Blood Bargain

by Maria Lima

  "It's not that easy.” Niko's voice was soft. He raised his head and looked directly into my eyes, his own blue eyes dull, their usual sparkle missing. “At this stage, he might not have been able to stop."

  It didn't take me long to catch that particular clue.

  "Fuck."

  "Ditto.” My brother's frown echoed my own.

  This was not good news. It wasn't even not-bad news. This was worse than I'd imagined. Damn Adam's skewed sense of honor, anyway. If he'd started hunting with the other vampires, or allowed himself to feed a little from me regularly, this wouldn't be happening. At least, I thought so. I wasn't the vampire expert around here. I asked Niko.

  He nodded, a slow movement, as if he were reluctant to agree. “Yes, possibly,” he said, his words deliberate as if he were considering the answer. “Hunting seems to have revived everyone else. I think it would have helped Adam. In fact, I thought it was."

  "Was what? How? He wasn't hunting.” Now I was confused.

  "Okay, look, this looks to be a bit of a tale. Why don't we all go upstairs? This is a little ... creepy."

  I barked out a laugh. Creepy? I stood there with a bloodsucking vampire and a hellhound. This wasn't exactly smack in the middle of normal.

  "I mean...” Niko looked over at Adam. “It bothers me seeing him like that.” That, I could agree, was an understatement.

  Minutes later, the three of us sat in Adam's living room. Me on one of the overstuffed chairs, the two men side by side on the couch. Niko sat forward, his arms on his thighs, head bowed a little. Tucker tried for a more relaxed posture but failed. I could see the tension in his shoulders, in the slight grimace on his face.

  "I'm not exactly sure where to start,” Niko said. “It's complicated."

  "How about the highlights?” I really wasn't being facetious or flip. I wanted as much information in as short a time as possible. The more I knew, the easier it would be to help Adam.

  "You know that Adam made me, right? You know my story?"

  "Some of it,” I said. “He found you in the streets, dying, turned you and saved you."

  Niko let out a soft sigh, his shoulders tensing a little. Tucker put a hand on the other man's back, not moving it, a steady weight signifying his support. Niko's mouth turned up at the corners and he gave Tucker a look I recognized, yet had never seen on the vampire's face before: tenderness and gratitude. His usual arrogance had vanished, replaced by a quiet vulnerability.

  "I was a whore,” Niko said, his blunt tone allowing for no sympathy. “I never knew any family. The streets were home. Not even sure how old I was when...” His voice trailed off, then he continued. “I spent years doing nothing more than existing, trying to stay alive. I did well, actually. There were women, men, sometimes both at once, who liked pretty young boys. I was even good at self-defense, in case any of them got too rough. But there was one thing I couldn't stop."

  He looked me in the eye, catching my gaze and holding it. The glitter was back, except now it wasn't the twinkle of amusement, this was the shine of something darker, something once buried and almost forgotten. It wasn't pretty.

  "My then patron was a lesser noble who kept lodgings in London. When he was in residence, I slept in his bed. When he was following the court, I slept in the barn with the stable boys, the cats and the fleas. I had a bit of a nicer pallet than the others, but I knew my place. My patron threw me back out on the streets the moment the first bubo appeared. It was nearing winter."

  A thin smile crossed Niko's face, his eyes narrowing, gaze losing focus a little as if lost in remembering. “Dudley's wife was still living then and he had not yet taken up with the Queen.” Niko blinked and looked at me. “That's how we marked time then, you see. I had no idea of the actual year."

  I nodded, acknowledging everything he wasn't saying. Despite his youthful looks—he looked to be no more than twenty—there were many years behind this man. Years, experiences I hadn't known. Okay, well, fine. Used to that. Age didn't faze me.

  Niko's voice grew even quieter. “A few days later, the one lump became many. I was in the alley behind a public house when I fell into the slime of the gutter. I don't know how long I was there. All I know is that sometime later, I woke up, ravenous, disoriented, in a fancy bed in a stranger's bedroom. I wasn't alive anymore, but was more alive than I'd ever been when my heart beat. He never hurt me. He was the one person I cared about for a long time."

  Niko rubbed his hands across his face and fell silent.

  The soft chirping of the crickets outside was the sole noise in the house other than the exhalations from Tucker and me. Niko didn't need to cross any Ts at this point. I got the picture he'd painted with such few words.

  "Nikolai...” I began.

  He straightened, despair gone from his posture, a bit of his old arrogance back. “Yes?"

  "He calls you ‘Niko', and ‘Nikolai'. You're English then? That's not an English name."

  He shrugged. “It's one of my names. One he ... I like."

  "I'd wondered,” I said softly. “You didn't strike me as being very Romanian. I wondered about that last year...” I didn't have to finish.

  "The Gypsy village. Yes.” Niko stood and walked over to a window across from where we were seated. The blinds were drawn, so I knew he wasn't looking out. I figured he was looking back.

  "I took the name when we settled in Romania—much later. It was easier to seem more local, even though I didn't really look it.” He shrugged. “Peasants and villagers rarely ask questions."

  "Were you still together when he met me in London?” As lovers, I meant.

  "No. Not consistently. Occasionally. We'd both moved on. He gained power and prestige. I became his lieutenant, or whatever. By the time we moved back to London, so many things had changed. So had we."

  Niko looked at me with a curious expression, as if waiting for something—a reaction, perhaps?

  At this point in my life, I more or less did the serial monogamy bit—at least up to now and in the three major relationships I'd had in my short life. I wasn't opposed to other arrangements should the subject ever come up. So far, it hadn't. Besides, how could I be jealous of something that happened before I was born?

  "Either way, it's not important,” Niko continued. “What is, is the fact that because Adam made me, he can often use me for energy. He can do that with most of his kin. Me, the others."

  "Come again?” I was thinking the word “vampire” all of a sudden took on a whole new connotation. Feed from his minions? This was news.

  "He's the king. For us, it's not simply a title. He has ties to all of us ... actual blood ties. When each of us swears blood oath, it's exactly that. Adam takes a sip of our blood, we taste his. It creates a tie that can't be broken unless both parties agree. Then once a year, he'd take the annual tribute, a reprise of the original blood oath. In older days, he'd have been offered tastes from the young men and women of the village. He never did that when I knew him. I don't really think that part was necessary. Blood from us, though, is more than symbolic. Because of this, he's able to feed from us at a distance, maintaining his strength, his power as king."

  I nodded at this. It made sense. Human kings of old did this all the time. My clan was no different, collecting our own version of tribute, be it money, services, goods. Nowadays, it was more symbolic than actual—a coin, some fancy baked goods, etc.—a token gesture of fealty.

  Hell, my mother's people's history wasn't much different either, except their case was more akin to the vampire's. Stories of changeling children and young men or women being taken by the faery folk were often more than stories. It wasn't unusual for the Sidhe to demand tribute from the local populace. I didn't know what they did nowadays.

  Niko's story was the vampire version—a sort of cross between tribute and a marriage bond—somewhat more of the latter, since feeding directly from another person was more about sex than blood. I got that. A tribute, in whatever way, was an integral part of the king-subject
relationship.

  "Wait a minute. You said ‘take'—past tense. He stopped?"

  Niko turned from the window and came back to the couch, allowing himself to fall heavily into the plush cushions, his usual grace abandoned.

  "This happened long ago. Shortly after...” He didn't finish the sentence. No matter, I knew what he was going to say.

  My brother said it for us.

  "The camps."

  Niko nodded. “It was something else Adam said he couldn't do. He told me one night, after he'd made the decision. I was arguing with him. He said he'd seen the destruction of the Nazis, what they took in ‘tribute'—looting, lives, women. It was all too much. It sickened him—sickened all of us. He couldn't allow himself to even remotely be associated with that kind of behavior."

  "And now—this has contributed to his weakness?"

  "I don't know.” Tucker moved closer to Niko as the vampire bowed his head once again. “I wish I had answers. I don't."

  "How long has Adam not fed from living blood?” My brother's question was as blunt as his caress of Niko's neck was tender. I knew he cared for Niko—despite that, Tucker was my kin, clan ... my blood, my family. His primary focus was going to be me and my concerns.

  "I'm not sure,” Niko said. “Other than his ... emergency feeding from you at the quarry ... Adam stopped hunting, stopped feeding from us or from humans shortly after the concentration camp, but still drank animal blood as needed. It wasn't until—” He stopped suddenly, his gaze flickering over to me then away. He pressed his lips together against the words he obviously wasn't willing to say out loud.

  Freaking hell. I was most definitely aboard this clue bus and I wanted off right now. I did not want this to be happening.

  "He stopped drinking live animal blood because of me.” The words came out of my mouth with no more emotion than if I'd been reading the back of a cereal box. Nine essential vitamins with every bowl. Except Adam hadn't been getting whatever was essential for his health and unlife ... because of me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Niko nodded, not meeting my gaze. “I'm sorry. I didn't plan to tell you. I know he never wanted to let you know."

  "Fuck, Niko, why the hell did he do something so incredibly stupid?” My steps took me to the other side of the room and then back. I didn't even remember standing up. “Shit, shit, shit."

  "Calm down, sis.” Tucker crossed the room and took my arms in his large hands, effectively stopping me dead in my tracks. “Adam is a grown man. I'm sure he had his reasons."

  "Yeah, reasons that make absolutely no sense and are obviously killing him. He's in a fucking coma, Tucker, or had you forgotten?” Tucker winced at the fury of my words. I wasn't moving away, wasn't struggling against his hold, but my body was shaking with the rage blowing through me.

  "This is not fucking fair.” I was nearly shouting at my brother. “I can't do this again, Tucker. Not again. Gideon used me, abused my trust, blamed me when he got in over his own damned head. Now I have a stubborn vampire who decides—without consulting me—that I can't handle him drinking blood, so he quits doing it? What the hell is this, anorexia by stupidity? Now he's dying and it's all because of me. I will not be a party to this, I can't. I just can't."

  "Shh, m'eudail, quiet.” Tucker's hands moved up and down my arms, a brother's attempt to calm me, to stop my infernal mea culpas. “It's not your fault. No worries. We'll call Isabel. She'll come."

  I shook off his touch and moved away, not wanting to see his face, see the concern.

  "Fine, whatever, not my fault. But no matter what, I'm still the catalyst. Damn it, what if we can't get in touch with Isabel? Even if we do, what if there's nothing she can do? Then what? I let him die?” I whirled around and stared at my brother who was standing next to Niko, who was still seated on the couch, no doubt reluctant to join in. I know I probably looked as if I was accusing Tucker, accusing Niko, but what I really wanted to do was to go right back downstairs and shake some sense into a comatose vampire king who'd made a life-altering decision without consulting me—without even fucking knowing me. There was so much wrong there I didn't know where the hell to begin.

  "I don't know, Keira,” Tucker answered. “All we can do is try."

  "Who's Isabel?” Niko interrupted.

  "Our aunt. A healer. She's on walkabout,” Tucker explained.

  "Will she know anything about vampires?"

  "I don't know, a ron.” Tucker's left hand dropped onto the top of Niko's head, lightly caressing the other man's hair, displaying a softness I didn't knew he had in him. At least, not towards his lover-of-the-moment. I'd heard Tucker use endearments like this to family, usually to young ones or sometimes to me whenever he felt unusually big-brotherly. I'd never heard him be more than casually respectful or humorous to his lovers. This was most definitely new behavior. I shelved these thoughts for now. I'd be talking to Tucker privately—later. When we had time to talk about other things—if we had time.

  "Isabel's gifted,” I explained to Niko. “She's more than a physical healer. She's about as holistic as you can get. A touch telepath and empath, mostly, with talent for healing. I'm not sure exactly what she does or how she does it. I don't even know if there's anything she can do for Adam, but it wouldn't hurt. We need the big guns here and she's it. Unfortunately, we've been trying to contact her ... on another matter..."

  "But you haven't been able to reach her?” The vampire stood and joined us. He started to speak, hesitated, then straightened a little and looked directly at me, probably for the first time since we'd first met. “Look, Keira, I'm sorry, I know you and I got off to a bad start. I admit I was a bit jealous. Adam changed a great deal after he met you. Not about the blood ... everything else. Buying this ranch, deciding to come to Texas of all places. I wasn't sure it was a good idea."

  "I don't suppose it was.” I wasn't being fair and I knew it, but couldn't help letting my feelings show in my tone of voice. This wasn't a burden I wanted to carry. Who the hell had appointed me bearer of this stake-shaped cross? It was enough that I had to deal with being a family freak, being the cause of Adam's demise was not on my menu.

  "Keira.” I heard the warning in Tucker's tone. He knew I was acting like a child. Yeah, well, I was. So there.

  "Yeah, okay, fine, sure. You were saying?” I met Niko's gaze and crossed my arms, going into defense posture mode. I stopped short of stomping my foot.

  Niko shrugged. “I didn't like what Adam was doing and I blamed you. I apologize."

  "Okay...” I wasn't sure what he was trying to say.

  "Look, to help Adam, I think we all need to work together. I'm willing to bury the hatchet, as it were.” He didn't hold out a hand to shake, casual touch wasn't part of the vampire etiquette. It wasn't with us either. He stood still, his hands clasped behind him, a semi-formal pose.

  I studied his expression, trying to figure out if he was sincere. I couldn't tell much. No guile, no twitchiness ... but how well can a vampire hide his true feelings? Probably extremely well, considering his age. If Dudley's wife wasn't yet dead when Niko was turned, that would put him around the four and a half century mark. People learned a lot over time, vampires or not.

  "All right. I'll deal with this,” I said, letting my arms relax a little, loosening my posture. I could cut Niko a break. Being obnoxious wouldn't help Adam. “What next?"

  "What?” Niko looked startled.

  "I get it, you're right. What do we do next?” I smiled a little, showing that I could as easily extend the hand of friendship. I didn't think he expected me to agree so easily. No doubt my dear brother had talked about my stubborn streak.

  "Well, that's it ... I...” Niko looked at Tucker, then back at me. “Thing is, I'm not sure."

  "Not sure?” My voice started to rise again. “Then what the f—"

  "Keira, enough. We need to combine forces and figure out what we need to do.” Twelve hundred years or so of sanity and practicality spoke up. That is, my brother, the
semi-sane one, actually decided to say something more or less logical, practical and to the point. Well, okay, semi-sane and not exactly twelve hundred years. The first couple of hundred he spent more in the “kill, kill, blood makes the grass grow” mode—all that Viking berserker type stuff. He got over it. Mostly.

  "Niko, how long will Adam stay stable?” Niko looked at Tucker with something like surprise in his face. I think my own expression was damned close. “That is, assuming he is stable,” Tucker amended. “He is, isn't he?"

  Niko looked at each of us, his brow furrowed as if not knowing what to say or how to take this.

  "Yes.” He spoke deliberately. “As stable as he'll get."

  "And that means?” I asked.

  "Adam will likely remain like that for a while,” Niko explained. “In the coma, he can't deteriorate."

  "But he can't heal, either, can he?"

  Niko shook his head, his hair masking his expression. “No,” he whispered. “He can't heal."

  "Can we leave him there long enough to wait for Isabel?” Tucker asked.

  "I think ... I hope so.” Niko looked at us again, his eyes glittering. I couldn't tell if those were tears lurking. “I know about this academically,” he said. “We've spoken about it. We learn that we can do this if gravely injured ... put ourselves into a kind of stasis."

  "Gravely injured?” Okay, so I was curious.

  "We fought in many of your wars, too, Keira."

  "Not ours, actually.” My brother smiled a little at his own comment. “But I get the picture."

  So did I. Like my own family, the vampires sometimes became a part of the human world—a necessary evil.

  "And what happens then? How long can he stay there and what can we do to get him out?"

  "That's the problem,” Niko said. “Normally, we heal the injured by moving them to a safe place and then giving them living blood ... usually from a donor."

  "How much blood?"

  Niko turned abruptly and walked away from our immediate vicinity. He seemed a little too interested in the window and not in answering my question. He didn't have to answer, because I already knew what he was going to say. His silence confirmed it. By the same token, I didn't really have to repeat my question, but I did. I wanted the words. I wanted to know exactly what we were up against.