her mind had gone calm. Quintus Tullius. Her intuition told her that no matter what happened, her life would forever be changed. Giving him her blood had altered the course of the universe, and the Goddess would determine the future.
Gabriella wrapped the warm towel around her, and approached the window. Although the vampire had warned her he’d locked his wards, she hoped she could hijack an opening, and slip through a loophole. She closed her eyes, conjuring the magick within. Despite her weakened state, a slight spark twisted through her body. As she focused her power, her magick blanketed over the wards like water dousing a flame. She heard the crackling of the locks as she tensed, determined to break free. But her hopes were dashed as a shock sizzled her fingertips. She broke the connections, swearing out loud in frustration.
“Dammit to hell.” Gabriella blew out a breath.
As she stepped into the bedroom, she spied the black terrycloth robe lying on the bed. Cream-colored walls trailed up to the fifteen-foot ceiling; an intricate crown molding edged its perimeter. She ran her hand over the cool walnut post of the canopy bed. Swathes of white linen draped over its beams and dusted down onto the floor.
Gabriella reached for the soft cotton robe and pressed her hands into the arms, then tied it tight around her waist. Lifting the lapels to her nose, she inhaled his masculine sandalwood scent. Something about this vampire…so much more than what she’d expected, both soothed and frightened her all at once. She sighed and reminded herself that this was a simple business transaction. She saved his life. He owed her. It was as simple as that.
Her stomach tightened, aware she’d been late delivering her blood to Ramiel. She’d have to convince Quintus to release her, promise she’d return to his home.
Gabriella opened the door, and peered into the hallway. Quietly, she stepped toward the landing. As she slowly made her way down the stairs, she heard the male voices and froze. Flattening her back against the wall in the foyer, she quietly listened. Her heart sped, regretting her decision to save Quintus. He’d gone to one of his own, betraying her. Barely dressed and unable to escape his wards, she’d have to fight for her life. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last.
She scanned the living room, her eyes going to an ancient sword that hung on his wall. As she reached for it and her hands wrapped around its hilt, she felt vampire magick rush into the room. Gabriella whipped the weapon toward the energy, the blade slicing through the stranger’s shirt. Her gaze rose to meet his and her heart pounded in her chest at the sight of the tall blond vampire. Her eyes darted to the torn fabric, a thin red line bubbling over his abdomen. His fangs dropped, and his eyes lit with amusement as he laughed.
Terrified, she raised the sword above her head, and squealed as a muscled arm clamped around her waist. Strong fingers applied pressure into her wrist, taking her to the edge of pain and forcing her to drop the blade. The loud clank was offset by the whisper in her ear. “No, bella. What are you doing? Such a fiery little witch you are.”
The blond vampire’s wounds appeared to heal before her eyes and Gabriella sucked a breath, panic burning through her. She attempted to jerk free but Quintus held firm.
“Let me go,” she grunted, her eyes trained on the Nordic vampire.
“Calm down, little one. This one is a friend. Gabriella. Meet Viktor. My brother.”
Chapter Three
As Quintus prepared the meal, he attempted to rein in his spiraling thoughts. Whether a coincidental stroke of luck or a deliberate act, Gabriella’s gift of her magical blood had saved his life. Awakening on the cold slab in the crypt, he’d committed to repaying her. He’d sensed her pain, and suspected whatever shit she was in, she was in deep. Although the temptation to bite her had been great, he’d restrained himself. He chalked up his spiraling desire for the little witch to the poison, and grew convinced that whatever seeds of feelings had sprouted, he should ignore them.
His stomach clenched in hunger as he opened the refrigerator, searching for milk. Shit. Being gone for a few weeks, he’d forgotten to call on his local butler to restock the perishables. Discovering a carton of eggs hidden on a shelf, he shrugged and carried on with his task.
A feral thirst for blood twisted through him as he searched through the pantry, not entirely sure what else he was looking for. He’d already texted for a donor, and she was expected shortly. Although Gabriella required sustenance, human food wasn’t a necessity for him. Rather he simply enjoyed the emotional comfort of a home-cooked meal, reminding him of his human existence.
He fired on the gas stove and set a skillet onto the burner. As he went to reach for a knife, his instincts flared, recognizing the vampire. Viktor Christiansen. Unrelated by blood, Viktor and Quintus had been turned within days of each other. They’d become sired brothers by chance, friends by choice. Subjected to torture by their brutal master, the fledgling vampires had survived only with the support of one another.
“What brings you to New Orleans?” Quintus asked, waving his hand in the air with a smile.
“Just coming to check on you, man. Last thing I knew you were in New York. Gone missing. Of course there’re stories. Had to see for myself.”
“I love a good story.” He turned and smiled at him, wiggling his eyebrows, but his levity was met with a cold stare. “What? I’m alive.”
“Rumor on the streets had you dead.”
“Well, they’re wrong. Better than ever.” He sliced off a chunk of butter and tapped it into the pan. It immediately sizzled, smok
e twirling up into the air.
“Cut the shit, Quint. You’ve been missing for weeks.”
“I was busy. You knew that when I left New York.”
“I called for you and you didn’t answer. What am I supposed to think?” His voice went soft as he approached. “Stop fucking with me.”
“Something happened,” Quintus said with indifference.
“Jake said you were poisoned.” Viktor craned his head to check out what Quintus was cooking.
“You went to the Alpha?” Quintus asked, shaking his head with a small laugh. He’d expected his brother would search high and low for him. Although they often fought, they’d kill for each other.
“Fuck yeah, I went to Jake. But the thing is he didn’t have a clue where the hell you went. I knew you weren’t in the city, so I went to the next place I thought you’d go. And here I am.”
“It’s always been home.” Quintus shrugged. He owned several properties across the globe but he’d made New Orleans home long ago.
“How long have you been here, because before you answer, you should know that I…there was this girl.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” Quintus grinned. “Many times actually.”
“Be fucking serious for a minute. How long have you been here?” he pressed.
“I’ve been back here…I don’t know…a couple of weeks maybe,” Quintus guessed, unsure of how long he’d been missing.
“I tracked down a human a week ago. She had your scent…”
“Cassandra?” Quintus spun to face him, his face flared in anger. He’d saved Jake’s friend who’d graciously fed him in San Francisco. He’d been her first vampire, and after the attack, he’d saved her life and rushed her to the hospital.
“Are you going soft?” Viktor rolled his eyes and glanced again to the stove, the butter browned in the skillet, releasing a burnt odor into the air. “You gonna get that?”
