“I have lost patience with you, Breena Cross. I will kill you before I finish your sister.”
Fangs extended, he lunged. Instinctively, she threw her good arm in front of her face, palm up. Atian’s fangs pierced Breena’s skin, which instantly shot a stream of bright blue light outward.
His huge body contorted and flopped like a fish–more like a shark–out of water.
She could hardly believe it. Her glowing blue palm was a supernatural light socket. Had her witch-half actually come to her rescue when she’d needed it to?
Everyone froze like statues cemented to the floor. No one breathed. Her attacker lay on the floor, unmoving. She didn’t know what to expect.
Seconds ticked by, each breath full of hope and fear.
Then, rising like a phoenix from its ashes, Atian gathered himself off the floor in one graceful movement. She held her breath. He might still kill her. He might kill them all.
Breena swallowed dry air. She waited for his next strike.
“I would offer you my blood, however, I do not wish to form a bond with you yet,” Atian said with a cool voice and devilish smile. “You win this round, Breena Cross. I look forward to our next encounter.”
Before she could even think to lower her arm, the bats swooped down and spun out the front door in a tornado of black rodent fur. The three vampires vanished.
This changed things. Atian may have been following Victor’s orders when he walked through Mackie-High Funeral Home’s front door but he’d definitely had his own agenda when he’d breezed back out.
He had tasted her blood and, no matter what she did, her life would never be the same again.
Breena sucked down a raspy breath, listened as it rattled around inside her lungs, and heaved it out with a choking cough that sounded as though it were her last. Next thing she knew, Jenny, Myles and Orin hovered above her wearing the same expression. The taste of iron scraped down her throat and her body wrenched. The room grew smaller as the light faded.
Finally, silence filled the vacuum-sealed bubble around her, and the familiar arms of darkness pulled Breena into their embrace.
Chapter 29
Myles knew exactly what he’d done, and he dreaded calling the president to tell her. Stepping out the back exit of Granite Drug, he walked over to his Camaro and sat inside while he dialed the number.
This time Lucinda herself picked up. “Tell me it’s not true.”
“She would’ve died if I hadn’t.”
“You’ve given her your blood three times, and taken hers twice.”
“Yes,” he said, even though she hadn’t actually asked.
The president’s tone was difficult to read. Maybe angry. Maybe pleased. It was hard to tell with her. “Does Breena know?”
“Not yet, but she will soon enough.”
“How soon?”
Myles tugged his fingers through his hair. “A day or two. Maybe sooner.”
“You still have a job to do, even after your sentence is fulfilled. Will the bond affect your work?”
“No,” he lied.
It already did affect his work. His heart. His mind. His life. He loved Breena completely, with a fire so hot it could never be extinguished. Even now that he knew there was a part of her that didn’t belong to him. That might never belong to him. But he wouldn’t give up hope. She lived. What else really mattered?
“Good. Make certain it doesn’t.”
“I will.”
“Is everything taken care of with the foster-mother situation?”
Myles tapped the steering wheel and smiled. He’d taken care of it all right. Breena was free. Mostly. “Yes.”
“Continue your regular check-ins. I’ll be in touch when I’m ready.” The president disconnected.
Myles had a lot to think about. Not only did he have to keep his love for Breena a secret from the president, but he had to shield her from his master–and how he’d protect her without drinking her blood a third time and making her his, he had no idea. But the thing that really wrenched his pill-driven heart was the fact that his sentence would end. Soon. And without the daily dose of bewitched drugs, he’d lose his humanity…completely. Where would that leave him? Bound to the girl he loved and unable to stop himself from doing unspeakable things to her. God, no. He wouldn’t allow it. Whatever he had to do, he would do. In order to maintain his supply, he’d continue to deal in Lucinda’s evil magic.
Whether he liked it or not, this was the way things were. The president had spies–consultants–everywhere. When she said jump, he would be there to make sure Breena asked how high.
When his phone beeped, he glanced down and saw the message icon. Jenny had texted to say she was about to wake up Breena. As he flipped the cell shut, he closed his eyes and pictured Breena. Taking a deep breath, he imagined the sweet taste of her blood on his tongue, tempting him like no other. He could never taste her again. Ever. Otherwise, if she died, she would become like him. Soulless. Evil. A vampire.
The very thought of doing something so vile to her lit a flame of fear in his veins.
Snap.
His phone crumpled in his hand.
* * * *
Breena woke to the smell of breakfast, Jenny bouncing on the bed and an overwhelming wave of fear.
“Good morning, sis!” Jenny sang. “We’re really sisters now. For real, for real.”
She snatched the dark-eyed girl to her chest and crushed Jenny in a tight bear hug, trying to ignore the strange panic. “We were always sisters in my book, short stuff.”
“Come on, let’s eat. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Be there in a few.” She squeezed her sister one last time before Jenny bounded out the door and down the hall.
Breena eased out of bed then stretched for a long time. It felt good to stand. She’d been recuperating for two solid weeks, even on Myles’s vamp blood. She’d had cuts, bruises, bites, a dislocated elbow, a broken arm, not to mention a fractured spine that had left her paralyzed from the waist down for over a week.
A quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand showed eight o’clock in the morning. Today was supposed to be her first day back at work, but she’d begged one of the photo-shop girls to cover her shift. Breena and Jenny had a very important date at the courthouse at two o’clock. Work had to take a backseat, even if Tammy had had the baby two days ago and they were short-handed. Breena wasn’t about to miss her appointment to sign the paperwork for legal guardianship of Jenny.
Soon they could put Norma out of their minds completely. She’d been arrested on murder charges with the trial set for six months’ time. Breena couldn’t help thinking of all the times she’d wished for this to happen, and it finally had. Maybe wishes did come true.
An anonymous tip had led police to find Evil One at her house, covered in blood, and Stan deader than a doornail in her bedroom. The newspaper reports said Norma kept talking about werewolves killing her daughter, but a note left by Real Daughter had stated she couldn’t take the abuse anymore and had gone to stay with her grandma in Boone.
Breena pushed Play on her iPod alarm clock. Because Orin knew her random taste in music, he’d added some Nirvana and Fleetwood Mac to her playlist. He didn’t exactly like the same genre as her–he was mainly into metal–but he got it and that’s what counted. Orin had bought the player for her as a get-well gift, which was the only reason she planned on keeping it. Everything else still had to go.
She took a second to smell the flowers on her dresser. Myles had brought a large bouquet of bright yellow dandelions in a blood-red glass vase, picked out by Dandi. Despite her chickening out at the funeral home and hiding from Myles’s master in Breena’s broken down car, Dandi had stepped it up and really been there for Jenny while Breena healed. They’d become fast friends and bonded–not in a blood way–over Gossip Girl.
She slung her sleep shirt and hipster undies into the laundry basket in the bathroom and took the hottest, steamiest shower possible. When her entire b
ody had become lobster-red and pruney, she wrapped her hair in a towel, dried off and slipped on jean shorts and an American Red Cross t-shirt she’d gotten for giving blood last year. The way things stood now, she didn’t think she’d ever give blood again.
Heading down the hall, she made her way into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Breena.” Orin stood in front of the stove. He didn’t know it yet, but she’d made her decision. When she’d woken up this morning, she’d just known. There was only one thing to do–follow her heart. But she had no idea how to tell him.
“Breakfast is served.” He placed the dishes on the table and handed her a mug of POM. “Tofu pancakes, organic strawberries and black bean patties.”
Breena and Jenny sat down to dig in, while Orin busied himself on the computer he’d bought for them when he’d furnished the apartment. She was starving, so all the meatless health food tasted pretty damn good.
After breakfast, Breena asked Jenny to clean up so she and Orin could have a few minutes to talk. He followed her back to her room, and they sat on the edge of the bed, side by side.
“I haven’t had a chance to say thank you for saving Jenny.” Dandi had told Breena she’d seen Orin rush Jenny out of the funeral home when the bats attacked.
Taking Breena’s hand in his, he turned to her. “Jenny’s your world. I would never let anything happen to her.”
Heat burned in her cheeks. He wouldn’t make this easy on her. She didn’t know what to say, so she changed the subject. For now.
“You didn’t finish telling me, why did the president send Myles’s master to kill his family?” She unlaced her fingers from Orin’s and sat on her hands.
The preternatural took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The queen and the president were once friends.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But the president envied what the queen had.”
“Which was?”
“Me.”
“Eeuw.” Breena couldn’t think about her grandmother with Orin. Too weird.
The preternatural shook his head. “Not like that. Lucinda wanted an assassin.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Breena bit her lip. Thinking. “So what does any of this have to do with Myles?”
“Since the president was unable to lure me away from my queen, she searched for someone else. And when Atian, the head of Supernatural Population Control, reported he’d found a tracker along with a halfling, I guess Lucinda thought she’d kill two birds with one stone.”
Breena cut her gaze to Orin.
“Sorry. Bad metaphor. I meant, take out the halfling and piss off Myles enough to become a killer.”
She knew what he’d meant. The president, her grandmother, might put on a good show, but deep down she hated halflings. Breena just didn’t know why. As for making Myles her assassin, guess it had backfired, considering he’d killed twelve of the thirteen members of council.
Orin traced the pattern on his palm, as if to stall. After a minute, he stopped to look up at Breena. “So where does this leave us?”
Avoiding his gaze, she pulled her hands from under her thighs and fiddled with a piece of lint on the hem of her shirt.
The talk. She realized they had to have it but she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to break Orin’s heart. Didn’t want to lose him either. But it wasn’t fair to string him along, and she had to be true to herself.
Everything inside her told her she belonged with Myles.
Then, why was this so damned hard?
With a touch as light as a feather, Orin lifted Breena’s chin and looked her straight in the eyes. “This isn’t over, Breena. We will never be over. Finding your soul mate means never giving up on them. As long as it takes, I’ll wait for you.”
“Orin, I love you, but–”
His lips brushed against hers, stopping her from finishing the thought. She almost kissed him back, but he pulled away. He watched her with his pale-green gaze, as if memorizing the shape of her face, the curve of her neck, the cascade of wet hair on her shoulders. Then, he vanished.
With her eyes closed, she touched a finger to her lips. The feel of his kiss lingered.
She’d done the right thing. Going back and forth between two guys wasn’t her style. She’d had to make a choice. A tough one, to be sure, but in the end the answer was clear. Then why did it feel like part of her heart had crumbled inside her chest? In true Breena fashion, she pushed the pain deep inside herself and locked it away. She would mourn another day.
To distract herself, she got ready. She slapped on some foundation along with a quick coat of mascara and left her hair to air-dry. Breena and Jenny watched an hour of TV while they folded a load of laundry.
She felt Myles’s presence close by even before Dandi knocked and let herself in. The blood-bond seemed more powerful this time–maybe it gained strength with each exchange, but she hadn’t asked about all the bloody logistics–and she’d given up fighting it. Trying to make it work to her advantage had quickly become her new strategy. It was kind of like being a mind reader. Of course, it worked both ways, which got on her nerves sometimes.
Oh well.
Dandi walked in, wearing gladiator wedges, white short shorts and a pewter baby-doll tank.
“Plannin’ on pole-dancing at the park today?” Breena teased.
“And a happy eightieth birthday to you, Grandma Ash.”
With a quick eye roll, Breena hugged Jenny and headed for the door.
“Myles is outside.” Dandi sauntered over to the couch.
“I’m aware.”
“Bet you don’t know he has a surprise.”
“I do now.” Breena stuck out her tongue.
Dandi flashed some fang but Breena ignored her and scooted outside.
Her yellow battle-worn car looked brand spanky new as it sparkled in the sunlight.
“Myles, you’ve got to be kidding me. This is awesome!” She darted to his side.
He grinned and ran a hand through his dark curls. “I overhauled her engine and gave her a new paint job.” His choice of pronoun for her beloved bug endeared him to her forever.
“This is too much. I’ll never be able to pay you back.”
“I don’t expect you to.” He hopped up onto the hood and propped his feet on the front bumper. “Consider it a thinking-of-you gift, Bree.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She realized how happy her happiness made him. It felt strange and natural at the same time.
After hoisting herself onto the hood of the gleaming Beetle, she reached over to give him a big hug.
He hugged her back. Tight. Her heart raced, and she knew he heard it. But he didn’t tease her. Instead, he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, tilted her chin up and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm against hers. His desire burned through her as she matched his heat with a flame of her own.
Everything felt right and perfect and wonderful. Breena thought she might explode with joy. Which meant she had to work extra hard to squelch the Negative Nancy voice in her head, trying to tell her she didn’t deserve happiness, she’d made the wrong choice.
Myles tweaked her nose and laughed. “You’re happy.”
And she was, mostly, aside from a few nagging questions.
Then, she tensed up. Being her, she couldn’t help it.
Why can’t I enjoy the moment?
“Wait. What’s wrong?” Myles arched a brow.
And just like that, the weight of her unanswered questions dragged her down. “Nothing,” she lied.
“Bree, surely you haven’t forgotten about our blood-bond?”
How could I?
“Smart-ass,” she mumbled under her breath.
“I heard that.” He smirked.
“Fine. There are some things I don’t understand.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for one, your maker kinda scared the shit-balls out of me. Will he be back? And why’d he threaten that
someday I’d be his?”
Myles sighed, long and deep–a very human sound. “He likes to collect…” He swiftly changed gears. “I can’t answer your question. Atian is conceited and powerful. Tack on his good-favor with the chairman, and who knows?” He shrugged, as if what he’d said wasn’t a big deal.
But it was.
It meant Breena would have to watch her back. And what the hell did he collect? The question formed on her lips. She wanted to ask. But didn’t. The grip of silence was back with a vengeance, and it held her tongue. She now realized her inability to ask the vampire certain questions was the control he had over her through his blood. He wasn’t able to compel her the same way as normal humans, but he did possess more power than she liked. She didn’t know to what extent his power played with her emotions, though she couldn’t help but wonder.
She reached for her next question, a safer one. “Who’s the chairman?”
“The head of Supernatural Population Control.”
“I thought,” for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to say his name out loud, “your master was the head of SPC?”
“He used to be. He retired a while back.”
Great. So this vamp had plenty of time on his hands, collected something Myles wouldn’t talk about and had promised to visit her again. Tension crept up her shoulders and lodged itself in the base of her neck.
“You’re stressed,” Myles said.
“Ya think?”
“It’ll be all right, Bree. You’ve got the protection of the Witches’ Council.” He was sending her calm vibes. She just knew it.
“Yeah, right, as long as Jenny and I do the president’s bidding.” She leaned forward to prop her elbows on her knees.
He mimicked the pose and changed the subject. “Bree, I want us to start over.”
“Like how?”
He faced her. “From the beginning.” She knew what he meant. He wanted what she wanted–to be together–but obstacles still stood in their way.
“Speaking of which.” She realized her pun after she’d said it. “What about the president? How can we just be together? Won’t it go against your sentence? Isn’t that why you’ve fought your feelings for me?”
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