by Becky Allen
“I’m not leaving,” Zack said. “I like it here.”
“Then I’ll go.”
“I’m not afraid of your father.”
“Well, you should be!”
“Calm down, girl. There’s no reason for you to be so upset. And no reason for your father to be angry with me. I haven’t done anything except probably save your life. I’d think he’d be grateful for that.”
He was right. She was overreacting because Zack was one of the Others. But she couldn’t help it. Her father might accept her dating a mortal; dating someone he considered an enemy of her people—even if that someone had saved her life—was something else entirely.
She shook her head. She had to calm down. Zack was right. He had saved her from whatever nefarious plot Daryn had devised. Surely that would tip the scales in Zack’s favor.
Besides, she loved it here and she didn’t want to leave.
And she didn’t want to leave Zack, either.
“Well, now that we’ve got that settled,” Zack said, “I think it’s time we got down to some serious kissing.”
All thoughts of Daryn and her father disappeared at the thought of kissing Zack. “Oh, you do, do you?”
“Don’t you?” He leaned forward. “Or are you going to start that whole ‘I can’t see you anymore’ nonsense again.”
“It isn’t nonsense. My father’s a force to be reckoned with. If . . .”
A single thought carried Zack from the chair to the sofa. “I don’t want to talk about your father, or vampires, or Others,” he said, drawing her into his arms. “I don’t want to think about anything but you.”
“Zack . . .”
“Shh.”
With a sigh, she relaxed in his arms.
“That’s better,” he murmured. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, softly, slowly. His tongue traced her lower lip, delved inside for a taste and then withdrew, moving to lave the side of her neck. Her stomach tightened when she felt the light scrape of his fangs against her skin.
“Zack . . .”
“Just a taste, love, that’s all.”
She rarely drank from a living source. Being only half vampire, she lacked the inescapable need to hunt, but there was no denying that taking blood from mortals was a pleasurable sensation. No one had ever taken her blood. What would it be like, to be prey instead of predator? To feel Zack’s fangs at her throat? Driven by curiosity, she canted her head to the side, giving Zack access to her neck, only then realizing that she was putting her life in his hands. He was older, stronger. If he decided to drain her dry, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.
He must have sensed her sudden apprehension, because he said, “It’s all right, Katy. You don’t have to do it if you’ve changed your mind.”
“I haven’t,” she said, and it was true. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to nourish Zack with her life’s blood.
Murmuring her name, he bent his head to her neck.
She had expected it to hurt, at least a little, but there was only a rush of warmth when his fangs pierced her skin, and then a flood of pleasure that was sensual beyond belief. Heat flowed through her, bringing all her senses to life, pooling deep within the very heart of her being, stealing the strength from her limbs, until all she wanted was to lose herself in his touch.
She felt bereft when he lifted his head. “Are you done so soon?”
“I’d better stop while I can.”
She touched her neck where his fangs had been. “That felt wonderful. Does it feel that way for mortals?”
“It depends on who’s doing the biting. Some vampires make it pleasant, others take what they want without any thought for their prey. Haven’t you ever bitten anyone?”
“Of course! Well, not often,” she admitted.
“Well, I can’t imagine you tearing into anybody, so they probably enjoyed it. Can you read their minds?” At her nod, he said, “Next time, listen to their thoughts.”
“Can I drink from you?”
“Sure, darlin’.”
She hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. It was one thing to hunt for mortal prey, to drink from a stranger and then wipe all memory of it from his mind, quite another to drink from someone you cared for, especially when that someone was a vampire.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked.
“No.”
Drawing her into his arms again, he kissed her, his hands moving slowly, seductively, along her spine, traveling up and down her thigh.
His touch awakened her desire, and her hunger. She rained kisses on his cheeks, the hollow of his throat, until she found the soft, sweet place just beneath his left ear, and bit down. She had never tasted vampire blood. It was a high like no other. Or maybe it was simply because it was Zack’s blood. Whatever the reason, she knew one taste wouldn’t be enough. Would never be enough . . .
“Easy, girl,” Zack said.
But she wasn’t listening.
Muttering an oath, he grasped a handful of her hair and gave a sharp tug.
A low growl rose in Kaitlyn’s throat.
Damn, maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. “Katy darlin’, that’s enough.”
It was the endearment that broke through the red haze of her hunger. Lifting her head, she stared at Zack in horror. “I didn’t want to stop,” she said, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. “I could have killed you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What if I hadn’t stopped?”
He laughed softly. “I don’t want to brag, darlin’, but I think I could take you down if I had to.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“No.” He drew her into his arms and brushed the hair away from her face. “This is the first time you’ve really surrendered to your thirst, isn’t it?”
She nodded, still embarrassed. “I don’t know what came over me.” When her father had taken her hunting the first time, she had been careful to keep her hunger in check, perhaps because she knew he was watching, perhaps because she was afraid of losing control, of taking too much. Whatever the reason, she had never let her hunger get out of hand. At the Fortress, she preferred to drink from Northa or one of the other women. While living at Wolfram, she had occasionally hunted in the city; since coming to America, she had survived on bagged blood.
“It’s all right, Katy,” Zack assured her. “No harm done.”
“How do you stop when what you really want to do is take it all?”
“Willpower, darlin’. Lots and lots of willpower. And practice,” he added with a grin. “Don’t forget, I’ve got a couple of hundred years on you.”
A slow smile spread over her face. “Maybe I could practice on you again sometime.”
“Anytime, Katy darlin’. Anytime at all.” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “There’s a bond between us now.”
“What kind of bond?”
“A blood bond. Can’t you feel it?” It bound them together. Wherever she went in the future, he would always be able to find her.
“I don’t think so. What does it feel like?”
“It’s hard to explain.” His mind brushed hers experimentally; he still couldn’t read her thoughts, but he sensed her curiosity, her trepidation. “Try reading my mind.”
She sat up, her brow furrowed in concentration, and then she shook her head. “Nothing. Can you read my mind?”
“Not exactly, but I can feel the link between us,” he said, pulling her into his arms again. “I’ll always be able to find you. The bond between us will grow stronger every time we share blood. Perhaps one day the link will go both ways.”
Nodding, she rested her head against his shoulder. It just wasn’t fair, she thought. She should be the stronger one. She had been born a vampire, after all, and yet, because of her mortal blood, she lacked many of the preternatural powers the rest of her people possessed.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, it seemed even the Others had stronger powers than she did.
Ch
apter 15
Kaitlyn dreamed of Zack that night. No surprise, considering the effect his kisses—and his blood—had had on her senses. In her dream, they were walking hand in hand near the lake, pausing now and then to kiss in the shadows. A big gray cat followed them from a distance, its yellow eyes glinting golden in the light of the moon, its tail swishing with anger.
In the way of dreams, the scene shifted abruptly and she was in Zack’s bed, in Zack’s arms. He was kissing her to distraction when his eyes suddenly went bloodred. She screamed when his teeth turned to fangs.
In the blink of an eye, the gray cat sprang up on the bed. Back arched, the cat lunged at Zack, but Zack rolled out of the way, his body shifting, transforming almost instantly into a large black wolf.
Fangs bared, hackles raised, ears flat, feline and canine glared at each other, and then the wolf sprang forward....
Kaitlyn woke to the sound of her own screams.
Breathing heavily, her body damp with sweat, she sat up, one hand pressed to her heart.
“Just a dream,” she muttered. But what if it foreshadowed a future event?
Rising, she pulled on her robe and went into the kitchen. After fixing a cup of coffee, she carried it into the living room. She needed to call her father, to tell him about Korzha’s attack. It wasn’t a conversation she was looking forward to.
Drake sat on the dais, his expression solemn as he glanced at the assembled council members. He had spoken to Kaitlyn on the phone earlier, listened intently as she informed him of Korzha’s treachery and how the man, Zack Ravenscroft, had destroyed Korzha.
Listening carefully, Drake had been certain there was a part of the story Kaitlyn was holding back, something about Ravenscroft, but he had not pressed her on the matter. He trusted Kaitlyn’s instincts, her loyalty to the coven. In due time, she would tell him the rest. He had suggested she come home immediately. She had refused, of course, but that was no surprise. He could have insisted, but something had warned him that would only make her more determined to stay.
Aware of the council watching him, wondering why he had summoned them, he stood, his gaze resting on each of the thirteen members in turn. All were related to him, bound by the blood of the same sire. The majority of the people in the Fortress were related to him.
“I have called you here this evening on a matter that concerns me personally, and perhaps the coven, as well,” Drake began. “Nadiya’s youngest son has been killed and she has gone missing. I have no evidence, nothing but a strong suspicion that she is plotting revenge against me, whether for the death of her youngest son, or for the death of the son that was slain in the attempted coup against my father.”
“That was more than twenty years ago,” Andrei said. “Why would she wait so long?”
Drake shook his head. “I have no idea. Perhaps it has taken her this long to formulate a plan, or to gather an army against me. One thing I do know, her youngest son is dead, killed by a man I do not know.”
“What man?” Gregor asked.
“The one Kaitlyn is dating. When she was attacked, the man, Ravenscroft, defended her and somehow managed to kill Korzha. Kaitlyn was vague on how this was accomplished.”
“You are certain young Korzha intended to do her harm?”
“Yes.” Drake resumed his seat. “Elena wishes me to order Kaitlyn home.”
“Do you think that is necessary?” Ciprian asked.
Drake shrugged. “I have not yet decided. I want each of you to contact the leaders of the other Fortresses. Find out if they know anything of Nadiya’s whereabouts, or if they have heard anything suspicious. Marku, I want you to see if you can locate her other children. They all seem to have dropped out of sight about the same time.”
Marku nodded. “It will be done.”
Drake glanced at the members of the council. “I want daily reports. And until we find out what she is up to, I suggest you warn your wives and children to stay close to the Fortress. That is all. The council is dismissed.”
Drake sat there for several moments. He had never cared for Nadiya. He thought her a cold, calculating woman, caring for no one but her own children. He had often wondered why his father had married her, and when he had found the courage to ask, Rodin had shrugged, then said, She is cold. She is selfish. But she is beautiful. And no one else will have her.
Drake’s opinion of Nadiya Korzha had not changed. How far would she go to avenge the deaths of her sons? What had been her intentions where Kaitlyn was concerned? It was obvious that young Korzha had been sent to keep an eye on Kaitlyn, but why? Were his instructions merely to watch her? Given what Kaitlyn had told him, that seemed unlikely. Had Korzha intended to kidnap Kaitlyn and hold her for ransom? Or had Nadiya intended to demand his life in exchange for his daughter’s? Knowing Nadiya, he thought it more likely that she planned to kill Kaitlyn, knowing the loss of his only daughter would cause him endless heartache, and more suffering than anything else she could do.
He grunted softly. Could Nadiya really be that cold-blooded? Surely she realized that if she harmed so much as a hair of Kaitlyn’s head, he would hunt her down and destroy her, no matter where she went, or how long it took.
Muttering an oath, he stalked out of the council chambers.
Whether she wished it or not, he feared it was time for Kaitlyn to come home.
The nightmare was still fresh in Kaitlyn’s mind when she woke the next afternoon. She hadn’t told her father that Zack was one of the Others. If she was lucky, her father and Zack would never meet, and her father would never discover the truth.
Later, standing in the shower, she was overcome with guilt for her omission. She had never kept anything from her father. Not that she had ever done anything truly horrible, but from the time she was a little girl, she had confessed her misdeeds—from sneaking a cookie before dinner to sneaking out of the house for a midnight swim with her girlfriends. She had never been inclined to try drugs or cigarettes. She had been curious about sex, of course, but not curious enough to experiment with any of the boys who had offered to enlighten her.
She turned off the shower and then, after drying off with a big fluffy towel, she went into the bedroom to get dressed. She had wanted to tell her dad about Zack, but doing so could put Zack’s life in danger, and that was something she simply couldn’t do.
She put on clean underwear, pulled on a pair of black sweats and a pink T-shirt, then ran a brush through her hair. Maybe it wasn’t just lust she felt for Zack, she mused as she went into the kitchen. Maybe it was love. She smiled as she put two slices of bread in the toaster. In love with Zack. The mere thought filled her with a delightful warmth from head to heel.
“I love him,” she said, hearing the wonder in her voice. “I love him.”
Hard on that realization came the unwanted thought that he might not love her in return, that he was just toying with her affection, that she was just another in a long string of women. After all, he had lived for centuries. He must have had dozens—hundreds—of women in that time. How could any woman resist him?
She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. And whether he loved her or not didn’t change the way she felt about him. He was gorgeous, yes, but he was also sweet and kind, and funny in his own way. He had been the soul of patience last night, not to mention brave, to let her drink from him. Even though he had insisted he hadn’t been in any danger, she might have drained him dry.
She wasn’t sure exactly what had transpired between Zack and Korzha since Zack had not elaborated, but it was obvious they had fought and Daryn had lost. Perhaps Zack had saved her life. At the risk of his own. She wondered again about Daryn Korzha’s intentions. What would her fate have been if Zack hadn’t come to her rescue the night Daryn drugged her? And why had Daryn attacked her in the first place?
Would she ever know?
She buttered the toast, daydreaming while she ate it—she pictured herself spending the rest of her life with Zack, maybe here, in the States, maybe in Romani
a, although she doubted there was much chance of that. Hatred for the Others was deeply embedded in her people. She shook her head. The war between her kind and the Others had ended centuries ago. It seemed an extraordinarily long time to carry a grudge.
She wondered if Zack liked being a vampire. What was it like, to have your whole world turned upside down?
She could relate, in a way. After all, her people were mortal for a time. Still, they knew the change was coming, knew it was normal and natural. There was no fear involved. Had Zack been afraid? Or was the change something he had wanted? If not, did he yearn to be mortal again?
Once the questions started, they just kept coming. Did he kill to survive? Did he miss the taste of food? He could tolerate wine, but what about milk and water? Had he ever been married? It was believed the Others couldn’t have children. If that was true, did he regret not being able to father a child?
He was much in her mind that day, whether she was trying to watch a movie, folding a load of laundry, or fixing an early dinner since she hadn’t bothered with lunch.
Time dragged. Finally, she picked up a book and settled down on the sofa to read.
She woke to the sound of someone knocking on the door. A glance at the window showed the sun was down. Smiling with anticipation, she ran a hand through her hair, then hurried to open the door.
“Zack, hi!”
He kissed her soundly. “Hi, yourself. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
“What’s on the agenda tonight?”
She shrugged. “I’m in the mood for a walk. How about you?”
“Fine by me.”
Something was up, Zack mused as they strolled down to the lake. He could sense the tension in her although he had no idea what was causing it. He didn’t think she was upset by what had happened last night. She had enjoyed it too much. Maybe she wanted another taste and was embarrassed to ask. No. He was pretty sure that wasn’t it.