Lena said silent prayers and thanksgivings. All things considered, she had a lot to be thankful for—a loving home, friends, one amazing night with Kos. From glass doors in the living room, she watched the sky darken over the ocean. The doors opened onto the deck, built right over the sea cliff, where waves thundered, crashing below.
“Lena, come here.” Ethan stood by the front door, and he opened it as she approached. He pointed to the shrubs and alder trees lining Kos’s property. “Do you see the snipers?”
“Yes.”
“Gwen and I will join them momentarily, you will remain here and wait for Kosjenic.”
She hugged herself, staring out into the gloomy twilight. “You’re going to blow us up.”
“Why would I do something like that?”
She spun to face him. “He knows it’s a trap.”
“But he will come anyway.”
Ethan was right.
Apparently, Gwen couldn’t stand for that particular book to be incinerated. She wrapped her arm around it and followed Ethan into the trees.
The clock said Kos was due in ten minutes. She couldn’t cut it too close—he was always early, and she had to finish it before he arrived.
She turned up the volume on the stereo, took a deep breath, and strode toward the door.
When she was five or six feet from the exit, a dozen red dots streaked across the doorframe and over her arms, marking her torso with their terrifying glow—the snipers had taken aim. All she had to do was jog those last few steps, and it would be all over.
But suddenly, she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. She lunged back from the door, and ran across the room, yanking open the sliding glass to the deck. Climbing onto the rail, she shouted, “I love you,” to the night sky. Then she dove off the deck into the churning, rocky ocean.
Chapter 31
KOS HAD ONLY FLOWN three times in his life, but it was enough to know that Hunter blood was rocket fuel. Energy pumped through his veins so efficiently his breath came in long, steady draws.
Away from prying vampire ears, he had more questions for Uta, and he needed answers before he faced Lena. Instinctively, he shouted over the loud wind rushing past his ears, although Uta was so old she would have heard a whisper.
“Tell me how it works, with the baby.”
“Now?”
“If she lives, I must have this to offer her.” Kos corkscrewed in the air to glimpse Uta. Somehow, the dramatic setting for this talk seemed appropriate for the airing of family secrets.
She swallowed, her white throat tensing. Then she nodded, and the words rushed out of her. “It is taking blood.”
“Blood?”
“Vampire is not having any…govna, what is word?”
“Sperm.” Kos hadn’t known that fact for sure, but it made sense.
“Yes. You are having none of those. But your blood very potent. So, when woman fertile, you pierce your finger and put your blood inside her, with your heritage, your denes?”
“Genes.”
“Yes, genes, in your blood. It go inside egg and she makes baby.”
Bleeding inside a woman was too easy. Not part of what he normally got up to, but it wasn’t so bad, and surely Lena could handle it. “That’s it?”
She exhaled, letting him know he was the most infuriating moron on the planet. “No, that not it. If you do only that, your blood is killing egg, eating it.”
The skin of his face was dry from the cold air, and it creased painfully when he cringed. “It devours the egg.”
“Da. Egg must be stronger, cijepljena…”
“Cijepljena?” His mind searched for a translation. “Inoculated…like a vaccine? With what?”
“Vampire blood.”
“How?”
Uta flew ahead of him and hovered, upright, one knee bent. Her auburn hair blew in the wind. Her gray suit shone like the moon in the night sky—she was a ghostly apparition. Floating there, she made a bottoms-up gesture, as if drinking from a glass.
“Mother drank blood?”
Uta darted up into blackness, then reappeared at his side. “Yes. Every day, so egg is growing strong before it fertil…vhatever.”
“Similar to organ transplant, the patient’s immune system is suppressed so her body doesn’t reject the organ.”
“Da, exactly.”
“So, whose blood did mother drink before she conceived Bel?”
Uta flew alongside him in silence, as if building up dramatic tension before she named the vampire. Only she didn’t.
And suddenly the answer was obvious. Krist. “You?”
“Yes. And it working, but it having cost.”
Kos’s stomach descended all the way to ground, hundreds of feet below. What on earth could that mean? Bel was fine—healthy and immortal, with none of the pesky downsides of vampire-hood.
“What cost?”
“Shash. You are hearing that?”
They’d reached his house too early, leaving plenty of time for her to explain. But the most important thing was Lena’s safety, so he listened. The briny wind whistled past his head, and the ocean waves were a constant roar below, but Kos opened his ears for another sound. The musical notes reached him, and he lost his concentration, free falling who knew how far. Uta grabbed him, dragging him behind her until he found his lift again and flew alongside her.
“This music mean something?”
Unable to manage a reply, he nodded. Lena had sent him a message. Was it a promise, or a good-bye?
They cut wide circles around the property, seeing the position of all the snipers.
She sniffed loudly. “You are smelling c4?”
“Is that what it is?” He’d barely registered the unfamiliar plastic smell.
“Hunters are loving it. They are buying special product, no safety odor added. Are thinking we not smell. Fools.”
At that moment, Ethan Bennett and some tiny woman came through the front door. She was carrying Kos’s first edition of Tennyson’s Poems, Cheifly Lyrical. The bitch.
“Woman at Hunt?” Uta said. “Unusual.”
The plan could work. He would come up behind Ethan, while Uta landed on the deck and grabbed Lena. The snipers wore night vision goggles, but Uta was fast. They would see one blur of heat in and out of the house without knowing it wasn’t Kos. And Kos could tie up Bennett’s trigger hand in the meantime; surely he would be the one to push the button. He was the power hungry maniac.
“Kos, look.”
The snipers moved as one, training the guns on the front door. Lena stood in its shadows, speckled with their laser sights. Krist, she wouldn’t. She vanished deeper into the house, and he exhaled with relief.
The backdoor rolled open and she was on the deck rail.
“I love you.”
No!
She jumped.
He dove down, even as he heard Uta say, “Go. I get Bennett.”
Pedro pushed the tips of his fingers into the white wall of the dining room. He felt like climbing it. Maybe he actually could, now that he was a vampire. But no claws extended, no sticky spidey webs shot out. He would have to do another lap around the table instead.
Zoey hung a new IV bag for the gaunt Trys then zeroed in on the phone lying on the table. Lucas’s and Andre’s eyes were glued to it too. Pedro joined the party, sitting next to the witch and drumming his fingers on the table.
Andre growled at him, and Trys pressed his fingers flat and still.
The phone rang.
Andre reached for it with a shaking hand. Zoey took it, pressing the green button and the speakerphone.
“Kos?” Andre croaked.
“I have her. She’s safe. Do it.”
“But…”
A long pause followed, and then Kos replied, “It’s the only way, Father.”
Tears of blood pooled in Andre’s eyes. Trys watched him, waiting for the go ahead. Zoey stood close, propping him up. Lucas stared at the phone, his eyebrows drawn together.
Kos spoke aga
in. “Andre, now. Please. If they blow this place, I might survive, but she won’t.”
Andre gave Trys the nod.
She opened her mouth in a wide yawn and inhaled. As she filled with breath, color returned to her face. Tendrils of feathery magic retracted into her, caressing Pedro’s skin like silk as they floated by. Zoey rubbed her arms, she must have sensed it too. Andre collapsed into a chair. Lucas still frowned at the phone.
Trys looked up. “It’s done.”
“Thank you.” Kos hung up.
Everyone turned to the window, except Andre, who bent forward and buried his face in his arm. No sound came from him, but his back rose and fell in the rhythm of sobs. Zoey rubbed up and down his spine as the night sky began to glow.
Hijo de puta. How many of them were out there? Perhaps a hundred flame throwers appeared on the horizon. It would all be ash in minutes.
Something wet trickled down Pedro’s face. He wiped it with the back of his hand, and saw blood. For Andre, and for their vines, and for all the vampires, he cried.
Chapter 32
WHERE WAS SHE?
She hadn’t surfaced. She wasn’t on the rocks.
Kos dove under the water, swimming against the powerful push and pull of the waves. How long had she been under?
It was so hard to see through the forest of kelp and the froth of churned up water. If she’d been dragged out past where the waves were breaking, the current would have pulled her south.
His eyes burned from the salt water. He dove again, swimming out of the inlet, and scanned the shoreline.
There, at the tip of the outcropping—she was tangled in ropes of kelp. Her head was under, but the swell passed, and she surfaced for a moment.
Was she breathing?
He swam as hard as he could. His clothes dragged him; the undertow pulled him. It was much harder than flying.
Finally, he reached her, working to free her from the seaweed. She didn’t stir, didn’t breathe. Underwater, he kicked his feet as fast as he could, building power, and then launched them into the air.
His house became a fireball, a tsunami of heat barreling toward them. He covered her, diving underwater again.
Above the ocean, the sky went bright, then dark. He kicked toward the surface again, where the water had been heated by the blast. Then he was in the air. He landed on a stretch of sand, and laid her down.
Blood flowed from some place on her scalp, but oxygen was the most important thing. He tried to push the water from her lungs, but he didn’t really know how. He compressed her belly, her chest. Nothing happened. He opened her mouth and blew in, but her lungs didn’t expand, they were so full of seawater. He closed his mouth over hers and sucked with all his might. His mouth filled with brine. He swallowed it, and did it again.
She coughed. He rolled her over, and she coughed and vomited, coughed and vomited. Then she passed out.
He tried to rouse her. Please, God, let her live.
He held her, trying to warm her. He kissed her, like a fairy tale.
Nothing.
From above the cliffs somewhere, Uta shouted, “Sing. Oh wait, you are lousy singer. Just hum.”
He cleared his throat of salt water and did his best with the melody. It had been her farewell. Would it bring her back?
Her eyes fluttered open, and she croaked. “You’re really tone deaf.”
“Oh thank, God.” He wanted to grab her, squeeze her, but she looked so frail.
A hand went to her scalp, where she had a deep gash. She winced. “What happened?”
“You jumped.” He seized her other hand. It was freezing.
“I know that. What about at Kaštel?”
“I didn’t call. Should be fine.” His phone was still in his pocket, soaked.
“Thank God. Kos, I couldn’t live with myself if—”
He couldn’t wait any longer. He picked her up and cradled her, rocking. “Shh. Brave girl. Don’t worry.”
She burrowed into him, shivering. He needed to get her warm. Could she make it all the way back to Kaštel, wet and freezing? He was just as wet and not providing much warmth.
“Kosjenic Marasović, pieka ti se zgadila. Fly skinny ass up here and help me.”
“Who is that?” Lena asked, mumbling into his chest.
He smoothed her wet hair, probably mostly to soothe himself. “My Auntie Uta. We’re your rescue team.”
Lena craned her head to look at him. “What did she say?”
“Old Croatian curse.”
Her golden brows arched. “What does it mean?”
“May you find pussy repulsive.”
Those eyebrows scrunched adorably.
He grinned. “Don’t worry. Unlikely to happen.”
She giggled, filling his heart with the best sound he’d ever heard. Better even than after they’d made love.
“Lena, I’m so sorry I let all this—”
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s over. We’re safe. Go help her.”
“Will you be okay? I’ll just be a minute.” He hated leaving her. But he already knew the answer—she was tougher than most of the vampires he knew. She’d jumped off his deck—pretty much a suicide mission. His gut twisted all over again.
“Yeah. I’ll be okay.”
It was a wasteland on top of the cliff. His house had been leveled. Several of the snipers were dead, bleeding from their mouths and ears—the blast wave had gotten them. Overeager sons of bitches must have used too much c4.
“Kos. You are getting over here.”
He followed Uta’s voice.
Ouch. She was impaled on a fencepost, flailing her arms like a belly-up cockroach, a dead Hunter skewered on top of her like a shish kebob. Her blood ran down the post, slick and glossy-black in the moonlight.
He pulled the Hunter off. Lucky for her, the post went right through her abdomen, above her pelvis and below her ribs. Re-growing bone took a whole day and hurt like hell. Her soft tissue would heal in minutes.
“You okay? How much blood did you lose?”
“I not bad. Hunter bleeding his magic right into me.”
“What happened?”
“I grab Bennett, but he not have remote control thing. The woman. She have it in book. I am recognizing her. She one of Mason’s…” Uta faltered, glancing toward the ruins of the house.
One of…Krist. What had Lena suffered?
“She is knowing me too. She is saying she sorry, then push button. I am still holding Ethan. Grab this other Hunter too, for shielding blast.” Uta kicked him with her designer heels. Their leather was blistered, and the stilettos were warped from the heat. Still, she stood perfectly straight.
“Ethan thrown far. Me and asshole stuck here.” She stepped on his hand, and lots of bones popped.
“Is Bennett dead?”
Uta brushed her palms together. “No. He is driving off with woman.”
“Damn it.”
“Lena okay?” Uta reached for his arm.
“Yeah.”
“Get her. I am looking around.”
Back at the beach, Lena leaned against a smooth boulder, shivering. She hugged herself tightly, eyes closed, breathing steadily. He knelt next to her, and brushed sand off her face.
“Almost ready. Come up top with me. Then we’ll fly home.”
“Home.”
The word sounded hollow, and he didn’t know what to make of her tone. They had a lot of talking to do. He cradled her in his arms, which made flying awkward. But it was just a hop up the cliff.
“Oh, Kos,” she gasped. “Your house. I’m sorry.”
He set her on her feet, holding her elbow just in case. “All that matters is you’re safe.”
She surveyed the rubble, not looking at him.
“Kos. You are needing to see this.” Uta stood with one foot in a black van that had been knocked over in the blast.
Not wanting to leave Lena, he tugged her along to investigate. Inside the van a Hunter lay dead, his face flattened against electr
ical equipment.
“What is this?” Kos’s shoulders bunched instinctively.
“He looks like Leo.” Lena reached for Kos’s hand.
He did—fatter and older—probably his father. Uta took a picture of him with her phone. Good idea, the kid might need to see.
“Listen.” Uta pushed a button.
His own voice came from a speaker. “I have her. She’s safe. Do it.”
No. It couldn’t be.
She pushed another button, and again Kos heard his own voice. “It’s the only way, Father.”
Lena yanked her hand away, covering her ears and shaking her head. “No!”
Kos grabbed her before she could pull away, afraid of what she might do.
One more button, his voice pleading. “Andre, now. Please. If they blow this place, I might survive, but she won’t.”
His stomach wrung itself into a knot. He’d failed after all. Uta would have saved Lena. He should have stopped this.
Uta slapped him and he tottered, his ears ringing. She glared. “I am seeing your thoughts. Same storms brewing in your eyes as Mila’s. You are stopping now. You too, girl. It is done. Now we pick up pieces. Start over. This what our kind is doing, always.”
Kos leaned against the van and slid to the ground, pulling Lena into his lap. She was so cold and damp.
She sniffed. “Andre will hate me.”
Kos rested his chin on her head. “No. He’ll hate himself.”
“Then I am slapping him too. Now, we are going to Kaštel.”
Uta took off her blood stained jacket and gave it to Lena. At least it was dry. She didn’t even blink before she put on the gory thing. Uta bent her knees and launched herself into the air.
“Hold on.” Kos squeezed Lena tight and pushed off with the balls of his feet into the sky.
The night air froze him to the bone. His fingertips stung from the cold until they finally went numb. Lena shivered against him, crying tears that turned to ice by the time they hit his face.
Would she be okay? She had gashes on her head, a nasty bite mark on her neck.
“Oh no,” she whispered.
Below, the red and white lights of three fire engines lined the highway in front of Kaštel. Two more had pulled down the narrow gravel roads into the vineyard. The thump of a helicopter vibrated the air around them, carrying water to dump on smoldering vines.
Blood Entangled Page 27
