The Enclave 2 Undying Embrace

by Jessica Lee

  The half-drained vampire lifted his eyelids, and his over-dilated pupils rolled up into his head, exposing a rim of white beneath. A thin rivulet of blood oozed down his neck and seeped into the black cotton of his shirt. “Why…?” Red began, gasping for mouthfuls of air between his words. “. . . didn’t you… kill me.”

  Arran lifted his dagger from his waistband and crouched before him, shifting the blade’s weight in his palms until it was just right. Leaning in, he whispered, “Who said I was finished?” He sank the silver blade into the DEAD’s heart. A gurgling cry ripped from Red’s throat as his back arched, and then he collapsed against the brick, the lethal dose of silver already eating away at his tissues. Smoke that reeked of decay consumed the DEAD’s body in the time it took to grab his other blade. As he knelt to check on the human woman, Red’s body imploded, leaving nothing behind but ash to scatter in the humid wind.

  The woman’s pulse beat steady under his fingertips. She appeared unharmed in her unconscious state, slumped beside an array of empty cardboard boxes. Standing, he turned on his heels in the direction of the old sedan.

  “I haven’t forgotten about you, Spike. I’ve lived too many years not to know that you’re crouched behind the rear of that car, about to shit your pants.” He took two steps and leaped into the air. His boots struck the sedan in a thump and groan of aluminum. The trunk buckled under the burden of his two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and bone. He dropped to one knee and peered over the edge. The skinny kid sat trembling exactly where he knew he would be. Spike scuttled back on all fours, fear blazing in dark eyes that were much too large for his gaunt face.

  “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!” His back rammed into the Dumpster’s enclosure. Realizing he’d pinned himself in, Spike twisted and began a frantic attempt to climb the fencing.

  Arran dropped from the car at Spike’s feet. He grabbed at the newbie’s floundering legs as the kid dug for purchase on the rattling cage. “Get down from there, Spike. I’m not going to kill you.”

  “Let me go!” Spike kicked back at the hold on his calves. “Let me go!”

  “Are you listening? I said I’m not going to kill you.”

  The kid glanced back over his shoulder. Panic had driven what blood remained from his face, making his skin appear even starker next to his jet-black hair. “You’re not shittin’ me, are you? You’re not gonna kill me?”

  “I’m not going to kill you.” The skinny kid was too new and showed no signs of Death Euphoria Addiction. “But if you don’t get down right now, I might.”

  Spike let go. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he spun and pressed his back against the enclosure. “Whatcha gonna do to me?”

  Arran wasn’t quite sure what the hell to do with the kid. He leaned in, bracing one arm beside Spike’s head. “What’s your name?”

  The kid gulped, then opened his mouth. “David.”

  “Was this your first time out with those two?” He motioned with a tilt of his head at the ashes of the DEADs behind him.

  “Yea—Yeah.” David’s head bounced in a frenzy of nods.

  “How long ago were you turned?”

  “I…I think a week, maybe two. This…this is my first time out hunting.” David glanced to the arm wedging him in at his left and the brick to his right. “Please,” he whispered. “I’ll do whatever you want, but I have… I need it. I’m so hungry.” He wrapped his arms around his gut, and his body shook. The next moment, he reached out, grasped the button on Arran’s jeans with one hand, and slid the other down the front.

  Jerking his hips back, he knocked the kid’s hands away. “What the fuck? I don’t need you to suck me off!”

  “I…I just thought—like the others, it’s what you wanted.” David’s voice trailed off to a whisper, and he dropped his gaze.

  Christ. What had they done to him? “I don’t get off by forcing others to fuck me.” David lifted his gaze back to Arran’s, looking surprised that he wasn’t going to have to service him. Sick bastards. They’d really messed with his head. “Why didn’t you run when I was fighting those two?”

  “I started to. I was stupid, I guess.” He shook his head and shrugged. “But I’d never seen anyone like you before. The way you took them on… For real, man.” David locked him with an awestruck look of wonder. “Like you ain’t afraid to die or something.”

  Arran opened his mouth but didn’t know where to start. David was dead-on. He didn’t give a shit if he lived or died. Unbidden, the memory of Gabrielle’s kiss and the taste of her lips flooded his mouth again. She was the only thing in his life that had given him a purpose to rise each night, but he’d left her. He rocked on his heels; the need to be with her was dizzying. Two years, but all it took was one simple thought to unleash his dark desire.

  “Wish I didn’t care about breathing or sucking dirt. Things would be a helluva lot easier.” The kid’s tremulous declaration yanked him to the present.

  “You’re too young for a death wish, David.” Arran leaned over and slipped his dagger back into his boot. He yanked the rest of his torn and bloodied shirt off as he stood, then tossed it over the fence into the Dumpster. Damn shame. It was one of his favorites. He glanced back at David. Something was wrong. Terror had seized his eyes wide and they were fixed on Arran’s chest.

  “Yo, David.” The young vamp didn’t respond. He gripped the kid’s shoulder. “David, what’s wrong with you?”

  “What do you want with me?” The words trembled off David’s lips.

  “Want with you…?” What was he talking about? “I don’t want anything from you. I only want to stop you before you fall in too deep and kill someone.”

  “What are you saying? You’re like him. Why do you talk like that?” His head rocked back and forth. Spike wasn’t making any sense. The boy began to shift on his feet, a rabbit about to bolt.

  “Look at me.” A groan, coming off David, filled the space between them. “Look at me, kid.” Grabbing both sides of David’s head, he jerked the kid’s gaze to his. The tremors wracking the boy’s body vibrated up the length of his arms. “Like who? Who are you talking about?”

  “Him… Commander Markus. That’s his tat on your chest.”

  The answer slammed into Arran with a staggering blow, and he snatched his hands away. The Enclave symbol. He glanced down as if he’d forgotten it. The infinity and dagger tattoo covered his right pec. David knew Markus. Holy shit. He couldn’t believe it. After all these months of searching for that vampire’s sorry ass, this kid knew him.

  Regaining his balance, he lunged at David. “Where? How do you know Markus?” David backpedaled into the fence. It rattled in complaint at the force of his body trying to shove it out of the way. God, he was scaring the kid to death. This was going to require a different approach.

  Through clenched teeth, he muttered, “I’m not like Markus. You hear me, kid? I’m not Markus.” David’s agitated movements calmed to a mild shuffle. The air continued to saw out of his chest. Hunger mixed with fear worked his lungs overtime.

  “I said I wasn’t going to hurt you and I meant it. I’ve been a lot of things to a lot of people—asshole, assassin… You name it, and I’ve probably done it.” He grasped the kid by the back of the neck, and David stiffened. “But when I give my word, I don’t go back on it.” A small portion of the tension under his palm eased. Good. “Now come here. I want to show you how to feed. Without taking a life.”

  He placed David beside the young woman who’d been the intended prey for the DEADs. Based on the soft moans and the stir in her limbs, she was coming around. “Feeding doesn’t have to be painful or terrifying for the human.” Arran lifted the woman’s head and began to tap her gently on the cheek. “Wake up,” he called out to her. “Come on, open your eyes. You’re going to be all right. No one’s going to hurt you, lass.” She moaned and rocked her head. After a few seconds, her eyelids fluttered open, and her gaze darted from Arran to David. She cried out, striking at them with her fists and
struggling to get away. Arran grabbed her arms. “Shhh, lass. Look at me.” The words, laced with compulsion, quieted her struggle, and her gaze rolled to Arran’s.

  “You’re safe. No one here is going to hurt you.” Arran stroked her cheek and slid the hair away from her eyes. He would make sure of it. She’d been through enough trauma. Teaching the kid the proper way to handle his hunger would insure the humans he fed from wouldn’t be harmed or feel any pain other than a prick at the neck. He placed her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze. “Tell me your name.”

  She licked her lips and swallowed. “Beverly. Do I know you?” She tilted her head. “You look so familiar.” A shy smile formed on her lips.

  “No, you don’t know me. But I’m going to take good care of you.” Giving her hand a tug, he pulled her to her feet. “Come with me, Beverly.”

  With Beverly and David following, Arran led them to the Dumpster enclosure and out of view of any possible witnesses. They’d been lucky during the battle that no one had heard the racket or come out to investigate. But it was two in the morning. Most businesses in the area other than the bar were closed, and few people were on the streets. Still, he wasn’t going to take any chances while continuing the new vamp’s lessons.

  He kept Beverly calm while David fed, making sure his trainee was aware of his donor’s status and understood when to stop. “You have a clotting agent in your tongue. Always seal the punctures,” he instructed when David had satiated his hunger. “At this point, I’m going to remove her memory of tonight and replace it with something benign or pleasant. I’ll also encourage her to cover the wounds with a scarf or bandage until they disappear and mention that the injury was from a fall. Then we’ll send her home. With practice, as you grow stronger, you’ll be able to do this as well….”

  David’s eyes were wide as he watched Arran complete his mental compulsion on Beverly. Maybe he was going to be okay after all--if he could find someone to take him in and get him off the street.

  Like a lost puppy, the kid followed him to his black-and-red Ninja parked a block away from the bar. Once there, he unlocked his seat and pulled his cell from the hidden compartment. He dialed a number from memory and turned to David. “I’m calling someone to pick you up.” David gasped. “Don’t freak out. They won’t expect anything in return.” The boy spun around and leaned against the trunk of a nearby oak that was framed on each side by green city parking meters. He nervously swiped a hand through his spiked black hair.

  Ted answered on the fourth ring. “Memorial Gardens Crematorium.”

  “This is Arran. I need to call in a favor.”

  “Arran MacLain,” he drawled. “I’d heard you’d skipped town and left the Enclave. What kind of favor would you be needing from me? You running your own game now?”

  “What game I’m running is none of your business.” He leaned against his bike, keeping one eye on David. Nervous energy rolled off the kid in waves. At the moment, he was about as unpredictable as a tiger on a thirty-yard leash. “You owe me, Ted. And I’m collecting.”

  Ted chuckled on the other end of the line. “Aw, man. You always were so much fun.” Laughter faded, and he cleared his throat. “What do you want?”

  He proceeded to explain David’s unfortunate turning, and how the kid needed someone to take him in and teach him about his new life. “I see…” Ted paused for a moment. “I have just the person in Fairfield that I’m sure can be there within the hour. His name is Jeremiah. He’ll be able to take the kid in and show him the ropes.”

  “This Jeremiah…” Arran began, then lowered his voice. “What type of payment or expectations will he have regarding David?”

  “Don’t worry. Part of the favor. Jeremiah’s one of the good guys. I’ll take care of what he needs. He won’t expect anything from David.”

  “See that you do,” he said, his voice a rumble of warning before he ended the call.

  The seat clicked into place, and turning the lock, he secured the cell phone back in the compartment. Shoving his keys back in his pocket, he ambled over to the oak David had planted himself against. A breeze rustled the leaves hanging on the aged tree’s branches, the fragrant scent of wisteria blooms lingering on the warm summer night’s wind. Breathing deep, he shook his head. Such a sweet-smelling contradiction to the putrid evil lurking in the dark.

  “I’ve found someone to teach you what you need to know.” David glanced up. “You’ll be safe there. There won’t be any sexual demands.”

  “When will they be here?”

  “Jeremiah will be here in about an hour. But I do want something from you before I leave.” Arran braced one arm on the bark above David’s head. “Tell me everything you know about Commander Markus, including where I can find him.”

  Chapter Two

  “Wicked Ways…” Gabrielle Stevens allowed the name of the club to roll off her tongue. This was crazy. What had her sister been doing, hanging out in a club for goths? At least that was the story, according to one of Alexandria’s neighbors. Elle had knocked on every door of anyone Alex had ever mentioned in her e-mails and phone calls. No one had seen her sister for at least three weeks. The only lead left to check out was this club with the sinful name near Fairfield University, where someone had spotted Alex the weekend before she’d disappeared.

  Sitting on the edge of her sister’s bed, Elle slid her feet into the new black leather, four-inch-heel boots she’d bought for tonight. So not her normal style. There was way more heel than she was used to, since she was already considered somewhat tall at five eight, but she had to admit they made her feel ultra-sexy. She leaned over and smoothed her hands along the buttery-soft cowhide encasing her calves up to her knees. Man, she did love the feel of nice leather. Elle eased to her feet and tested her balance. Okay, yeah, she could do this. The thin heels tapped against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the oak dresser sitting across from the bed.

  The studded leather choker she’d purchased lay stretched across the glass top of the vanity. She trailed her fingers along the tips of the cool spiked metal and glanced into the mirror. With her hair pulled back, the pale jagged scars on the right side of her neck stood in sharp relief against her olive skin. On a slow inhale, she reached up and slid her fingertips over the bumpy surface of the ugly reminder that seven years hadn’t erased. Elle wrapped the wide band around her neck and tied the laces in the back. The width did its job. It left no visible evidence of her past.

  The long black wig wasn’t exactly her color, but she had to look the part. She worked the pins into place, making sure it fit tight against her scalp, and tossed her head from side to side. The locks of blue-black hair fell past her shoulders. She stared into the mirror, the fake stud in her nose sparkling in the dresser’s lamplight. Damn, she looked different. The only thing that remained the same was the amber color of her eyes. She tilted her head and studied her reflection. It felt good to be someone else, even if for a little while.

  A woman without a history—and a gaping hole in her heart left by a man who hadn’t cared enough to stick around.

  “Oh God, Elle.” She threw the tube of blood-red lipstick at the vanity top. It pinged and bounced against the glass. “When are you going to purge Arran from your brain and move on?” Grabbing her ID off the top of the dresser, she whirled around, headed for the door, and added, “And how about you quit talking to yourself like you’re some sort of basket case.”

  Forget Arran. Alex needs me and by God, I’m not going to let her down.

  …

  The blue digital clock on her dash read 12:00 when Elle rounded the corner at College Avenue and Dalton. Across the street from Wicked Ways, a black pickup pulled away from the curb. “Yes.”

  Signaling, she changed lanes, and whipped her Lexus into the vacant spot. She glanced over at the bar’s exterior as she turned the engine off. A flashing neon-red forked tail, an extension of the letter y, directed traffic to the entrance. Subtle.

  She grabbed her iPhone,
preparing to squeeze it into her narrow purse, when it vibrated against her palm. Glancing down, the dark screen displayed Logan. It was the sixth time he’d called over the last two days. He cared so much about her. Yet every time he called, it meant another lie on her part. Sliding her finger across the screen, she accepted the call. “Hi, Logan.”

  “Hello, beautiful.” His deep voice, sprinkled with a hint of a brogue, brought a smile to her face. “How’s my lovely lass this evening?” Such a charmer. She took a long, deep breath, needing every ounce of strength to get through another conversation and not give herself away.

  “I’m fine. I take it you’re not on patrol tonight?”

  “That would be a negative. I’m covering ops again, since our operations expert decided to jump ship for a little R & R. Still having a good time with your sister?” A creak of wood, like he’d shifted in a chair, punctuated the question. “Not ready to come back yet and rescue me from this godforsaken desk?”

  “Sorry, big guy.” She laughed. “I think you and your highlander behind can last a few more days in front of the computer without me.”

  “Maybe so, but I don’t know how much longer my heart will. I miss you, Elle.”

  Oh, please, don’t go there. She squeezed her eyelids closed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Finding her sister hadn’t been the only reason she’d taken some time away from the Enclave. Logan was tired of waiting. Moreover, she was tired of evading. This past year, he’d made it clear that he wanted to make her his. He was good to her. Tall and ruggedly handsome, he had emerald green eyes and long golden brown hair that fell to his waist. A body any woman would throw back the covers for and welcome into her bed.