Vamped Up

by Kristin Miller

  What if he unknowingly held back from Lilith’s maware? What if they met again and he . . . his stomach turned. The only thing Ruan had to eat in nearly twelve hours was Eve’s blood. The thought alone made him sick with guilt.

  He knew what he had to do. If Lilith’s maware didn’t work . . . if he held back . . . he needed something to explain why he should stay away from Eve, without the entire vampire race knowing too.

  He opened the worn cover of the leather-clad tome and blew dust from its pages. He flipped through wildly, through language he couldn’t understand—looking for something, anything, that would prophesize their end. But he didn’t spot her name. Or his. He thumbed through chunks of pages at a time, feeling like he’d flipped through so much with an eternity still left.

  Footsteps pounded above his head. The sound of a woman’s voice echoed through the outer corridor. Lilith was on the war path. Wouldn’t be long now—minutes maybe—before she barged in to the chamber, saw him with the tome, and . . .

  Damn it.

  He needed more time to leave himself a loophole. He’d need to remove the pages revealing Eve’s end and hide them for safekeeping . . . somewhere only he could find them—God forbid he ever need to remind himself of the horrors he’d committed against her in the past. There was no way in hell he was going to stand by and leave Eve’s future in Lilith’s hands.

  Except now there wasn’t time to search for the right pages. How could he possibly know which pages to destroy and which pages to safeguard?

  Ruan’s fingers flew to the back of the book—to a blank page opposite a listing of elders and their mawares. A sort of dark magic registrar. He wrote fast. A message to himself. A warning of his fate. Of Eve’s. Of his choice to forget her.

  Of another fate neither of them saw coming.

  He scribbled a Vigenère table in the margins of the registrar, created a keyword he’d never allow himself to forget, and started plugging in letters. Minutes slipped through his cramping fingers. When the message was finished, encrypted into gibberish, he tore the page from the Grimorium and shoved it into his pocket.

  As Lilith’s voice became too loud and too close for comfort, Ruan skimmed the opposite page through the list of enchantments. His eyes came to rest on a small incantation, its instructions written clearly above it, in Latin.

  Having studied Latin his whole life, Ruan spoke quietly, hovering over the Grimorium, his gaze shooting to the wall on the opposite side of the room. “A Grimorium Verum secriligaza commando!”

  The tome shivered against his fingertips, lifted into the air, dangled as if attached to a string hoisted to the ceiling. As Lilith turned the corner and stood in the chamber doorway, the book evaporated into thin air, leaving nothing but dust in its wake.

  “What have you done?” she squealed, her ruby-red eyes glowing brighter than Ruan had ever seen them. “Where did you send it? Bring it back.”

  Ruan turned, shaking his head. “When Eve fulfills her destiny in the next life and is free to live and love without me at her side, you’ll get the Grimorium back. Until then I’m securing my own fate.”

  “You fool! You have no idea what you’ve done!” Lilith raised her arms into the air as her entire body shook with rage. “Mentelo quisa a Grimorium Verum aprirligaza commando!”

  The fort rumbled at her words. Lights dimmed. Ruan thought for sure the Grimorium Verum would reappear on the stone tablet. He knew, without having to read the enchantment in the tome, that the words she’d called upon were the ones needed to release the Grimorium from wherever he’d sent it.

  But nothing happened.

  She shot a white hot fireball from her fingertips into the ceiling. “Apriligaza Commando!”

  The walls shuddered at her command. But again, they gave nothing.

  “You have to say it. The words have to come from you.” Hatred teemed from Lilith’s eyes as they narrowed to slits and set upon him. “Bring it back.”

  “You heard my rules. I forget Eve. She lives. You get the Grimorium Verum. In that order.” He pointed to the charred mark her fireball left in the stone ceiling. “What choice do you have?”

  Chanting enraged words in a language Ruan had never heard, Lilith opened her arms wide and flourished them upward to the sky. Shimmering droplets of crimson hung in mid-air beneath her arms. It almost looked like . . . wings . . . bleeding wings that extended from the velvet of her dress, clung to her arms, and ended at her clenched fingertips. But when Ruan blinked, looking closer, wings weren’t there at all—it was just an aura of red that seemed to glow from all around her.

  A flaming ball of light burst from her clutched hands and blasted Ruan in the chest. He flew backwards from the sudden and massive energy strike and smacked into the wall behind him. His head snapped back, hitting the stone so hard his teeth rattled.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Denial is one of the truest vampire emotions. We are not out of control. We are not monsters. Aren’t we, though?”

  Accepting Ancient Vampirism: A Rich History by the vampire formerly known as Neill Dracule

  “WE WON’T ALLOW you to be together, Ruan,” Lilith said, dragging him back to the present. “You must know that by now. But we can’t allow Savage to have her either.”

  “Why Eve?” Struggling to catch his breath, Ruan brushed his fangs against his bottom lip. “Why did Savage have to take her?”

  “Savage wants to kill elders for their death shades so he can possess a culmination of their mawares. Eve is the perfect tool as she draws them to her. All he’ll have to do is round them up for slaughter.”

  Clouds thickened overhead, echoing the ominous feeling churning in Ruan’s gut. They rumbled in unison, promising a wicked midnight storm.

  “You were working with him the whole goddamn time.” Ruan stood, looking down upon Lilith, who was sitting on the ledge of the building like an exotic bird perched upon a swing. “You and Savage—Kane—were using Eve together.”

  She nodded slowly, her fire-lit eyes judging how much he’d seen.

  He repressed the urge to snap her neck for what she did to Eve, to them. Barely. Logic kicked in, throwing him for a loop. “Wait . . . on Winter Solstice, not two months ago, Savage had Eve in the palm of his hand. She was in San Francisco’s haven, standing right in front of him. If he’d wanted her, he could’ve had her . . . it was almost like he didn’t know who the hell she was. Why?” The last word exhaled as a growl. How could he trust anything she said anymore?

  Lilith glided to her feet as if pulled up by an invisible force and brushed down the lines in her corseted gown. She met his gaze head on. “When we discovered you killed Eve that night, forcing us to wait another hundred years for her return, Savage lost it. He was a loose cannon, separating from Petaluma’s haven, traveling further than my reach. I couldn’t get to him. Could no longer influence his thinking or bend him to my will.”

  “How horrible for you.” Ruan glared. “To have to deal with someone you couldn’t control like a puppet.”

  “What you can’t get through that thick head of yours is that I understood the role you played in all this.” She dragged a ruby-red strand of hair over her shoulder and stroked it gently. “I understood you needed to live for Eve to fulfill her destiny. Savage didn’t want to hear what I had to say on the matter. He was over it and out for blood—yours. I couldn’t stand by and let him strike down what I’d fought to build.”

  She turned and gazed upon the dreary, rain-battered city. “So I tracked him down and influenced him, just as I did you. I made him forget you, Eve, all of it.”

  “Well that was fucking brilliant.” Ruan huffed, bringing her attention back around. “Now he plans to kill Eve instead of me.”

  “That’s by no fault of mine. I’ve done what I could to protect her. In 1912, I used my haven to shield her; she hardly left my side except for that night I locked her
away in the fort. In this life I made her invisible to both you and Savage. She lived a normal life, with normal problems . . . until you brought her into your haven and dangled her beneath Savage’s nose.”

  “You know, Lilith, for someone who walks around like she’s all powerful, I think you should know . . . your maware seems to be slipping.” He let the sarcasm fly. “You should look into that before it royally fucks something up.”

  Ruan had heard enough of Lilith’s bullshit. He had the only fact he needed: Eve was in Savage’s hands. Now was the time to act. Turning, Ruan hauled ass down the stairwell of the apartment complex, Lilith hot on his heels. “If you know something about how to stop Savage, now’s the time to pony up the info,” he called behind him.

  “He’s going to round up as many elders as he can, so he can absorb their mawares, but there’s a reason elders don’t have more than one.”

  “And?” Ruan glanced over his shoulder.

  Lilith pursed her lips into a twisted smirk. “I need the Grimorium Verum back.”

  “Back to step one, are we?” Shaking his head, Ruan rounded a corner and practically jumped the last flights of stairs. “I told you the deal in 1912. It hasn’t changed. You hold up your part of the bargain and I’ll hold up mine. We rescue Eve first. Then you get your book.”

  “That’s all dragons and dandelions, Ruan, but it holds vital information that will help Eve with the amulet. It will tell us how this all will end, what will become of Savage . . . and what will become of us. We need the Grimorium now, not later.”

  After hearing her conversation with Savage in the antechamber of the fort where they’d planned to kill him, Ruan found it near impossible to believe a word Lilith said. If she thought he’d turn over the Grimorium Verum with a snap of her fingers she was delusional. He opened his mouth to say as much, then paused, remembering Lilith’s words before she blasted him with his past: Eve is gone. Savage has taken her. Only you know where they’ve gone or how we can get her back. He stopped inside the main floor of the destroyed apartment complex. “What made you think I would know where Savage is taking Eve?”

  Lilith caught up easily, not a beat behind him. “Because you, and you alone, had access to the Grimorium Verum in that chamber. You can’t tell me you didn’t take a peek into that tome to see what secrets it held for your future.”

  “I wasn’t looking for answers about my future. I was looking to hide it, from myself most of all.” Sighing, he stepped over piles of rubble. “I thought there could be prophecy about Eve’s soul returning written on its pages. I wasn’t about to have a written record of it in our race’s most revered tome.”

  “I hope you realize that if you had kept your greedy hands to yourself, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Lilith hissed, crimson eyes glowing bright. “Now, because of your refusal to bend and tell me how to get the Grimorium Verum back, our lives are put at greater risk. We’re going into this blind. Don’t you get it? Eve could die tomorrow and it’d all be because—”

  “Wait.” If I die tomorrow . . . “That’s it.” Ruan stepped over the last pile of rubble on the sidewalk, then stopped. Fire trucks had gone. Police were questioning witnesses across the street. None were the wiser that neither he nor Lilith had left the building.

  “That’s what? What are you talking about?”

  “Eve could die tomorrow,” Ruan mumbled. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “Ruan, Eve could already be gone.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant.” Eve was still alive. He could feel it in his bones and plain logic told him otherwise. Savage wanted to use her. Not kill her. At least not until he got what he wanted, and that would take some time. Ruan unlocked the Tahoe, tossed Lilith the keys, and stormed around the hood to the passenger side. “I think you just helped me decipher the encryption I wrote in the tome that night. You drive, I’ll explain.”

  After Ruan shut his door, Lilith slid into the passenger seat, instantly engulfing the cab in a sugary honey fragrance. “You have the encrypted pieces of the scroll in your possession? Is that the only portion?”

  “No, Slade managed to get a few pages released by the Crimson Council.”

  She perked up. “Depending on how destroyed they are, I might be able to help you translate them. Maybe we can dig up some information to use against Savage. Why didn’t you mention them before now?”

  “I didn’t trust you.” He shot her a wary glare as she started up the SUV. Considering Dante blasted off to God-knew-where with the elder translator, it looked like Lilith was his best option. His only option. “But it looks like now I don’t have much of a choice.”

  “Finally, you got something right.” Lilith shifted into gear and pulled his Tahoe away from the curb and into the mist-billowing night.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Living in hiding has its benefits—you live to bite another day.”

  Elder Protection 101

  BEFORE EVE OPENED her eyes, she knew Savage had taken her to some sort of underground facility. Dank, cold air settled on her skin. The nose-burning stench of dirt, grime, and crude metal invaded her senses, reminding her of times spent digging in mud and sand at the beach as a child.

  She mustered the strength to peel her eyelids apart. And stared straight up into a bright industrial light connected by an orange electrical cord stapled to the ceiling. It led out the only door—a heavy wooden monstrosity with railroad nails arched around the edges. It looked more like a gothic castle gate than any modern door she’d ever seen. Sliding her head back and forth, she tried to look around and realized she was lying on a hard, unforgiving stone tablet.

  She flexed her arms, pulled at the restraints looped around her wrists. No give. She did the same for her legs, tugging and pulling until the door swung open and a breeze swept through the circular room, chilling her to the bone.

  “You’re awake,” Savage said, stomping across the floor, rising at her side. “It’s about goddamn time. How do you feel, minus the lump on your head?”

  She hadn’t felt a lump, but with the mere mention of it, knives shot through her temples and the top of her head throbbed. Eve winced, convinced if she could dab a finger to her scalp, she’d come away with gobs of blood. He’d hit her as he dragged her from her apartment complex; knocked her out cold. Coward.

  If she could’ve mustered enough saliva, she would’ve spit in his face. Instead Eve shifted, looked away, stared at the only window in the room—a narrow slat large enough for a set of eyes to peer out on the city and nothing more. Not even the soft glow of the nearly full moon made it through the space. They must’ve been in some sort of battle chamber with most of the room being underground, save for the useless slat.

  Savage whacked her on the back of the head with his hand. She let a moan slip.

  “That good, huh?” He knelt down, out of sight, and tightened the hold on her wrists, then moved around to perform the same routine to her ankles.

  Her shoulders burned, her arms arched down and back. Her legs pulled tight, bending a tad further than she could stretch. Muscles taut, head spinning, Eve closed her eyes, focused on relaxing her muscles and breathed deep.

  The amulet, humming in the heart of her neck, slipped on the chain and dangled off her shoulder. Savage caught it and replaced it on her neck. As his hand scraped against her skin, her eyes fluttered open.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Eve asked, uncertain how much had already happened since she’d been unconscious. How long was she out, anyway? How close was it to sunrise? Would Ruan be coming? Her confidence deflated just as hope began to swell. Ruan wouldn’t be coming because he wouldn’t know where to find her. She’d broken up with him. Told him her love had faded. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth. “What do you want?”

  Savage hovered over her, the dark groove in his face matching the hatred in his black-rimmed ey
es. “I’m going to help you fulfill your destiny. Except we’re going to do it my way. And I’m going to fulfill my destiny at the same time.” He chuckled, two low foghorns that echoed through the empty stone chamber. He crouched low, beside her ear “What’s even better is that Ruan won’t be anywhere around to interfere. It’s just you and me . . . well,” Savage corrected, the scruff of his lips scratching against her cheek, “ . . . it’s us and the herd of elders you’ve called here. I thought I was going to have to draw them here one by one, you see. You’ve saved me much trouble. I should thank you.”

  Eve’s eyes flipped open and stared straight into the pits of hell—into Savage’s sick, demonic gaze. His left brow arched and he pulled back, spreading his arms to the open door and the shadowed corridor beyond. “Take a look for yourself.”

  As Eve’s vision grew accustomed to the dark hall, outlines of people crouched on the ground came into focus. Their hands were shackled above their heads forcing their bodies to hang limp from the extreme hold.

  It didn’t take the amulet’s hum increasing to a dull roar, or the heat on her chest increasing from lukewarm to smoldering, for Eve to realize the people being held captive weren’t people at all.

  They were elders.

  She could tell by the red glow behind their eyes; the kind of determined gleam that burned even when faced with certain death. Only elders would be shackled, defeated, and beaten and still show no fear. Not even Eve could hide the fear behind her eyes, no matter how she tried to mask it.

  And behind them, hovering over and around them, trying to disappear into the shadows, were translucent white shades of elders. How long had they roamed this earth, waiting for their time to pass over? Now they’d never get their chance. And every elder within arm’s length was about to join them.