Rolling onto his back, he considered Lucas’s confession—he had one to make of his own. Resting his head in his palms, he stared at the ceiling. “There’s something about my addiction to your blood that you need to know.”
His grave tone must have put Lucas on edge. He sat up fast. “Go on.”
“You know how Zoey and Andre are a thing?”
“Some kind of vampire bond, right?”
“Yeah. It starts when a vampire develops a hunger for a particular person’s blood. Andre falls in love with her, starts jonesing for her blood, and then, when he actually bites her—something happens. It’s like…biochemical. He tastes her blood and then in some bizarro vampire way, their blood is connected together—they feel each other, they only want each other. It’s like what happens when I bite you, but it’s a permanent thing—apparently, you’re inside each other’s head, heart, even.”
“Sounds hot. It goes the same way when she bites him?”
“Yeah. But with his first wife, a human, it was only one way. Then, when she died, it nearly killed him.”
Lucas stilled, like he was holding his breath or something. Yep, he was getting the idea. He scratched his scalp. “So, that could happen to you—you’re already only hungry for my blood.”
“Pretty much.” Pedro licked his lips.
“And then you’re double fucked because you need me to be human to feed and you need me to be a vampire to bond with you, or else eventually I die.”
Pedro squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
“Well, there is one solution. Do you think you could feed from another Hunter?”
“Leo?”
Lucas lay down again at Pedro’s side. “I actually meant that asshole Derek. He needs a little fang.”
It was Pedro’s turn to sit up. “I don’t get it.”
“I’m working on a plan.” Lucas’s long fingers splayed on his flat belly.
Fuck, he was beautiful, and there was no time to think about that. “Mierda, Lucas, spit it out already.”
“After a few days in the cell with me, Leo’s Hunter programming collapsed like a house of cards. He’s gay, and he was alienated like me. Then you all showed him mercy—he’d join your ranks in an instant.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Derek’s tougher, though. He belongs, he has Ethan’s approval. But a bite is very persuasive, and if you push him, he knows there’s no reason for all the hate.”
Pedro couldn’t believe it. “He’s straighter than a country road.”
“Also true. So maybe Zoey should bite him.”
“Not gonna happen. Andre’s very jealous. Maybe Uta. But what are we going to do with a couple of sympathetic Hunters, anyway?”
“Turn them into vampires and start a civil war.”
Chapter 29
OF ALL THE PLACES TO BRING LENA, Ethan had chosen the cruelest—Kos’s house at the coast. Once it had been her sanctuary from Andre, a place where she found herself again after he’d humiliated her.
The fog hung low in the salty, kelp-scented air. When the cabin came into view through the windshield, she finally spilled the tears she’d held the entire car ride.
With its soft, cloud-filtered light and its walls crammed full of bookshelves, walking into the cozy house was like stepping into Kos’s arms. The breath rushed from her body, and her vision went black. She grabbed onto a coat rack, steadying herself and breathing deeply. It wasn’t over yet, and she had to be brave. She needed to focus.
Maybe she could leave him a message, something for him to find when she was gone. She longed to write the words they both knew were true—she loved him. And he would need to know that she didn’t blame him, too. He was still a stupid coward, but no need to write that part down.
Ethan’s heartless voice filled the room. “Hello, Kosjenic.”
Oh God. This was it. The ransom demand. Her lungs locked up around a chestful of air.
“Yes, she’s here. Perfectly safe. A little nibbled on by your friend Kearney. Have you found out about his proclivities yet? That was an ill-conceived plan you made.”
She could easily imagine Kos stiffening at the charge.
Yes, Ethan was a sadist through and through. “Lena, tell him you’re well.”
She lunged for the phone, but Ethan held her at arms distance. So she shouted. “Don’t bargain with him. He’ll double cross you. Don’t give up the vines. There’s no way to win this.”
Ethan chuckled. “She’s feisty, but you can hear she is fit and fine.” Then he listened to Kos’s response.
Her tears returned. She shouted again, sobbing. “I’m not worth it. Don’t risk it. Andre will never forgive you.”
“Silence, Lena, or I will gag you.” Ethan wagged a finger at her like she was a naughty child.
Creep. But she’d said her piece. She curled up on the low couch where she’d once napped blissfully, pulled up a soft woven blanket, and tried to breathe in Kos’s scent. Gwen sat in a rocker opposite the couch, staring at Lena with a blank expression.
With hollow politeness, Ethan delivered his instructions. “At precisely one hour after sunset, you may retrieve Lena from your house at the coast. When she is in your custody, you will call your father, and he will do whatever it takes to lower that blasted shield.”
Ethan had something in his hand, squeezing his fist so tightly a drop of blood splashed onto the hardwood floor. It was a surprising display of passion. Lena almost smiled to herself. She knew how the shield worked and he didn’t, a small pleasure, like turning her back on him in the burned up vineyard.
“Fly here. Alone. We are watching the estate. No one leaves but you.”
She tried one last time. “Stay away, Kos!”
Ethan crossed to her in three quick steps and backhanded her across the face. Pain bloomed along her cheekbone, and the iron tang of her own blood filled her mouth. She tried to sink further into the couch.
“And finally, Kosjenic, Lena will only have safe passage from this house if the shield is down. All of my snipers will be in position.” After a pause, Ethan laughed. “That is wise. I don’t trust you either. I suppose it comes down to who can outsmart whom.”
He ended the call, slid his phone into his pocket, and went to the kitchen area. At the sink, he unclenched his fist, running it under the faucet. He set something down next to the sink and dried his hands.
Lena squinted, trying to bring the object into focus. Was that one of those plastic toy soldiers? What a nut job—he was like a little boy, trying to play at war, trying to control everyone, a big cruel bully.
Gwen rose. “Lena, would you like to freshen up? You’re covered in blood. Perhaps there is something warm and clean for you to wear.”
Gwen glanced at Ethan, tucking her chin slightly. The look that passed between them told Lena the woman wouldn’t defy him. She might have had a conscience once, but he was her right and wrong now.
And Lena was on her own.
Maybe there were razor blades in Kos’s bathroom.
Chapter 30
“CAN YOU FLY?” Kos asked Uta.
She snorted. “Of course.” Leaning forward, she peered at one of the oil paintings on the wall of Andre’s office. “This all wrong. The pier here much shorter. And are you not remembering? Tom’s house yellow, not white.”
Andre handed her a glass of Blood Vine. “Did you hear about Tom’s death?”
“I am there.” She blinked. “We honor him well. I sing his favorite songs.” She sipped the wine, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her expression was so raw Kos looked away, burning with embarrassment. He did not need to see that look on his Auntie Uta’s face.
Andre passed a glass of wine to Kos. “Are you thinking of the tunnel?”
“Yes. If Uta leaves from there, no one will see.”
“I am not liking this plan. Your house is trap. They are using explosives.”
Zoey set her glass of wine on the coffee table. “Call him back and demand Lena is outside.�
�
Uta shrugged. “He will not be agreeing. Only option is I am finding him before he detonate.”
“Of course Lena’s safety is most important. But is it impossible to save the vines?” Zoey placed Andre’s hand on her shoulder, covering it with her own. She knew him so well—he would think he was comforting her, when really she was holding him up. Another sign that maybe Kos had been wrong about love, and a coward, after all.
Andre shifted his weight. “I do not want to give up hope, but I will do what must be done to save Lena.”
And Kos would do whatever he could to make sure that did not happen. He needed to get Uta alone, make sure they were on the same page—he would face down the Hunters and she would rescue Lena, it was as simple as that.
He had the perfect pretense. “Auntie Uta, I want you to tell me how Bel was conceived.”
Andre threw his glass of wine, shattering it, and picked Kos up by his collar. “No.”
“Why are you wanting this?” Uta examined her fingernails intently, oblivious to Andre’s reaction, or studiously ignoring it.
Zoey rested her hand on his forearm. “Lena wants a child.”
“I see. Andre, you are leaving us. Kos and I are speaking of this.”
“No.” He didn’t set Kos down.
His green eyes blazed with…anger? No, it was fear. What was he afraid of?
“Your son is man. He make his own decisions. He having right to know.”
“Andre, if we save her, this may be the only way she will stay with me.”
The fear still blazed in his father’s eyes, but slowly, Andre lowered Kos to the ground. Everyone stared at him, waiting.
He pouted. “Davo, this is my office.”
Uta shooed him with the hand she’d finished examining. Zoey dragged Andre out before he could explode.
When the door closed behind them, Kos whispered as quietly as possible. “I will need to know about Bel, if she lives. But first, I need to know something else.”
She dropped into one of the overstuffed armchairs and put her very high heels up on the coffee table. “I am knowing the answers to many of your questions, I suspect.”
“Why did Andre bond with Mila?” He closed his eyes, rolled his shoulders, and hoped for an answer that would free him to love Lena—forever.
“Hmm. Of course you are wondering this. Normally a blood bond does not go so wrong.”
His eyes popped open. “Really?”
“It is only because Mila is refusing the bond.”
“But if she loved him, why did she do that?” Kos lowered himself onto the sturdy coffee table and leaned closer, resting his elbows on his knees. Uta smelled like the island of Šolta, which was impossible.
A cascade of auburn hair rippled when she shook her head. “Mila is loving idea of Andre, not real Andre.”
“But didn’t he see through that? He’s not easily fooled.”
She narrowed her eyes, pinning him. “I’ll tell you truth, but you must not blame yourself.”
What could that possibly mean? He opened his palms to her. “Okay.”
“He love you, want you for son so much he not question Mila enough.”
“Me?”
“You are little angel, little version of Andre, following him around vineyard, asking every question. And you have no father, you love him. He choose you, he take Mila too.”
That simply couldn’t be true. He’d always assumed gruff Andre was a reluctant father, even if a damn good one. “But I remember that he loved her. I remember the way he touched her, spoke to her.”
“The bond make him love her. But it bad match.”
Andre had done it for him. Kos wasn’t the baggage, he was the prize. Warmth rushed through him, the most amazing feeling, thawing places he hadn’t known were frozen. Was this how Lena felt, when she finally realized he wanted her? And then he took it away, because he was a coward and a fool.
“All this time, I thought—”
“Maybe, you are waiting for her. You good match? She love you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Good. Now we go save her.”
He’d been so wrong, had made a terrible mess. He would make it right, and he wouldn’t let Lena, Andre, or the rest of the vampires pay for it.
“Uta.”
At the sound of her name, she focused her ancient eyes on him.
He mouthed his words so that no one in the house could hear. “Me. Not her, not the vines.”
Her bottom lip swallowed the top one, pulling her mouth into a thin line. Her eyes glistened, and she nodded. For a second, she looked like she cared—his old Auntie Uta, before she stabbed Bel in the back.
The quietest whisper of words floated to his ears, and her lips moved. Krist—that was serious old-time vampire power—almost telepathy. “Your father will kill me, but I am understanding this kind of love, and this kind of burden. You do what you must, I save girl.”
She stood, and Kos followed her from Andre’s office. His father stood mere feet from the door. Sneaky son of a bitch. Good thing they’d been careful.
“Is it true about Mother?”
“Yes.” Andre pulled him into a rare hug, resting his face on Kos’s shoulder, and gripping the back of his head. They stood locked that way for a long time, and the depth of his father’s love made what Kos had to do far worse.
Toes tapped on the stone floor of the cellar, and Uta said, “Yes. Yes. Enough. I hungry. Who can I eat?”
Kos was hungry too. But minutes later, when Susan and Ally stood in the foyer, dark circles under both their eyes, he decided to drink Blood Vine instead. With Lena out of the rotation, and Zoey feeding her young hunger, the two women were tapped.
Uta flung her fingers at the women. “I taking one of prisoners. Your household stretched thin.”
“You want to feed from a Hunter? You said their smell made you puke.”
There was her damn shrug again. “You are seeing picture I sent, of vampires under sunshine. Maybe it turn me into super vampire.”
He rubbed his chin. “You pretty much already are a super vampire.”
“True. But, I not walking in sun.”
They backtracked through the cellar to the workroom, and Kos opened the door to the makeshift cell. Uta stepped inside. “I am taking grown-up.”
“Hell no. No parasite is taking my blood. Fuck off.”
“Oooh. He is fighter. How fun.” She had Nichols on the floor with a hand covering his mouth in a second, muffling his hateful drivel.
That left the kid for Kos. Or more Blood Vine. He needed to be strong for Lena, so the kid it was.
“Leo, right? You’re with me.”
The kid actually smiled, ear to ear. How had little mister rogue Hunter become a vampire groupie so fast?
Kos sat him on a stool. “Put your hands out and grip the worktable. You might swoon.”
“From blood loss?”
“No.” There was no sense explaining—he’d figure it out soon enough.
Kos licked his neck and shuddered. Licking men was really not his thing, but blood was blood. Fangs out and into Leo’s neck. When his blood hit the roof of Kos’s mouth, pleasure exploded through him. Krist, that was no ordinary blood.
He was an infant at his mother’s breast. He walked hand in hand with a very tall Andre through the vineyards on Šolta. He unwrapped a toy train. He was at a table spread with roast meats and baklava. He was inside Lena’s sweet heat. He swallowed, and his veins buzzed with power, an energy far greater than the Blood Vine bestowed.
He was home. Everything was right with the world. He could stop Ethan Bennett. Lena would be fine. They could live happily ever after.
His skin heated with that burning pleasure that could only be—the sun.
He sighed. Could he really be in the light of day? Opening his eyes, the workroom at Kaštel materialized. The Hunter kid rested in his arms, slumped over the worktable.
Leo groaned, stroking himself through his pant
s.
Kos squeezed his eyes shut, but he couldn’t blame the kid. He hadn’t given him any warning. He licked the punctures on Leo’s neck closed and steadied him under his arms. Leo found purchase on his stool, gripping the table.
Slowly, he turned to face Kos, his eyes huge. “Oh.”
Kos couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s the part they never tell you.”
A door slammed behind him, and he turned to see Uta standing outside the closet. Her hair stood away from her head like she’d had an electric shock. She twisted her pants on her hips, straightening them. Then she smoothed the sleeves of her jacket.
Her eyes locked onto Kos’s. Melodic Croatian flew out of her mouth in a rhythm so different from her broken English. “Jebi me u sve rupe, to je najbolja stvar koju sam ikad okusila.”
Kos laughed again. His auntie was as over-the-top as ever.
Leo stood on alert. “What did she say?”
“She said, ‘Fuck me in every hole, that was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.’”
“Derek’s blood?”
“Yeah,” Kos replied matter-of-factly.
The kid scratched his head. “That means something, doesn’t it?”
Kos took a deep breath, pondering his answer. “Yes it does, Leo. But I sure as hell don’t know what.”
Finally, Uta finished her wardrobe adjustments. “Kos, I very strong now. We are going to get your girl.”
Lena ran her finger over the neatly shelved CD cases. Thankfully, Kos hadn’t put them all on his iPod yet. She found it—Ella sings Gershwin. Lena turned the volume to almost silent, queued up “Our Love is Here to Stay,” and set it on repeat. She couldn’t hear it, but Kos would, even from far, far above in the sky.
Good old George Gershwin was surely right—true love would outlast passing fads. Maybe it would even hold up to the biggest mountain ranges. In his long, long life, Kos would not forget her, even if she wished it for him. Hopefully he would at least find the courage to love again sometime.
Gwen perused Kos’s bookshelves, but always kept one eye on Lena. Eventually the petite woman settled into a big chair with a dusty leather volume.
Blood Entangled Page 26
