by Lisa Kessler
“I’m not afraid.”
He ground his teeth together. “That’s because you don’t understand what it is you’re asking for.”
Gretchen reached up, pulling aside her long hair and tilting her head away from him. “I don’t?”
Lukas’s eyes narrowed, staring at two tiny puncture wounds near the back of her neck. Jealousy shot through him. His body went rigid, his jaw taut. “Who did this to you?”
“Zafrina.” She lowered her hand, allowing her hair to cover the wound again.
His hands balled into tight fists. “She hurt you.”
“No.” Gretchen shook her head. “I don’t remember it at all. She must’ve hypnotized me or something. That’s why I want you to drink, Lukas. I want to know what it feels like, and I want it to be you who shows me.”
He shook his head, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he ran them both back through his hair. “You think this is some sort of science experiment.” He met her eyes, lowering his voice. “But you’re wrong. Very wrong.”
“You aren’t scaring me, if that’s your intention.” She took a step closer. “I’m not stupid, Lukas, and I’m not a child. I realize it might hurt, but Zafrina drank from me. She didn’t kill me, and you won’t, either.”
“Why can’t you understand?” Frustration mixed with fear, simmering inside of him. “I don’t want to take that chance.”
He spun around, unable to look at her any longer. Her eyes burned into his back. He could feel the weight of her stare, but he didn’t turn. He couldn’t. Letting out a heavy sigh, Lukas stared up at the night sky.
Already his teeth ached in his mouth, his eyes burned, glowing red with inhuman hunger.
“I get lost when I feed. I don’t know how else to describe it. My whole body screams with need the moment blood touches my lips, and it consumes me. I become an animal, Gretchen, a monster. I’ve never been able to master taking only a small taste. That’s why I try not to feed on humans. I can’t take that risk with you.”
Her touch burned through the fabric of his shirt as her fingertips slid up along his spine. Her scent filled his lungs, embracing him in her essence, until he felt intoxicated simply because she was so close.
His resolve weakened. Finally, Lukas turned around, knowing his eyes were glowing crimson. “Don’t ask this of me.”
“You know I wouldn’t unless it was important.”
“Why is seeing me as a monster important to you?”
“Because you aren’t a monster to me.” Her words trailed off as her arms moved up around his neck, drawing his lips to hers.
His heart raced, his mind screaming to step back before passion and hunger surpassed all reason. But instead of pushing her away, he yanked her in closer, crushing her to his chest as he pressed hot, hungry kisses along her tender throat.
Her fingers threaded through his hair and she gave a tug as his incisors lengthened into sharp fangs. He moaned with lust for her body, her blood, her love, as his tongue tenderly tasted her flesh. The sound of her gasp, the yearning in her voice as she called his name, fueled his desire.
He had never wanted anyone or anything so badly in his entire life.
“I love you,” he whispered, his words fading away as his teeth broke through her skin and the heat of her blood scorched his soul.
Gretchen clung to Lukas, fighting to keep her mind clear, to take in every sensation and study every aspect of him feeding on her blood, but she quickly found it difficult to concentrate. Her heartbeat slowed to match his heart’s rhythm, and the initial pain she’d felt when he broke through her skin was replaced by pleasure, almost erotic, like their souls entwining to become one. Each pull at her veins brought another wave. It felt like pure passion, similar to making love, but somehow even more intimate, one life feeding the other.
Her body writhed against him as she struggled for a better description.
Am I simply a science experiment? Lukas whispered into her mind.
She could hear the smile in his voice although she couldn’t see his face. Her limbs tingled, growing heavier with each passing moment as she fought to answer him silently through her thoughts.
You know the answer to that question.
Do I? Lukas asked.
Yes. She smiled inwardly. You do. Now look past what I’m thinking now. Zafrina saw parts of my life when she drank from me.
Gretchen felt his mind enter hers, merging them together until she was no longer sure where she ended and he began. Her body felt heavy and pliant as he held her close. His mental presence warmed her. He soared through her mind, her heart, her soul, and while he saw her memories, she realized that the mental path between them now went both directions.
Moaning against him as she fought another wave of dizziness, Gretchen saw Lukas as he once was, a young boy learning to hunt with his father. Snow covered the ground and spirals of smoke rose from the chimney of his family home. The scenes flashed in her mind so quickly, it was difficult to place what she saw. She hoped she would remember later. But first she needed to rest. She felt drained. Exhausted.
She closed her eyes with a sigh and didn’t open them again.
Lukas had never experienced a more complete moment than this one. He felt whole, in perfect unison with her. Drinking Gretchen into himself, their minds weaving together into a glorious harmony—he never wanted it to end.
He felt her grip around his shoulders weaken. Somewhere in the back of his mind a small warning sounded. Something was wrong. But he drowned in sensation, lost in her taste, her scent, her love. Rational thought escaped him. Instead, he drank.
Her memories came to him at an alarming rate, filling his mind as if they were his own. He saw her holding her father’s hand, walking down a dock. Her skinned-up knees and elbows attested to her love of adventure and the outdoors, and he could feel her happiness, her joy, as she kept a tight grip on her fishing pole.
The fishing trip faded away as he held her close, savoring each warm sip of her precious blood. Darkness filled his mind. He saw shadows dancing on the walls of a cavern and glyphs. Mayan glyphs covered the ceiling, surrounded them in their story. He saw Zafrina. He’d only seen her for a moment, but he would never forget her eyes, almost orange.
This was the woman who had taken Gretchen’s blood and, in turn, shared some of her knowledge.
Images, stories, and fear filled his mind at an alarming rate. Gretchen’s fear. She was heavy in his arms now, her pulse weakening as he drank. He took in all that Zafrina had shown her and reached for more, but Gretchen seemed so far away. Heavy in his arms.
Not moving.
Reality slammed into him, yanking him back from the euphoric swoon he’d been lost in. Conscious thought attacked his hunger and lust until he could think clearly again. Lukas raised his head, piercing his tongue on his sharp teeth to kiss over her wound and heal her skin. He opened his eyes.
“No…God, no!” She was so pale. “Gretchen.” He stroked her hair away from her forehead. Her head lolled back. “Please. No. Milaya moya, no!” He leaned closer to feel for breath. “I’m so sorry…please wake up.”
He drew her in close, pressing his lips to hers, and puffed air into her mouth. Her lips were cooler than his. He could hear her heart fighting to maintain its rhythm. It fluttered weakly inside of her, struggling to keep her alive.
His pulse raced as fast as his frantic thoughts. He couldn’t lose her. He raised his wrist to his lips, watching her face for any sign of life. But instead of opening a wound to feed her his healing blood, Lukas lowered his hand, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close.
He wept silently into her long thick hair. He couldn’t give her his blood. He’d blamed Calisto for centuries for damning him to live forever, to thirst forever, without his consent. How could he do the same to the only woman he’d ever loved?
He would punish himself for the rest of eternity for being so weak, for drinking from her, for letting her die, but he would rather live with that pain t
han to see hatred in her eyes every time she looked at him because he took away her choice, her humanity.
Maybe she wouldn’t hate him. Maybe she wouldn’t see living forever as the curse he saw it to be. Maybe their love would be ageless, a timeless treasure, and they could watch eternity pass together.
He held her tighter against his chest. Too many maybes. He would never make such a permanent decision for her without her consent.
Lukas embraced her, choking on a sob when he heard her heart stop and then stutter again. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “I love you.”
She coughed.
He drew back, cradling her in his arms.
A labored breath filled her lungs.
“That’s it. Just breathe.”
Another breath. And in his mind, he heard the sweetest sound.
I love you, too.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kane released Mulac from his custody and took a tentative step toward Marguerite. “Rita, you live.”
Issa moved closer to Mulac as Marguerite nodded in answer. Kane opened his arms to his mate, but she backed away.
“What is it?” Kane frowned, taking a step toward her. “Are you hurt?”
“Not anymore,” the Guardian replied, putting himself between them again.
“Anymore?” Kane frowned. “The Demon.” Issa felt his brother’s rage building. “She hurt you.”
“No, yes,” she said quietly. “I thought she was you. You attacked me.”
The Guardian spoke before Kane could react. “Camalotz is near. You have Ch’en. The ceremony must begin. Now.”
Calisto rose to his feet, standing in front of the Goddess of the Moon. “I do not know this Ch’en you speak of, but I will not allow you to harm Kate in her place.”
“There is no other way,” Issa replied, his voice low and hushed.
Calisto turned toward him, but Issa would not meet his eyes. “Please, you must believe I did not know about the law to make no more than one Night Walker. If someone must be punished, it should be me. Spare her…”
“Enough!” Issa screamed. “There is no law. Whatever Mulac has told you is false. He lied to you both.”
Calisto’s brow furrowed. His gaze shifted to Mulac before once again staring at Issa’s dark features. “Then why have you taken us prisoner?”
“Because the woman you now call Kate was once our Goddess of the Moon. She brought Camalotz, the Night Demon, into this world millennia before this one, and only her sacrifice can banish the Demon again.”
Kate stepped up beside Calisto. “That’s how I know you. I’ve seen you when I dream. You were there when this happened before…”
Mulac’s sudden burst of cynical laughter filled the cavern. “He was much more than that, Kate. Issa, my immortal brother, is the executioner. He ripped your heart from your chest while it still pulsed in his hand.”
“Stay away from her,” Calisto growled. “This is all a mistake. Kate has been with me since the night I gave her my blood. She has not summoned any demons.”
“There is no other way to have freed Camalotz,” Kane said. “The Demon awoke from her slumber the moment Ch’en was once again immortal, and she was freed into this world when Ch’en called her forth.”
“My name is Kate, not Ch’en.” Just the sound of her voice tore at Issa’s heart. Her name might have changed, but her old soul remained. “I’m a choir teacher. I wouldn’t know how to bring a demon into the world even if I wanted to.”
Calisto’s eyes locked onto his maker’s face. “But Mulac would.” He pointed at the white-haired immortal. “That is why you wanted Kate to drink from you. It was not to make her stronger. It was to make her call the Night Demon into the world for you.”
Issa narrowed his eyes at Mulac. “You found this woman and fed her from your own veins? You knew who she was, and you never told us you’d seen her.”
Calisto interrupted. “Mulac came to us in San Diego and told us other ancients would be hunting Kate because I had made more than one Night Walker. If she drank his ancient blood, he said she would be stronger against an attack. When she drank, she saw his memories. He coaxed her to say something…”
“Ko’oten,” Kate whispered. “I didn’t know what it meant.”
“It means ‘come,’” Issa said quietly. “And only from your lips could that word free the Demon. You called Camalotz into this world, even if you did not mean to.”
“And only through your sacrifice can Camalotz be banished again.” Colin rose up from the stone table to stand at Issa’s side. He looked completely restored except for his disfigured arm. He kept it cradled in the palm of his other hand.
Calisto shook his head. “There has to be another way.”
Issa sighed, wishing with his entire being for any other solution. “There is no other way. The magic will only banish the Demon when we seal the ceremonial fire with the blood sacrifice of the one who called her.”
“Then take him.” Calisto gestured toward his maker. “Mulac called her. He used Kate’s lips, but it was his heart who called the Demon. Take his heart to silence her.”
“This does not make sense,” Kane interrupted. “Why would Mulac give Ch’en the word to free the Demon that we all fought so hard to silence?”
Mulac smiled, but his gaze was cold and distant. “Calisto will say anything to keep his beloved’s heart inside her chest.”
Calisto’s fists tightened at his sides.
Kate looked at each of the immortal brothers. “I don’t speak Mayan, and I didn’t know anything about a Demon. How could I have called her back without the words? Mulac must’ve put the words in my head when I drank from him.”
Colin stepped forward toward Mulac. Issa noticed his usually congenial expression darkening. “Are you the one I should thank for this arm that will never heal?”
“Are all of you so short-sighted?” Mulac’s voice echoed through the pyramid. “Why must we fight her? Let Camalotz finish this world as she finished the world of man before us.” His eyes moved from one brother to the next as he went on. “We will be gods again, my brothers. Worshiped, revered, feared, and honored above all else. No longer will we hide in the shadows and watch eternity pass us by. We will be eternity.”
Issa crossed his arms over his chest. “She will kill us all.”
“No! Can you not see? We have Ch’en. Allow Camalotz to decimate the human world, and then we will cage her before she comes for us. Think of the future! Once again we will sit at the top of the temples. We will drink the blood sacrifices offered to us out of love and devotion, not as monsters, but as the gods we have always been.”
“You did summon the Demon,” Colin said. “You found Ch’en, and you gave her the words to free Camalotz into the world of man.”
“Yes!” Mulac’s prideful laughter echoed off the walls. The sound curdled in Issa’s stomach. “I waited for centuries to find her and regain our place in this world, my brothers. This was no easy task. You should thank me!”
“What?” Issa stared at Mulac with disbelief in his eyes and disgust in his soul. “How could you do this, Mulac? We are the protectors of this world, not the destroyers.”
Mulac’s laughter faded away, replaced by a stare that breathed pure hatred. “Who are you to judge me, dear Issa? You, who abandoned our world, hiding yourself away under the sands of Egypt.” He spun around. “And what of you, Kane? You, too, abandoned our people. You and Colin made your way across the ocean to live with the humans, among them. Have you no pride? No dignity? You were gods!
“I was the only one who remained in our land. I watched our civilization and our people die a slow, painful death. The Spanish brought with them a new religion, a new God, and left no room for any others. Our codexes were burned. Our written language destroyed, our ceremonies scoffed, and our people converted until we were all but forgotten. Where were all of you?”
Mulac pulled his white hair back from his forehead, pacing the floor. “I could not bear to watch the
se small-minded mortals destroy our world, but I could not fight them alone. So I went North. I found another ocean, the Pacific, and I found a new people, a new place among the Kumeyaay. I was their healer, their wise one. And I waited.
“The Spanish came again.” His eyes glowed a deep crimson. “Again they brought with them their merciless God, turning the native people into their slaves, abolishing their culture. But while the natives were being baptized and renamed as neophytes into the Catholic church, I found her.” He pointed to Kate and a spark lit his eyes. “Ch’en. She was the chief’s daughter, and her eyes bore the mark. She dreamed of jungles. She lived again, in spite of our efforts.
“And she was in love with one of the priests. I saw them dancing in the ocean waves in the moonlight, and in that moment, I knew how to defeat the Spaniards. We could regain our thrones and rule as gods again. I would use Ch’en to awaken Camalotz.”
“But the Spaniards killed her before you could give her your blood,” Calisto said.
“Yes!” Mulac growled. “They killed her before the next sunset.” His eyes met Calisto’s. “So I gave you my blood instead.”
“You told me I could live to love her again,” Calisto said.
Mulac nodded. “Not all gods send you to Heaven.” He sneered. “I knew she would be born into this world again, and when love is pure, the heart will find its mate even when the mind has forgotten. If I kept you in this world, eventually she would live again, and she would find you.”
“And then you would sentence her to death,” Calisto growled.
“I did what had to be done to right this world.”
“This is not our world anymore, Mulac.” Issa gestured toward the jungle. “We have no place in it.”
“Ah, but we will. Give Camalotz more time. We are safe from her hunger for now. We have Ch’en. When the world is ours again, we will perform the ceremony and sacrifice the Goddess of the Moon. The Demon will be banished, and we will rule once more.”