by Katie May
But of course, we had never been properly introduced.
He stared at me as intensely as I stared at him.
“It tingles,” he whispered hoarsely, scratching at his arm.
I raised my brow before understanding dawned. According to lore, when a Vampire met his mate, his skin began to itch. It was what happened to Mali when she had first come into contact with Atta...and Zack.
“It tingles. My blood tingles like fairies spelled me. Why won’t it stop?” Almost absently, his nails dug into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. It was only then that I noticed the numerous scars adorning his pale arm.
Did he do that to himself?
Horror filled me, immediately dissipating any ill-feelings or fears I felt towards the Vampire. I grabbed at his hand, the one scratching his skin, and held it between both of mine.
“Stop that!” I demanded.
He froze, muscles contracting, before his eyes met mine. They were alight with wonder and awe. Reverence. All of which I didn’t deserve.
“Z?” he croaked. As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached with his free hand and brushed at my mane of curls. It took him a few tries - his hand kept shaking - before he was able to push one of my golden tresses behind my ear.
“Jax?” I said his name hesitantly. For the first time I had known him, there was coherence in his eyes. It was as if the pieces to the puzzle clicked. He stared at me as if I held all the answers to his questions, as if I was shrouded in a golden light.
Instantly, self-consciousness filled me, and I stepped away.
The coherence disappeared from his eyes immediately, and he too stepped back.
“I have five fingers on one hand. Four on the other. Five plus four equals nine. And nine is the number. I heard the devils talking. Five plus four equals nine. Nine fingers. We need nine fingers,” he rambled, pulling at his hair. His eyes flitted from my face, to my shoes, to the building behind me, before resting once more on me. This time, he didn’t meet my eyes. He seemed to be looking anywhere but.
When his eyes lowered to my cleavage, I knew he didn’t mean it as sexual. He was just desperate for something, anything, to stare at.
What the hell happened to him?
“The voices keep talking. And talking. And talking.” In a blur of movements, he whacked his closed fist against his head. “Stupid. They call me stupid. But I need them to stop.”
Tears welled in his eyes, and he finally met my gaze pleadingly. “Please make it stop.”
We were garnering attention from the humans - and the few Nightmares - scattered about. Frowning, I gripped Jax’s hand and pulled him into the house. As I stepped over the threshold, taking in the furnitureless room and peeling wallpaper, the memories didn’t bombard me as they once would’ve. They would no doubt come in time, but right then, I needed to focus on Jax.
He had stopped babbling and now followed me wordlessly into a room that once served as a living room. There was only one window, facing the alleyway, so I didn’t have to be afraid we would be looked in on. Surprisingly, the ugly floral couch S had bought still sat in the center of the room, collecting dust on the silver tarp. I had thought for sure it would’ve been stolen or destroyed.
Releasing Jax’s hand, I removed the tarp, coughing at the onslaught of dust particles hanging stagnant in the air.
“Sit,” I instructed Jax. He muttered something under his breath - something about toenails - before tentatively perching himself on the edge of the couch. He held himself rigid, back straight, as if he feared what his proximity would do to me. I appreciated his consideration.
There was no denying I was still wary around Nightmares.
“Um…” What does one say to an obviously crazed Vampire? I couldn’t just damn well ask if he wanted a refreshment.
The thought made me snort out a laugh. I pictured myself bleeding over a coffee cup, a serene smile on my face as I discussed mundane things like the weather with the crowned prince of Vampires.
“The voices whisper,” Jax said urgently. He shifted closer, his knee a hair’s breadth away.
“The voices?” I asked slowly.
One thing was becoming abundantly clear: Jax needed help. More help than someone like me, a mere human with no substantial knowledge of the Nightmare World, could give him.
“Nine fingers. Five fingers plus four fingers equals nine fingers.”
“Jax,” I said soothingly. I was momentarily startled by my own voice. When had I ever sounded that...loving? “I don’t understand what you’re saying. You have ten fingers. See?” I took his hand, absently stroking each finger. Once I reached the tenth, I dropped his hand.
He let out a grunt of impatience.
Speaking slowly, deliberately, as if talking to a child, he repeated, “Five plus four equals nine.”
He reached for my hand once more, and I let him, mentally reveling in how small he made me feel. How delicate. His calloused hand engulfed my little one. That wasn’t to say I didn’t have calluses and scars of my own, because I did, but he made me feel...vulnerable. Innocent.
His breath left him, and his ramblings ceased. He stared down at our clasped hands, dozens of emotions flashing across his face. Shock. Astonishment. Excitement.
Clarity.
“Did I ever tell you that I hate being what I am? Who I am? Or is it whom?” I rambled. Putting a finger to my chin, I waited a beat before continuing. Outside, the rasping wind toyed with the shutters, opening and closing them at intermittent intervals. “Did you notice how many people were outside? How many doors? How many windows? How many vehicles?”
His nose crinkled adorably. That was not a word I would normally associate with any male, least of all a Nightmare, but it fit him.
“Who would notice that?” he asked somewhat dazedly.
“Twenty-four people. Seven doors. Eighteen windows. Two vehicles,” I said, ticking them off on my fingers. “It’s my job to see everything. To know everything. To hear everything. And…” I shrugged helplessly. “It’s daunting.”
“Daunting?” he parroted. Once more, that delicate brown eyebrow arched.
“Daunting,” I said with a firm nod. “I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, now more so than ever.” Throwing my head back, I released a humorless laugh. Jax continued to watch me, eyes narrowed, but did not interrupt. “I hated you guys for as long as I could remember. The seven princes. Now, look at me. You guys are my mates.”
The world really did have a sick sense of humor.
His thumb padded against my knuckles, the barest of grazes, as he stared upwards. His expression was almost contemplative, as if he was attempting to solve a difficult chemistry formula. After a moment, he lowered his head and met my eyes. I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.
“I understand what you’re saying,” he said after a long moment of silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. Just long.
“Huh?” I asked.
A brilliant grin took over his face. “I understand what you mean,” he repeated. And then he laughed, a jovial sound that went straight to my core. “Tell me more!”
The poor Vamp really had lost his mind.
At a loss for words, I gestured around me with my free hand.
“I used to live in this house,” I admitted.
“Did you, my love?” he asked, that smile still firmly in place.
What was even happening?
It felt...natural speaking with Jax. As if we were longtime friends instead of virtual strangers. I knew it was the mate bond causing that inherent reaction, but it still unnerved me. It wasn’t normal to feel this comfortable with a Vampire.
Then again, nothing about my life had ever been normal.
“With S,” I said with a nod. It no longer hurt to say his name.
I envisioned his face then: eyes crinkling with his smile and a shock of brown hair.
“S…” Jax said the name, face twisting oddly. It wasn’t jealousy necessarily - I wasn’t sure if he
was even capable of thinking such a normal emotion - but something that made me almost suspicious. “Was that your human lover?”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” I said stiffly. Maybe I should. Maybe I should air my dirty laundry for the entire world to see. Maybe I should tell him I killed the last man I loved and to stay clear of me.
I should...but I was selfish.
From outside, muted voices reached me. Their words were mostly inarticulate, but I managed to gather a few important words and phrases.
Z. Prince Jax. Aaliyah.
Releasing Jax’s hand, I jumped like my body was on fire. Before he could protest, I grabbed the blade out of my shirt sleeve and held it up, aiming it towards the door.
“Monsters are coming,” Jax whispered softly. He began to mutter under his breath, but I no longer heard him. Instead, I focused on the door. Waiting.
Ready.
It blew off its hinges, shattering against the back wall.
A young man entered, eyes livid and a cruel grin on his face. Immediately, I catalogued him as a Mage.
He lifted his hand, and I was thrown across the room, back ricocheting off the wood. Pain erupted in my spine, but I shakily got back to my feet.
There were a few rules when fighting a Mage, but I only ever focused on one.
Take him out as soon as possible.
The longer you remained fighting, the more power he was able to collect and use. Mages, unless they were using potions and talisman, relied heavily on internal magic. They could gather this magic from anything - nature, sex, blood. It all depended on the type of magic they wielded. It was for this reason, I suspected, that a Mage couldn’t get erect after he had come into contact with his mate. The powers that be didn’t want them replenishing their magic with anyone other than their fated mate.
Before the asshole could draw more power into him, I charged forward, knife raised. Quickly, I slammed the blade into his shoulder. I had meant to hit his heart, but he had moved at the last second.
Grunting, he pulled the dagger out of his skin, blood dripping down the blade. I kneed him in the stomach, simultaneously reaching for my second dagger in my other sleeve.
Dimly, I was aware of Jax fighting against two Vampires behind me. With Vampires the rules were different: don’t get too close, especially if you were human. One blow to the head with a Vampire’s strength had the capacity to decapitate you.
“What does Aaliyah want with me?” I asked, blocking each blow. I had no doubt the she-bitch had sent them as she had sent Zack. He swiped the knife - the knife I had used on him - and I deftly backed out of its offending arc.
Balancing the copper handle of the second knife in my palm, holding it the way one would hold a violin bow, I jabbed it into his stomach when I saw an opening. He grunted, doubling over.
“Why are you fighting?” he hissed, slamming an elbow into my side. I made an oomf sound, pain emitting off of me in tangible waves.
And the asshole wondered why I was fighting?
We parried, each consecutive hit causing my strength to wane. There was always one immense problem when fighting Nightmares. They were supernatural beings, descended from the Devil himself, and I was only human.
A particularly hard hit sent me staggering backwards, landing on a pile of cut glass.
His hair was blowing rapidly in a breeze I couldn’t feel, his power manifesting itself physically. I knew I was seconds away from dying...or whatever else was going to happen to me. This Aaliyah chick was persistent, I would give her that.
I snapped my eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable pain, before I heard a cuss and a gurgle. Unbidden, one eye opened as I took in the room. Almost immediately, I saw Jax, panting heavily. Two Vampires laid dead at his feet. He looked unscathed, thankfully, but slightly tired.
But it wasn’t him who had saved me.
My eyes flickered past the Mage, now spitting out blood as his hands desperately grabbed at his throat. He fell to his knees, eyes blank, before falling over.
Dead.
T smiled at me, spinning a long katana sword.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here, little sister?”
FIVE
Z
T smiled at me, showcasing row after row of perfectly white teeth.
He was handsome, with strawberry blond hair and two dimples that appeared when he smiled. It also didn't hurt that he looked similar to his brother, S.
Despite the similarities, T and I had never had a romantic relationship. Maybe, at one point, we had feelings for each other, but they never happened at the same time. He quickly became a close friend of mine, if not a brother figure to me.
Seeing him standing there, a singularly beautiful smile lighting up his face and blood dripping down the knife he held, caused my own grin to widen.
"T," I whispered, pulling myself off the ground and wrapping my arms around him. He staggered under my weight before returning my hug enthusiastically. His arms comforted me, warmth emanating in palpable waves through his black shirt and skintight jeans. Just as quickly as he grabbed me, he released me, shoving me behind him. He raised his dagger and brandished it threateningly.
At Jax.
My Vampire mate's head was tilted curiously to the side. His wild eyes flickered from my face to T’s and then to the body on the ground, never staying on one area longer than a second. His perfect, cherry red lips tilted up.
"I see there is a dead body," he mused, carefully stepping over said dead body. Before I could scream - whether it would be directed at Jax to stop moving or T not to hurt him, I didn’t know - T exploded. My fingers feebly grasped at air as he charged at Jax, knocking him to the ground.
"STOP!" I screamed, running forward and grabbing T's shoulder. The dagger paused mere centimeters from Jax's neck.
T threw me a bewildered look over his shoulder.
"Don't hurt him," I said, kneeling down. My hand, with a life of its own, stroked Jax's hair. My eyes catalogued each and every injury on his body, mentally planning how I would make the already dead Vampires pay. There were two bruises on both of his arms and a nasty cut beneath his eye. His leg oozed blood, but I was unable to see the extent of that injury. Other than that, he appeared fine, if not slightly confused with the knife dangerously close to his artery.
There were only a few ways you could kill a Vampire, but a beheading was one of them. Most Nightmares were able to heal themselves, particularly Shifters and Vampires who had a higher resilience against certain weapons. But a head shot? Even a heart shot?
Fatal.
I didn't want to think of that word. And I didn't want to think of why I didn't want to think of that word.
"Who the hell is he?" T asked, but he finally relented and removed his knife. Jax's breaths sawed in and out, and he scrambled backwards, away from the offending object. He began to mutter under his breath, words inarticulate. I could've sworn I heard him whisper a name, a female's name, and jealousy roared inside of me. I quickly smothered that emotion down, focusing instead on T.
"His name is Jax," I said breezily, willing him to drop the topic. Unfortunately, I had never been so lucky. T's eyes widened imperceptibly, face tightening. It didn't take long for understanding to dawn, and his expression turned from contemplative to murderous. I was unfamiliar seeing such an emotion on his face...directed at me.
"Jax," he repeated snidely. "As in, the Prince of Vampires?" Without waiting for me to respond, he advanced on me. "The one you were supposed to fucking kill?"
Well, when he put it like that...
"It's complicated," I said, hating how much of an excuse those words seemed to be. But what else could I say? It was complicated. This mission went from being black and white to many shades of grey. No, not grey. The world had suddenly turned colorful, like a brilliant rainbow obscuring my vision. I hadn't realized how long I had been living in the darkness, seeing things through tunnel vision. S's death had killed me, but slowly, these men - my mates - were piecing me back t
ogether.
And I fucking hated it.
"It's complicated," T mocked. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. With a shuddering breath, he focused back on me. "Where's Diego and Mali?"
His words were the wakeup call I needed. Immediately, my muscles tensed, and my hands clenched into fists. Try as I might, all I repeatedly saw was the blade meant for me running through Diego's chest. The tears in Mali's eyes as she realized her mate had killed one of her best friends. The fear contaminating the air.
"Fuck," T whispered, reading my expression without me having to say a word. "I'm so sorry, Z."
Instinctively, he reached for me.
And instinctively, Jax pounced.
The Vampire stood between me and T, eyes blazing. T staggered back a step, and his hand gripped the hilt of his dagger.
"Don't touch her," Jax hissed. I couldn't see his face, but he held his body rigidly. The muscles in his back jumped as I placed my hand placatingly on his shoulder.
"Jax, it's okay," I whispered soothingly, aware that T was watching our exchange with narrowed eyes. "He's not going to hurt me."
Jax's breathing was heavy, erratic, and he still did not relax. It was moments like that when I remembered Jax wasn't just my mate, but a predator. A Nightmare. A Vampire. His entire species was designed to hunt and kill prey. He was the monster that would hide in the shadows, lurk beneath beds, sink its fangs into unsuspecting humans.
It was times like that when I remembered he wasn't human.
Stories had one fact wrong.
Vampires were able to stand in sunlight, despite contrary belief. They just preferred the darkness. No one knew for certain, but it was rumored that their powers became stronger at night, under the watchful eye of the moon. Not even Mali could confirm or deny this. The rumor solely focused on the royal family. For normal Vampires, night or day didn't make a difference.
As the sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting the golden streaks in Jax's hair and the muscles accentuated beneath his thin shirt, I wondered if those rumors were true. In the day, Jax was powerful. A beast of a man just waiting to run rampant on the unsuspecting population. I couldn't even imagine him with more power.
