Passion Bites: Biting Love, Book 9

by Mary Hughes

  Luke’s brother. Luke wasn’t a twin, he was a triplet.

  “My birth name was Luther.” Marrone—Luther grabbed my bound arms and dragged me to a steel table like a mortician’s slab. “Owun, strap her in, would you?”

  Lizelle’s husband had come through the door, wheeling the blood transfer machine. The name—Owun again, not John—distracted me long enough for him to grab me and muscle me face-first up onto the table. I struggled as he fastened the restraining straps, but it was already too late.

  Wasting energy. I stopped resisting, breathing steadily to calm my heart and conserve my strength.

  My chin was propped on metal, my gaze riveted to Luke, suspended from a set of manacles from the ceiling, hanging at the center of a pair of sunlamps. Tethered, sunburned and bloodless, his eyes closed, barely conscious, blisters starting to form. I was amazed he was even alive.

  Marrone—Luther—sauntered between us to grab the machine. He wheeled it to me. “My latest field of endeavor has been to create a living vampire. Nosferatu doesn’t appreciate my scientific genius. Uses the fruits, of course, but doesn’t support my research, no matter how good the numbers are. Only the shadow lord understands the purity and beauty of experimentation…”

  Blah, blah, blah. However much he looked like Luke, he was so much less.

  “I’ve tried men, women and children. Children are the closest I’ve come, where the effects of the vampire blood last the longest. The younger the better. But I’ve always wondered if mates would be closer still.” His eyes cut to me.

  “N-not my m-mate,” came Luke’s horrified whisper.

  “Oh, please.” Hazel eyes rolled. “I have a nose, you know. Besides, I’ve seen how you look at her, like a love-sick cow. Owun?”

  Lizelle’s husband jabbed a needle into my exposed right arm, none too gently. That was why I was on my stomach, access to my bound arm, or rather arms. He repeated the procedure with a second needle in my left arm.

  But Luther was downright brutal stabbing two IV tubes into Luke’s chest himself. “Does that hurt?”

  Luke grunted.

  “Beautiful.” Luther beamed at him. “Revenge is best served neither hot nor cold—but with pain.”

  Luke asked the only question left. “W-why?”

  “Why?” Luther’s eyes flashed gold “Why? How can you even ask that? You were why. You and your sanctimonious brother. I deserved so much more, but you took it away from me. I’ve been planning this triumph for centuries.”

  I shivered. Whatever had happened to him, it had severely warped him. Lizelle had called Owun insane, but Luther was a level beyond that.

  “M-me?” Luke was losing the battle to stay alert. “Don’t…even…know…you.”

  “You know me,” Luther screamed. He caught himself and managed to rein in his raging with visible difficulty, returning to the machine, making an obvious show of checking the connections.

  “A-already drained b-blood,” Luke said.

  “That was as much to keep you docile as earn a buck. Can’t move well without a working circulatory system, can you? This procedure’s a little different. Watch carefully. This is very clever.” He flicked a switch.

  I felt a cold spot around the needle in my right arm. Blood filled the clear tube running from me to the machine. The motor whirred, and the tube from the machine to Luke filled with red.

  As my blood pumped through the machine into his chest, Luke’s color improved and the blisters even started healing. He took a full breath for the first time. I could see his muscles tense, bracing himself to rip loose of the manacles and tubing the moment his limbs worked.

  But Luther saw it too. “Uh-uh, bad boy.” He flicked another switch. “You’re not getting away so easily.”

  A second pump started sucking. The other tube stuck in his chest filled with blood. It pumped from his chest into the machine, and from there I felt a pressure into my left arm.

  “You think you’re so smart.” Luke glared at Luther. “But vampire blood won’t work without a pumping heart.” He suddenly went limp, his eyes rolling back into his head before his eyelids slipped shut. The pressure in my left arm eased.

  But Luther only tapped his lip with one finger. “Stopped your heart, hmm? I was so hoping you’d do that. Owun?”

  The man unhinged a nearby case and presented two pads to Luther.

  I recognized an external defibrillator.

  “Specially modified.” Luther pressed the pads to Luke’s chest, one under the right collarbone and one on his left-side ribs. “Doesn’t check for the heart’s electrical output first. Just delivers a nice 400-joule shock. Clear.” With a grin, Umbras pressed the button.

  Electricity punched Luke’s chest. His heart must’ve begun beating again because the pressure in my arm restarted. Damn it.

  “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Luther snarled in Luke’s face. “I am your antithesis, the theater symbol’s tragic mask to your disgusting laughing mask. Whatever plan you can think of, it has already occurred to me, because we are the same.”

  Luke’s breathing was becoming increasingly shallow, his skin reddening and starting to break out in blisters again. “N-not like me.”

  “Oh, yes, brother dear. I am what you would have been, if you’d had a childhood of abuse and neglect.” Luther’s eyes flashed red and his fangs extended, his control slipping again.

  My veins filled with power even as my lungs froze at the scene playing out in front of me.

  Luke’s eyes fluttered as he began to fade out. He surfaced enough to stutter, “M-my wife?”

  “The pretty blonde waif who died under Ruthven’s fangs? I was behind that, of course. I couldn’t stand seeing you happy.”

  Luke stopped breathing. My blood chilled. A moment later the pressure in my left arm ceased.

  Luther grinned at me like death. “Which is why I lied. After my experiments are done, I’m destroying you both.”

  With a nod from Luther, Umbras tore the needle out of my right arm. No more blood flowing into Luke, he soon became limp, his skin alarmingly red.

  “He’s drained,” Owun said.

  I closed my eyes. All they’d done was cycle my blood through Luke back into me. He was as drained as when they’d started. More so.

  “Excellent.” Luther flipped both switches. The burr of motors died. “Disconnect everything and let’s see what we have.”

  As Lizelle’s husband worked, Luther poked me into opening my eyes. I kept my gaze dull to hide my only advantage—I felt amazing. Strong, alive, twenty-one, in truth.

  He studied me, expression falling from eager to vaguely disgusted. “A bit younger. Some stronger, but hiding it, or trying to. How disappointing.”

  “Maybe a second dose, master?” Owun pulled the tubes from Luke’s chest. The barest drop of blood oozed out. My guts chilled. They’d taken everything he had.

  Would he collapse this time?

  “Good idea. We’ll try again in a few hours. For now, take the straps off the good doctor. Maybe if she moves around a bit, we’ll see more of an effect.”

  Even if Luke didn’t collapse into dust this time, if he managed to live through this, what about next time, or the next? It was a matter of when, not if, unless I could think of a plan.

  “Don’t you want her restrained, so she can’t blood the bastard?”

  “With her arms behind her back?” Luther held a hand in front of Luke about the height of my neck. It was a scant two inches below Luke’s dry mouth. With him suspended and me restrained, it might have been two miles. “It’ll be much more amusing for her to try to help him—and fail.”

  Was he right? Doubt entered my mind. Luther had bought my ruse and didn’t know how much stronger I felt. But was my enhanced strength enough?

  Luke would’ve reassured me, built me up. Luther, not so much.

>   My gaze darted helplessly between the two males. Identical, yet no matter how alike they were on the outside, they weren’t the same at all. There was a dissolution to Luther’s face, an underlying ugliness, as if he’d worn his contempt and anger so long it was a part of him.

  Yet he was Luke’s brother. “You…weren’t really an orphan.” I shook my head, as if still dull.

  “Oh yes, my dear, I was.” Luther smiled gently at me—which I now saw as mock gentleness—as Umbras worked the straps holding me to the table. “At least in the sense of being fatherless and motherless. You do know how fast vampires can move compared to humans, yes? Good. Then don’t do anything stupid when Owun releases you.”

  Crap. As I curled around to sit, I wondered how much faster Luke’s blood made me. I admit I considered trying to stomp Luther’s instep or knock his jaw with my skull—not because I thought the techniques would help me escape but just to hurt him, even a little. “Everyone has a father and mother.”

  “Yes, biologically speaking.” Luther sauntered to my table and reached around me to test the zip tie, still painfully tight but hopefully not yet causing nerve damage.

  He was so close. I readied myself to strike.

  “But my dear, dear parents were peasants, you see. They made babies like vermin.”

  “They had too many children?” My voice was breathy from my heart and lungs pumping like a bird’s. Ready. “Couldn’t they feed you all?” Set.

  Before I could go, he sauntered away. “Oh, they tried. If our dear mother had had one of us when we were born, they might have stretched their meager food. Even two could be accommodated with hardship. But three…? Oh, no. Somehow three was one too many.” He spun, his face suffused with rage. “They should have fucking tried harder.”

  I was startled by a lump-dump of my heart, aching for the child he must have been—even as my skin crawled by who he’d become.

  Seeming to recover, he smiled pleasantly, but the rage still simmered underneath, thinly veiled. “My loving parents sold me.”

  “You were in the foster system?”

  “No, you bitch, I was a slave. You think that is torture?” He pointed a stiff finger at Luke’s burnt, bloodless body. “My masters were truly cruel. I was a helpless boy and the things they made me do…and did to me… I’m sure, as a doctor, you know firsthand some of the infinite inventiveness humans exhibit when it comes to stupidity and barbarity.”

  I closed my eyes. Oh yes, I knew. It almost made me sympathize with him, just for a moment. Abuse had made him this way.

  Except Lizelle and Una were abused too. And they weren’t monsters.

  “My first act after I was made vampire was to feast on my captors’ blood and pain.”

  My eyes sprang open. He was right there. And not pretty blond Luther, but the monster, savage red eyes, fangs dripping in a plated face. Instinct pressed me back, trying to make myself small.

  “I was the discarded brother,” he snarled into my face. “But I came back even better. Now I am the most powerful.”

  As if reinforcing his words, I saw Luke beyond him, eyes closed, unconscious or dead.

  I shivered. We were at the mercy of a madman and his equally insane goon, and I was the only hope we had. I whispered, “But if you had revenge on your torturers, why are you doing this to your brother? To me?”

  He laughed. “I took revenge on my slave masters, yes. Only when I came to myself, bathed in their blood, did I realize who the true villains in my story are—my so-called family.”

  Luke’s eyes cracked open. He was alive. Hope exploded in my chest.

  Dry lips formed a word. “G-gone.”

  “Yes, dear brother. Our parents were dead by then, but you and Logan were successful tradesmen. But simply killing you would have been too easy.” He cocked his head theatrically. “Didn’t you wonder how both of you were made vampire at the same time? I arranged that. I admit it was a gamble. You might have died permanently, and your pain would have been over too quickly. But if you turned…I would have eternity to take my sweet, sweet revenge.”

  I tried wriggling my hands loose. The tie twisted and bit but didn’t give.

  “E-emerson a-attacks?”

  “Ah, yes, that was clever, wasn’t it? I positioned my minion Owun to turn off the alarms, staging the first little foray simply as a vulnerability test, since our dear brother Logan was outside his fortress for once. Oh, and I’d arranged it so Owun could be the hero, gaining a position of trust. At first it was simply so he could funnel information to me. But it turned out he was ideal to snatch the girl.” He chuckled. “Plans within plans.”

  “Why’d you stalk me, then?” I asked. “And why attack us at outside the café?”

  “That? Capitalizing on an opportunity. At first I pursued you only to see how far you’d gotten on your blood research. But then, at the café, Luke was waiting outside, seemingly for you… I wanted to see if you actually meant something to the Untouchable Steel. It appeared so, but I invited you both to my office to observe you together and see for sure.”

  “S-second Emerson a-attack?” Luke said.

  “Ah, yes. The flowering of my plans. I had Owun in place and put him into play. So delicious, taking the child right out from under Alliance noses. He brought both Logan’s brats to where I waited with the van—I knew you’d try finding them by blood, and I didn’t want to show up on your scan. My minion bollixed up the transfer, but I got one of Logan’s git. You managed to rescue her, but I’ll find a way to hurt him. It’s only a matter of time—and my revenge on you and your mate will hold me for now.”

  Luke’s eyes flicked to me, and it seemed he grew paler. “Z-zinnia’s…?”

  Luther laughed. “Everyone thought her children were yours or Logan’s. So delightful. But they’re mine, yes.”

  “M-mates?”

  “Oh, please. I avoided actual mating with the drug I developed to enhance suggestibility to hypnosis. I still don’t know why the mass delivery hypnosis enhancer backfired in Meiers Corners, since it worked in every other river I tried… Well, dear Zinnia is immune to suggestion, but I was able to override that with the proper drugs and have my way with her freely.” He patted my cheek. “Another way I am the superior brother. My drugs ensure vampires are as they ought to be—apex predator. I’ve changed my mind again.” He glanced over his shoulder at Luke. “I’m only killing you. I’ll keep your mate as a sex slave.”

  I wasn’t listening. The hypnosis enhancer backfired? Not just failed, but did the opposite? Was that why so many Meiers Corners folk were abnormally resistant to vampire compulsion?

  “Well, this has been fun, but I have things to do. I’ll be back to try round two later. Owun?”

  Lizelle’s husband followed Luther out.

  The moment the door was shut behind them, I slipped off the table and ran to Luke. My balance was hindered by the zip tie, but the vampire blood in me kept me from falling, although enough time had gone by that my extra energy had ebbed.

  His eyes were closed again and the blisters were starting to burst. He needed his blood back, now. And I was still feeling strong-ish, so I should be able to boost some body part within reach of his mouth, even if it was only a slashing head wound. Not as good or fast as the jugular, but it would bleed like the dickens and at least be something. “Luke. Luke, wake up. I need you to take a fang to my forehead.”

  No response. My blood chilled.

  I was stronger, but all the strength in the world wouldn’t help if he couldn’t suck.

  Next best thing, get him out of the killing UV rays. I tried knocking over a sunlamp, ramming it with my whole body.

  The stand must’ve been made of dwarf star. I wrenched my shoulder and hip, but the thing stood.

  So I stood between Luke and the one of the lamps’ killing rays and tried to work out a plan.

  The door c
licked open. I spun. My breath sucked into my lungs and froze.

  Luther leaned back inside, making little tch-tch noises. “I wouldn’t stand too near him if I were you, my dear. If he can’t stay conscious, he’ll go up in flames. You wouldn’t want to be too close when he goes whoosh.”

  Of all the tragedies I’d seen in the ER, burns were the worst. My body iced.

  Luke’s eyes snapped open, his face sheet white.

  “Yes,” Luther purred. “How does that feel, Luke? I watched you, and I saw it torture you for centuries, knowing your incompetence killed your wife. How would it feel knowing you killed your own mate?”

  Luke didn’t make a sound, but the agony in his eyes was enough.

  I put all my hate in my gaze and glared at Luther.

  He only struck a thoughtful pose. “You know, I’ve been waiting for this moment for centuries. Planning each nuance, meticulously creating this revenge. I not only mapped out how to create the most pain, I slaved endless nights detailing what could go wrong with my plan. Made backup plans. I have backups to my backups.”

  He stared directly at me with his red, taunting grin. “That, Dr. Byornsson, is how you plan.”

  Giuseppe Marrone always has an angle.

  He left, knowing we were helpless.

  And I didn’t have a plan.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After the door shut a second time, I stood on tiptoes. “Luke, can you hear me? Can you take a fang to my head?”

  His eyes were going in and out of focus—he was conscious, but only barely. His skin was bright red and blistering and according to Luther, if he lost consciousness, he’d flame.

  Or when the gruesome twosome came back, we’d have another round of fun with bloodletting.

  Best case, it was only a matter of hours before we’d both be dead. Worst, it was minutes.

  No plan. Luther’s last words rang in my head like a battering ram and I couldn’t think. No plan, time was ticking, and I had no idea where to even start.

  Here, no doubt, was the real reason the sick bastard had left. Not to give him time before he tried his test again, but to give me and Luke time to stew on our defeat.