Blood Possession

by Tessa Dawn

  Neither brother responded.

  Pretending not to notice, Kagen sauntered out the door.

  To hell with it!

  He was grateful to be out of the stifling room.

  Unfortunately, the moment he stepped across the threshold, a new set of challenges awaited him in the receiving area: His brothers’ mates, Jocelyn and Ciopori, immediately rose to their feet; and Nachari’s young protégé, Braden Bratianu, who was curled up in a chair in the corner all by himself, looked up at him through bloodshot eyes.

  No one spoke a word, but their fear was palpable.

  “Nothing’s changed,” Kagen said in a rush. “Nachari is still…stable. I just need some air.”

  Jocelyn shot a sideways glance at Ciopori, and he knew that the females were interpreting his behavior the same way as his brothers had…

  Hell and damnation, he did not want the women to lose hope.

  He did not want Braden to lose hope.

  He was running a hundred miles an hour to stay ahead of his own fears so that he didn’t lose hope.

  But gods, he was tired. The situation was untenable, yet he couldn’t give up.

  Nachari couldn’t leave them.

  Not now. Not so soon after Shelby. Not ever! He would keep his body breathing for a hundred years if he had to—

  For the sake of Auriga, what was wrong with him? He was seriously messed up.

  “Healer?” Ciopori’s lyrical voice swept over him in a soothing caress as she took several steps forward and gently laid her hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled, eyeing the clinic’s front door. He had to get out of there. Now.

  “Brother,” she said more firmly, “look at me.” Her soft golden eyes sparkled with an unearthly amber light. “Let me see you, Kagen.” She sent a healing wave of energy so powerful into his body that it almost shook him where he stood, and he was unable to disengage from her spell. All at once, her subtle gaze became penetrating, and a deep, unspoken truth passed between them: Ciopori saw the extent of Kagen’s fear—the depth of his hopelessness—and she closed her eyes, breaking the connection.

  Does Marquis realize? she asked on a private telepathic line, no doubt wanting to shield Braden from their conversation.

  Kagen felt a strange, stinging sensation in his eyes and wondered what it was—surely, not tears? He stilled his body and forced himself to breathe evenly—draw a slow breath in, let a deep breath out—careful to contain his volatile emotions. Realize what, sister? he asked, biting his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood. There is nothing to realize. Nachari is coming back, and that is all.

  Kagen, Ciopori whispered compassionately in his mind, it’s okay if—

  I said, That is all.

  He leveled a harsh, unyielding glare at her, and then he turned toward the tall, slender nurse standing quietly in the corner. “I’ll be back shortly, Katia.” He spoke in an eerily quiet voice and motioned her inside the room with his head. “Stay with Nachari until I return.” Gently removing Ciopori’s hand from his shoulder, he regarded her one last time with a cordial nod. “I’ll see you later, sister,” he said.

  And then he walked briskly out the front door.

  Jocelyn Silivasi watched the brief interplay between Ciopori and Kagen with a heavy heart. “Oh, God,” she murmured as Ciopori sat back down.

  Ciopori nodded. “Indeed.”

  “They’re all coming completely apart?” She phrased it as a question, but she already knew the answer. Nathaniel had been a bastion of strength, but even he was certain to unravel soon if Nachari didn’t—

  “What?” Braden asked in a timid voice. “What is it? What isn’t Kagen telling us?”

  Ciopori drew her shoulders back like the regal princess she was. She raised her chin in a gesture of utter confidence. “Nothing at all, Braden.” Damn, she was good. “Kagen just needed some air. Nachari is fine.”

  The boy nestled deeper into the huge leather chair. He sniffled and quickly turned his head away, not wanting the females to see that he had been crying—as if anyone had missed that fact. In an effort to play along, Jocelyn glanced around the waiting room, pretending she hadn’t noticed the tearstained tracks on his cheeks.

  As she eyed their surroundings with clinical interest, she observed that the normally warm, welcoming space seemed somehow cold all of a sudden. Sure, the pliant leather armchairs still sat in perfect, peaceful arrangements—cozy with their matching ottomans on a slate-stone floor, rich in rustic textures, and soft with muted earth tones—but their welcome was as muted as their color. And yes, sparse but tasteful art still hung within expensive frames in perfect increments on the clinic walls—displaying scenic pictures of snowcapped mountains, forest trails, and rushing waterfalls—but their once-tranquil appeal was noticeably absent. A non-obtrusive, flat-screen TV, an inviting beverage table, and a guest computer station were still arranged in perfect order; but there was no order to their lives anymore. Her new family was in a freefall of uncertainty, and if Nachari didn’t recover, they might not ever know peace again.

  Feeling restless and fidgety, Jocelyn glanced once again at Braden: He had finally managed to restrain his tears. She sighed, knowing that Braden’s effort was also Ciopori’s burden. Her sister-in-law, as it were, had been gathering and shielding Braden’s energy for days. Although the boy was still young—and his powers were by and large untapped—Braden possessed some incredible spiritual gifts, and his attachment to Nachari was…elemental, for lack of a better word. Even inside the fortified clinic, Braden’s chaotic, unchecked emotions had the ability to cause great havoc on the land around them, and that was why Ciopori was keeping such a close eye on him.

  It was also why both she and Ciopori had chosen to leave their infants at home with their nursemaids: Emotion was simply too high—too raw—there were too many unknown variables playing out in real time. If young Braden, with all of his power—or hell, even one of the Ancients—actually lost it, the women didn’t want the added concern of protecting their children from the fallout. Not that their mates would ever hurt them, but the Vampyr were intrinsically connected to the earth, and Jocelyn had seen firsthand what too much raw emotion could do.

  Dismissing the thought, she stood and headed toward the refreshment center. Despite being converted nearly two months ago, she still enjoyed an occasional indulgence—she might as well make herself another cup of coffee. She glanced at Ciopori. “Are you worried about Marquis?”

  Ciopori nodded almost indiscernibly. “The noise we heard. I felt a surge in Marquis’s energy; I am certain he hurt someone or something…most likely himself.”

  Jocelyn sighed. “It’s hard…not to go in there right now.”

  “It is,” Ciopori agreed, “but I fear that if they do not come together in this difficult time—find a way to draw strength from one another—those bonds will be severely injured.”

  Jocelyn shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never known any family that loved each other more.”

  Ciopori brushed a piece of lint off her blouse. “It isn’t a matter of love; it is a matter of pain tolerance…grief tolerance. This is more than any one of them can bear alone. Perhaps more than they can bear together.”

  Jocelyn couldn’t stand it another second.

  She had to reach out to Nathaniel.

  Baby, she whispered soothingly on their private telepathic bandwidth, how are you holding up?

  Nathaniel sighed—a deep, slow, exasperated exhale. Ah, tiger-eyes; this is…so hard.

  Jocelyn swallowed a lump in her throat. I know. Kagen is a mess. How is Marquis?

  He broke his hand against the wall, and he hasn’t even thought to heal it yet.

  Jocelyn clenched her eyes shut. Oh God, do you need me to come in there?

  Nathaniel chuckled, a laugh absent of joy. Always, Iubita mea. I need you…always. But give us a little more time. When Kagen returns, we are going to talk…perhaps pray.

  Even though Nathaniel couldn’t s
ee her, Jocelyn nodded instinctively.

  Angel? he said.

  I’m here, she assured him. Just outside the door. I love you, Nathaniel.

  Mmm, he purred, and the sound was like soft velvet caressing her ears. And I, you, angel.

  Just then, the clinic doors flew open and a red-headed whirlwind in three-inch heels stormed through the entrance. “Hey, Joss. Hey, C. What the hell is up with Kagen?” Kristina Riley-Silivasi stood in the doorway in a short pink miniskirt and matching pumps, her Corvette keys still dangling in her hands. “Is Nachari okay?”

  Kristina was the de facto sister of the Silivasi brothers after having been mated to Marquis for less than a week in what could only be described as an utter disaster: The Dark Ones had used black magic to gain the assistance of the dark lord Ocard in reversing the Blood Curse in order to fool Marquis—basically, they had switched Kristina and Ciopori, leading Marquis to believe that the wild redhead was his destiny. Luckily, Nachari had figured it out before Marquis and Kristina had consummated the union—before she had become pregnant with his twins—and they were able to reverse it in time. Unfortunately, Marquis had already converted her, unknowingly, under the protection of the dark lord, and she had become a full-fledged vampire: It had been too late for Kristina to go back to her human life, although, truth be told, it hadn’t been the greatest life to begin with.

  Knowing that Kristina shared their blood—and their vampiric existence—the Silivasi brothers had adopted her as their sister, and Marquis had agreed to take care of her financially for the rest of her life. And the rest, as they say, is ongoing history.

  “Kagen is trippin’ for real,” Kristina explained, gesturing wildly with her arms. “I walked up to him and was like, Yo Kagen, and he just looked right through me. So I was like, dude, do you not hear me talking to you? And he practically yelled, Nachari is fine! I was like, okay, Mr. Hyde…shit!”

  Jocelyn smiled. “He’s just overwhelmed. Nachari is the same.”

  Kristina nodded. Then she walked right past the women, went straight to Braden, and knelt down in front of him. “Hey, Bray,” she whispered in a voice so kind it could hardly be recognized as hers. “How’s my favorite little brother?”

  Braden smiled briefly, then shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Nachari still hasn’t…” His voice faltered, and he didn’t try to finish the sentence.

  Kristina reached for his hand. “Yeah, I know. But that’s okay. He’s probably just busy somewhere…you know…out there in the spirit world kicking some serious demon ass. You know Nachari: If he’s having a good time, then we’re just gonna have to wait.”

  Her words brought a genuine smile to the boy’s face, illuminating his soft burnt-sienna eyes. “You think so, Kristina?”

  She nodded convincingly. “Yeah, I do. For real.” She stroked Braden’s hand lovingly. “He’s not gone. Not Nachari. No way.”

  Jocelyn looked at Ciopori and smiled. “Some wonders never cease.”

  “How very true,” Ciopori said. “It is odd—the relationship she has with the boy—although, I suppose not so much when you consider how much time she spends at Nachari’s place.” Her face constricted with sorrow when she spoke his name. “I imagine there is somewhat of a bond there as well.”

  Jocelyn nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  Kristina, for all her crude, elementary, and in-your-face ways, had made a strong impact on everyone in the family, including Marquis. Maybe the time they had spent together had meant something after all; although, whatever Marquis and Kristina had shared, it was nothing compared to the love he felt for the beautiful woman standing in front of her.

  Jocelyn sighed. “I kind of like her myself.”

  Ciopori laughed, then. “Yes, me too.”

  Kristina turned around and rolled her eyes. “Newsflash, everyone: I’m not human anymore. I can hear you!”

  Jocelyn and Ciopori laughed.

  Just then the door to Nachari’s room opened, and Katia stuck her head out. “Excuse me, but Marquis is about to inject some venom in his hand to heal it. However, before he seals it up, I would like to remove some metal fragments that are lodged in the bone. Would one of you mind fetching a pair of tweezers from the basement supply closet for me? There aren’t any in here, and I can’t leave Nachari unattended—”

  “Just leave the damn things in there!” Jocelyn heard Marquis grumble from inside the room.

  She cringed.

  Ciopori shook her head. “Try to be agreeable, warrior,” she called, loud enough for him to hear her. He responded with a deep, throaty growl, and she smiled. Placing her hand on Jocelyn’s arm, she winked at the nurse. “Jocelyn and I will both go fetch the tweezers—we could use the exercise, anyhow.”

  “Speak for yourself, sister,” Nathaniel mumbled, his witty voice echoing from inside the room.

  Ciopori huffed. “That is not what I meant!” She gave Jocelyn an apologetic glance. “I didn’t mean you needed exercise—”

  “I know what you meant,” Jocelyn teased. “Where do we find the tweezers, Katia?”

  “At the end of the hall, through the last door on the right. They’re in the glass cabinet on the third shelf down.”

  “Got it,” Jocelyn replied. Turning to Ciopori, she took her by the hand and hauled her in the direction of the stairs. “Come on, C,” she said, mimicking Kristina, “let’s go for a short walk.” Raising her voice, she added, “We could both use the exercise, anyway.”

  She heard Nathaniel’s chuckle as the door to Nachari’s room swung shut.

  twenty-six

  Tiffany stood directly behind David Reed as he shimmied open the back door to the clinic, making fairly easy work of it—either vampires were not very concerned with high-quality locks, or they were not very afraid of intruders. She had a sick feeling it was the latter.

  Having arrived with David and five other soldiers from the vampire-hunting militia about fifteen minutes ago, the team had been forced to wait while a brown-haired male wandered further away from the property after speaking briefly to a red-haired woman. Tiffany didn’t know for sure what a vampire looked like—she had only seen the ones that had taken Brooke—but watching the way the tall, handsome male moved, the barely leashed power that radiated from his body and the easy gait of his steps, which mimicked a lion on the prowl, she had no doubt that he was one of them. The militia had gone to great lengths to mask their scent with a special blend of herbs created just to fool vampires, and then David’s team had moved with an uncanny stealth and grace all their own.

  “Shh,” David cautioned. He held a finger to his mouth and then ushered her ahead, gesturing for her to enter the building just behind his men. Apparently, he was going to take the rear. “If there’s anyone here, we’re prepared for them; but keep in mind, they have incredible hearing.” He whispered the words in a barely audible voice. “I’d rather catch one of them by surprise than be caught by surprise myself. Understand?”

  Tiffany swallowed hard and nodded, noting the sweat beading on David’s forehead. They were prepared—beyond prepared—with their dangerous cache of weapons: His team had brought tranquilizer guns, each filled with enough tranquilizer to bring down an elephant in three seconds flat; semiautomatic nine-millimeters, each one loaded with a full magazine of diamond-tipped bullets; lethally sharpened stakes; and long, curved machetes used for…beheading. She shook her head in disbelief. She had to admit she had been impressed by the arms they carried—she couldn’t even imagine what a diamond-tipped bullet must cost.

  Just the same, it was hard to believe they were really here—that all of this was really happening.

  A part of her still insisted it wasn’t real.

  Yet she knew that it was.

  Brooke had been gone for ten days now, and there was no mistaking what Tiffany had seen in her dream; there was no mistaking the similarities between the predatory male who had been walking outside of the clinic and the terrifying … creature … who had taken Brooke away the last night of
the conference. Vampires were real. And her best friend was in the clutches of one now. She shivered and murmured a quick prayer, fingering one of the three crosses she was wearing. Sure, David had told her that the whole crosses and holy-water thing was a myth—one that might just get her killed if she relied on them—but she figured a little extra protection couldn’t hurt. Better safe than sorry.

  “Hang in there, Brooke,” she whispered beneath her breath, “we’re going to find something useful here today, and these men won’t rest until you’re back home safely. Neither will I.”

  They had just entered the building and were walking down a long, narrow corridor, when they heard a door open at the far end of the hall. The voices of two women carried through the hollow space, and two distinct sets of footsteps could be heard descending a staircase. David held up two fingers. With eyes as sharp as an eagle’s, he pointed to the right, signaling for two of his men to take cover in a nearby room. He directed the remaining three to the left, just across the hall, and then he backed into a doorway, pulling Tiffany tight to his side and eyeing her with a stern warning: “Stay right here. No matter what happens, do not confront one of the vampires.” He withdrew his tranquilizer gun and held it up against his chest. “If things get ugly, get the hell out of here…as far away as you can.”

  Tiffany’s eyes grew wide. “You said there wouldn’t be any vampires around, and if there were, they would be sleeping at midday.”

  David shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I was wrong.”

  Tiffany tried to calm her racing heart. Panicking wouldn’t do her any good. She tuned into the hushed murmurs of the women and listened: They sounded relaxed, like friends…normal. “What if they’re human?” she asked, her heart suddenly sinking into her stomach. “You’re not going to shoot first and ask questions later, are you?”