Everdark tdic-2

by Elle Jasper

  Eli gripped my shoulders and stared sternly at me. “Preacher has been working crazy hours to flush your system safely. The side effects are . . . extreme. Out of control.” He turned me around and stared down at me. With his thumb, he grazed my jaw. “Riley, you will always carry some of their DNA. And that makes you more than a little unpredictable. But I can handle you. We will work through this. Together. I won’t leave you alone for a second. Understand?”

  I watched the play of firelight dance across his features, noticing how it threw parts of his face into dark shades and jagged planes. I would always have a little Arcos in me? That bothered the hell out of me. At least the d.t.’s would eventually go away. I didn’t like eyeballing my brother’s arteries. “The pain?” I asked, remembering the torturous feeling that had gripped me into a feral insanity. “Will it come back?”

  Eli nodded. “Yes, it will. It’s not over yet,” he said, and I could plainly see how much he hated telling me, or rather, how much he hated that it would happen. “I hate it way more than you can imagine,” he said, reading my thoughts. “It kills me to see you in agony, and that I can’t do a goddamn thing about it pisses me off even more.” In the firelight, his eyes darkened dangerously, and I knew then that to be on Eli Dupré’s bad side could be a frightening thing. Luckily, he liked me.

  I pushed aside my mounting fear and braved a big fake smile. “Don’t worry, Dupré. I can handle it,” I said, and slipped my arms around his waist. “Easy peasy. No prob. Just make sure I don’t hurt anyone.”

  With a muttered French curse, Eli shook his head. “Always a badass, huh, Poe?” he said, then cocked his head at me and smiled. “I truly dig that about you.”

  “I know you do,” I answered, and grazed his lips slowly with mine. Then, Eli kissed me—the kiss possessive, hard, erotic—and for so long I lost my breath. At some point, I lost consciousness—as in totally passed out. I’d like to say Eli’s intense, passionate kissing/making out rocked my world so hard that I fainted, but only later did I realize what had really happened, and for how long.

  Nightmares plagued me; hunger plagued me worse. I crawled around on all fours, lunging and gnashing at anything that happened by. Heartbeats thumped all around me, and I could hear blood rushing through vessels. I wanted it. I needed it.

  I fought to get it. I didn’t care whose it was.

  The big one had to have a lot; I could smell it, almost taste it on my tongue. Like a cat, I waited; he grew close. I leapt, wrapped my legs around his waist, and used all my strength to hold him still. I wanted what pumped through his veins. Hands grasped me; voices yelled. I was pulled off. I thrashed; my body writhed; on all fours I scrambled away. My senses alerted me to another—a smaller one—but the resonating whoosh-whoosh of the substance I craved pumping through his body beckoned me. I crouched, then lunged, wrapping my whole body around him to prevent escape. Something coldcocked me in the head—in the fucking head! I flew back, my prize released, and I hit the ground hard. Air left my lungs. My head throbbed. I lay there, seeing nothing but darkness and stars. My chest rose and fell. My heart barely beat. Stillness washed over me. I was unsure whether I was sleeping or dead.

  I wasn’t dead; I’d learned a lesson. Pretending to be asleep, I waited for another to come to me; the hunger inside me roared as I sensed his approach. Why wasn’t anyone giving it to me? I’d fucking get it myself. I waited. He drew closer. His breath brushed over me, leaning close. Quickly, I wrapped my legs around him, grabbed his head, and found his throat with my mouth. I held fast, with my teeth and body. Something was wrong, though. There was no rush of blood; no thump-thump as it beat through his body. Weakened, I allowed him to shake me off. I hit the ground, and he landed on top of me. He held me down; at first I thrashed. He allowed me to. Drained as I was, slumber claimed me and pulled me into darkness.

  A cold sweat awakened me, and I bolted up out of my sleep. Vague flashes of horrifying dreams crossed my memory, but not in full. As if I were watching an old reel of film on fast-forward, bits and pieces of scenes broke into my vision. They came so fast, I couldn’t tell if I was even in them. I couldn’t even tell whether they were dreams I was remembering, or reality. My breath came fast, as though I’d been running; yet my heart pumped slowly, sluggishly, almost inhumanly, and I could hear it echo inside my head like a deep, bellowing gong. I glanced down at myself. Only a pair of panties and a tank covered my body. All else was bare. My inked dragons burned, as though literally searing into my skin, my back, my arms, as if they were alive. It was nighttime. The sky was an eerie blue hue, darkness surrounded me, and a slight breeze wafted through the gaping front of my tent. It grazed my skin, and it cooled the burning. I craved . . . something. To eat? I wanted it badly, with the same intensity of having the freaking munchies after a toke party. But I didn’t want corn chips and soda. I wanted . . . steak—very, very rare steak. I moved to get up but was stopped.

  A strong arm snaked around my middle, and only then did I realize Eli sat behind me on the makeshift quilted bed. We were still on Da Island, I supposed. With his legs on either side of me, he cradled my body and pulled me against him. After a few seconds of trying to figure out where the hell I was and what was happening, I relaxed and rested my head against his chest. The craving was still there, but it eased.

  “What’d I miss?” I asked, vaguely thinking how odd it was not to feel his heartbeat at my back. Eli Dupré was a creature of the afterlight. He didn’t have a heartbeat. But he did have heart. I snuggled into his warmth—well, as much warmth as a vampire could have, anyway. I snuggled into his lukewarmness.

  “About another week,” he admitted, grasping my hands, pulling them to my waist, and lacing his fingers through mine. “You had me seriously worried this time, Riley.”

  “I don’t remember,” I said, and turned my head to the side, looking up at him. His face was lost in shadows. “The last I recall, you were kissing me, then ... nothing. And I don’t like having chunks of my life missing. So tell me.”

  Eli let out a deep sigh—funny, since he didn’t need lungs or air to breathe—and tightened his arms around me. “You did pass out, but not for long. When you came around, you were wild. Bad withdrawals, Riley. Crazy-bad, as in mad-dog, foaming-at-the-mouth, rabies-type withdrawals. I could barely restrain you. You had night sweats, day sweats, chills, and you pretty much tore up Estelle’s camp. That pain caused you to make sounds I’ve never heard a human make before.” He brushed his scruffy jaw against my cheek. “You were like a newling, having the strigoi blood inside you. It was torturous, Riley, and I never, ever want to hear it come from you again. I felt . . . as if it were happening to me.” His lips grazed my skin, and I shuddered at the intimacy. “I felt hopeless. Never again, baby.”

  “I remember flashes of weird dreams, as if I were attacking someone,” I said, struck by his endearing name for me. It was the first time he’d used it. I stared into the darkness. “Jesus, tell me I didn’t attack someone. What else?”

  “You kicked my ass—that’s what else,” he said, and I could feel his grin, his teeth, against the skin of my neck.

  That should have caused me a little fear—especially since I had flavor-of-the-month-for-vampires blood. But, it didn’t. “Strong as a freaking horse, you are, woman,” he continued. “Phin, Luc, and I had to take you to another island, just to keep the others safe.”

  I turned in his lap and stared in the vicinity of his face. “What?”

  Eli’s low, soft chuckle filled the night air. “We had to leave Da Island before you hurt someone else. We’re close by—just another barrier isle. We had to put a little water between you and the others.”

  “Someone else?” I asked, almost shrieking. “I can’t believe I attacked anybody. Who did I hurt? Are they okay? Oh my God, tell me it wasn’t Estelle.”

  “Shh,” he said, tugging me backward. “Lie still and relax, and stop squirming all over the place. Everyone’s okay, and no, it wasn’t Preacher or Estelle.”


  “Who?” I demanded, but allowed Eli to settle me against him. “I need to know, Eligius. Tell me. Now.”

  Again, he chuckled, so it must’ve not been that bad. “Let’s just say Zetty won’t cross you again for a while. At least, not without a few more protective charms from Estelle. Neither will Riggs.” He laughed. “Jack and Tuba won’t come near you without a blade. And I think the Romanian swear words were enough to damage all of them for life. Nasty language, Riley. Seriously—freaky-filthy.” He nuzzled my neck. “Good thing no one else knows Romanian. I know it, though. At least the curse words. And I like it.” He nipped my skin. “I got the worst of it, though. I guess because I stayed by you.”

  I sat up again and turned toward him. “God, you’re a perv. Come on. What did I do to you? A two-hundred-year-old wicked-tempered vampire?”

  In one quick move, Eli picked me up and turned my whole body around, then settled me in his lap, face-to-face. “Besides beating the holy hell out of me,” he said, resting his hands on my hips, “you tried to drain my blood. Not that I have any—but that didn’t stop you.” He rubbed a hand over his throat. “Damn, my neck is still sore.”

  I closed my eyes, mortified. “I’m sorry,” I said, and looked at him. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  “Freaking weird, huh?” Luc suddenly said, ducking into the tent. Phin followed. “You were like, on vamp crack or something. Went after throats as if there were no tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, Ri,” Phin said. “Wrapping those long legs around your prey. Like some weird spider monkey or something. You’d make one badass strigoi, that’s for sure. Eyes all wide and scary, teeth gnashing.” He shuddered dramatically. “Scary.”

  “Like, Underworld badass,” Luc said, then studied me. “Pretty hot, though.”

  “Too bad I didn’t turn on you,” I said, thinking it vaguely funny that they, vampires themselves, thought it was all, well, funny. I narrowed my gaze. “Watch your neck.”

  Luc laughed. “Don’t worry.”

  Phin squatted down and looked at me with a grin. “If you ever get tired of being with an old man”—he inclined his head to Eli—“you know where to find me. I dig kick-ass chicks with long legs and tats.”

  I shook my head. “You’ll be the first to know.”

  I was silent for a moment, then cleared my throat. “Okay, so here we are, on another barrier island, isolated, with unpredictable teeth-gnashing scary me in my freaking panties, straddling your brother. How ’bout a little privacy, huh?” I said, then turned to Eli. I couldn’t see his features—just his silhouette; his very beautiful silhouette. “Is it safe yet?” I asked him.

  “You mean, are you safe yet?” Luc corrected.

  “We won’t know for sure for a while,” Eli said, “but I think I can handle it. Luc, Phin—get out of here.” Eli’s hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer. Fire shot through me.

  “Are you sure, Bro—”

  “Now,” I said. It was more of a growl.

  Eli’s brothers laughed and, just as fast as they had appeared, they disappeared into the darkness. I didn’t stare after them; I didn’t wait to see if they’d actually gone. Fact was, I didn’t care. They could stay and watch for all that it mattered. What I wanted—desperately needed—was right in front of me; rather, beneath me. Obsession to take him claimed me.

  I eased down, shoved my fingers through Eli’s hair, and pulled his mouth to mine with more force than I’d meant. The desperation to have him crushed me, frightened me, made me breathless, reckless, and, thank God, his craving matched mine. As if we were starved, our mouths met hungrily, taking whatever was being offered. Eli’s hands eased up my side, palming my breasts through the thin cotton tank I wore. Unsatisfied, I slung his hands away, yanked the thing over my head, and threw it aside. Thankfully, Eli wasn’t wearing a shirt. His hands were on me again, skimming my bare skin, my ribs, my back, caressing my breasts, and I savored his mouth as though tasting an exotic flavor for the very first time. Hot and sweet, our tongues and mouths slid against one another, the slick friction an aphrodisiac that nearly made me lose my mind. I lifted a hand to our melded mouths, slipped a finger between our lips, and felt his tongue tangle with mine. I groaned at the sensation, then felt Eli’s hands skim my spine, cup my buttocks, and pull me hard against him. Again, I groaned.

  “I want you inside me,” I whispered hoarsely, breathless, running my palm over the hard ridges of his abs, lower, groping. I dragged my lips across his neck, to his ear. “Us. One. Now.”

  I quickly found myself hard on my back. A whoosh of air escaped my lungs, and, before I could catch my breath, his nimble fingers had grasped my panties and ripped them right off me. The sound of ragged material cracked the still night air, and the roughness excited me. Filtered moonlight reflected off Eli’s eyes; a dangerous gleam that sent a thrill through my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grabbed him by the neck, and pulled his mouth down to mine.

  I don’t know when Eli lost the board shorts he was wearing, but I was damn glad for it. Skin to skin, his just a fraction cooler in temperature than mine, we melded. As he pushed into me, I groaned, dug my heels into his ass, and gasped as he moved, seductive, possessive, wild and out of control.

  A slow, tumultuous orgasm built from somewhere deep within me, growing in strength, making me struggle for breath as it peaked, and crashing over me in shuddering waves until my body shook. I wanted to sink straight into Eli—into his soul. I buried my face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around me; total bodies embraced, limbs entwined, and his shudders rocked me as an orgasm wracked him, too. With his mouth at my ear, his full lips dragging seductively across my skin, he whispered, gasped, spoke unknown words in French, muttered my name, and clung to me as though our lives depended on it. I felt him so deeply, I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began. Eli made me feel more vulnerable than I’d ever care to admit. And it scared the hell out of me.

  Without words, Eli pulled me up, cradled me in his arms as he lay back, and together we drifted, content; I couldn’t remember ever having felt so thoroughly absolute. To the feel of his strong fingers dragging softly against my skin, I allowed exhaustion to claim me, and it pulled me under in a swift, shadowy, slumbering wave. I hoped that if this was an isolated moment of lucidity, I’d remember it later. I mean, damn.

  In the dark recesses of my subconscious, I cherished Eli Dupré as though we were spending our very last moment together.

  Three days later . . .

  “We’re not stopping until you get it right.”

  I glared first at Eli, then at my opponents: Jack and Tuba, two young, healthy, very large Gullah guys—both heavily muscled and bare to the waist. Tuba gave me a closed-mouth smile. Jack’s face remained unreadable. “I am freaking doing it right,” I said, the words coming out between clenched teeth. I bent over at the waist, grasped both knees with my hands, and breathed—hard. We’d been at it for hours. The sun blasted down, not a single cloud in the sky to filter its strength. Sand gnats buzzed around my head. I swatted at them irritably, stomped my feet, then rose and pushed the sweaty bangs that had escaped my ponytail off my face. Maybe I was PMSing. I was irritable as hell and just felt . . . bitchy. “How much more right does it have to be, Eli?”

  “Blades seized and bodies down.”

  “You’re freaking crazy,” I muttered under my breath.

  He smiled.

  I swore loudly in Romanian—a nasty habit I’d unwillingly and inadvertently picked up after having been bitten by those two strigoi Arcos assholes. “Are you freaking kidding me, Dupré?” I kicked the sand, said a few more choice expletives (one day I’d have to learn what they exactly meant—for now I just knew they were bad, and that made me feel better), then walked toward the surf, hands on hips. The salt water licked my bare feet, the crushed shells and coarse sand abrasive between my toes and against my soles. The low-rise board shorts I wore were navy and black, as was the string bikini top—too damn dark for midday, that was fo
r sure. The material sucked in the sun’s sweltering rays, literally frying my hineisca and boobs. No lie, my ass was on fire. I rushed into the water, dunked under, and emerged. Water rolled off my skin. I may have even seen steam.

  “Are you going to spend the rest of the afternoon whining, or are you going to get it right? They both have their weapons, Riley. You have to do more than jump over them,” Eli said, now standing in the water, arms crossed over his bare chest, and with a look so smug I wanted to throw him into the surf. One dark brow—the one with the silver hoop—lifted. He’d read my thoughts again. “Really?” He chuckled. “Come on, Poe, if you think you can take me.”

  I turned, rushed, dropped to a crouch, shot my leg out, and swept Eli’s ankles, leaving behind an arc of water. Without looking, I knew I’d gotten him; I’d heard the splash and curse as he’d landed. I ran directly at Jack and Tuba, who, for the most part, stood, stunned at what I’d done to Eli. I grabbed Jack’s blade, leapt, pushed off his shoulder with one bare foot, and as I flipped over Tuba, I relieved him of his blade, too. I landed on my hands and feet in a kick-ass, impressive crouchingdragon position—all in under five seconds. I flipped my head cockily, swinging my sopping wet ponytail out of my face, and found Eli’s gaze penetrating mine. We stared for a handful of seconds. A burst of pride filled me at my conquered tendencies. God—I’d felt so . . . Matrix -y. And it felt good. Maybe being tainted by strigoi DNA wasn’t so bad after all.

  “Again,” Eli said, still sitting in the water. “You didn’t take them down.”

  “Screw you,” I replied with a grin. “I took you down. That counts for both of them.”

  Jack and Tuba laughed.

  With lightning speed I kicked out and swept both of their ankles. Two very large Gullah guys hit the sand. Still crouching, I flung their blades hard. Each stuck in the sand no more than an inch from their crotches. They both made a noise that highly resembled a tire with an air leak. I rose, brushed my hands off on my ass, and turned toward Eli. I grinned.