by Tessa Dawn
“What?” Braden asked.
Ramsey grabbed the kid by the arm and sprang to his feet, lugging Braden’s body up, along with his own, effortlessly. “We need to take this to Napolean.”
Now it was Braden’s turn to be surprised. “Why?”
“If Kristina truly believes it’s me, then that means the male must look like me, talk like me, act like me…and that has sorcery written all over it.”
Braden blanched as understanding dawned on him. “The Dark Ones?”
“Precisely.”
“Then why haven’t they killed her,” he asked, his stomach turning over at the thought. Oh gods, had he failed to protect her? “What do you think they want?”
Ramsey shrugged as he headed for Napolean’s front door, practically dragging the kid behind him. “And isn’t that just the million-dollar question.”
twenty-one
Kagen Silivasi paced nervously around the foyer, stopping to glance at Ramsey and Braden in turn as the two quickly filled him in on the details of what they had discovered. The angry males had rushed through the clinic doors like Wyatt Earp rounding the corner at the OK Corral, full of steam, vinegar, and deadly intention, and Kagen had not been able to get a word in edgewise as Ramsey quickly and succinctly brought him up to speed. He turned to glance at Braden, who had a sickly look on his face, his skin growing paler by the minute. “And you’re positive the diary had Ramsey’s name in it?” Kagen asked.
“Oh yeah,” Braden said, sounding out of breath. “Absolutely.”
“I don’t think there’s any doubt,” Ramsey chimed in. “By the way she came onto me that day outside of Napolean’s…” He paused, looking both remorseful and infuriated. “Damn, I just…I just didn’t think much of it. From everything Marquis has ever said, Kristina tends to act flighty at times. Impulsive. It never occurred to me that there was something more serious going on.”
Kagen nodded impatiently. Few things slipped by the insightful sentinel’s recognition, and no doubt, Ramsey was feeling horrible at having missed all the signs of danger, the Dark Ones’ plotting…yet again. Kagen’s blood heated in his veins, and he knew his eyes were changing color involuntarily as the obvious suddenly occurred to him: He had been so taken aback by the two males rushing into the clinic that he had failed to ask the most important question first: “Oh, shit! Ramsey?” His voice was unusually harsh. “Were you with Kristina and Deanna a half hour ago?”
Ramsey raised his eyebrows. “No…why?”
“You weren’t outside, waiting in the car to escort them to the casino?”
“No, Healer,” he repeated, “I was with Braden trying to figure out what the heck was going on. What’s up?”
Kagen swallowed his fear. Reaching out telepathically on a community bandwidth so both Braden and Ramsey could hear, he immediately called to his brothers: Marquis! Nathaniel! It’s urgent!
It took less than a second for the Master Warriors to respond.
Kagen, what is it? Marquis’s voice was brusque with concern, his demeanor fully alert.
I’m here, Nathaniel chimed in. Speak, brother…
Kagen drew in a deep breath, not wanting to make the situation even worse than it was by sending both of his brothers into an instant rage—they all needed to be calm and cool in the face of danger. We have a situation, he began, a very serious situation.
Neither one responded. They weren’t willing to waste even a second with unnecessary words.
As you know, Kagen explained, Kristina invited Deanna to spend time with her tonight—they were headed to the casino with Ramsey riding escort. He paused for only a scant second, his psychic voice revealing his anxiety. Only Ramsey is standing right here in the clinic next to me. He never went with them.
He felt Marquis push against his mind, as if the Master Warrior was about to reach in and extract all the pertinent information faster than Kagen could relay it, but to the warrior’s credit, he remained silent and waited.
Nathaniel’s energy was growing darker by the moment, the lethal vampire’s own patience being tested to the limit. Two sentences or less, Kagen: bottom-line assessment and immediate course of action.
Kagen sighed with relief: They could catch up with details later. Bottom-line assessment: We believe one of the Dark Ones has been impersonating Ramsey and spending time with Kristina…romantically. We think he’s with them now. Immediate course of action—
Nathaniel! Have Saxson and Santos meet you at the casino, Marquis commanded, instinctively taking over. Ramsey, meet us there, and conceal your weapons—we don’t want to alarm any humans unnecessarily. Kagen, alert Napolean.
I’ve already spoken to Napolean, Ramsey cut in. And my brothers—he was referring to the other two sentinels of Dark Moon Vale, Saxson and Santos Olaru—are already on standby, armed and ready to mobilize.
Good, Marquis said. Kagen, have you tried reaching out to Kristina or Deanna telepathically in order to warn them?
Haven’t had a chance yet, brother; I called you and Nathaniel first.
Do it now! Marquis ordered. As for the rest of us, let’s move, warriors. Now. With that, the telepathic link was broken.
As usual, Marquis Silivasi was not wasting time.
Deanna sank deep into the large, bubbling hot springs, letting the soft mineral water sweep over her body and wash all her cares away—if only for a moment.
The bath felt heavenly.
The rising steam caressed her skin, soaked her hair, and dampened her forehead, even as the natural currents soothed her tired muscles. For the first time since she had arrived in Dark Moon Vale, she almost felt at peace.
Opening her right lid lazily, she glanced out the corner of her eye at Kristina, who was sinking deep into the bath opposite her own position, perched on a smooth, natural stone. The fiery redhead’s hair was tied up in a loose, messy bun, and she was trying her best to act relaxed while sneaking constant, worried glances at her cell phone in order to check the time. Ramsey was late. And while the skinny girl tried to play it off as no big deal, it was obvious to Deanna that Kristina was becoming more and more irritated—if not worried—with each passing moment.
A faint stirring rippled through Deanna’s consciousness, almost like a soft cerebral wind playing notes against her forehead from the inside out, and Deanna reached up and brushed a trickle of sweat from her brow. That was funny, she thought, wondering if there wasn’t some strange, if not supernatural, quality to the water, something ethereal about its composition that caused a funny tickling inside the body.
It happened again—only this time stronger.
Deanna sat up, more alert.
Kristina looked up at her then. “Is your head tingling?” she asked, seeming to know what was going on.
“Yes,” Deanna responded curiously. “Is yours? It’s really…weird. Do you think it’s the water?”
Kristina rolled her eyes lazily. “No…I think it’s Kagen Silivasi, trying to check up on you telepathically. He’s doing it to me, too.”
“Oh,” Deanna said, puzzled. “What should I do? How do I answer him?”
“You don’t,” Kristina responded resolutely. “Give him an inch, and he’ll take a mile.” She laughed out loud then. “Unless you want your new brother—all of your new brothers—popping into your head every five minutes, it’s best to set some boundaries now…early on.” She lifted her cell phone from the stony ledge, where it sat precariously close to the water, and checked the time again. Sighing, she added, “I told Mr. Kagen we would check in every hour on the hour; we still have thirty minutes.” She set the phone back down and sank back into the water. “He can hear from us then.” Waving her arms back and forth as if gently treading water, she added, “Just imagine a chalkboard with writing on it—words that keeps appearing on the surface out of the blue—and erase it in your mind; it’ll turn the volume down so Kagen’s little intrusions don’t tickle so much.”
Deanna found her rebellious companion’s advice rather odd—w
ouldn’t it just be easier to answer Kagen now, let him know everything was all right, and just get on with their bath?—but she didn’t feel like it was entirely her call to make. After all, she was the new kid on the block, a complete stranger to this odd, supernatural world, and Kristina had spent a lot more time in this strange valley with the vampires than she had: While Deanna Dubois wasn’t one to succumb to peer pressure—or really give a rat’s hind-end what other people thought as a rule—she also wasn’t one to alienate folks unnecessarily. And…Kristina Silivasi was Nachari’s little sister, if only by default. The main thing was—they were fine; they were safe; and thirty minutes wasn’t that long to wait. Besides, she could always plead the fifth if Kagen got too paternal, claim ignorance of customs and protocols, blame it all on Kristina if it came down to it. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly, “if you say so; but if there’s any fallout, it’s all on you. Just so long as you know that.”
Kristina smiled broadly. “Yeah…yeah. It always is. No prob.”
Just then, the largest, meanest-looking, albeit sexiest male on the planet strolled up to the hot tub as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He was dressed in a stunning black-and-tan bathing suit, which hung low on his flat, masculine hips and matched his spectacular hazel eyes perfectly. He winked at Deanna, placed a lone finger over his lush mouth in a gesture of quiet, and slowly tiptoed behind Kristina as silent as a mouse. “Hey, Red,” he drawled in a lazy, far-too-confident voice. “Sorry I’m late.”
Kristina jolted upright, startled by his voice. Frowning, she splashed a large surge of water on his chest. “I was about to give up on you!” she snapped, feigning irritation.
The side of his mouth curled up in a mischievous grin. “Ah, baby—that’s harsh, don’t you think?”
Deanna smiled, instantly taking notice of the strong attraction between them, and hoping she wouldn’t be made to feel like the odd man out. Kristina was completely full of it, pretending to be angry; her entire being lit up in the man’s presence. Deanna sank deeper into the water in an effort to mind her own business.
Seeming to notice Deanna’s discomfort for the first time, Kristina gestured toward her. “Ramsey, I don’t think you’ve actually met Nachari’s destiny yet. This is Deanna…Dubois, right?”
Deanna nodded. “Yes.”
Kristina turned back toward Ramsey, her eyes taking his measure appreciatively. “Deanna, this is Ramsey Olaru, one of the three sentinels who guard Dark Moon Vale.”
“Hi,” Deanna said in a polite yet distant voice. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ramsey responded in kind. “How’s the water?” He dipped a large hand into the pool.
“Heavenly,” Deanna responded. She leaned back and closed her eyes in a gesture of retreat, wanting to offer the two lovebirds at least a semblance of privacy.
“Why don’t you get in?” Kristina said, her voice brimming with eagerness.
“Love to, darlin’,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice.
Deanna couldn’t help it; she peeked beneath her hooded lids and watched as Ramsey slowly made his way into the deep pool, sat as close to Kristina as another body could get, and then propped his enormous, muscled arm behind her back. “Did you miss me, baby girl?” he whispered, as if Deanna couldn’t hear him as clearly as day. Deanna shut her eyes a second time, shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and wished like hell that she had remembered to bring her iPod.
The water swished this way and that as Ramsey and Kristina evidently repositioned themselves in each other’s arms and nestled closer for a kiss: one that was easily heard, even over rustling water, with enhanced vampiric hearing.
Deanna sighed low beneath her breath.
Oh hell, what had she gotten herself into?
Well, maybe the couple would just say their hellos, get it out of the way, and go back to soaking in the water like decent, rated-PG company.
No such luck.
The hushed gentle murmur of an adoring kiss—two lips meeting in an intimate greeting—quickly grew to something altogether different: a harsh, animalistic growl that reverberated against Deanna’s eardrums like distant thunder rolling across the pool, rising to clash against her sensibilities.
Oh, God, please tell me you’re kidding…
How much further were they going to take this?
They wouldn’t dare…
The last thing Deanna wanted was to bear witness to some barbaric display of otherworldly, pre-mating behavior between the two passionate vampires; and it wasn’t just about being a third wheel or having her peaceful repose disturbed: Deanna did not want to come face-to-face with the reality of her own impending situation, assuming, of course, that Nachari was able to make it back from the Valley of Death and Shadows in time. She did not need a reminder of what went on between vampires of the opposite sex—of what Nachari really was beneath the peaceful sleeping façade of a beautiful wizard and deeply beloved brother: a primal male who had as many primitive instincts as refined.
A male who snarled and growled…
And bit.
And drank blood.
Deanna shivered and clutched her arms to her body
It was all too overwhelming.
She opened her eyes abruptly, hoping to remind her companions that she was right there in their midst, close enough to witness their…passion.
As if sensing her unease, Ramsey withdrew from the kiss, turned to stare at the female sitting just across him in the pool, and smiled.
And then he winked—a slow, insidious smirk stamped on his face.
With crude alacrity, he released what appeared to be an enormous set of wicked-sharp fangs, tickled the tips with his tongue in a cruel display of dominance, and yanked on a handful of Kristina’s bundled hair. Forcing her head awkwardly to the side, he bent to her neck and struck in one fluid, serpentine movement, sinking his fangs so deep that the redhead cried out in pain as he latched on and began to suck in earnest.
Kristina struggled to push him away, her tiny hands anchored against his massive chest in a death grip.
Deanna sat up straight and gaped, open-mouthed, at the two of them, utterly stunned and dismayed. If this was how vampires mated, then Deanna Dubois wanted no part of it.
Not ever.
Not even with Nachari.
If this was how males of the species treated their females, then she was headed out on the next train from Dark Moon Vale station.
This was beyond horrifying.
Or disturbing.
This was obscene.
Dark crimson blood rolled down Kristina’s neck, funneling into the pool like a leaking jet, seeping from the loose seal Ramsey had made over the bite. Deanna cringed and tried to back away. She watched in dazed horror as Kristina’s hands fell slowly from Ramsey’s chest, slid down along the front of his muscled body, and plopped into the pool like weighted stones, finally coming to rest palms-down in the water. The redhead’s body began to twitch violently then, jerking this way and that, completely haphazard, like a wild marionette on the end of a crazed puppeteer’s strings.
Ramsey could not have cared less.
He placed his imposing hands on Kristina’s shoulders to hold her steady; began to suck with even greater ferocity and purpose; and swallowed the blood in great, drugging pulls, appearing for all intents and purposes to be experiencing ecstasy.
It took a moment for Deanna to fully realize what she was seeing.
This wasn’t a mating ritual or the behavior of two passionate animalistic beings. This was one predator destroying another.
Ramsey Olaru was draining Kristina Silivasi right in front of Deanna’s eyes.
He was killing her.
“Hey!” Deanna shouted. “Stop!” Her voice was surprisingly strong despite the rising fear that engulfed her. She wanted to jump from the hot springs and run as fast as she could…as far as she could go. Instead, she sat forward and glared at him, her eyes feeling heated and peculiar. “I said, Stop!” The end of the c
ommand was punctuated by a startling yet distinct growl.
Ramsey opened an eye—just one—and the narrow orb blazed red as he fixed her with a disturbing, malevolent gaze of his own.
Deanna gasped at the unnatural sight.
He looked like a demon!
Some kind of evil creature from hell.
And then, before she could scream, he began to mutate before her eyes—to simply transform his appearance as she watched. His straight, harshly tapered blond hair became a dense, inky black, extending in length until it fell just below his shoulders; and his stunning, natural snowy highlights became bands of coral red, intertwined in the now thick raven tresses, like bands encircling the body of a king cobra. The color of his skin changed, too. The hue became a deeper tan, and his physique grew more sinewy. While still very large and strong, he was no longer a hulk of a man with the bearing of a Roman gladiator; rather, he dropped four or five inches in height—from six-foot-five to an even six feet tall—and his rock-hard chest grew taut with definition. His high, model-like cheekbones softened in their angles and planes; and the effect was somewhat harsh, lending a cruel edge to a different set of handsome features.
His plush lips grew thinner, his wily smile…nastier.
Deanna could hardly comprehend what she was seeing.
This was not the same male.
This was a completely different being crouched low before her, and he was snarling with unrestrained fury as he lapped up what remained of Kristina’s blood in a murderous frenzy.
To hell with bravery!
Deanna jumped up from her seat, desperate to climb out of the pool. She had to get to her cell phone…to call Kagen…to get back to the clinic where her new brothers could protect her.
As she struggled to move through the water, the liquid mass resisting her weight with every push toward the edge, she fought not to stare at Kristina. The female was limp and pale, practically lifeless in the monster’s clutches, and Deanna knew without question that despite her newfound strength and abilities, there was no way she could budge the creature beside her. Not on her best day—or on his worst.
