Everdark tdic-2

by Elle Jasper

  Everdark

  ( The Dark Ink Chronicles - 2 )

  Elle Jasper

  When Savannah tattoo artists Riley Poe is ambushed by an undead enemy, she inherits some of the traits of her attackers-and a telepathic link with a rampaging vampire. Now, she's experiencing murder after murder through the victims' eyes. And her new powers will not be enough to stop the horror-or the unending slaughter...

  Elle Jasper

  Everdark

  For the girls at Coffee Buy the Book in Pulaski, Virginia: Tracey, Jill, Steph, Pennie, Ally, Holly, Jill (there’re two!), Janie, Tawana, and the only nongirl, Dan the Man—this one’s yours, guys. Thanks so much for your support, hospitality, and the big freaking production you make for the fan-freaking-tastic book signings you invite me to! It’s the most fun I’ve had as an author yet! For the super readers and fans who show up to support and buy my books, for the food and wine, and for an always-memorable stay at the gorgeous Rockwood Manor—and for the friendship. I thank you. Totally. You make me feel like a rock star!

  Acknowledgments

  The following people rock at motivating, supporting, and encouraging me throughout the sometimes-grueling (selfinflicted!) and rewarding process of writing a novel. They give that certain special and influential kick in the ass I am so deserving of at times, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. They are my sisters, my best pals—my she-wolf pack! Kim Lenox, Leah Marie Brown, Betsy Kane, Eveline Chapman, Karol Miles, Molly Hammond, Allison Bunton, Valerie Morton, Bhing Dequito, Tyler Homberger, Sheri Dotson, Tracy Pierce, the Denmark Sisterhood, and, as always, my best friend of all—my mom, Dale Nease. You guys freakin’ rock-a-dilly! Thanks for being in my life.

  Part One

  Tainted

  “Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.”

  —Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

  “There’s a part of me that knows Eli wants me forever—as in it’s unacceptable for him to even consider my death, no matter how far into the future it may be. Okay—I like that. Who wouldn’t? Never have I wanted someone so badly, and never has anyone wanted me the way Eli does. But I think he wants to turn me, and that sort of freaks me out. I don’t want to live forever. It’s not . . . natural. I’m not scared of him or anything, but let’s just say I sleep with one eye open.”

  —Riley Poe

  Da Island, Gullah

  Off the coast of Savannah, Georgia

  mid-September

  “Hold her down!”

  Fire ripped through my insides, through my veins, under my skin, deep into my muscles, and I thrashed against the three pairs of strong arms trying to hold me still—I didn’t know why or who they were. I didn’t know where I was. I saw nothing but blood behind my eyes, streaks of crimson blurring my vision, and my head pounded with each sluggish thump of my exaggerated heartbeat. I knew only pain, and I wanted to get the freaking hell away from it, out of the tangled arms trying to restrain me. “Get the fuck off me!” I gritted through my teeth. Their grips tightened. The air was smoldering hot all around me as if it poured from a five-hundred-degree oven. It made the burning inside my body even more intense, and the heavy scent of salt and rotted sea life wafted to me. I wanted to puke.

  “I liked it better when she couldn’t move,” a voice I knew but couldn’t place said sarcastically. It had a slight French accent.

  I kicked out hard and caught someone on the jaw with my heel. A muffled curse and laughter reached my ears. I didn’t care. I was in friggin’ agony, and getting out of it was all that mattered. I fought harder, growling and spitting. An all-consuming hate filled me. I felt it through my skin, all the way to my bones. Finally, I broke free. I scrambled on all fours but didn’t make it far. Someone’s full body slammed me into the scorching sand, and I lay there, trapped, under the crushing weight—in anguish. I swore, but the sound came out muffled as coarse grains pushed into my open mouth. Whatever was on top of me was squeezing the breath out of me. I coughed. Air had a hard time getting back into my lungs. I wheezed.

  “Ease up, Zetty,” another familiar voice said. “You’re pushing her face into the sand. She can’t breathe.”

  Zetty? What the hell? An unfamiliar, guttural sound came from the weight trapping me. I bucked, or tried to, anyway.

  “Here, give this to her,” another voice said. “Fast.”

  “You give it to her, Bro.”

  I heard a muttered curse, then felt a sharp pinprick in my ass. I bucked again, hard. I screamed, but it was no use. I lay there in the sand, with a big, heavy-ass Zetty stretched out on top of me as I cursed and wailed, until a drugging, calming haze swept over me, pulling me down. The pain eased, my lids grew heavy, and, finally, shadows crowded me, claiming me. I knew nothing else, and that was freaking fine by me. For however long, I slept.

  A breeze drifted over my skin and across my face, and I cracked open my eyes. I anticipated pain, and that unbearable burning, but thankfully, there was none. My vision was blurry, but long shadows fell over me, accompanied by the cooler temperature of the afterlight, making everything around me hazy.

  “Hey, you.”

  Only then did I notice strong fingers interlaced with mine, and I turned my head and blinked several times until Eli’s face, lit by a kerosene lamp, came into focus. Dark shadows melded against perfect, pale skin, and the contrast made my breath catch. Had I ever feared him? Even now, it was hard for me to imagine his face contorted into the monster I knew he could become. He bent closer, and I inhaled his unique, drugging scent. “Hey,” I said, my voice scratchy, sore, and broken. “What happened? I feel as if a train hit me.” I did, too. My whole body ached, down to the bone—almost to the cellular level. Grinding my teeth together, I noticed grit. Sand?

  “Yeah, sand,” Eli said, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “And your body aches because Zetty threw his full weight onto you. Damn, he’s one big Tibetan.” I found a bottle of water pressed to my lips. “Rinse and drink.” I did. Eli then leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine. A thrill shot through me, and my insides fluttered as the pressure of Eli’s lips settled, moved, tasted, caressed.

  Possessed.

  The pressure eased, and Eli pulled back, his darkening gaze fastened on mine. The small silver hoop still adorned his brow, and I decided I seriously liked it. “You fight like a wildcat.” The corner of his mouth tipped upward into the sexiest grin I’d ever seen. He nuzzled my neck. “Turns me on,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, I bet it does, freak,” I said lightly. I laughed, shaking off the erotic shiver that coursed through my body at his seductive words. A powerful surge of desire for Eli gripped me, and, to be frank, it sort of took me off guard. It was strong. And not just midtwenties, hotblooded American girl, horny strong. It was powerful as hell.

  Eli’s striking blue eyes darkened even more, turning almost stormy in color as he stared down at me. “It’s one of your tendencies,” he said, and he stroked my bottom lip with his thumb.

  “What is?” I asked, shivering.

  “Your extreme horniness,” he answered proudly. “Definitely a perk, not that you had any problem before—”

  My hand over his mouth stopped his words, and I grinned. “You’re in big trouble now, Dupré,” I said, my voice raspy, deeper than usual, and I slipped my hand around his neck, pulling his mouth to mine.

  “Promise?” Eli whispered against me.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, and parted his lips with my tongue, kissing him deeply. A thousand sensations blasted through me at once as an intense, almost unbearable heat pooled between my legs. In the next second, a burst of power exploded from my body as I grabbed Eli, flipped him over, off the makeshift bed of pillows and quil
ts, and onto the hard-packed sand. A small grunt escaped his throat, and for some reason, I liked that. I pinned him beneath me, my legs straddling his waist, my crotch grinding against him, my knees digging into the coarse sand and my hands trapping his above his head. All in under three seconds. Swear to God.

  Eli Dupré did nothing more than smile. And it was a wicked, wicked smile.

  With such speed I surprised myself, I gathered both of his hands in one, and before my brain even registered my actions, I was reaching for his button fly. I wanted him, and I meant to have him—yesterday.

  The dark glimmer in Eli’s eyes meant he was going to let me.

  I had three buttons undone, my hand inside his jeans, and a low moan emitting from Eli’s throat when a voice interrupted.

  “Whoa, girl,” Phin said, way too close. “Not in front of the children, huh?”

  “Yeah, dude. Get a room.”

  Laughter erupted around me, deep male chuckles mixed with squeaky adolescent ones.

  In the next instant, my body left Eli’s, and I was lifted and settled hard on my feet, outside the open-air tent in which I’d been attacking Eli. I turned, and a small flickering campfire cast amber light into laughing green eyes filled with mischief. “Yeah, Sis. Especially not in front of the children. That’s just ... gross.”

  I leapt and threw my arms around my brother. “Seth!” I said, burying my face against the strong column of his neck. It was the first time I’d seen him since, well, before. When he’d been in transition, before his almost-quickening. “Oh my God, I’ve missed you!” My heart literally pounded with sheer joy. I had my brother back! I squeezed tighter, and happiness shot through me.

  Seth’s long arms hugged me tightly, and he lifted me off the ground. “I missed you, too, Ri.” A small crack in his voice let me know just how emotional my little brother really was.

  I hugged him for a long, long time and, finally, after drawing in his familiar scent, I pulled back and looked at him—really looked at him. Bare-chested, barefoot, and wearing only a pair of low-slung black board shorts that hung to his knees, he seemed . . . different. Way different—not the teenage brother I’d known a month before. Without even thinking, I touched his face, then his jaw. Pushing aside the dark sweep of hair from his forehead, I felt the growing muscles in his chest, the rocks carved into his stomach. I turned him around and checked out his lean back. His normally pale skin was tanned from the sun, and, just below the board shorts, I saw a strip of colorless skin where his tan ended and his white butt began. Just as fast, I turned him back around to face me. I blinked. He hardly looked like my baby brother. It wasn’t that he looked older or anything. Just . . . different. Can someone look wiser? I stared at him. “You’ve changed, Bro.”

  “Right?” he said proudly, and gave himself a quick glance. “I’ve been working out with Zetty and the guys.” Then, his face grew serious, his eyes somber, and worry lines gathered between his brows. “Are you gonna be all right?”

  For whatever reason, his concern worried me. I glanced at Phin, Luc, then Eli, before turning back to Seth. “Of course,” I assured him, and punched his arm. “No prob. I feel better already, just seeing you.” I did, too. It seemed like forever since I’d seen him. Normal, that is. If you could call what we’d become normal. I stared at my brother a little more. Something struck me, deep inside—a twinge. My gaze moved from his face to his throat, and there it lingered. The pulse of his heart barely lifted the skin there, keeping in sync with the beat as the blood pulsed through his veins. I became transfixed, staring at that spot. Inside my body, seemingly just beneath the surface, I quivered.

  Seth studied me a few seconds more, grinned, and draped an arm over my shoulders. “Good. So, you wanna hang?”

  “Probably not a good idea,” Eli said, glancing at me before meeting Seth’s gaze. “Not alone, anyway. At least, not for a while.” He gave me a slight smile. “Still working out a few kinks.” He pulled my arm. What was wrong with me?

  “Yeah,” Luc said with a laugh, giving me a twinkling-eyed look. “Kinks. That’s what they call it now. Kinks.”

  It was only then I noticed the others. Phin, Luc, and Josie stood behind Seth, along with several of the teens who’d been on the verge of become newling vamps.

  “Smokin’ hot as usual, babe,” Riggs Parker said from the small crowd. He pushed closer, his shaggy dark hair hanging across his eyes. With a quick flip of his head, he whipped his hair aside. “I’ll work the kinks out with you, Riley.”

  Luc smacked Riggs on the back of the head. Everyone laughed. Riggs merely shrugged and grinned. “Can’t blame a dude for tryin’.”

  So Riggs had made it. Still a freaking little pervert, and cocky as always, but he’d made it. I noticed the same pulsing point at his throat that I’d noticed on Seth, but I shook my head and forced myself not to fixate on it. I glanced around at the familiar faces, and some new ones, and then looked at Eli. “So, what is this? Some weird vampy version of Lord of the Flies ? Or Vamp Camp ?” Then, it hit me, and I scowled. “What kinks?”

  “Whoa, time to go,” Luc said, and gave Riggs a push. “I think Eli can handle this. Come on, guys. Ricky’s got some ’splainin’ to do. Estelle has dinner ready, anyway.” With a series of shrill whoops, the Lord of the Flies boys, all bare to the waist and wearing various colors of board shorts, took off with Luc. I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what dinner was going to be. I glanced around. Zetty stood, arms crossed over his big chest and his eyes trained on me. I’d never seen Zetty dressed in anything except his traditional Tibetan clothes—a long red yak wool wrap and baggy black pants tucked into short leather boots. He now wore, like the others, a pair of baggy board shorts. His were red. The handwoven, multicolored sheath crossed his bare chest, encasing the traditional Nepali knife he never went anywhere without. He didn’t say a word. He, too, had a pulse point that drew my attention. His hand slipped up and covered the spot; then he glared at me. His shiny black brows were furrowed, and the unique red and yellow tattooed squares and dots that marked him as a once-Shiva follower sat stark against his tanned forehead. They made him look unapproachable; scary. And I’d apparently done something to piss him off.

  Seth pulled me out of thought and into a tight hug. “I love you, Ri,” he said against my ear. “Swear to God, I’ll never leave you again.”

  That boy always could melt my heart. I hugged him fiercely back. “You won’t have to,” I assured him, even though his concern really concerned me. I pulled back and studied him. “Now go. Eat. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Seth held my gaze for several seconds. “You probably won’t be, but it’s okay. I’ll be there when you’re ready.” He smiled, presenting a sincere, winsome look that made him seem mature beyond his fifteen years. Then he turned to Zetty. “Let’s go, Zet-Man.” The two took off up the beach, Seth’s tanned body alongside Zetty’s, well, huge one, melding into the afterlight. I stared after my brother, my jaw dropping in wonder at the speed at which Seth ran—and how Zetty could almost keep up. The mystical man from Nepal had a long black braid that whipped from side to side as he ran. I stared until my vision blurred. “Whoa,” I muttered, and shook my head. “Weird.” In the distance, I saw another campfire, larger, close to the shore, its orange hues and blue sparks reaching toward the darkening sky. A small figure huddled close to the flames. Squinting, I made out the colorful fabric patches of Estelle’s familiar billowy skirt.

  A nervous twinge gripped me. Something was up. I was purposely being kept apart from everyone. I wanted to spend time with my brother, and I missed my Gullah grandparents. “What’s wrong with me?” I asked Eli. The look in Seth’s eyes had disturbed me.

  Strong arms slid around my waist from behind, and Eli pulled me against him tightly. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his lips close to my ear. I shuddered and leaned my head against his chest. “Tell me,” I said. “Everything. I can’t remember anything except waking up on Da Island, unable to move. And I don’t even know ho
w long ago that was.”

  Eli sighed and held me tighter. “Your body is going through d.t.’s, sort of,” he said. “Your recovery is going a little slower than we’d hoped. “You’ve been here almost two weeks.”

  Damn. I’d lost two weeks out of my life. “D.t’s? From what?” I asked.

  “The Arcoses’ venom. It has tainted your blood.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, and, swear to God, my blood at that moment suddenly felt several degrees colder.

  “Yeah, I’m serious,” he said. He cocked his head and studied me. “You don’t remember me taking you to Da Island, after Bonaventure?”

  I thought, then shook my head. “I guess I don’t.”

  Eli nodded. “I’m glad. You were not in a good way, Riley. We had to contain you and the others, and staying in the city would have been risky. So we brought the almost-newlings—you, Seth, the others—to Da Island for rehab. You got the worst of it since both Arcoses infected you. Although your blood and their venom were mixed for only a short time, it was long enough for you to become addicted to it—intensely addicted, from the moment they bit you. Your body craves it now, and there’s no way to tell how long it will last. You’ve been in d.t.’s the whole time with only short periods of lucidity. Like now.”

  “Is that what was wrong with me a few minutes ago?” I asked, my throat tightening at the thought. “I . . . was staring at the pulses in Seth’s throat, in Zetty’s, Riggs’. As if I wanted it. Wanted their blood.” With the pads of my fingers, I pushed against my closed eyes, then looked up at him. “So you’re telling me I could snap at any second like some animal? Attack Seth? That’s what I’d felt a second ago. As if I wanted to jump on him.” I shook my head. “No freaking way, Eli. I want it out of me.”