by Lucinda Dark
As soon as she was close enough, I snatched the glass from her grip and threw it. It collided with the wall, the glass fragments raining down in a shower of blood and crystal. Not by the batting of an eyelash did she react. Stone cold. Ice woman. That’s what she was. She was as impenetrable as a statue, likely with the same ability to host emotions.
“You are balanced on a precarious edge, little brother—”
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “You’re no sister of mine.”
She didn’t blink. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m not your sister. The only reason people refer to me as such is because of my looks. I don’t look old enough to be your mother—though I raised you as if you were my own child. If this is the culmination of my efforts, perhaps more children like you will not be in my future.”
“What?” My shoulders rose and fell with the force of my breaths. It took every ounce of my restraint to keep from ripping her head from her shoulders. “You expect me to have some sort of appreciation towards you for raising me?”
She tilted her head to the side, her eyes growing darker as red came to the forefront—the only hint that she might not be as calm as she pretended to be. “It would not go amiss,” she said.
"It doesn't work like that," I argued. "I didn't ask to be born, to have my mother sacrifice herself—"
"But she did and that fact cannot be changed," Katalin interrupted me. "And were it not for me, you would never have met that girl or your human friend. I gave you the opportunity to have those experiences. Without me, you would have been raised in the cold English countryside, far from any human interaction at all. You can breathe your fire all you like, but some gratitude is due to me."
“She is my mate!” I roared. I wanted to put my hands around her throat and throttle her. Wanted to sink my fangs into her neck and drain her, kill her—though her blood would do nothing, I was on the verge of losing all control.
“And you were a fool for trying to keep her,” she replied. “Did you not think after you killed Eloise that Arrius wouldn’t ask questions? That he wouldn’t notice her absence? Instead of directing your wrath at me, perhaps you should ask yourself why you haven’t heard from him? I covered for you, Torin,” she said. “I have spent the last several weeks keeping him from storming across the ocean, keeping him from finding out that your mate still lives when she should have died.”
“What?” My anger didn’t disappear, but it did lessen as her words reached my ears. She’d protected me? Barbie? Why?
Katalin's expression changed only marginally. Had I not been paying such close attention, I might have missed the light press of her lips as they firmed and the slight lowering of her eyelids as she stepped even closer. One palm landed on my chest and I felt it almost like a shock. When had been the last time she'd willingly touched me—or anyone for that matter? She pushed until my back was pressed to the wall.
My shock and her strength combined left me weak to the movement. Katalin leaned closer, her mouth next to my ear as she spoke. “Arrius is a cruel bastard, Torin,” she said coolly. “He already knew about the girl. You are so quick to accuse me of betraying you, but when I informed him of your involvement with a young human—I did not mention that she was a hunter, I did not mention that she had already been marked for death and that you had failed to kill her after being ordered to do so. He was already aware of her existence. Her death was preordained. She was merely living on borrowed time, and you, foolish child that you are, have only now kept her alive to perish in a much more gruesome fate than before.”
She pulled back until I could look into her eyes. There was no remorse in her gaze, but at the same time, there was no wrath. No rage. There was simply nothing. No emotion save for a marrow of deep sorrow. It was etched into the irises of her eyes. I didn’t know what had finally made me realize what it was because as I stared at her open sadness, I realized it had always been there. Her fingers as they grazed my throat were soft, unhurried. There was no threat to her movements, though I knew Katalin had the experience and strength to kill me if she wanted to. I’d seen her with my father. I knew that she had steel driven into her body. A person did not survive Arrius Priest for centuries without being capable of atrocities.
“I wanted things to be different for you,” she whispered, a quiet admission. “I wanted you to have things—to experience life before death. You were innocent, you deserved that much. Perhaps it was cruel of me to give you anything at all, knowing it would all be taken away.”
“What do you mean taken away?” Fear coiled around my frame. What did she know that I didn’t?
“You were never meant to live, Torin,” she said, her eyes meeting mine. So sad. So full of bitter pain it almost made me flinch. “Your death was planned since before your birth. Everyone thinks that Arrius was consumed by wanting a male heir. Everyone thinks that you were born simply because he wanted to prove that he was capable of anything—even procreation after that should have been lost to him. He’s let them all think that. Believe what they will, he said, the truth lies in your blood.”
One nail dragged down my sternum, stopping at the collar of my shirt. I reached up and grabbed her hand. “What are you talking about, Kat?”
“Eighteen years ago, I made a promise,” she confessed, her voice barely loud enough even for my sensitive hearing. “She wanted you raised in America, the country she was from. She wanted you to be free of him if only for a little while. It took some convincing on my part, but what use was a child to him? So long as you grew and remained alive, you would serve your purpose and it’d been so long since I held a child in my arms…” Her voice caught, held. Cold shock washed over me. “I’m so sorry, Torin.” The apology was a whisper. “I should have killed you the day you were born.”
Then, worst of all, a new voice sounded from the front of the house. “Torin?” My head snapped to the side at the same time as my sister’s.
“No.” The word was barely out of my mouth before she was gone and it was too late.
Twenty-Five
Barbie
"Stop screaming!" I snapped.
Olivia looked at me, cutting herself off mid-ramble as she'd been blubbering at a million miles a fucking minute up until two seconds ago. Stopping herself as she paced back and forth through the hotel room, she gaped at me. Her mouth closed, then opened. Then it shut again. And opened. Jesus fucking Christ. She looked like a fish out of water trying to breathe. "I'm not screaming," she finally said. "I'm freaking out."
"Well, could you freak out a little quieter? My ears are sensitive and I'm pretty sure dogs two cities over can hear your caterwauling."
Olivia narrowed her eyes on me and stood up straight. She crossed her arms over her chest and stomped her foot. My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. "I am not caterwauling. Cats caterwaul and I am not a cat."
Okay ... weird thing to focus on in this moment, but I guess she was in shock? I shook my head as I finished packing and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Come on, we're leaving," I said.
"Leaving?" Her heels sank into the hotel room carpet, making muted thumping sounds as she followed after me through the room. "Why would we leave? We still have the room ‘til tomorrow. Do you know how hard it was to get a room this late?"
I turned around and eyed her. "Do you..." I stopped, licking my lips as I leaned down. I'd never done this before, but I'd seen Torin do it once or twice. I focused on her eyes and called to my vampire. Focus. Breathe. I listened to the sound of her heartbeat. "You don't remember a thing that happened tonight," I commanded. "We left the club and returned to the hotel and decided to go home."
"What?" Olivia's face pinched into a frown. "What are you talking about? Those guys—"
I shook my head, reaching out and grabbing her by her arms. "You don't remember a thing that happened tonight," I repeated with more effort. "We left the club and returned to the hotel and decided to go home."
"Barbie?"
She didn't sound influenced. "Yeah?"
"I think your head's broken."
Fuck. It wasn't working. I released her and turned away, muttering under my breath. Fucking stupid. Of course, I get turned into a damn vampire-dhampire-whatever but I couldn't even use any of that mind control crap. What a fucking cop out. Even though I'd just beaten four men within an inch of their lives and bit one, the need to pound something rose up, heavy and strong. My stomach churned with the reminder of the awful blood I'd ingested. I licked my dry, cracked lips. I definitely needed to get Olivia out of here. Stat.
"What were you trying to do?" Olivia asked.
"Nothing." I snatched the dresses in their original bags as they'd been delivered in earlier and flung them over my shoulder. "Come on."
"Wait!" she shrieked. "We're not going to talk about what just happened?"
"Nothing happened," I said, hoping she'd drop it. But hoping for Olivia to drop anything was like hoping for rain in the desert.
She dug her heels in—quite literally—and wrestled her arm out of my grip when I moved to drag her behind me. I could've simply picked her up, but I didn't want to hurt her, so that left me facing down a redheaded fury who had the full weight of a threatening aura as a Pomeranian. To be fair, those little fuckers could terrify people who actually gave a shit. I—on the other hand—had no problem with them.
"Olivia," I said, "we have to go."
"Oh no," she snapped. "Not until you explain what the hell just happened in that alley. You just—I mean you—those guys and then you—" She cut herself off, staring at me with big eyes as if the words just wouldn't come. I watched with a frown as she lifted one palm and laid it out flat before punching it with her other hand. "Bam!" she said. "Pow! You wrecked them."
Could immortals get migraines? Because I could feel one developing. "How about this," I suggested, "we'll talk about it in the car—let's go." This time, I didn't let her stop me. I grabbed her wrist and yanked her along. I half dragged, half carried her to the checkout counter with her purse dangling over her arm. My phone, unfortunately, remained still cracked and uncooperative. I'd just have to drive her straight to Torin's to have her memories altered. "I'm driving," I announced when the valet came around with her vehicle. I snatched her keys from the man's grip and hopped inside. Olivia followed more slowly, sliding into the passenger side of her car as if it was a foreign concept to her—granted, it probably was.
As soon as she had the door closed, however, we were off like a shot. My foot hit the gas and didn't lift as we sped out of the city—leaving the hotel and the men I'd decimated in the alley far behind.
The speedometer of Olivia’s Porsche inched past a hundred. I could feel her wide-eyed gaze on me as I bit my lip and focused on driving. “Your eyes aren’t red anymore.”
I shot a look her way. “Uh ... no, they only glow red when I'm feeling a heightened emotion,” I replied.
"Oh." I glanced at her when she didn't say anything more. She stared at me with big unblinking eyes. “Your teeth are normal now too,” she commented. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut and pressed my lead foot down even harder on the gas. Olivia shifted in her seat, turning her gaze to the windshield. "What the actual fuck?" The words were whispered under her breath. I didn't think she realized I heard her because they didn't seem to be an actual question directed at me. "Holy fuck. She like just ... completely—bam ... pow ... wham-bam-thank-you-ma'amed them."
"Uh ... Olivia?"
She lifted her head. "Yeah?" she squeaked.
"Are you okay?"
"Am I okay? I'm fine. Totally fine. Cool as cucumber. Ready to—where are we going?" she asked suddenly, turning her head to the window, watching the trees as they whizzed by as if just seeing them for the first time.
"I—erm—don't you want to go home?" I didn't know what she'd do if I told her that I was taking her to Torin to have him erase her memories of the last few hours.
She was quiet. Her eyes staring at me. "You have fangs." Instead of opening her mouth and miming biting someone—as she'd seen me do to the man—she brought her two pointer fingers up and hooked them in front of her mouth. "Fang fangs!"
I blinked. "Oh my fucking God." I turned back towards the road. Olivia was ... there were no words for what she was. I started listing off any possible options in my mind: Insane. Broken. Peculiar. Bizarre.
"What?" she asked, leaning over the console. "What is it? Oh my God! You bit that man. Is he going to turn into what you—"
"No," I interrupted her. Obnoxious, maybe?
"Then what? What is it?" Her skin over her knuckles grew white as she tightened her fists.
I shook my head. "I don't understand your particular kind of crazy," I muttered, "but I gotta fucking admit, you have one hundred percent commitment to it."
"This coming from fang woman?" She snorted and sat back. "That's the pot calling the kettle black. Holy shit!" She flopped around in her seat before settling down. "You've got fangs."
I growled in frustration. "Why do you keep saying that?"
"Because I still can't freaking believe it." She sighed. "You never told me where we were going."
"Far far away?" More like never never land, as in she never never should have seen me like that.
"You're not cute," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm fucking adorable," I shot back.
I didn't see the hit coming, which was rather odd with my new senses, but coming from Olivia—who was beginning to surprise me more and more—violence just didn't seem natural. She smacked my arm and sat back, crossing hers over her chest. "You're not funny," she grumbled. "Just tell me the truth. I haven't broken down and started crying yet, have I?"
"Yet is the key word in that sentence," I pointed out. If looks could slice someone open, I'd be a gutted fish. To be honest, though, her glares held all of the aggressiveness of said gutted fish. Jesus, what those men would have done to her had I not been there ... I didn't want to fucking think about it.
"So ... what are you exactly?" she asked. "Wonder Woman?"
I snorted. "Do I look like I carry a whip around?"
She turned her head and arched one delicately curved brow. "If I promise not to cry will you tell me the truth?" she asked.
I eyed her speculatively. I supposed ... I mean, it couldn't hurt, right? If I told her the truth, she wouldn't remember it after Torin erased her memories. Unfortunately for me, Satrina was strangely quiet and if it didn't hurt us or help us, my vampire didn't give a shit enough to wake up. I swallowed and returned my attention to the windshield as I drove.
"I'm a vampire," I blurted. "Sort of..."
"How are you sort of a vampire?" she asked.
Not exactly the freaked out reaction I'd expected, but one I could work with. "Well, Tor—a dhampire turned me," I started, wincing as I corrected myself mid-sentence, cutting out Torin's name. "And a dhampire is half-human, half-vampire."
"Okay ... so what does that mean?" she prompted, leaning over the console again.
I reached out with one hand and gently pushed her back. "This will be easier to explain when you're not all up in my face." Even though she pouted, Olivia returned to her seat and sat back, staring at me expectantly and waiting. "It means," I continued, "that I can go out in the sun and eat regular food. That holy water doesn't affect me the same as it would a full-blooded vampire."
"So all that mythical mumbo jumbo like Dracula exists then?" she asked.
"It's ... my parents were hunters and from what they taught me—"
"Wait." She held up a hand. "Your parents were vampire hunters?"
"Yeah." I clenched my hands on the steering wheel and sucked in a breath. "My parents didn't die in a house fire," I said. "They were killed by vampires." I stopped, taking a breath, thankful that she'd finally stopped chattering and interrupting me before I continued. "After they died, I wanted to find out who ordered them killed—because it wasn't just a coincidence, I knew that much. He's a vampire as
well, but I was sent to the McKnights..." I hesitated. There was so much to the story ... I thought of Rachel. "Do you remember when Rachel attacked me at the homecoming dance?" I asked, glancing her way with a flash of a movement. She nodded mutely. "Well, it was Rachel, but it wasn't. She was possessed by a demon."
I told her about Satrina and accidentally landing on the amulet that acted as Satrina's portal to the mortal realm. I told her about Torin and Maverick's help—though I left out Esperanza's involvement and Torin's vampiric heritage. I honestly didn't know how much she could handle. Every once in a while, I'd glance her way, unable to help myself—or maybe I just wanted to make sure she hadn't thrown herself from the car when I wasn't paying attention. For the first time since I'd met her, Olivia was dead fucking silent and it was eerie as fuck.
I moved on to Rome, wincing as I told her about the vampire that had attacked her and then me. I confessed that I hadn't been sick at all but had almost died and had been turned—again leaving out that Torin had been the one to turn me. We were thirty minutes out of town when I finished telling her nearly everything, and she spoke.
"You're a goddamn vampire," she blurted.
"Technically half—"
"And you didn't tell me as soon as it happened."
I stopped mid-sentence and slowly turned my head until I could look at her. "You do realize this isn't something you just ... blurt out, right?"
Olivia's face scrunched up. "You broke girl code. You broke girl code so fucking hard."
"What the—"
"I mean, I'm your best friend."
"That's debatable," I said dryly.
She shot me a dark look, full of narrowed eyes and frowning lips before looking forward once more. "And you didn't tell me that you were turned into well—a half-vampire," she corrected herself. "I thought I could let it go about you not telling me about Torin and Maverick right away, but this—this is—wait!" Red curls flew to the side and smacked the back of her seat as she turned her head my way. "How are they involved?" I bit my lip. "Barbie Elizabeth Steele," she growled out with warning.