He couldn't articulate a word with the electricity coursing through his limbs. He could only twitch and watch in horror as Cassandra scooted back then carefully pushed away from the wall, landing on her feet in a crouch. She rose slowly and faced the enemy.
"That's a good little gal," the guy with the cattle prod cooed.
The man at the door strode forward with intent. Cassandra raised her chin and didn't flinch when the man grabbed her by the upper arm.
"Leave her alone," he finally croaked, and that won him a swift kick to his ribs.
"Do y'all know what mistletoe is?" the man with the cattle prod asked Cassandra. He seemed to be the leader and the only one who spoke.
She frowned but nodded.
The man fished into his pocket and produced the lovely plant, fresh from picking. "Beautiful and deadly," their captor said. "It is neither an herb nor a plant and grows high, suspended in the branches of sacred trees." With a red ribbon, he tied the mistletoe to the ring that held Tremayne's chains in place.
The man's hands were large, agile, and … gloved. Was it because he didn't want to leave fingerprints, or was it because he was a vampire too, and feared touching the lethal iron?
Tremayne inhaled and nearly choked on the scents wafting from the man. It proved his captor wanted to mask his true scent. Did this mean he knew who had taken them? Tremayne narrowed his eyes. Something about the man did seem oddly familiar and, every so often, he would catch a hint of an Irish lilt beneath the overly done Southern accent, but before he could think further on it, the man went for the cattle prod again.
The jolt of electricity was nothing compared to hearing Cassandra's worried cry. He shook on the ground, his limbs useless as he watched in horror.
Cassandra twisted in her captor's arms and landed a kick to his midsection. The man grunted, but recovered quickly and slammed her up against the wall. She hit hard with a cry of pain.
Tremayne bared his teeth and managed a pathetic hiss. He'd kill the man, slowly and painfully, for daring to hurt her.
The man gripped her upper arm and hauled her in front of him. He would not be caught by surprise again.
"Are we through now?" the leader asked, not really expecting an answer from Cassandra. The man leaned down then and hauled him up by the hair. He grabbed at the man's arm, but it was useless. He couldn't regenerate with the iron clasped to him. Even with Cassandra's shirt buffering the metal's touch, it wasn't enough. He was at the mercy of this bastard.
The man yanked his head back and pressed a blade to his neck.
"Noooo!" Cassandra wailed and lunged forward to only be hauled back by the man who held her.
"No?" his captor said with disbelief. "Are ya not a Hayes, a hunter of fiends?"
She nodded. "I am and, believe me, I have every intention of hunting you down and killing you."
The man chuckled. "Dear lass, I believe ya are confused. The only fiend in this room is Tremayne Graystone." Through dark tinted glasses, the man leveled his eyes on him. "Aye, a vampire that should be eliminated." He pressed the blade into Tremayne's flesh, drawing blood.
"No, stop," Cassandra pleaded. "He's not –"
"He's not what?" the man asked, a bit of curiosity ringing in the words.
Cassandra licked her lips. "He's good." She closed her eyes.
"He's good," he said sarcastically. "Really? Y'all will have to do better than that, hunter." And he pressed the blade deeper and drew blood again.
"Oh God, no. Don't hurt him. I… I love him," she choked.
The pressure of the blade lessened. The captor's gaze latched onto him as he spoke. "Did ya know with all the mistletoes' beauty and healing properties, it's also lethal when consumed in high quantities."
Tremayne frowned, wondering why the man felt the need to give them a lesson on plants.
"The hunter claims she loves ya, but do ya love her?" the man asked Tremayne.
He didn't hesitate. "I do."
The man glanced at Cassandra. "Do ya believe a vampire could truly love a hunter?"
"Yes," she said. "Yes, if he says so. I believe him." Cassandra found his gaze. "I trust him."
"Prove it," the man challenged.
Her brows furrowed. "How?"
He turned and pulled off a handful of berries from the mistletoe tied to the ring above. He yanked Tremayne's head back before he could react and shoved the berries into his mouth. He flayed his hands and tried to break free, but he had no strength against his captor. His limbs had not recovered from the jolt of electricity and the iron would not allow him to heal.
Cassandra screamed hysterically, her words filled with panic. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see she struggled to be free from her captor's grasp, but she was having no luck.
He swallowed the berries, choking as they went down his throat. His captive released him then and he fell to his knees. He spit out what he could, but he knew it was no use.
"Now, now, don't worry none, lass," his captor addressed Cassandra, who was doing a great job of cursing him to hell and back. "If ya truly love him, if ya truly trust him, ya can save him." He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
"You're sick," Cassandra grounded out the words. "Why are you doing this?"
The man chuckled. "Ya really don't know. How quaint. Ya are a vampire hunter and he is a vampire. The two of ya should never be and yet…" He tapped his chin with a forefinger. "Perhaps the odds will be in y'all's favor."
"What are you nattering on about?" Tremayne choked out. His insides were sizzling like hell fire. He had enough of this southern imposter, whoever he might be.
"Well, Miss Cassandra Hayes will ya save him, or should I just take his head and be done with it? It's your choice."
Her gaze shifted to Tremayne. She didn't take her eyes off him. "What do I need to do?"
Tremayne swore his captor sighed in relief. "It's simple, really," the man said. "Ya must let him drink from ya, is all."
"No," Tremayne bit out. He would not allow it. It stood against all she believed in.
Cassandra ignored his outcry. "This will save him?" she asked.
"Aye." His captor nodded and his lips curved. "Ya do trust him not to drain ya, right?"
"Damn you." Tremayne lunged for the man, but he kicked him away.
"I would hurry," the man insisted. "He won't have long before the iron and the poison from the mistletoe create too much damage to his system. Your blood would prove useless then."
Cassandra shrugged free from the other man who held her captive, but in truth, the man let her go.
She hurried over to Tremayne and knelt beside him. She helped to sit him up and he leaned against the wall. She pushed up her sleeve to expose her wrist. "I'm offering, Tremayne."
"No," their captive said, and she turned to stare at him. "He must drink from your neck."
The sick bastard was toying with them, making them jump like puppets on a string. This ended now. "I won't drink from her," Tremayne spat.
The leader clicked his tongue. "Ya either feed or she can watch ya die. Love must be both ways, aye? Prove your love, Tremayne, by showing her ya can maintain restraint when drinking her blood. Prove to her that ya aren't the fiend she believes ya to be." He glanced at Cassandra. "Ya say ya love him. Prove your trust by giving yourself over to him."
Tremayne met Cassandra's gaze. "You do not have to do this. Let me go. I do not fear death."
Her hands cupped his face and she kissed him, all her love pouring into him, into his soul.
The sound of their captor's chortle broke the magical moment. They both stared at him and the man chuckled again as he gestured toward the wall.
Tremayne did not have to glance up to know the offensive mistletoe hung above their heads, taunting them to kiss.
"Do ya not see the irony here?" Their captor continued to chuckle at their expense, but when they did not join in on the mirth, he shook his head. "No sense of humor. Well, Cassandra, what will it be? Death to the vampire scum, or will it be
life to the man ya love?"
Cassandra didn't answer him. She leveled her gaze on Tremayne. "I trust you." She brushed her hair away from her neck and tilted her head.
Tremayne squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted her. He wanted to drink from her, but not like this. Not because she'd been forced. It may not be by his hand, but it was still the same thing. "I won't do it."
She opened her eyes and looked at him. "You have to."
"I won't." He shook his head. "I'd rather die than force you to do something you loathe."
She scooted closer, her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her. "I give myself freely. Do you hear me? I will not lose you, dammit!" She hauled off and slapped him then, hard, and with purpose.
His head snapped to the side and he stared at her in disbelief.
"Stop being a martyr." She slapped him again, and again, until he grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground. He was on top of her, securing her hands above her head before he realized what he was doing. He stopped and stared at her, his breath hard and labored. His fangs exposed, lengthened and ready to use.
"Do it," she challenged him. "Please, I want you to," she added, tears springing to her eyes and pooling.
He couldn't hold back any longer. "Forgive me." He buried his fangs into her neck. Her blood pooled into his mouth, sweet and smooth. He released her hands, hoping she'd push him away, but she didn't fight him. She pulled him into her embrace, her hand gently caressing his head and encouraging him to take. He did, but not so much that it would endanger her. He pulled away and licked the wound closed, healing it with his saliva.
He sat up and pulled her onto his lap. She leaned her forehead against his.
"Brava, brava," their captor clapped his hands. "This is one for the books."
"What?" Cassandra turned and stared at the empty room. The door stood ajar, beckoning to them. "I don't understand. That's it? They played their sick game, and now they're letting us go?"
"Don't act so disappointed," Tremayne said. "And they didn't exactly let both of us go." He lifted his hand and the chains rattled in protest.
Cassandra flew to her feet, ready to race after their kidnappers, but her feet slid to a halt at the door. She reached for something, but Tremayne did not know what it was until she turned to face him, revealing a chain with a key dangling from the end. She strode toward him. "We need to get you out of here."
He stopped her movements, making her look at him. "Thank you for believing in me."
She gave a slight nod. Then her hunter persona fell back into place. "I'm going to hunt those bastards down and kill them."
He didn't bother telling her he knew where they lived. With their captor's parting words, he knew who had taken them, and the silent enforcer… He had his suspicions.
Cassandra could stake them later. He would have a word with them first.
Chapter Forty
Cassandra glanced at Tremayne who added a snowflake ornament to the Christmas tree. Her heart swelled with the love she had for this vampire … this man.
Tremayne had surprised her this evening with the tree – one planted in a clay pot. They couldn't harm the tree spirits, after all. He'd also purchased ornaments of various kinds: homemade and store-bought sparkly baubles.
"Would you like to put the star on the top?" she asked as she reached for the glittering gold ornament from the box.
"Sure, why not?" He shrugged.
With the finishing touches completed, they stood back to admire their handiwork.
"Not bad," she said. This would be their first Christmas together, hopefully one of many.
"Aye, lovely." Tremayne's voice was raw and low, making her glance at him. His gaze slid over her and his light eyes shone brighter. She even caught a bit of fang when he smiled and that adorable dimple winked.
"Well, aren't you just the charmer?" She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for this." She gestured toward the tree. "I know it's not your thing."
"It was my pleasure and..." He shrugged. "It was kind of fun." He pulled her closer for a more thorough kiss. "Are you sure you're ready to meet my family?" he asked, his brows furrowing.
"You don't have to worry," she told him. "I won't stake them as they enter the house – that would be rude," she teased.
He harrumphed. "I'm hiding your stakes until after they've gone," he teased right back.
Her family would have a group coronary if they knew she was spending the holidays with the vampire she was supposed to eliminate. However things worked out in her favor. Her parents were still in Europe, and needed help on a tough case. Her brothers had taken an unexpected trip to Ireland to hunt down a kelpie who'd made a popular lake its hunting ground.
Her family was old world. Sure, there were monsters that needed slaying, but then there were some preternatural beings that were decent and caring. She had proof of that first hand. Slipping her arms around Tremayne's muscled back, she indulged in another kiss and, boy, could this vampire make her toes curl with his caresses.
The doorbell chimed and she sighed into his mouth. "More later?"
"Oh aye, that's a promise."
She moved from Tremayne's embrace to smooth down her dress. She usually wore slacks with pockets; they were better to conceal weapons, but tonight she wanted to make a good impression on a family of vampires. She wanted the Graystones to like her.
"You look beautiful," Tremayne whispered as he nibbled her ear with a kiss. He had yet to drink from her again, but he would – eventually.
Tremayne was proving a patient lover, teaching her his ways and what it meant to be an Oiche Sith. Even if she weren't involved with a vampire, she'd find the history fascinating. It was in her blood – so to speak – to know all there was about vampires. Tremayne trusted her and didn't hold back. Trust was the foundation to a relationship. Without it, a relationship was doomed.
At the door, she threw him a quick smile. There was no going back now. She swung the front door open.
Tremayne made the introductions. The tall, dark haired vampire with blue eyes took her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "The charmer is Bram and his lovely mate … wife," Tremayne corrected, "…is Adryanna."
Adryanna was beautiful with hair the color of fall leaves. Her lips curved in a friendly manner, immediately putting Cassandra's worries at bay. Tremayne had told her Adryanna had once been human – centuries ago.
"I am so glad to meet the woman who has captured Tremayne's heart." Adryanna pulled her into a warm embrace.
The last to be introduced was Sheerin, a studious looking man with hair that could almost be called white. If he hadn't been a blood drinker, he would be sporting thick glasses and a pocket protector, but all vampires held a certain allure, even the nerdy vamps. And by no means would this vampire be tame. He was as lethal as the rest of his family. Of this, she was certain.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, lass." Sheerin bowed and gave her a smile.
For a moment, she had a feeling she'd met him before, but before she could decipher where, Adryanna spoke.
"It's been ages since I've seen a Christmas tree. You must show me yours."
Cassandra glanced at Tremayne with a raised brow. So he'd told his family about the tree. Tremayne gave her a sheepish grin. She let Adryanna drag her away, leaving the men to converse.
* * * * *
Tremayne waited until the women were in the other room before he confronted his cousins. They both looked mighty pleased with themselves, the eejits.
"Lovely, lovely hunter you've captured," Sheerin said.
Shakespeare trotted in from the other room and growled, baring his teeth. Bram hissed back and the hound plopped down on his haunches with a whine.
"Seems Shakespeare didn't like how you treated him the last time he saw you both," Tremayne said. He had to carry the hound home after the ordeal in their makeshift prison.
"Whatever do you mean?" Bram feigned innocence, but the vampire was a far cry from being blameless.
"I know it was the two of you that kidnapped me and Cassandra."
Sheerin teetered on the balls of his feet. "I came up with the sedatives and the idea to use mistletoe."
"This one's for the books," Tremayne quoted with sarcasm. "So help me if I end up in one of your experiment journals, Sheerin –" He shook his fist at him. "You chained me with iron and cattle prodded me, dammit. Kicked me in the ribs, too. I wasn't congratulating you. And what was with that lousy southern accent? That in itself proved more painful than anything else."
"Y'all didn't like it?" Sheerin teased.
"No, I didn't like it. I didn't like any of it."
Bram clasped his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. "My dear cousin, but you shall." He gestured behind him and Tremayne turned to see Cassandra standing in the living room, the lights from the tree, glittering behind her like faeries casting an enchantment. She laughed at something Adryanna said and her face beamed with happiness.
She must have sensed his gaze. Her eyes sought his with such love his heart clenched in response.
Bram slapped his back. "Aye, you can thank us later."
"Happy Yuletide, cousin," Sheerin said. "Or is it Merry Christmas?" Sheerin shook his head as he strode beside Bram to join the ladies, still discussing the appropriate well wish he should use for the holiday.
Shakespeare padded over to him and nudged his hand with his nose. He rubbed his trusty companion behind his ear. Cassandra excused herself from Adryanna and sauntered toward him. He loved the way her hips swayed with each sure step. Reaching him, she looped her arm through his. "Your family seems…"
"Intense," he finished for her."
She chuckled. "Yes, but wait until you meet mine."
He groaned, but he couldn't help but smile as he leaned down to claim her lips. After what his family put them through, how bad could it be to bring in the New Year with a family of vampire slayers?
The End
Enjoy a sneak peek at Flowers and Fangs, (Stake and Dust series, Book II).
Chapter One
Stake and Dust (Stake and Dust series, Book I) Page 19
