Book Read Free

Bitten by the Vampire

Page 7

by Bonnie Vanak


  “It’s my world, Mara, a world far from the dangers of yours.”

  “Your world scares me, Lucien. How do you live here, alone, except for that green bundle of teenage hormones you call a gremlin? It’s so lonely here, so quiet.” She shivered.

  “Sometimes it’s best to retreat from the world awhile.”

  “Maybe you enjoy isolation, but I don’t. I need people around me, I need the thumping pulse of the city, the warmth of people surrounding me.” She drew in a breath, struggling with her rising temper. “I want to go home, Lucien. Please, let me go! There is nothing more for me here.”

  Not with you standing there like a cold marble statue. How could a man so passionate in bed become so distant out of it?

  A heartbeat of silence descended. Mara watched his rigid shoulders. Guilt filled her, but she pushed it aside.

  “You wish to leave…me.” He spoke over his shoulder, his voice tight.

  Emotions knotted her stomach. Mara struggled for a response when he turned. Lucien’s expression was blank, his feelings firmly in check. A vampire as cool as the air brushing against the frosty glass pane.

  A vampire guarding his heart, never allowing her inside him. He’d tunneled into her emotions and yanked away her powers. Tall and powerful, he looked as elegant and refined as the furnishings. Mara decided to gamble. She took a deep breath.

  “I won’t stay with someone who can’t care for me,” she finally told him.

  He seemed rigid as rock. Mara waited, hoping. Maybe there could be something between them. Finally he nodded.

  “It’s wrong to hold someone against her will. You must be free to live your own life, make your own decisions.”

  Damn it, he sounded as indifferent as a college textbook. She wanted to shake him up, make his teeth rattle. Anything to get emotion out of him.

  “Yup, free to live my life. Unlike you, who’s holed himself up here like a hibernating bear. I’m not afraid of facing life, Lucien. Not like you are.”

  The velvet glove was off, the first struck hard. But her taunt did not work. The taut edges of his profile showed.

  “If that is your dearest wish, I will let you leave. After Jones is arrested. Soon, he will be apprehended by the human authorities. An anonymous tip by a good citizen about a psychopath stalking college students.”

  “You did this?”

  He shrugged. “For you, yes. It was worth bending the rules of noninterference.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “It means a lot to me. You do care, don’t you, Lucien?”

  Emotion shadowed his eyes. Then his gaze shuttered.

  He was shutting himself away again.

  Revenge suddenly tasted like ashes. Would having her enemy’s head on a platter fill her heart? Make her feel the way Lucien did when he took her into his arms and made her forget the world?

  But she could never have his heart. And if revenge was the only thing filling the emptiness, then damn it, she was holding on with both hands.

  Mara bent her head to hide the tears misting her eyes.

  “I have work. I will be in my study. Eat. You should replenish your strength.” Lucien turned and strode off. The spicy fragrance of his cologne and his masculine scent whispered past her.

  She nibbled at the delicious chicken and pasta he’d prepared. Her powers were returning, along with the ever present confusion. Her heart pined to stay with Lucien.

  Her head argued it would never work. Lucien couldn’t love her.

  Having finished her meal, she stopped at the opened door of his paneled study. Lucien sat before a massive mahogany desk overlooking the vista of snow-covered meadows. Fountain pen in hand, he signed documents. His back went rigid as she hovered.

  “Come in, Mara.”

  “I just wanted to tell you I’m going for a short walk. Maybe stop by Petra’s digs and hang with her. Literally, you know, play Batgirl.”

  Please, say something. Open yourself to me and tell me you care. Even just laugh at my dumb joke.

  But he only gave a brusque nod and bent over the papers again.

  Deeply hurt, she started down the hallway. Pain compressed her chest. Lucien only saw her as an assignment. What a good solider he was, fighting evil for the Society, as indifferent as a machine with fangs.

  Biting cold stung her cheeks as she walked outside. Wind fluttered the lapels of her jacket as she clutched them to her throat. Cold, like Lucien. No wonder he lived here.

  Mara walked around the house, towards the garage. Smoke stung her nostrils. Then she saw it.

  Her nightmare had come to life. Black smoke curled upward, licking the air as orange flames danced through the garage window.

  Petra was inside.

  She was going to die.

  Fear immobilized her. She remembered the hot orange flames licking in the furnace as Jones dragged her forward. The terror as heat singed her skin, the screams ripping from her hoarse throat and the knowledge no one would hear and answer.

  She could not move. Could not draw near. Rushing into a burning building was for heroes and firefighters. Not her. And then she felt her skin grow hot and pain slide over her body.

  Lucien materialized before the garage window. “Petra,” he screamed. “Mara!”

  Then he vanished. Mara blinked, stricken. He thought she was inside.

  Moving toward the side of the garage, she saw a dark shadow hover near the building, a can swinging from his hands. Suspicions grew, and sharpened.

  Jones. He’d found her.

  The heat licked her body, the memories licked her soul. Fear fisted in her stomach. He’d come to kill her and instead hurt the wrong person.

  The side door banged open. Lucien rushed out, a coughing Petra in his strong arms. He gently set her down and vanished again. Mara ran to Petra.

  “Lucien’s inside,” the gremlin gasped. “Looking for you!” The action screamed louder than any declarations he could have made. Lucien’s courage fed her strength. She tried touching his mind, screaming his name. Nothing.

  “I have to go after him.” Mara fisted her hands, summoned all her courage.

  Opening the door she ran into the garage, screaming his name.

  The single-room building was filled with perches, much like those in a bird cage. On the far wall, flames took hold, igniting the bed and bookshelves. Mara coughed, wildly trying to see through the thick smoke. She gasped his name once more.

  And then suddenly, he was at her side. Hugging her, holding her. “Mara,” he said, and coughed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  But as they turned, fire engulfed the doorway. Through the window, she saw Dennis Jones, laughing as he tossed something onto the building.

  The sharp stench of gasoline wended through smoke and flames. They were cut off.

  No way out. Except for Lucien. He could dematerialize and escape. But he couldn’t take her. He’d already told her he could not.

  Pain pricked her heart. So this was death. It was peaceful, yet sad and still, because it removed her from the man she loved. The realization was like a knife lancing her heart.

  I love you, Lucien. I always will. I’m sorry I can’t stay….

  “Go,” she gasped. “Jones did this. He’s outside. You can escape. Please…save yourself. Just do me a favor, and kick his ass.”

  Maybe she was meant to die in a fire after all. Tears gushed from her eyes.

  “Never without you, he said fiercely.

  Lucien pulled her down to the ground, then into his sheltering arms as if to protect her from the flames. Shielding her body with his. Mara buried her head into his broad chest.

  “I’m so scared.”

  “Don’t think about it, sweetheart. Hold me, just hold me. If I’m to die tonight, then damn me to the fires of hell. I’d rather burn there and hold you one last time than spend a lifetime without you.”

  “Lucien, he’s winning. Jones always wins. You said he can’t be touched. I hate him. I hate him!”

  Blackn
ess consumed her. Talons emerged from her fingernails. The demon had not been absorbed by Lucien after all. Remnants still lingered deep inside her.

  Tenderly, he cupped her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Let go of the hate, Mara. Let go of the thoughts of revenge. Focus on the white light. Let it vanquish the flames.”

  Mara squeezed her eyes shut and reached for her angelic side. But as her skin heated, she found it impossible to focus. “I can’t!”

  “Think Mara. When you were being dragged to the furnace, terrified and seeing your death before you, what brought out the white light?”

  Thoughts whirled in her mind like a sinister vortex. Then, shining through the bleakness and despair came a single pure thought.

  “My mother. She loved me so much. I thought about her.” Mara coughed violently. “But she’s dead! I can’t stop thinking about Jones and how much I hate him! It’s the only thing I have left!”

  “No, it’s not. You have me. I love you.”

  Eyes watering, she looked up at him in shock.

  Lucien’s fingers caressed her skin. “I was too scared to admit it, even to myself. I didn’t want to lose you and now, there’s nothing left to lose. Look at me, Mara. Focus on my love for you. Look at me, my love. Concentrate on me. Feel our connection and what we share.”

  Her eyes closed. With all her might, she focused, and suddenly the blood link they shared surged like an electrical current. Mara saw deep into Lucien’s soul, seeing not the previous blackness and emptiness, but a soothing peace he now savored, all because of her.

  “If I lose you, I lose myself,” he whispered. “You are my life. Let the white light shine. Surrender to it.”

  Then his voice deepened, became a whiplash of command. “Live Mara. Let go, and live.”

  White light hummed and sang inside her. It burst out of her fingertips, radiating from her body. Tendrils of it misted the air, then with all her might she hurled it toward the flames. Into the heat it raced, cooling the fire, dousing it like a torrential downpour, creating a vortex that suctioned away the deadly smoke and heat. It suctioned the smoke from her lungs and spiraled into Lucien, drawing out the smoke from his.

  The vortex spun faster and faster, inhaling the fire like a hungry mouth, and then with a glimmer of sparks, it was gone.

  Blackened embers and ashes scorched the room. Lucien’s face was covered in smoke, his dark eyes moist. He framed her face tenderly with his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her swollen lips.

  Mara’s heart raced. “Petra! She’s outside with Jones.”

  They raced out of the garage and ground to a halt.

  In her human form, Petra lay on the ground, her eyes wide with terror. Over her, Jones hovered, holding a knife to her throat.

  “Stop. Don’t come any closer, or I’ll cut her throat.”

  Chapter 12

  Mara watched in horror as Jones pressed the blade closer to the gremlin’s throat. Lucien’s eyes blazed with fury.

  “She’ll die slow and painfully, unless you volunteer to replace her.” Jones’s face became an ugly mask. “You’re much greater a prize, Mara.”

  Petra’s frantic gaze sought hers. She was just a kid, who would die if Mara didn’t take her place.

  “I’m going to rip you to shreds for this.” Lucien quivered with rage, but did not move. A snarl tore from his throat.

  Jones was a raving lunatic. Mara held out her hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m not evil. Why have you hunted and stalked me? I never harmed anyone. All I wanted was a normal life. An ordinary college student, living like anyone else. Please, let her go.”

  Red suffused Jones’s face. “You could never be normal!”

  Stunned, she stared as lowered the knife from Petra’s throat. Her demon half noticed. Stunned, she felt white light and dark meld together.

  “I knew you from the Society’s records. I’ve kept track. All the time you remained in seclusion, I waited. Watched. I knew as soon as you tried to enter society, you would endanger the populace. You are the spawn of the devil.”

  Horrified, she dropped her hands. In her quest for a normal life, she had condemned herself. And this lunatic knew it, waited for the time when she’d emerge. “The Society is supposed to protect paranormal beings!”

  “I’m not associated with them and my mission is to free the human race of those like you. You’re a deviant, conceived in a sinful mating.” He gestured with the knife to Petra. “Like her.”

  “She’s a gremlin!”

  “Petra was whelped from a vampire, and a gremlin father. Evil.”

  “No Jones. You are the evil one.” Lucien’s quiet, controlled voice was steady as a rock, while she shook inside. How could he remain so calm, she wondered.

  “You say that only because Petra’s your niece,” Jones snapped.

  “Lucien? Petra’s your niece?” she whispered.

  He made no response, but a muscle jumped in his neck, betraying his fury.

  It made sense now. The way he protected her, spoiled her. Feared for Petra when he feared nothing. “You didn’t tell me. Why? Because you didn’t trust me?”

  “I was going to tell you, Mara. Tell you everything. I do trust you.” Lucien fisted his hands and she saw how badly they shook. “I did not trust my own rage at Jones.”

  He drew a deep breath. “My sister fell in love with a gremlin, an illegal mating. She and my brother-in-law died when Petra was a baby and made me her guardian. The Society warned of dire consequences if Petra misbehaved. One night I forgot to lock her in her room while I was with my lover. Petra escaped and bit a neighbor and his wife, nearly exposing our kind to the human world. The Society put a bounty on her head. She was four years old.”

  His jaw was stone, his eyes dark ice. “They agreed to lift it if I joined their force of soldiers. My assignment was to kill a Darklighter.”

  Mara’s heart hammered in her chest. “The Darklighter, the woman you told me about, the one they ordered you to destroy.”

  Anger glimmered in his eyes. “The woman the Society’s advisor ordered destroyed. One Dennis Jones.”

  “He’s human!”

  “And a powerful psychic. Jones drew the attention of the Society through his work with various police departments. The Society hired him to find a rogue werewolf evading their best trackers. He found the rogue in time to save a family’s life. They decided to hire him permanently and sealed his lips against telling the truth about our world. In return, they cast a mirror spell to protect him. If anyone tried hurting him, the pain would come back to them in double.”

  Lucien’s expression darkened. “But he had his own agenda and his own view of what was evil. He framed a Darklighter and accused her of killing humans.” His voice broke. “Cornelia. My lover.”

  Like pieces of a mosaic, the picture formed. Bile rose in her throat.

  Jones bristled. “She deserved to die. I knew she was evil, because all Darklighters have a demon within them. I ordered her destruction. He refused, even after seeing evidence she had killed.”

  “You set her up,” Lucien said tightly. “The bloody shirt in her house, the bodies…all from a human serial killer. Not her. Cornelia never hurt anyone.”

  “I had to force your hand.” Jones looked surprised. “You were too blind to see what I did. I gave you a choice. Kill Cornelia or the hunters would rip Petra to shreds. You made the right choice, Lucien, just as I knew you would.”

  Pain rippled over Mara in waves of hot anguish. Lucien’s pain. He had killed his lover, thinking she was evil, to save his niece. No wonder he refused to open his heart to Mara. Because it had already been shattered with that terrible choice he’d been forced to make.

  “It wasn’t until the real killer confessed to authorities that I realized I’d been duped. I beat Jones bloody. I should have broken his neck, but couldn’t without killing myself as well. I couldn’t leave Petra alone and unprotected.”

  “I can’t believe you got away with this!” Infuriated, she
glared at the psychic.

  “All they could do was mark him as a warning to others. The mark was invisible to humans. Jones disguised it to capture you, pretending it was a head wound,” Lucien told her.

  Mara felt Lucien’s frustrated rage in their shared blood link. He longed to dispatch Jones so the human would never again hurt another. Yet this powerful Ancient could not touch the man. She marveled at Lucien’s control. For years, he’d reined in his own temper and desire for revenge. Now she understood what the vampire meant when he’d told her to find balance. Because he’d been forced to quell his own burning need for justice.

  “I’m going to tear your throat out,” Lucien growled.

  “No Lucien,” Mara cried out. “The rules. You can’t kill him without killing yourself.”

  “Fuck the rules.” Lucien started forward, fangs descending in a virulent hiss.

  Grabbing his arm, she hung on, trying to draw him back. It was like trying to stop a wave from crashing ashore. “There has to be another way, there has to be.”

  And then Lucien stopped. He glanced at her with a slight smile.

  “Yes. There is.”

  Lucien had wanted to kill Dennis Jones for 48 long years. And each year that had passed, he learned to live with himself, with the guilt over killing Cornelia, and following an archaic set of rules no longer holding him fast.

  Jones smiled slowly. He gestured with the knife. “Can’t touch me, vampire. I know the rules. I helped dictate them.”

  Cruelty twisted the man’s prune-like face. Jones cackled as the knife hovered near Petra. Lucien studied his enemy with calm detachment.

  I’m forbidden from hurting you.

  But I’m not forbidden from you hurting yourself….

  Lucien felt his powers surge. “This is for Cornelia. And for Petra, and Mara. And for all the innocents you wanted to hurt.”

  The physic blanched. “You can’t hurt me.”

  “I’m not the one who will hurt you.”

  Into the man’s mind Lucien tunneled, culling out all Jones’s sick thoughts. He spun these into a vortex, encasing them in a house of mirrors so the man had no choice—he had to look deep inside himself.

 

‹ Prev