Knight of the Hunted (Born Vampire Book 1)

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Knight of the Hunted (Born Vampire Book 1) Page 12

by Elizabeth Dunlap


  “Saying no would mean relocating me to the edge of town, and having his child at some point.”

  “Okay, eww again.”

  “Also kicking you out.”

  “His loss.”

  “And…” I swallowed and set my glass down on the tile floor. “He said I can’t leave. Ever.”

  Knight went silent and serious. A rare combo with him. “Lis.” I looked up at him and stared into his deep brown eyes. “If there was ever a time to break free from him, now is the time to do it.”

  My eyes started stinging in defeat. “I don’t know how. I barely knew this type of control existed, I have no idea how to get free.”

  “So you spent all your time walled up in that castle and you didn’t bother to learn anything about how your own kind work?” he snapped in irritation.

  “It’s forbidden,” I said feebly. It was the excuse I’d been saying for a long time, over a lot of different things. He looked frustrated and scrubbed a hand down his face.

  “Being informed shouldn’t be forbidden, Lis. You have to know how to combat what’s not allowed instead of just ignoring it.”

  Then I remembered who’d told me about this type of mind control in the first place. “Hunters know. Olivier would know.”

  He looked hopeful. Much more hopeful than I was. “Can you contact her?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “It’d be dangerous, for me at least. Maybe Sara could help.”

  “Already on it!” Sara shouted from the kitchen.

  We made a plan, and got to work.

  I slept with dreams of the French Revolution, and woke up to Olivier sitting at the end of my bed wearing Hunter gear. She was eyeing Knight like he'd gotten dirt on her shoes. I gasped and sat up, looking around for Arthur.

  “He's not here,” she said in a weary tone. “I'm alone. Which is good news for the dog. I think. I got your message.” Sara had left a message with Renard, who then got in touch with Olivier and told her we needed to meet with her.

  “Why isn't-”

  She put up a hand to interrupt me. “No. No time for questions. I have to be quick, though I wasted time just letting you sleep. You can't stay in this town. We're so close to catching you, if you stay still, we'll find you. And you'll be executed.”

  It pained me, but I had to tell her. “I can't.”

  “What are you talking about? Did you not hear me say EXECUTED?”

  I pulled my shirt aside to show the bite. Her face was worse than Sara's. She brought her hands to her mouth in utter horror, and then worried her fingers around the bite like a mother trying to make a skinned knee feel better. Worse still, she hugged me so tightly I could feel my chest creak. When she pulled back she had tears in her eyes, and she touched the bite again with a mournful look. Then she breathed deeply to shake it off and took my shoulders.

  “You have to fight back.”

  “I don’t know how. That’s why we contacted you.”

  She shook me a little. “Focus. You can break free. But...”

  I gave her a questioning look. “But what?”

  “It means breaking some rules. But you're already on the run, so what the hell. Let's go crazy.” She looked over at Knight on the floor, then back at me. “Are you drinking from him regularly? I can smell you on him.” I shrugged one shoulder, non-committal, almost ashamed. She leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “Was it gross?” I playfully shoved her away and thought I heard a noise coming from Knight's pillow. “Okay, business talk. Whether you drink from the dog, eww, or from a human, you need to be drinking several times per day. Four at the least.”

  “Four? The side effects-”

  She cut me off again. “I don't have much time, please don't interrupt me.” I was shocked at her manner, but it was warranted in this instance. “I know the side effects. I've lived the side effects. It has to be done. Unless you feel like being captured by us, or staying here to be this James’s lady friend until you die. Or both.”

  “Not really.”

  “Good girl.” She glanced at Knight again and reached out with one heavily buckled boot to lightly kick his leg. “You. Get up. I know you're not sleeping.” He rolled over and sat up, wide awake.

  “She can drink from me,” he affirmed, without any prompting. He locked eyes with me. That would mean helping me in a way he had only done once, and that time had been an emergency. At least we were friends now.

  “I didn't ask,” Olivier said back, even though she'd definitely not excluded his blood as a possibility a mere moment ago.

  His eyes narrowed at her. “And I wasn't offering. I'm telling.”

  Olivier's nails started to grow from where they sat on her shorts, scratching her dark brown legs slightly. With a measured sigh, she looked back at me. “I don't like your mutt.” This made Knight growl loudly and I was worried he might get a boot to the face. But, Olivier stood, her nails retracted, and she gave me another hug with a slight glance towards the bite. “Do what I said. I’ll do what I can to deter Arthur until you can break free. And when you do, keep running. Next time you see me, I hope you're not in trouble anymore.” She jumped into the windowsill, then she turned back and grinned. “Oh. I almost forgot. Your evasion methods are impeccable. If I wasn't the one hunting you, they'd be chasing their tails for a century.” Then she was gone.

  “Nice friend,” Knight commented dryly.

  “She's an acquired taste.”

  “I have a feeling it takes a few centuries to acquire that particular taste.” He stood up, popped his shoulders, and ran a hand through his long locks. “Well. Let's get this party started. Though I'll need some breakfast afterwards. Not because I need it to grow new blood, I'm just hungry enough to eat my blanket. And maybe yours too.”

  I wanted to refuse his offer. I really did. I’d seen what the extra blood did to James, and it scared me. I didn't want to lose myself, but I was almost beyond caring. I was tired of being James’s puppet. And drinking from Knight was the only way to get away.

  “I'm scared,” I told him. No use in hiding it. “You saw James. That's what happens when we drink more than once a day. We become like addicts. Except it's the power we crave. I'll become uncontrollable. And weird.”

  “I won't let that happen.”

  I stared at his face, saw the determination he was trying to convey to me, and wished that it was true. “It will happen. It doesn't matter how much you try.”

  His eyes traveled around the room in thought and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Okay. Then I'll monitor you. If I say you've had enough, then we stop. Agreed?” I nodded. As long as he could keep me in check, I could do this. He walked over to the bed and sat next to me, almost touching my arm. I could feel the warmth of his skin. The pulsing of his veins. His scent drifted to my nose and it again registered as slightly different. “Are you starting, or are we going to sit here while my stomach rumbles?”

  I got off the bed and stood in front of his legs. The most comfortable position would be in his lap, as I'm sure he noticed before, so I grabbed his shoulders and straddled him. I bit into his neck quickly, before either of us could feel uncomfortable. His arms came up to cradle me, like he'd done the last time, so many weeks ago. And I felt...warm. It was a feeling I'd never felt while feeding. And considering my age, that was a long basis for comparison.

  I drank for a long time. Normal feedings only took about two minutes. I stayed on Knight's neck until my stomach started hurting from being so full, and my stomach can hold a lot of blood. He never pulled away. As soon as I my teeth retracted, he slumped his head against my shoulder and brought his arms closer around me to hold me in place.

  “Sorry,” he said softly. “Just need something to lean against.”

  I smiled and resisted the urge to stroke his hair. “I’ve held you often enough. Now we’re even.”

  A knock at the door made us both jump.

  Chapter 20

  “BREAKFAST!” Sara shouted in a sing-song tone. I got up from Knight's lap and
he fell backwards onto the comforter. When I opened the door, Sara had a cute look on her face like we'd been up to something during the night and she knew all about it. She was pushing a cart with a large tray full of food, enough food to feed a Lycan and a vampire, and then some. “Morning guests!” She pushed past me with the cart and rolled it over to the round table by my bed. The tray looked heavy, but she did her best to try and lift it until I had to go help her. She'd literally cooked every kind of breakfast food there was, including the custard croissants I loved, and a few dishes I didn't recognize. I smelled curry. “There's plenty for both of you,” she said with a cheerful smile. “He needs to keep up his strength. I mean both of you do. Silly me. Ta ta!” She waltzed out of the room, pushing the cart and humming something off-key.

  “Well, she’s cheerful today,” Knight said with a chuckle.

  “Get over here or I'm eating everything,” I told him.

  We ate. Well, I ate. He inhaled. He let me get my own food first, and after I filled my plate, he gobbled up everything else, including whatever smelled like curry. I felt slightly bad because I'd drunk so much from him. Though, I'd seen him eat this much before when he still had all of his blood. He caught me staring at him.

  “Do you feel weird?” he inquired. I shook my head. If anything, I just felt more alert. Everything smelled crisper. I could hear better without pushing my senses out. I’d easily drunk three times more blood than I usually had every morning. “You can drink again before lunch. But you'll tell me if you start to feel different, right?” He was trying to help, but he was being a bit bossy.

  “Okay, dad.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I am not nearly old enough to be your dad, missy.” I chuckled and took another bite of the hash brown I'd been working on. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Who are your parents? Aren't they going crazy with worry?”

  “I don't know who they are,” I said simply, my fork hovering in front of me. “Balthazar knows who my mother is, not that he'll ever tell me her name. My father is a nameless mystery. I don't even think about it.”

  Knight stared at me for a minute before putting some egg in his mouth. “Yes. I can see that you don't,” he said around his food. “That's not normal, by the way.”

  “Normal-schmormal. I'm a Born vampire. I don't have to be normal.”

  He snorted and blew a few pieces of egg onto the table. “Well,” he continued after chewing and swallowing. “You're right about that.” He sipped his second glass of orange juice. “Things like that tend to fade after a while, don't they?”

  “It's not like I don't want to know who my father is,” I admitted, though I’d never said that out loud to anyone. I never talked about my parents. Not even to Olivier. “It's just something I'll never get an answer for.” He nodded like he understood. “Are other Lycans like you?” I regretted asking such a question, but I'd been wondering.

  He looked hesitant. “You mean freaky with the moon or really, really old?”

  “Immortal.”

  He almost didn't want to answer. I could see it on his face. “No. They aren't. Because I'm not like them. I was born human.”

  I almost didn't believe my ears. “You were what?”

  “I wasn't born this way,” he repeated, looking a little shy. Judging by what he'd told me that meant he was changed after the Bicus were banned from doing so.

  “The scratch marks,” I said absently as I remembered. “The ones on your chest. They're from the Succubus who changed you.” I knew that was how werewolves were made, I’d just never put the facts together. Call it unfamiliar territory.

  “Yeah. They've never gone away. I spent time with a Lycan pack at first, just to learn about being one of them, until it was clear I wasn't one of them. I've been on my own ever since. I've never...seen another man like me. Not ever.”

  “It's because the Bicus are banned from changing or impregnating humans,” I told him. “No one knows why, or those that do don't talk about it. If there were others like you, they'd be very old. Older than me.”

  This upset him greatly, though he tried to not show it. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have not a single soul that knew what it felt like to be what I am. I didn't like that mental image. And Knight was a pack animal. He'd never have a pack. Like an ant without a colony. A bee without a beehive.

  “A bee without a beehive.”

  “I am not a bee,” he said firmly. “You said that out loud.”

  My cheeks reddened so I went back to my food.

  I went to my usual feeding at James’s mansion. He didn’t mention his proposal, probably trying to respect that I hadn’t made up my mind yet. I drank from the human he provided, the extra blood only helping my cause. He wanted to talk about the merits of Napoleon, so I sat through that for over an hour.

  He finally let me go before lunch. Drake took me home, and I fed from Knight again before Sara served us stewed duck. As I breathed in the smell of the food, I noticed everything smelled better. The colors of the 1950’s kitchen were brighter, like someone had turned up the graphics setting. I could hear every part of the hotel without having to focus my ears.

  The next day came. I drank from Knight before breakfast. I drank at James’s house. When I came back, I had a lovely craving to take a walk. Knight's presence wasn't sitting well with the local populous, which was why we had been spending most of our time in the hotel before now. The humans had either never seen a Lycan, or had and didn't enjoy the memory. The vampires were no better.

  “If they keep hissing at me, I'm going to be soaked in saliva by the end of the day,” Knight complained after the fifth vampire had flashed their fangs in his direction.

  I patted his arm like I would a puppy and sighed with happiness. I was so happy. Happy, happy, happy. “Don't worry. I'll protect you from the big bad vampires.”

  He glared at me frostily. “I can't tell if that's my blood talking or if you're just always like this. Oh wait. You are.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “They say age makes you more mature, but in your case, they lied.”

  “Who said age makes you more mature?” I retorted. “I've never heard that. And I've been friends with plenty of philosophers.”

  “Like who, Friedrich Nietzsche?”

  This time I glared. “Galileo, smarty pants.”

  He actually looked surprised. “Really? Wow. That's cool. I mean, I've known a few influential people too, but Galileo? What was he like?”

  “And that is the question everyone asks me about everyone. What was Tolkien like? Was Jane Austen cool? Did the pilgrims like music?”

  He was trying not to laugh. “Did they?”

  I shrugged and smiled. “I didn't know the pilgrims. The one person who asked me that, I lied and said no.” He’d gone on to create an entire religion based around that fact, but let’s not drudge up the past.

  Knight was still on the topic of famous friends. “Knowing someone who became famous isn't a frame of reference. You just knew them as a friend. You didn't know them as their public image,” he said.

  “You sound rather knowledgeable,” I told him, surprised he understood something I’d felt for a long time. So many well-known people I’d called friend. And they were all dead now. Well, most of them. “Who'd you know?”

  “I fought in the civil war, remember? I knew a lot of the officers. I met President Lincoln once. He smelled like shoe polish.”

  “What side did you fight on?” I'd already guessed, but I wanted to ask.

  He smirked slightly. “Let's not go there.” We stopped at a hot dog stand to get some lunch. The owner, a young human, took one look at Knight and started to scowl.

  “Sorry,” he said curtly. “I don't want your business.” Knight's face fell for a second before it went blank.

  “Why not? We haven't done anything,” I told the man. I was James’s main squeeze. All the humans should be doing whatever I wanted.

  “My best friend is a vampire,” the man said. “Lycans killed her bro
ther. James told everyone that this guy is a Lycan too. We don't want his kind around here.”

  I stared at the prejudice hot dog vendor, my mouth curled down and my good mood gone, until he looked me in the eye. “Please. We just want some hot dogs. We won't bother you anymore if you just give us some food.”

  To my surprise, he blinked, reached down, and handed me four hot dogs that were already prepared in a paper carton. Knight grabbed my elbow and tugged me away before the vendor could start complaining again.

  “What just happened?” Knight asked when we'd turned the corner.

  I knew exactly what had happened. I’d controlled the human. And I liked it.

  Chapter 21

  Knight wasn't happy. I handed him three of the hot dogs, which he wolfed down, and I ate the other one while we walked.

  I'd controlled someone's mind. It was a first for me. I wasn’t sure what to think of it. On one hand, being controlled was horrid. Even in my current state I remembered how it felt, though I had a hard time feeling sad about it. But on the other hand, I liked it. That hot dog man had been rude to my friend and I’d made him do what I wanted. That was a win in my book.

  I realized I'd stopped walking and Knight was standing in front of me, licking the mustard off his fingers. I glanced up at him, feeling only a tiny sliver of guilt. I didn’t regret what I’d done. But I didn’t want Knight to be mad at me.

  “Eat your hot dog,” was all he said.

  I was still scared I’d made Knight mad. Luckily, another drink from Knight before lunch took care of that for me. I no longer felt upset about what had happened, and I didn’t care what Knight thought.

  We went downstairs to the kitchen and Sara was there wearing green coveralls, her pink tipped hair in two little buns.

  “I'm about to start some falafels!” she said brightly, holding up a bowl of chickpea batter. I groaned and wished she would order pizza. Before, I’d found her odd taste in food quite charming. Now I just wanted her to stop being weird. Her face changed and she put the bowl back into the fridge. “On second thought, let's just order some pizza.”

 

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