Bound by Blood and Sand

by Becky Allen

  The three remaining vampires pulled back. They glanced at each other, their expressions uncertain.

  Zack resumed his human form. “Come on,” he said, motioning them forward. “Let’s finish it.”

  “She can fight her own bloody battles,” the tallest of the three said, and vanished from sight.

  Zack grinned at Sherrad. “One for you. One for me.” He lunged at the nearest vampire, his hand penetrating the man’s chest, ripping out his heart, before the vampire knew what hit him.

  The last vampire glanced from Sherrad to Zack and vanished from the room.

  Zack took a deep breath, the urge to kill fading. He glanced at Sherrad, but the vampire was looking at his daughter.

  Zack swore under his breath. Dammit! What must Kaitlyn be thinking? How would she ever think of him the same way after what she had just seen? The fighting had been brutal and bloody and he had gloried in it, would have killed a dozen more to protect the woman he loved.

  Fearing what he might see, Zack turned around.

  Kaitlyn stood with her back pressed to the wall, her face fish-belly white. Drops of bright crimson glistened wetly in her hair, on her face and her clothing. A drone lay at her feet, his neck broken. Had she killed him? Lord, he hoped not.

  Sherrad approached his daughter. Taking hold of the iron bolt in the wall, he jerked it free, then, ignoring the chain dangling from her ankle, he pulled Kaitlyn into his arms. She sagged against him, her face buried against his chest, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.

  Were they tears of relief, Zack wondered, or regret for killing a man? He shook his head. Whether she wanted any more to do with him or not, she was safe and that was all that mattered.

  Sherrad looked at Zack. “Let us go.”

  “You go on. I’ll take care of the bodies.”

  Sherrad nodded.

  A moment later, Zack was alone in the basement. He picked up two of the bodies and carried them up the stairs, came to an abrupt halt when he reached the living room.

  Someone—most likely Nadiya—had killed the elderly couple who owned the house. Their bodies lay side by side on the kitchen floor, both drained of blood.

  Zack stared at them for several moments. He hadn’t killed many people in the course of his existence as a vampire. Sure, there had been a few early on, before he learned to control his strength and his hunger. And a couple of hunters he had killed in self-defense. But he had never killed wantonly.

  “You’re going down, Nadiya,” Zack muttered. “Sooner or later, you’re going down.”

  Every dark cloud had a silver lining, he mused as he dropped the two dead vampires on the floor. Thanks to Nadiya’s cruelty, he wouldn’t have to bury the bodies. He found two cans of gas in the garage and carried them inside. He used the first can to douse the bodies of the vampires, splashed the second can on the floor of the living room and the kitchen, and set fire to the place.

  He stood outside for several minutes, watching it burn, before transporting himself back to Wolfram Castle.

  Kaitlyn stood in the shower, eyes closed as the hottest water she could stand sluiced over, washing away the blood and tissue that had splattered over her. Never in all her life had she imagined her father was capable of such violence, such brutality. She had seen Zack destroy Marius, of course, but still—the scene in the basement had been like something out of a slasher movie. So much blood and gore.

  And she had killed a man.

  She washed her hair twice, her body three times, and wondered if she would ever feel clean again.

  Stepping out of the shower, she dried off, then pulled on a furry bathrobe. Too restless to sit still, she paced the bedroom floor, unable to dispel the images of Zack and her father from her mind. She had grown up among vampires and never known they were capable of such carnage. She had watched her father change from a cat to a man and back again and thought it cute. But there had been nothing cute about Zack’s transformation into a wolf. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of him as he battled one attacker after another. In wolf form or his natural form, he had fought with a kind of lethal beauty that had been as mesmerizing as it was horrible.

  She was half vampire. Was she capable of such violence? The thought that she might be was frightening. She had rarely tapped into her vampire half, never tested the limits of her powers. True, she had killed a man tonight, but it had been swift and she had taken no pleasure in it. The fact that it had been self-defense made it only nominally easier to bear. She wondered if he had a wife and family, tried to tell herself it wasn’t her fault, but Nadiya’s. But the man was still dead, his blood on her hands.

  She had collapsed in her father’s arms when the battle was over. He represented home and security, but even as he had stroked her hair, she had been wishing it was Zack holding her tight, Zack whispering words of comfort in her ear.

  Now, alone in her room, she tried to come to grips with her mixed emotions. It was disconcerting, knowing that Zack and her father could kill so quickly, so efficiently. Still, it was comforting to know that the two men she loved the most could protect her, even when the odds were stacked against them. She knew the horror of what she had witnessed—the grotesque images of torn flesh, the sickly sweet smell of blood and death—was forever burned into her memory. And yet, the horror of it would fade, in time.

  The one thing she would never forget, she thought as she crawled into bed, the one truth that would forever remain engraved in her mind and her heart, was the knowledge that they both loved her enough to risk their lives for her.

  Drake and Zack were sitting in the main hall when Elena entered the room.

  “How is she?” Drake asked.

  “She’s asleep.”

  “Did you have any trouble removing the shackle from her ankle?”

  “No.” Elena shuddered. “I threw it away.”

  Drake nodded, his arm wrapping around Elena’s shoulders as she took a seat beside him.

  “Was it awful?” she asked.

  “Awful?” Drake glanced at Ravenscroft. “What do you think?”

  Zack shrugged. “I found it kind of exhilarating myself.”

  Elena stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Exhilarating?”

  “Yeah. I guess that doesn’t make me a very nice guy, but I don’t care. I’ll rip the heart out of anybody, male or female, who hurts Katy. And that includes Nadiya and anyone else she sends against us.”

  “You should have seen him,” Drake said, a note of admiration in his voice. “I have never seen anyone fight like that.” He clucked softly. “One minute he was a wolf, ripping out throats, and the next he was a vampire, ripping out hearts.”

  Elena shuddered. “Sorry, but I’m glad I missed it. Don’t get me wrong,” she added, looking at Zack. “I’m glad you were there, I just don’t think it’s something I’d want to watch . . . although that changing into a wolf thing must be something to see.”

  Zack looked at Sherrad, one brow raised in amusement. “Scarier than a cat, that’s for sure.”

  Elena grinned.

  Sherrad scowled at him.

  “So,” Zack said, “what’s our next move?”

  “What do you mean?” Elena asked. “Kaitlyn’s home safe. It’s over.”

  Zack glanced at Sherrad, but said nothing.

  “It is not over,” Drake said quietly. “It will never be over so long as Nadiya lives. She must be punished for her treachery. And Lucien, as well.”

  “What do you mean to do?” Elena asked.

  “I mean to confront them both.”

  Elena stared at her husband, her lips pressed tightly together.

  “I cannot let this go,” Sherrad said, seeing her disapproval. “The Fortress has been governed by the Sherrad family for thousands of years. My grandfather and my father fought to defend it. I will not surrender it without a fight.”

  “We can leave here,” Elena said. “Go somewhere else. To America. Or Canada.”

  “You and
Kaitlyn will be no safer there than you are here as long as Nadiya wants revenge. Next time she might vent her hatred on you. We were lucky to get Kaitlyn back alive. I will not risk her safety again. Or yours.” He looked at Zack. “Have you nothing to say?”

  “I think you’re right. I’m not sure how you plan to do it. Two against twelve wasn’t so bad. Two against Nadiya and Lucien’s army? I don’t know. That might be a stretch, even for me.”

  Chapter 34

  Lucien sat in what had once been Drake’s chair on the dais in the council chamber of the Carpathian Fortress, his hands gripping the arms as he stared at the two men before him.

  “Where is Drake now?” he asked curtly.

  Gavril, the taller of the two, shook his head. “I do not know. We were lucky to get out of there alive.”

  Lucien’s gaze shifted to Emilian. “Do you know where he is?”

  Clearing his throat, Emilian shifted from one foot to the other. “I left shortly after Gavril.”

  “And the girl?” Lucien asked. “Where is she?”

  Emilian shrugged.

  Lucien leaned back in his chair. Why had he ever listened to Nadiya? What had made him think they could pull this off? They had been safe only as long as Drake believed his daughter’s life was in danger. All bets were off now.

  Nadiya appeared as soon as he dismissed Gavril and Emilian. “It seems we need to come up with a new plan.”

  Lucien shook his head. “Why should I listen to you? You had the Sherrad heir and you lost her. I doubt we will get another chance at her.” He stood and began to pace the floor. “I thought you were going to kill her,” he muttered, talking more to himself than to Nadiya. “But it is better this way. Sherrad will be angry, but since his daughter is unharmed, he might . . .”

  “Stop babbling, you coward!”

  “This was a stupid idea from the beginning,” he snapped. “I never should have let you talk me into it.”

  “You wanted this place as much as I!”

  He stopped pacing. “I say we get out of here while we still can.”

  “And I say we stay!”

  Lucien shook his head. “Sherrad has his daughter back, but he will not just forget what we have done. Sooner or later, he will return and demand retribution.”

  Nadiya took several slow deep breaths. “And you will give it to him.”

  “Are you out of your mind? You do not expect me to meet him in combat? One-on-one?”

  “Of course not,” she said, smiling. “I will make sure you have plenty of backup.”

  Chapter 35

  Kaitlyn tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, unable to relax. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined herself back in that horrible basement, her ankle shackled to the wall, helpless to do anything but watch as Zack and her father fought a dozen men. At the time, she had given little thought to the man she had killed. True, it had been in self-defense, but her main thought had been that his death meant one less man for Zack and her father to defeat. Now, his face haunted her.

  Once they had returned to Wolfram, she hadn’t had a chance to talk to Zack. Her mother had followed her up to her room, making soft mothering noises as she helped her out of her bloodstained clothes, found the tools necessary to remove the shackle from her ankle. Kaitlyn knew her mother was worried about her. After all, that’s what mothers did. They worried. Assured that Kaitlyn was fine, Elena had gathered up her daughter’s clothes, together with the long chain, kissed her on the cheek, and left the room.

  Kaitlyn had been certain all she wanted was to go to bed and forget the whole terrible nightmare, but once in bed, sleep wouldn’t come. She wanted to be held, only it wasn’t her father’s arms she needed, but Zack’s.

  After another moment of indecision, she slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe. Her bare feet whispered on the carpet as she tiptoed down the hallway toward Zack’s room. Dawn was still a few hours away. She opened the door as quietly as she could, in case he was asleep, and stepped inside. Even in the dark, she could see that the bed was empty.

  She stood there a moment, wondering where he was. Had he gone hunting? She had no sooner thought of where he might be than she knew. Turning on her heel, she knew he was downstairs.

  She paused in the doorway of the great hall. He was sitting on one of the sofas, apparently lost in thought. Maybe he wanted to be alone. Maybe he didn’t want her there.

  “I want you,” he said, his voice a low rumble. Glancing over his shoulder, he beckoned for her to join him.

  It was all the invitation she needed. She sighed as his arm curled around her shoulders, drawing her close. “What are you doing here?” he asked, a lilt of surprise in his voice.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Me, either.”

  Her gaze moved over him. “Are you all right? You could have been killed.”

  He snorted softly. “Piece of cake, darlin’. But, not to worry. I’m too mean to die.” He grinned at her. “Of course, if your father finds you here, with me, at this time of the night . . .” There was no need to finish the sentence.

  “I think he’d better get used to the idea of you and me,” she retorted with a toss of her head. “Because I’m here to stay, unless you tell me to go.”

  His arms tightened around her. “No, not now.” He brushed her hair away from her neck, then rained soft kisses down the length of her throat. “Not ever.”

  “Zack . . .”

  “Shh. Just a little taste, okay?”

  She nodded, her heart suddenly beating triple time as his fangs brushed her skin. She wrapped her arms around him, her eyelids fluttering down as pleasure spread through her, hot and sweet, like honey warmed by the sun.

  When he drew back, she moaned softly. “That feels so wonderful.” She ran her fingertips along the side of his neck, her eyes taking on a faint red glow. “My turn?”

  “I’ve created a monster,” he said, grinning. “Just remember you can’t take it all.”

  Zack stroked Kaitlyn’s hair. Sharing blood with her was an extraordinary experience. She sighed softly in her sleep, a slight smile playing over her lips. She was curled up in his arms dreaming, he thought, dreaming of something nice, and he was just arrogant enough to believe he was the one who had put that smile on her face.

  Filled with a tenderness he had never felt before, Zack kissed her cheek, the curve of her throat, her eyelids. He toyed with the idea of carrying her up to his room and seducing her. It would be easy, so easy. If only she wasn’t a nice girl. If only he didn’t love her with every fiber of his being. But someday—someday she would be his, body and soul.

  A sudden heaviness in his limbs told him the sun would soon be chasing the night from the sky. His eyelids grew heavy, his breathing slowed.

  Time to put Kaitlyn to bed and seek his rest. Cradling her in his arms, he carried her up the stairs. He had just reached the door to her room when her mother appeared at the other end of the hallway.

  “Put your mind at ease, Elena. Everything’s okay. We were downstairs, talking, and she fell asleep on the sofa, that’s all.”

  “I believe you. I was just coming to make sure she’s all right. I guess I’m being overprotective, but with everything that’s happened . . .” She shrugged. “I can’t help it.”

  She opened the door to Kaitlyn’s room, then turned down the covers on the bed.

  Zack lowered Kaitlyn to the mattress, drew the covers over her, then bent down and kissed her cheek. “Sweet dreams, Katy darlin’,” he whispered.

  Elena regarded him a moment, then said, “I can never repay you for what you did. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. I’m in love with her.”

  “I know. She loves you, too.” It was easy to see why. He was tall and strong and handsome, loyal, willing to risk everything for the woman he loved.

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Elena replied honestly. “Everythin
g would be so much easier if she’d fallen in love with one of her own people. But I trust her judgment.”

  Zack nodded. “Good night, Elena.”

  “Good night.”

  Elena stood there a moment, gazing down at her daughter. How quickly the years had gone by. Her little girl was all grown up. Once upon a time was past. She just hoped Kaitlyn would find her own happily-ever-after.

  Kaitlyn woke in her own bed with no recollection of how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in Zack’s arms. She had hoped to wake up there—which probably wouldn’t have been very smart. No doubt her parents would go ballistic if they thought she was sleeping with Zack—an idea that grew more appealing with every passing day.

  She glanced at the clock on the nightstand—five P.M. She was the only one in the family who didn’t know instinctively what time it was, though she was able to internally discern whether it was night or day.

  Zack would be awake soon. She grinned, thinking how surprised he would be if she was in his bed when he awoke.

  Pleased by the idea, she threw back the covers and went into the bathroom, where she took a quick shower and washed her hair. After drying off, she applied her makeup and a dash of perfume, then spent the next twenty minutes trying to decide what to wear. Although she had taken all her favorite clothes to California, her closet at Wolfram was nowhere near empty.

  She decided on a pair of black skinny jeans and a cranberry-colored cashmere sweater. A nightgown would have been her first choice, but she didn’t have enough nerve to hop into his bed wearing something that blatantly said come-and-get-me.

  Barefooted, she padded down the hallway to Zack’s room, opened the door, and peeked inside.

  He was still asleep. She stood in the doorway, her gaze moving appreciatively over his broad shoulders and strong arms. A sheet covered him from the waist down; his bare feet poked out from under the covers. The thought that he might be naked under the sheet brought a rush of heat to her cheeks.