Blood Entangled

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Blood Entangled Page 15

by Amber Belldene


  It never stopped being weird to see his own eyes staring back at him.

  Pedro took his hand. “Why do Hunters hate vampires?”

  Where did that question come from?

  “We always have.”

  “But why? Don’t you have some history, some reason? Otherwise, there is no explaining why someone would think your father and Ethan are good guys and Andre and Kos are bad.”

  “That’s naïve. Think about homophobia, or ethnic hatred. It’s always us versus them, even if the others like us are assholes.”

  Pedro pressed his lips together. He obviously knew it was true, just didn’t like it.

  “I’m sorry. I know you’re not naïve. And I like that you see people that way—as reasonable, and…good. Plenty of people are like that. I just happen to know a lot who aren’t.” He interlaced their fingers and squeezed Pedro’s hand.

  “Did they come after me to hurt you?”

  “Yes. And to test my loyalty.”

  His thick, handsome eyebrows pulled together. “You chose me over them?”

  “I chose doing the right thing for once, and the fact I was hot for you made it an easier decision. I’ve been a coward for a long time.”

  “Were they cruel to you?”

  “To my face, Ethan was kind. But I suspected for a long time he was hiding that sadistic side. My father was a mean bastard ever since he guessed I was gay. At my initiation, he set me up to kill the gay lover of a vampire.”

  “How did you get out of it?”

  His gut knotted to remember the man’s blood pooling on linoleum. But if they were going to do this star-crossed lovers thing, they needed to get all the cards on the table.

  “I didn’t get out of it.”

  Pedro was quiet for a long time. What was he thinking? Their hands were still entwined, and Lucas’s wrist was twisted at an awkward angle, but he forced himself to remain still.

  Finally, Pedro spoke. “So, tell me the truth. Why do Hunters hate vampires?”

  Lucas wasn’t ready to confess his suspicions. He needed more time to finish the drawings and double-check his theories. What could he say to put Pedro off?

  “Vampires feed off human beings. It scares them. They think you are parasites.”

  Pedro withdrew his hand, stiffening. “You don’t seem to mind.”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t either. I wish I could make you feel the way you do me.”

  “Do you?”

  Lucas had said it without thinking, but it was the truth. “Yes.”

  “But I still can’t fuck you?” Pedro gave him a dopey grin—

  Phew. Not a serious question.

  Lucas chuckled and leaned in to kiss him lightly. “No, but I will give you that hand job and tell you about the best fuck I ever had. The first one isn’t worth mentioning.”

  “That’s a deal. But first I have to ask. Do you know what Ethan’s planning with all his research?”

  Lucas had to wrench the lie from his chest. “No. I have no idea.”

  The words turned bitter in his mouth as he drifted off to sleep next to his almost-lover.

  Hours later, he woke alone, slowly drifting into consciousness.

  Absolutely still, he observed his body and mind from some third space outside both. It was rare for him to be so mellow. He felt that post-coital—make that post-super-hot-coital—kind of laziness. The off-limits fuck remained tempting, but the bite plus blowjob plus boyfriend feeling of his time with Pedro was pretty damn good. It was hard to get his ass off the bed and start drawing again.

  Why do Hunters hate vampires?

  Pedro’s question rang in his ear like an alarm bell. He had to get up and get to work.

  Keeping secrets from the vampire sucked, especially when things were so cozy. But, with Lucas’s potentially magic blood, the idea of becoming a vampire commodity sucked even more, no pun intended. He needed to know for certain before he decided what to do.

  He sketched with graphite and only used the colored pencils sparingly, nearly completing the first drawing. If only he could rush, leaving out unimportant details, so that he could piece the story together faster. But his memory didn’t work that way. Instead, he got lost in the image, line by line, and could only emerge from it when he had precisely completed a segment. Besides, he didn’t really know which details he could afford to leave out.

  At least the illustrations were simple. They were two-dimensional line drawings similar to religious icons.

  First came a couple—a male vampire and a female Hunter. His fangs dripped blood, and his obscenely large penis jutted across the image. The caricature of a predator, he feasted on the Huntress, who did not seem to mind being the prey. With her golden eyes rolled back in her lolling head and her legs splayed around the vampire, she appeared equally lascivious. It was not a leap to infer the illustrator disapproved of such relationships.

  Lucas shaded the blue-black night sky behind the pair, and then focused on the second drawing. It was nearly identical to the first, except that the vampire and the Huntress embraced one another in broad daylight.

  Just as he’d remembered—it must have been her blood that allowed him to stand in the sun.

  At a desk piled high with textbooks, Pedro was lost in thought. Lucas had dozed off, all loose-limbed and fine, spread out on white sheets, so Pedro had returned to his room and cracked open a painfully dull encyclopedia—ideal for relaxing his gray matter.

  The sound of knuckles rapping on his doorframe made him jump. In the back of his mind he’d been aware of footsteps, but didn’t guess Andre was actually coming to see him, since Zoey kept him pretty busy most nights. Pedro had considered hanging with a snoozing Lucas on the other wing of the house just to hear less of their busy.

  “What’s all this?” Andre asked.

  “I’m studying.”

  Andre used his finger to mark Pedro’s page and closed the book to read its cover. “Una Historia de Vino y la Cultivacion de Uvas. I am certain that is fascinating. What is the expression—a page-turner?”

  “Maybe not, but it’s the definitive resource.”

  “I am an excellent resource myself. What are you looking for?”

  “Hard to believe, but, I’m looking for information even older than you, O Ancient One.” Pedro tucked a scrap of paper into the book and slid it to a remote corner of his desk.

  “Impossible.” The corners of Andre’s mouth turned up ever so slightly. He always could laugh at himself, something Pedro had long admired.

  “Bel’s research is so focused on the blood. Don’t you want to know why the wine works? It can’t just be a coincidence.”

  Andre sat on the end of Pedro’s bed, his small smile becoming a frown. “I see your point.”

  “So, I want to know where your grapes originated. Were they native to Šolta, or did they come from somewhere else?”

  “I acquired the vines from other growers on Šolta.”

  “Right, so did they domesticate a wild species, or bring the grapes from somewhere else?”

  “Good question. That was centuries before even I was born.”

  “This book says grapes were grown for wine in the Caucasus six thousand years before Christ.”

  “Truly?”

  Surprising Andre with a wine fact was something to be proud of. Pedro grinned. “For real. So here’s my question. Where do Hunters come from?”

  “Everywhere, they are everywhere.”

  “But they didn’t start out everywhere. They spread out from some place, and I want to know where.”

  “Have you asked Lucas?”

  “No. But I did ask him why Hunters hate vampires.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing really. He thought it should be obvious, because of our need for blood.”

  Andre shrugged. “That is to be expected. If you are raised with those beliefs, you take the reasons for granted. I take it you managed to make nice?”

  Pedro’s making nice had left him feeling
nice about Lucas. “Yeah, we’re better.”

  Andre glanced at his groin.

  “Eyes up here, man. Yeah. We hooked up.”

  Relief and concern crossed Andre’s face, one after the other.

  “Have you forgiven him?” he asked.

  Pedro’s feelings were constantly shifting. His attraction to Lucas remained strong, and he liked the guy. He’d thought growing up a gay kid in the Spanish countryside had been hard, but the Hunters had really put Lucas through the wringer. He’d done some fucked up things for them, but now he wanted to make them right.

  Still, he’d stood by while Ethan—

  Icy stabs of pain shot up Pedro’s legs, and he shut down the memory. He curled his toes in his shoes and willed warmth into them. Next came the fury—

  Lucas had brought that torture down on Pedro, let it happen—

  The dime flipped, and fury surged through him. Madre de Dios, he was a regular Jekyl and Hyde. “No. I haven’t forgiven him. But for the time being, friendly works better.”

  “Good, on both counts. Do not let your guard down. You must hold onto the memories of what happened to you, and his part in it.”

  “Like I have a choice. Every moment I’m alone, I’m back in that shed.” Pedro snorted, and reached to stroke the book with mock affection. “So I’m curled up with Una Historia instead.”

  “With time, you will forget. But for now, it is good to remember. Otherwise, fucking and biting is a heady combination. You will grow attached and start feeling responsible for him, even without a bond.”

  Pedro wasn’t about to tell Andre they weren’t fucking. Too complicated to explain. But a bond?

  “A bond like you share with Zoey? Could that happen?”

  Andre scratched the black stubble on his jaw. “I have known several homosexual vampires in my life. Only one pair was bonded.” Andre smacked his lips together, as if he suddenly had a bad taste in his mouth. “Davo, it was like Caligula all the time at their place.”

  “Caligula? That old porno?”

  “I was thinking of the real Emperor Caligula, but I imagine it is much the same.”

  It was a nasty comparison. “Fuck, Andre, you sound like Kos.”

  “What?” Andre’s eyes brows pulled together in sad perplexity. Then his lips parted. “You mean that I am implying all homosexuals are perverts? You know me better. Those two in particular were sick bastards, and they happened to be bonded. The other gay vampires I knew were perfectly wholesome. The kind of males you would want to bond with your sister, if only.”

  Pedro chuckled at the choice of words, and instantly cooled off.

  Andre stood and placed a firm hand on Pedro’s shoulder. “You must be careful. Even with the complexity of your relationship with Lucas, it could happen. You will know you are in danger of bon—”

  “Danger? You still think of it that way, even with Zoey?”

  Andre’s mouth formed into a secretive smile. “Old habits die hard. And Zoey is dangerous in her own way.”

  Best not to think about whatever that meant. It gave Pedro the heebie-jeebies, like he’d walked in on his parents having sex.

  “And it would be dangerous for you to bond with him.” Andre patted Pedro’s shoulder. “You will know you are at risk if you hunger for him, and him alone, even when you have no appetite for blood. This hunger signifies a deep attachment.”

  “Um. That’s a problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I already feel that way about his blood. Because of the Hunter mojo, or whatever.”

  “Davo.” Andre dropped back onto the bed and crossed his arms.

  “What will I do if I end up bonded to him? How will I even know?”

  “You will know. A part of him will be inside you, you’ll feel him all the time.”

  That sounded good, hot, even, to Dr. Jekyll. To Mr. Hyde, it sounded like a death sentence. He clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms.

  “As to what you’ll do if it happens, we’ll cross that road…” Andre chose his word carefully “…if we get there.”

  Great, it was more than just possible. It was too goddamn likely.

  “Andre, let me get back to my book. Maybe I’ll learn something helpful.”

  He wasn’t really hopeful. Even in the monster book, he’d never find anything that would satisfy his hunger for Lucas.

  “Of course,” Andre said. His mouth remained open to speak, making him look like he wanted to say something else.

  Pedro leaned forward, suddenly aching for a word of reassurance.

  None came. After a moment, Andre closed his mouth and walked out.

  Chapter 17

  KOS HAD LET LENA fall asleep in his arms, and hours later, he still wasn’t sure if he was sorry. On the upside, the most amazing woman he’d ever met was wrapped around him and occasionally purred like a kitten. The downside was that, while she slept soundly, he was a beehive of anxiety, forced to remain perfectly still.

  Had he really seen love burning in her eyes?

  Maybe it was his imagination.

  No. It was love, and it had connected his cock and his heart with a live wire, jolting through him in an orgasm of body and soul. Which was exactly what he was afraid of.

  He’d fallen in love, and so had she. And he would never have sex like that again. Every relationship, every kiss, every climax, would pale. With time, he would forget. Though it would be a very, very long time.

  Krist—Pedro might forget all the horrors he suffered at the hand of Ethan Bennett before Kos could let go of Lena.

  Love. It only made him more determined to send her away. Surely this was exactly how Andre had felt about Mila, how he cared for Zoey now. And it was only a matter of time before love failed. Love was for humans, because it only had to last their trivial lifetime. Perhaps at best it could last centuries, but eventually it would implode, destroying Lena, and him, in its collapse.

  He stared at the ceiling, cocooned in her scent and her soft embrace, barely containing his panic.

  Someone drove up to the house just before dawn. The front door slammed shut and Bel’s voice drifted upstairs. Kos grew restless.

  Lena squeezed him tighter. “Hmm.”

  “Sweetheart, Bel is here. I need to talk to him. Okay?”

  She rubbed her eyes. “Sure. Kiss me first.”

  He brushed his lips over hers, then again. His tongue was in her mouth before he knew it. Then he caught himself. “Okay. I’m going. Please don’t move. Don’t shower, don’t brush your hair. It will break my heart if you aren’t in the exact same place when I get back.”

  She giggled.

  “Lena, I’m serious. I’m keeping you in bed all day. We have lots to do before you go.” He hoped his intent look pinned her there.

  At least she stopped laughing, her lips parted in surprise. “I should go make breakfast.”

  “Let them fend for themselves.”

  Before he reached the door, she said, “Toss me War and Peace. I know how you are with Bel, you could be gone all morning. And bring me coffee when you come back. It sounds like I’ll need the energy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He handed her the tome with a little bow then slipped from the room.

  Bel was in the workroom with Andre, trying to explain his research. Andre was piddling with the bottling machine, spraying lubricant on its many parts for when they resumed the bottling, after the party.

  “Fascinating, Bel,” Andre said absently, without taking his eyes off the machine. He probably hadn’t heard a word of the explanation. He turned to face Kos and spoke in the same distracted tone. “Who did you deflower?”

  Bel coughed.

  Kos froze. “What?”

  Andre’s mouth fell open, as if he’d just realized what he had said. “Davo. Lena? A virgin? I never would have guessed.”

  “How in the world can you smell that?” Kos asked.

  “Very distinct. Virgins were a hobby for a while when I was first turned.”r />
  Bel shook his head. “Christ, Andre, that’s sick.”

  “Do not be so self-righteous. They were all quite willing, and not only after I bit them. I can be very charming when I bother.”

  Bel hopped onto the work table, his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you sure? It’s not like riding a bike. You can forget how to charm.”

  Andre glared at him. Great, another father-son fistfight. Kos rose up on his toes, ready to intervene. But Andre didn’t take the bait after all. Impressive resistance. Maybe they were on the road to reconciliation.

  He wiped his hands on a rag. “So, did she traipse around naked, pop her cherry on you, and then insist you keep her?”

  Kos hit him. Neither of them expected it. His fist came so fast that he caught Andre off guard and actually landed a good hook to his jaw.

  “Ow! Damn it, Kos!” He rubbed from his ear to his chin.

  Perched on the table, Bel swung his dangling legs. “Pop her cherry? Where did you pick up that charming euphemism?”

  “Zoey, of course.” Andre laughed. “Good for you, Kos. I do not think you have ever hit me before.”

  Bel snorted. “That’s not what you say when I hit you.”

  “That became tedious long ago, son.”

  Kos stared at the bruise on Andre’s face, which purpled and then faded just as quickly. “Don’t talk that way about her. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Did she ask you to keep her?”

  “No. Not that it’s any of your business. We just had a friendly good-bye, which I plan to continue for the rest of the day.”

  They stared at him.

  “What?”

  “Friendly good-bye? The rest of the day? You’ve got it bad, bro.”

  “Perhaps I do, but she’s leaving, so there’s no reason to worry.”

  Andre cocked his head. “She truly did not beg and plead?”

  “No, Andre. You managed to steal every shred of hope from her. She didn’t ask twice.” And a good thing too, because he didn’t know if he was strong enough to say what had to be said.

  No, I cannot risk loving you, for your own sake and for mine.

  “Do you love her?” Andre asked.

  Kos lifted his chin toward his father. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

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