Love Me to Death (Underveil)

by Marissa Clarke

  Aunt Uza’s shifters said the Time Folders were enemies. “I don’t trust you.”

  “As well you should not. Trust no one but your own instinct. But know this: were I the enemy, you would have been dead the first time you appeared in my home.” He glanced over his shoulder, and this time Elena looked, too. The woman from his condo, Margarita, was there with a tall, well-dressed man with jet-black hair wearing sunglasses.

  From the way people stared as they passed, she knew they were not under the Veil. Stefan gestured for them to approach, and as they got closer, her heart raced. If she were taken captive or died now, Nik didn’t stand a chance. She focused on concentrating electricity in her palms just in case.

  Margarita smiled. “I’m happy to meet again, Elena Arcos. Good to see you converted to your true form.” She gestured to the man next to her. “This is my brother, Ricardo.”

  This was the rebel leader—the one who had picked up her father’s cause after he died. The man slid off his sunglasses, and she met his piercing, blood-red gaze. “An honor,” he said. His voice was as smooth and slick as his appearance.

  She stared at him in awkward silence, waiting to find out what their objective was in coming to intercept her. The charge in her palms tingled.

  The man searched her face with his unnerving crimson eyes, then took her chin in his fingers. She stood stock still as he stared into her eyes. “Fascinating,” he said. “There hasn’t been a Dhampir born in at least a century.”

  “There are others?” she asked, barely above a whisper as he continued to study her eyes.

  “Not anymore. The Revolutionists slaughtered every last one.”

  “The Revolutionists are the factions of immortals who want the war in order to take power over the human world. They are Fydor’s followers, though that is a bit simplistic,” Stefan supplied.

  Ricardo released Elena’s chin and put his sunglasses back on, then turned to Stefan. “You say she is Arcos’s offspring, but have no proof, Darvaak. It’s clear she’s a Dhampir, but I need evidence she’s truly the Uniter before I rally my people.”

  Stefan remained very still and calm. “I told you she bears the mark.”

  “Look, guys. I hate to cut you short, but I need to catch a plane right away…like yesterday.” She took off toward the security lines. Ricardo grabbed her by the arm. She placed her hand on his shoulder and released the current stored in her palm. He recoiled but made no sound.

  Elena expected him to charge her, but instead, he just rubbed his shoulder. “Conserve energy. I’m not your enemy,” he said.

  “Don’t grab me again.”

  He nodded.

  “Please, Ricardo,” Margarita said.

  “Not until I see it.”

  “My word isn’t good enough?” Stefan asked from where he leaned casually against the column.

  “No. You could be like the others of your kind. No one’s word is good enough.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Elena said. “I’m kind of in a hurry, and your squabbling is holding me back. What is it you want to see? The markings?”

  Ricardo nodded.

  Elena tugged at her T-shirt neckline, but it was too tight to show much of anything. Damn. She wished herself cloaked in the Veil, hoping she’d done it right. If not, she’d be giving some travelers and tourists something to write home about. She slid the backpack off and set it at her feet, then ripped off her shirt. “Yeah?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Ricardo answered. “Almost.”

  Almost? Oh. The sports bra. It covered a majority of the glyphs. Damn.

  Human modesty,” Stefan said with a shrug and a half smile. “You had seemed to have gotten over it when I first arrived.”

  After she scanned the area, it was clear from the men and women walking by without a glance that she was truly invisible because a shirtless woman in a hot pink sports bra would probably draw at least a little attention. Fine. She needed to put an end to this so that she could save Nik. She pulled off the bra and gritted her teeth when her breasts bounced.

  Ricardo took off his sunglasses and made some kind of appreciative, growly sound. If it had it gone on any longer or been any louder, she would have shocked him into the next county. “Well, you are right, Darvaak. She is without a doubt the Uniter.”

  “Isn’t that interesting?” Stefan said, circling to face her, eyes sweeping over her chest.

  Yeah. My boobs are real interesting, asshole.

  “Look down, Elena.”

  She did. Holy shit. There were more of the odd shapes. They now expanded across her ribs and down to her navel. She gasped and met Stefan’s clear blue eyes. “What the hell?”

  “What, indeed,” he remarked, still studying the markings.

  She leaned over and grabbed her bra from the floor and yanked it on. “Spill, Stefan.”

  He lightly ran his fingers over the markings across her ribs, and a grin crept across his face as he traced them to her navel. His touch wasn’t sexual, but affectionate. Reverent, almost. He splayed his hand across her abdomen and spoke in a strange language.

  “Stefan! What the hell is going on?”

  He opened his eyes and took her face in his hands. “Sweet girl. I am asking the powers that be to protect the child you carry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Elena rolled the words written on skin over in her head. “Guardian of the bridge between species above and below the Veil.” The child she carried was the “bridge,” Stefan had explained. Evidently, the meaning was clear in whatever freakish tongue the glyphs were written. She may be the Uniter who was prophesied to dethrone tyrants, but the child was the key to long-term peace.

  She shook her head in disbelief. This was a real game-changer. She couldn’t just go blasting in there and risk her life to save Nik. She had to be careful now.

  From her seat in the back of the plane, she pressed her palm to her stomach. Margarita patted her hand. “It is a good thing. A miracle.”

  Yeah, no shit. Miracle was right. She wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant with someone from another species. Like cats and dogs, right? If she lived through this, she had a few words for Aleksandra and her absolutes. She rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath. And then, in spite of herself, she smiled. Nik’s baby. She’d never really thought about having kids—she’d never met anyone whose kids she wanted to have…until now. Her heart stuttered. Nik’s baby was growing inside her right now. And that was awesome.

  Stefan and Ricardo were in the cockpit. Had Stefan not laid this little bit of news on her, she would never have agreed to let him fly her. She would have done this on her own and owed a debt to no one. Somehow, that didn’t matter anymore. What mattered now was keeping this baby safe while rescuing Nik, offing Fydor, and ending this war, regardless of how many favors she’d owe when it was over.

  Stefan walked back and joined them in a seat facing across a table.

  “Who’s flying this thing?” Elena squeaked.

  He smiled and relaxed against the back of the seat. “This plane practically flies itself. We are over the ocean on a straight course. Relax.”

  Planes didn’t fly themselves. “I don’t like this.”

  “You are immortal. You would survive a crash, though that will not happen, I promise. I only want to speak with you for a moment.”

  “Could we talk with you back at the controls?”

  “If you would feel more at ease, then, yes. Please join me.”

  He held out his hand, and she took it. He squeezed. “You still have a charge in your palms. Do you feel threatened?”

  “No.” She followed him to the cockpit. Not threatened. Just terrified. Terrified of everything. Of failure. Of losing Nik. Of somehow losing this baby.

  She perched on the little jump seat behind the two pilot chairs, probably intended for a flight attendant or assistant of some kind. The panel had tons of controls and knobs that would be impossible to keep straight. “What did you want to talk about?”

&nbs
p; “Fuel.”

  “Oh God. Do we have enough?”

  “Not for the plane. Fuel for you.”

  “Oh no. I’m great. I have a whole box of protein bars. Thanks.”

  Ricardo turned in the copilot’s chair to face her. “You know exactly what he’s asking. I’m not nearly as polite and polished as the Time Folder, so allow me to clarify. You are a Dhampir. You don’t need blood to live, but it fuels your powers. You need as much power as possible before we land. We don’t know what you will face at the fortress.”

  Oh God. There was no way she could do this. She wasn’t some superhero Uniter thingy. She was just a woman. One frightened, confused woman who was powerless to face a foe she didn’t even understand.

  “You are far more than that,” he said. “You may be confused, but you are far from powerless, and you absolutely can do this. You are the Uniter destined to stop the war.”

  Holy shit, could he read her mind?

  “Yes, I can.”

  Fuck.

  “I can do that, too.” He laughed, and despite herself, she laughed along with him. It felt good to laugh. Stefan smiled, shook his head, and stared out at the blank nothingness through the windshield.

  “Okay then, what about fuel did you want to tell me?” she asked.

  “You need some,” Ricardo answered. “You need blood. You need mine.”

  Wait. No. She couldn’t. She went all horny and practically dived into Nik’s pants the last time she drank blood. “I can’t.”

  “It won’t be that way with me. I’m not your mate.” He waited for her to calm down a bit. “It was his blood that changed you. No one will hold the same appeal for you. You’ve nothing to fear.”

  Stefan shifted uncomfortably in the captain’s chair and cleared his throat.

  “Well, someone doesn’t agree with you.”

  Ricardo glared at Stefan, and she knew it was true. Something was up.

  “Nothing is up,” he said. “The Time Folder is not worried about you. He’s worried about me. I’m the one likely to lose control. I don’t have a mate, and vampires are not like elves and Time Folders. We have multiple options. Like humans, our mates come by choice, not destiny, though once we make our choice, it is firm.”

  “Why not Stefan?”

  “He’s of a race not even of this world. It won’t fuel you.”

  “Margarita?”

  “She is centuries younger, and her blood is not as fortifying.”

  She took him in from his Italian designer shoes to his perfectly tailored suit, to his blood-red shirt that matched his eyes and his jet-black jacket as dark as his hair. What, she wondered, would happen if he lost control?

  “I would bite you back. In a bloodlust, I would react much the same way you react with your mate.” He grinned, showing perfectly white, straight teeth and sharp fangs. “I would…how did you so eloquently put it? Ah, ‘go all horny and practically dive into your pants.’”

  Uh-oh.

  “Yes, exactly. But there are measures we can take. And I really need to teach you how to block your thoughts.”

  “Can’t you just cut yourself and put it in a glass or something?”

  “Straight from the vein, or it has no potency at all.”

  Before long, Ricardo was strapped to a chair in the cabin and bound with netting Stefan said was used to secure loose items being transported. It all seemed a little excessive to Elena, but all of this was new to her, so she just stood back while Margarita tied one last knot in the rope around the vampire’s arms, then put a large silver cuff over each wrist. Stefan sat on the edge of the seat facing them.

  “The neck is the best location. The fastest. And do me a favor,” Ricardo added. “Think of something awful. Something other than your mate or me or what you are doing. Think of paint drying or something utterly boring, okay?”

  “Can’t you turn the mind-reading thing off?”

  “Sadly, no. But I can’t read everyone’s mind. Time Folders and Slayers for example, are immune.”

  “But you can hear me all the time?”

  “Like a bullhorn in my brain, baby.”

  Shit.

  “Exactly. Now, let’s get this over with.”

  His voice was tinged with a Spanish accent that was appealing. And as she got closer, she noticed he smelled like starch and clean linen.

  “Stop it. You hate my voice, and I smell bad. Like horse manure.”

  And soap and shaving cream. The blood pulsed just under the surface of his skin, and her body approved with a sharp pulsing of her canine teeth.

  “I am so screwed,” he groaned.

  She leaned down, but for some reason, despite the aching in her teeth, she couldn’t go through with it.

  “Do it now,” he ordered.

  Nik. She would do this for Nik. She had to be strong to save Nik and the baby.

  “And your people,” Ricardo added. “And stop thinking about him. Think about drying paint and do it.”

  She bit down hard and he gasped. His blood didn’t taste like Nik’s. It was more metallic. Still, it felt amazing as it charged straight to her veins. This couldn’t be right. She didn’t want to be unfaithful to Nik. This was wrong.

  “No. Don’t stop. You’re not cheating. You’re not fucking me. You’re getting strong so you can save the guy you want to fuck.”

  He had that right. Boring thoughts… Drying paint. Being stuck in traffic. Logging entries in the research journal. Looking at slides through a microscope. Vacuuming the blue velour sofas. Folding clothes.

  His body relaxed, and she kept monotonous thoughts running through her head. And then, the visions started. Nik was chained by his ankles and wrists to a stone wall like out of some medieval horror movie, being questioned by a huge Slayer wearing black leather. The Slayer held a club like the kind cops used. She couldn’t hear anything, like watching TV with the volume turned off, but the man would talk, and when Nik didn’t answer, he would hit him in the head with the club. Over and over and over, he slammed the club into Nik’s head until blood ran from his nose and mouth and his body went limp. Then he turned to talk to someone else in the room.

  “Enough,” Ricardo whispered from far, far away. “Stop now, Elena.”

  Like an app being closed in her brain, the images stopped. Still latched on to his neck, her current reality replaced the horror she had just seen. She pulled away and her canine teeth retracted. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Your thoughts were a jumble. All I got was no, no, no.”

  She stared down at the bound vampire, still horrified by what she’d seen in the vision. Before her eyes, the marks on Ricardo’s neck closed and faded. Nik was immortal. His wounds would fade, too, if she could get there in time.

  “She has visions. She saw him beaten,” the vampire said, obviously hearing her thoughts. “Only seers can see the present or future. It is not a Dhampir ability at all. What the hell is she?”

  The two men exchanged glances.

  “What did you see, Elena?” Stefan asked in a calm, soothing voice across from where Ricardo was bound to the seat.

  “They are torturing him.” Her voice was so low she wasn’t sure she had said it out loud.

  “Of course they are,” Ricardo said. “That’s not helpful information. What else did you see?”

  “Nothing. Only another Slayer—huge with long, black hair. He was beating him.” Elena shuddered. “And there was someone else in the room. Someone I didn’t see.”

  “He will survive a beating. He has many times,” Stefan said, taking her hand.

  “Let me out of this chair. I need to teach her how to mask her thoughts. I have a suspicion of who the third person was. Let me out now!” Ricardo demanded. Margarita removed the silver cuffs, but left him tied down. He stared at Elena for a moment, then disappeared, leaving the empty net and ropes intact.

  She spun around to find him sitting up in the cockpit. What the hell? He could have teleported out of the bin
dings at any time.

  “No,” he answered. “The elven cuffs kept me from teleporting. And the bindings prevented me from grabbing you and biting you back—because I would have. I did my duty so that you can do yours,” he said over the hum of the motors. Then he said something else, but she couldn’t quite hear him.

  “What?”

  He motioned for her to approach. She did so, tentatively.

  “That is exactly how it works. Extra noise blocks the words. It’s like humming in your head. Hell, you can really hum if you want to. It will muffle your thoughts. Try it. Think of something specific while you hum and let’s see if I can hear it.”

  Stefan slid into the pilot’s seat. She started humming, then thought of how she needed to change in to cold weather gear before they landed in Romania.

  He turned in his chair to face her. “Excellent. I only got humming and a couple of syllables. Get in the habit of doing that now, before you get there. Soon, you will not need to hum out loud, but for the time being, it’s safer that way. You can sing, too, if you want to. It jumbles all the thoughts you transmit.”

  She settled back in her chair next to Margarita, but he continued staring at her. “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He smiled and turned back around. He was terribly handsome, and with that accent, Elena was sure he had the choice of any woman he wanted. He shot a look over his shoulder at her and arched a brow.

  Shit. She immediately began to hum “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.”

  She didn’t remember drifting off, but Elena awakened to the plane motors growing louder and louder, and then the plane pitched hard to the right as it banked into a turn. Something was wrong.

  “He’s landing at a small, private landing strip in the mountains,” Margarita explained. “Nothing is wrong.”

  “Can you read minds, too?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s a very rare talent. Only the oldest and strongest vampires can do it. Less than half a dozen, probably.”

  Her brother didn’t look older than thirty. “He’s one of the oldest vampires?”