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Ashes to Ashes (Barbie the Vampire Hunter Book 3)

Page 13

by Lucinda Dark


  “Maverick.” His name was a warning on my tongue.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, worry coating his voice—deepening the tone of it. “Do you need me to call Torin?”

  Even though my vampire wasn’t fully in control anymore, I could still feel her presence. Could still see the effects of it from the red glow of my eyes reflected off the mirror to the side. I glanced over and saw the picture the two of us created—him so large and shadowed in the darkened interior of the bathroom. Anyone looking in would have assumed him more powerful than me, but I knew the truth. I could break him without even trying and that fact fucking terrified me.

  “Let go of me,” I demanded. “You should be scared of me.”

  “The fuck? I’ve never been scared of you, Barbie,” he snapped. “I’m scared for you.”

  I looked up and met his eyes. “You should leave,” I said. “I’m hungry and your presence is fucking torture.”

  He didn’t seem startled by that fact. Then again, he probably knew before I’d even spoken. My fangs were throbbing. “Do you want to bite me, Barbie?” I closed my eyes as he moved closer, dipping his head down. His scent was stronger. I forced my face to turn away. “Do you want to drink my blood, Princess?” A warm hand smoothed over my abdomen and I sucked in a harsh breath, my eyes popping open as I hissed at him. He didn’t even flinch. “I think I want that,” he whispered. The hairs on the nape of my neck stood up at the suggestion in his tone. “I think I want you to take me as deep as you can. All the way to your fucking soul.” His other hand slipped up my back and through my hair, gathering the strands in his strong grip. Maverick forced my head back, my mouth opening as he moved.

  Yes, my vampire urged. Do it.

  “Why won’t you trust me, Princess?” His words entered my mind, but I wasn’t listening. All I could feel was the hard pounding throughout my veins. The fiery need. The unsatiated desire.

  “Mav…” I rasped.

  He pressed his mouth against my pulse, kissing it gently. My thighs tightened as that burn forced its way downward. My clothes suddenly felt too fucking tight. Too fucking hot. I wanted to rip them all away and then do the same to his. Perhaps Satrina was onto something. Maverick lifted his head and my eyes flicked to him.

  As soon as his throat was in reaching distance, I struck. “Fuck!” His shout, combined with the jerking of his hips, told me more than anything else that he didn’t particularly hate my bite.

  Warm blood slid into my system—fucking hot and delicious. More than hot, he tasted like a fucking volcano. It wasn’t right. I’d drunk human blood and even though I’d upchucked it all, I knew what it should’ve tasted like. And it shouldn’t have tasted like this. Still, I couldn’t get enough. Maverick tasted like forbidden desires and wicked spices. I wasn’t in control anymore. My vampire was. And she was fucking ravenous.

  As I drank him down, I lost all sense of reason. Flashes of images danced behind my closed eyelids as they slowly shut. Golden scales. Fire. Claws. As soon as my fangs retracted and my eyes opened, I looked at Mav and shook my head with horror. I couldn’t make sense of any of it, but something was very, very wrong.

  “Oh, Mav…” I reached up, touching the side of his face even as he blinked at me, his cloudy gaze unfocused. “What did you do?”

  Nineteen

  Barbie

  Maverick wouldn’t talk to me. He wouldn’t answer my questions. We didn’t even talk about the fact that I’d drank from him, and … I hadn’t gotten sick either. Was it his blood specifically? I wondered. Or was it the fact that it hadn’t been bagged? I wasn’t sure, but there was something about Maverick’s blood that had tasted off. Maybe it was because I didn’t have much in the way of comparison, but that combined with his avoidance left me on edge. There was so much happening that left me confused and I didn’t like it one fucking bit. And unfortunately, Maverick wasn’t the only one I had to worry about.

  After what happened at the nightclub, I had expected some change in Torin. On the surface, everything was normal—or as normal as it could get with witches and vampires and demons in the mix. Torin and I went back to how we were—except we didn’t. On the surface, we acted as though nothing had happened at the club. I still went to his guesthouse. We trained. I drank the vials he gave me. I ate lunch with Olivia and Ben. Sometimes Torin joined us. Other than driving me to school and back, Maverick was hell bent on avoiding me. We were play acting out the parts we had before as if we all wanted to go back when things weren’t nearly so fucking complicated. It was a lie.

  Tension vibrated between us. Slowly building. I began to have dreams—dreams of another me, my vampire, coming to the forefront as she had before. She wasn’t an enemy anymore, so much as she was a new part of me I still wasn’t quite sure how to interact with. Did I continue to suppress her and risk an explosion of bloodthirst like what had nearly happened my first day back at school? Obviously, that wasn’t the smartest of options. What else was I left with than to let her … say her piece?

  And what a glorious piece it is. She rose up as if just thinking about her had conjured her from the depths of my mind. What’s with all of this guilt you’re feeling? You know we had fun. Why not do it again?

  There are more important things to think about than … I scrunched up my nose as I shoved books into my locker and let it bang shut. That.

  Come on, you can say it, she pressed. Sex. Delicious, red-hot, vampire sex.

  The memories of Torin and I flashed through my head. It wasn’t just sex. It had been something more. Something groundbreaking. But now I was craving both blood and … that. It was a lot to take on. I shook the thoughts off as quickly as they had come. This was all so fucked up. So unnecessary. What I needed to be focused on was finding Esperanza and figuring out a way to kill Arrius Priest.

  You’re worried you will hurt the human, my vampire stated. I hated her in that moment, but mostly because she was right. I was terrified of hurting Maverick. Torin could take it, Maverick was—well, I thought he was human, but after I’d taken blood from him the night before, something seemed off. He hadn’t tasted like what I was used to—not the bagged blood I’d had before and not like Torin’s blood. I wondered if it was just because I’d taken it from his vein. But then that didn’t explain why’d he’d practically dumped me out of his arms and ran the second I asked him about it. And … I reached out and touched my lips; I hadn’t upchucked what I’d taken from him either.

  More and more worries and questions kept piling on. I let my hand drop with a groan. I’d been so focused on what had happened to me—nearly dying, being turned against my will—and what I was planning—tracking down the black witch and killing Arrius—that I hadn’t really stopped to realize that even without all of that, my life was well and truly fucked. And I’d done it to myself.

  I had sex with Maverick and then Torin and I’d done it before all hell had broken loose. The only reason the three of us hadn’t sat down to have it out was because we hadn’t fucking had a chance. We’d been going full throttle since I’d awoken in that tomb. By my own mistake, it had led to a lot of pent up energy and that had all come to a head at the nightclub.

  I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the hard metal of my locker. So fucked up… I thought. Everything was spinning out of control.

  “Barbie?” Olivia’s voice sounded right next to me, jerking me out of my trance.

  I stumbled away from the lockers and turned, spotting her leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed on me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re weird today,” she commented. “What’s up with you?”

  “What?” I scoffed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit, homegirl,” she replied, uncrossing her arms and waving one in my general direction. “You’ve got that guilty look.”

  “The what?” I looked down at myself before back up at her with a frown. “What are you talking about? There’s not a look.


  “I don’t know what’s going on in your life, girl, but whatever it is, we really need to dish it out.” A smile stole across her face and she leapt forward, snatching my hand up in both of hers. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all planned out. This weekend. You and me. The city. The lights. The sounds. The shopping!” She squealed, jumping up and down excitedly even as she continued to hold onto my hands. “You promised and I’ve got everything arranged. Prom is literally weeks away—Jesus, I can’t believe we’ve waited this long, but knowing you, I shouldn’t be surprised.” She released me and nodded. “Considering that you waited until the last minute to tell me you were interested in homecoming, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I huffed.

  “Um…” Olivia jutted her chin out and shook her head slightly. “Do you not remember?” she asked. “Promising me that we could go to the city for a weekend getaway? Prom dress shopping. Geez, were you always this much of a forgetful ditz?”

  The irony of her words was not lost on me. If either of us fit the role of a ditz, it’d be her, not me. “I don’t know if I really should—” I started.

  Olivia gasped and rushed me, nearly knocking me over as her finger jammed up into my face. “Oh no,” she snapped. “No freakin’ way, missy. You said you would, and I cleared it with Mrs. McKnight. You’re going. I’m driving. End of story. We’re going this weekend and that’s final.”

  I pursed my lips down at the offensive digit she had pointed at my chest. When she didn’t seem to get the memo, I sighed, gently reaching down and removing her finger before I strode around her. I began walking as the final bell chimed, announcing that we were—once again—late to class.

  “Barbara whatever-your-middle-name-is Steele,” Olivia said, huffing as she kept pace with me.

  “It’s Elizabeth,” I said, “and don’t ever call me Barbara again.” I shuddered. God, I fucking hated that name.

  “What’s Elizabeth?” she asked, frowning.

  “My middle name.”

  “You mean like Elizabeth McKnight?”

  I paused, my feet slowing to a stop. I hadn’t thought about that, but … Holy shit. Maybe I had been named after Elizabeth—she and my mom had been best friends after all, and Beth said that she’d known me when I’d been born. I grimaced and started walking again.

  “I guess,” I mumbled. “I don’t know.” And I never would. Because my mother was dead, and she’d never be able to tell me if my middle name came from her college best friend. What I needed to do was focus on making her killer pay.

  “That’s kinda cute,” Olivia blathered on. “A little weird what with things so obvious between you and Maverick.”

  “What?” I stopped again, this time spinning on her so quickly that she stumbled back and nearly went down. Quick as a flash, I reached out and grabbed her arm, keeping her from falling.

  “Thanks—”

  “What did you mean by me and Maverick?” I demanded.

  She blinked her big blue eyes up at me. “Aren’t the two of you dating?”

  “What?” I dropped her arm and took a step back. “Why the fuck would you ask me that?”

  If it were possible, her eyes rounded even wider. “I mean—isn’t that why he beat up that kid in the locker room? He was talking bad about you and Maverick beat the crap out of him. I thought it was because you two were…” She nodded her head at me meaningfully. “You know,” she said. “Dating.”

  “We’re not,” I snapped. “And we never will.” I turned away.

  “Why? Is it because of you and Torin? I thought you said you weren’t dating him either? You guys had sex, you were just having fun, right? I know about that. It’s okay—”

  “No! God, stop fucking talking about this.” I whirled on her as I clenched my hands at my sides. “Can’t you fucking get a goddamn clue?” I asked. “Are you too stupid to pick up the signals? I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not dating Maverick. I’m not dating Torin. Just. Fucking. Drop. It.”

  For a moment, there was utter silence. Olivia gaped at me and I shook like I was about to lose it at any moment. I didn’t know what emotion I was feeling, only that I didn’t fucking like it. It curdled in my stomach like sour milk and made my abdomen clench in pain.

  I think that’s called fear, darling, Satrina said.

  I closed my eyes and took a breath. I really don’t need any fucking side commentary right now, I replied.

  Oh no? She sounded tired, her voice quiet and brisk. Straight to the point. Perhaps not, but what you need, right now, is to take a look at your friend.

  I swallowed and opened my eyes. Olivia stared back at me, pink staining her cheeks. For the first time since I’d known her, I saw why people said not to test redheads. Her hand came up in an arch and my head snapped to the side. It didn’t hurt. In fact, my head had merely turned out of shock, rather than any actual force behind her meager swat. As if my body recognized that my head was supposed to turn when I was slapped and not because she had actually forced it to the side. Slowly—ever so gradually—I looked back at her, and I waited.

  “I know I’m not that smart,” she confessed, lowering her arm. “I know people think I’m ditzy and stupid. But I’m your fucking friend, Barbie. Even if you’re not dating Maverick or Torin—or hell, date both for all I care—I just want to know about you and your life.” Her lips twitched, turning down and curling, the lower one trembling as she tried to hold the watery tears in her eyes at bay. She sniffed hard. “I’ve never asked you for more than I know you’re willing to tell me,” she continued. “I’ve seen people with the same look that you have—like you’re fighting against the world. I know you’re hiding secrets from me. I may not be bright, but I know that much. What you just said—how you said it—I didn’t deserve that.”

  My lips parted but words failed me. She was right. Satrina was right. I’d said what I’d said because I was scared. My eyes sought the ground. “I … don’t know what’s going on between me and Maverick and Torin,” I admitted. The words scraped out of my throat, bitter and raw. I didn’t want to say them, but I felt like I had to give something back to her. Make up for my harsh, thoughtlessness. “I’m sorry.”

  The shiny ends of her flats appeared in my line of vision and I glanced up, meeting her gaze. She swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “I accept your apology.” Then with a wince, she squeezed her eyes shut so tightly her whole face scrunched and she looked like she swallowed a lemon. “I’m ready now,” she said through gritted teeth.

  I waited. The longer I waited, the closer my brows drew together. Still, she didn’t stop making that stupid ass face. “Um…” I began. “What exactly are you waiting for?”

  She peeked one eye open at me. “I slapped you,” she said, grimacing at the reminder. “I’m waiting for you to punch me.”

  I snorted. “I’m not going to punch you, Olivia.”

  “Are you just saying that so I’ll stop preparing for it and then you’ll really punch me?” she asked.

  I laughed outright, shaking my head. “No,” I promised. “You were right. I was mean and you didn’t deserve it. The slap was much deserved.”

  Her face relaxed somewhat, but she continued to watch me cautiously—scanning my figure as I pivoted away. “Also,” I said, grinning as she tensed again, “it’s actually worse if you tense up. If your muscles are relaxed, a hit just rolls through you.”

  “Is that something I should know for future reference?” she asked as she fell in line behind me and we started walking once more.

  “I fucking hope not.” I looked at her as we continued down the hall. “And for the record,” I said, my lips twitching with amusement as she glanced my way, “if I had punched you, I would’ve dislocated your jaw.”

  Twenty

  Maverick

  If someone had told me that rock bottom had a fucking basement, I would've told them that it didn't just have a basement, it had a fucking dungeon complete with torture devic
es.

  Sweat covered every inch of my skin. I panted and swallowed against the massive lump in my fucking throat. Fire raced along my spine and shot sharp pains into each of my vertebrae. My lips parted on a gasp as I writhed beneath the sheets. Darkness encroached, taking me over completely—stealing my screams and my sanity. The beastly creature was back and he hovered just beyond my reach. I could feel the piercing heat of his gaze, watching me. Waiting. For what, though, I had not a single fucking clue.

  Something was happening to me. My skin was melting away, my bones turning to ash and dust before burning bright, flaming back to life. The longer I resided in the dark fires of hell, the stronger I felt. Skin knitted back together over new bones, stretching tautly over new muscles. I writhed on a cold surface, and somehow, I felt larger. I couldn’t lay straight. I curved over to the side as the flat surface made the spikes on my back bend awkwardly.

  Wait … spikes? I looked back, my eyes widening as golden lances shot out of my spine and lined my back. And when I tried to reach back to touch one, I noticed that my hands had changed as well. Into a paw of sorts, with skin rougher than leather and scales that shimmered under the firelight.

  I blinked and the image was gone. I sat up in bed, sweat coating my skin, soaking through the cotton of my shirt and making it stick to me. I pushed a slow breath through my mouth and reached back, peeling the wet fabric over my head and tossing it to the floor somewhere in the dark room. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I shifted until my legs swung over the side of the mattress. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I stood and wavered. I reached for my phone and slid it into the pocket of my sweats before slapping a hand against the wall as my knees went weak. What the fuck was wrong with me? I stumbled through the bedroom, my vision blurry, until I reached the door. An achy groan worked its way up my chest.

 

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