Enemy Within (Vampire Born Trilogy, #2)

by Kace, Angeline

  I wet my lips. Anticipation skips down my stomach to my groin.

  I drop my head to a lick away from her skin, and she shivers when my breath strokes her on my exhale.

  I can’t wait any longer.

  I latch my mouth over her flesh, gently grabbing her skin between my teeth before I extend my fangs.

  She quietly whimpers when the skin breaks, but then her blood meets my tongue and a dance of ecstasy transfers between us.

  Her breathing increases and her blood pumps faster into my mouth.

  I jerk away before I get to the fourth swallow.

  Holy shit, that’s intense.

  Possession unlike anything I’ve ever felt takes hold. I can’t bear her sharing this with someone else. I told her it will be different with Mrs. Tomic, and it will, but I still resent it.

  Yet, her life depends on this arrangement, so I put on my commander’s face and lick the wound until it stops bleeding. I zip up her dress and turn her around by her shoulders.

  She faces me, her mouth gaping open. Her eyes reflect how I feel inside.

  “The bite, the moment when my fangs broke your skin, that’s the only part that will be the same.”

  Her tangy fluid lingers on my tongue and in my throat, and I regret ever pulling away from her.

  Confirmation: definitely addicted.

  She nods. “I . . . Mirko . . . that was incredible. I wasn’t anywhere near that controlled or delicate when I bit you.”

  “It takes practice.” Something we’ll not be afforded. I would love for her to stay and watch me get dressed, but her mom will come searching for her soon. “Will you tell your mom I’ll be down in a moment?”

  She leaves, and it takes everything I have to regain control.

  ***

  When the Tomics greet us at their front door, Mr. Tomic appears surprised to see me. “We knew you were bringing an escort, but we weren’t expecting a Zao Duh.”

  He doesn’t so much as greet me before saying something degrading. This is why I try to stay lighthearted about life. There’s a lot I can dwell on: a stronger race who thinks less of me and mine, their racism, and everything else unbalanced in our world.

  Brooke picks up on it. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to come with me.”

  I delight in her bold reply, but at the same time silently urge her to tamp it down and not mess up the meeting.

  “I see. Come in, come in.”

  The white foyer is filled with the aroma of baked lamb. The high ceilings hold the cold air from our entrance and it flows back down over us as we follow Mr. Tomic down a pristine corridor, the clap of Brooke and her mom’s shoes echoing—of course, a Pijawika couldn’t live in anything average. It all has to be upscale and luxurious. At least if their dwelling is any indication of their worth, Brooke should be given a fair compensation for her service.

  Mr. Tomic stops a man in white who I assume is a member of the staff. “I need you to switch out one of the place settings on the lower end of the table to the third-tier china.”

  Even their china lets you know your placement in their world. It irks me, but I’m used to it.

  At least Brooke deserves as much in their eyes as to keep the second-tier china. The only ones who will eat off the first tier are the Tomics themselves. Everything with the Pijawikas is a power play to display their elevated status.

  When we reach the dining room, the staff is already scurrying to change out my dinnerware.

  Brooke looks at me with disgust when she realizes what Mr. Tomic meant about switching out the china.

  The staff takes away the beautiful white place settings with silver and gold woven into the porcelain and replaces them with smaller, bland ivory plates and drab silverware.

  Farther down on the table, the seats at the head are set up with polished gold knives, spoons, and forks, and the plates are larger and grander than all the rest. That is where Mr. and Mrs. Tomic will sit.

  I shake my head at Brooke, a silent warning for her to keep with the plan. We need the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, and my place settings aren’t worth giving up our only chance at keeping her alive.

  Brooke, her mom, and I stand at the table, all of us waiting until Mr. Tomic sits first and then Mrs. Tomic next.

  The staff brings out the soups and salads shortly after, and as Garwin described, the soup goes to the men, salads to the women. Brooke arches her lip when she stabs the spinach with her fork.

  I chuckle internally because it’s cute how my girl hates her vegetables. At the same time I’m proud of her for pushing it aside and being able to do what she needs to. But then frustration overpowers everything else within me. Frustration with myself for not being strong enough to keep Brooke alive on my own. Angry that I have to count on these people to come to the conclusion that Brooke is worthy for them to suck on her neck, so that maybe, maybe we could use that acceptance to take to her father and say, “See? They want her. Can we pleeeease keep her?” It pisses me off.

  Throughout dinner, I bite my tongue unless specifically addressed. The same goes for Brooke, but they actually talk to her. They ask her about school, about her plans after she graduates, all the normal stuff someone asks to get to know someone else. They steer clear of any conversation relating to Zladislov, which is a relief.

  Toward the end of the meal when I’m the last to get a refill on my drink, I notice Brooke open her mouth to say something. She must’ve had enough.

  I give her a stern look and she clamps her mouth shut, jaw clenching. I love how fierce she is and how she wants to defend me, but now is definitely not the right time to display any of that. The last thing we need is for the Tomics to pick up on how much Brooke cares for me.

  When the meal is finally over, the Tomics stand. We then follow, and they lead us out to the front of the house.

  We stop at the door as Brooke speaks to Mrs. Tomic. “You have a lovely home.” She turns to Mr. Tomic. “And your staff is so efficient and well mannered.”

  He beams. “Thank you, Brooke,” he says, as if that was a genuine compliment and he is genuinely grateful for it. “We’d like to work with the two of you. I’ll contact Mr. Syphis about the final arrangements.” And just like that, he makes the decision for them both, without even consulting her.

  Brooke’s mom smiles. She’s used to the Pijawikan customs, so I’m not sure if she’s bothered by any of it.

  But this was what we wanted from the meeting. They might give us bargaining power for Brooke’s safety, so I actually beam a little on the inside too.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Brooke

  I had all weekend to worry about whether my arrangement with Mrs. Tomic would actually go through. And everyone at Garwin’s house was starting to get a little stir crazy. A couple of fights broke out, but Mirko was quick in dealing with them and containing anything more serious. And he must’ve talked with Holly Anne because she steered clear of me.

  It was awkward tiptoeing around Jaren, though. He acted as if nothing changed. Was he not accepting that I’d chosen Mirko, or did he think my decision would change? Even through the awkwardness, he was pleasant to be around.

  When I get word Monday morning before school that everything is set with the Tomics, I’m ready to be done with it all. I’m wound tight about not knowing if our plan will be what we need to persuade my father, and if it is, what kind of life does that leave me?

  The world of the Pijawikas sucks. They’re incredibly strong, but they live in fear that any freedom given to anyone other than a male Pijawika will take all of that away. It’s stupid. And I really don’t want any part in it.

  And how long is it going to freaking take my father to come for me already?

  Mirko and Garwin are discussing if we should keep waiting him out, or if we should call him and try to negotiate now that the deal with the Tomics is done. By now, Mirko and I could’ve had a good lead if we’d run.

  Actually, I can’t regret not running. I’m home with my m
om and Kaitlynn, and I still have Mirko. As long as I have those constants in my life, I can deal with anything.

  First block is a bore.

  Second block is lame.

  Third block is actually kind of fun because Mirko shoots me bedroom eyes for the whole period. I can’t wait to get out of school and back to Garwin’s so Mirko can hide somewhere while he nibbles behind my ear. We did that a lot over the weekend, sneaking around and into each other’s rooms at night. That’s definitely in my top five favorite things. Ever.

  Maybe even my top three.

  We have this game where we try to drive the other to the edge of crazy first. He’ll nip my lip. I’ll suck on his tongue. Then he’ll nibble behind my ear. That drives me insane. I always expect him to bite me, but he never does.

  Fourth block starts and from the moment the bell rings, I can’t sit still. My legs bounce and I tap my pen like I’m practicing air drums for a rock show.

  I have to get out of here.

  “Mrs. Sandoval.” I raise my hand. “May I use the restroom, please?”

  She nods, so I hop up, grab the pass, and leave. I don’t look at Hawk because he’ll glare at me, maybe even have the nerve to chase after me.

  I wander down the hall, trying to imagine what my life will be like if Garwin and Mirko can talk my father into backing off.

  Mirko will have to stay in Virginia with me. Sure, he’ll go off and do his jobs and lead his men on whatever missions he used to, but he’ll always come back. Right?

  We’ve never really talked about the future. Mirko’s more of the “focus on the task at hand” kind of person, but ever since Jaren brought it up, I’ve been wondering.

  I reach the hall with the bathrooms but notice through the glass doors leading outside that it’s quit raining. November is probably my favorite month. At least in Virginia. It had already snowed in Utah when I was there, but in Virginia, November is crisp and cold, free of snow. The leaves explode with color and dance as they fall.

  Right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else but outside with November.

  I wander out the side doors and over to the large oak that shades the foyer. Last year’s student body president gifted the school with a nice little bench by the tree. It beckons me.

  I follow the pull and use my sleeve to wipe clean any remaining beads of water. I sit with a sigh and close my eyes.

  The high-noon sun warms my face. I listen to the crows as they squawk and bicker, and I inhale the fresh, moist air. The wet trees, the soaked grass and soil, all of it welcomes me and sets me at ease like nowhere else I’ve ever lived. This place is home to me, and it’s my favorite time of year. I’m glad I don’t have to miss it.

  I could live forever in Buena Vista. The Tomics live close enough that it isn’t hard to get to them, but I’m not sure if Kaitlynn can handle staying in town, though. She’s set on the idea of going out of state for college. We both were. But that was until—

  “Hello, Brooke.”

  My eyes shoot open.

  My father stands before me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mirko

  History at eleven o’clock in the morning?

  This is the experience Brooke was sad about missing? The seats are uncomfortable and creaky, and the desks are cold. The dull lighting has me fighting to stay awake.

  If only the seats were comfortable enough to find a position I could relax, I’d be fine with taking a nap.

  The book Mr. Braxton teaches from is mostly inaccurate, but even if it were accurate, I can’t be taught about history; I’ve lived it.

  I finally get over the urge to correct Mr. Braxton and resign myself to zoning out. Although I can never zone out completely; I’m always aware, always picking up tidbits of conversation or analyzing this smell or that jerk of the head. After so many years of training to use these acute senses, it’s difficult to turn them off.

  Even in a place as boring as Redrock County High. And it smells weird too. The boys either reek of sweat or too much cologne, the girls marinated in too much perfume. It makes me appreciate that Brooke doesn’t wear any. Her natural scent is subtle but sweet—the way I prefer it.

  Out of all the classes I could’ve picked to not have with Brooke, this is definitely the wrong one.

  She’s in art, with Hawk. That would be better—no, anything would be better than history with Mr. Braxton.

  The girl next to me eyes me again. She flips her red hair like that will suddenly make me realize how attractive she is. Do guys actually fall for that? Maybe these guys. They don’t know better.

  I turn away from her and stare at the door. The second hand on the clock moves slow enough to make molasses look fast.

  I’m about to raise my hand and ask to go to the bathroom—such a weird concept; let me interrupt the class to ask to go to the bathroom so I don’t disrupt the class—to get away from the drudgery when Brooke appears at the door out of nowhere. Her face is ashen and she waves for me to come out.

  Not good.

  Fear curdles in my stomach.

  I jump from my seat and flee the room, not caring to temper my speed to that of a teenage boy. “What happened?” I look up and down the hall, but it’s empty. “Where the hell is Hawk?”

  Mr. Braxton comes out.

  Inconvenient, but I face him and stick my hand out. “Here’s my note. We have to go.”

  He reads whatever his feeble mind tells him is there and nods, turns around, and shuts the door behind him.

  “My father’s here and he wants to go somewhere and talk.” Brooke’s voice cracks and her hands shake.

  Dammit. “Where is he? And where the hell is Hawk?” I survey the hall again.

  No one.

  I should’ve had Ace take art with Brooke, but he said he wanted to take chemistry with Kaitlynn.

  This school nonsense is ridiculous. If Brooke wants schooling, we’ll get her a damn tutor.

  I place my hand protectively on the small of Brooke’s back and lead her down the hall.

  “Hawk is in class, and my father is out in the quad.”

  “How many did your father have with him?”

  “It’s him and the blond guy you two were with when you came for me and Jelena at that hotel.”

  Zladislov and Emerik. Even with only them, the situation is risky.

  I stop in front of the art room and step away from Brooke to stick my head inside and call for Hawk. “Excuse me, but Hawk is needed at the office.” I make eye contact with the instructor using Sanjam to ensure she doesn’t argue. She nods and waits for Hawk to leave before she resumes her lecture.

  I stare him down as he comes out, glaring at Brooke.

  “What are you doing? You know better than to up and leave like that,” he says to her.

  “You should’ve followed her out,” I counter, but we’ll have to deal with that later. “Zladislov is here.”

  Hawk’s jaw drops. “Where?”

  “Outside.” I place my arm around Brooke’s waist and guide her down the hallway.

  We stop a few classes down and collect Holly Anne and Bruce. Those two along with Hawk make up the three blonds Jaren told David are Brooke’s cousins. We continue on until we reach the chemistry lab, and I pull Ace out to tell him what’s going on.

  Kaitlynn peers up at us, alarm on her face. I shake my head. She’s safer for now in class. I send Ace back in to watch over her. Bruce, Hawk, and Holly Anne will have to do.

  When we reached the hall that leads us to the quad, I stop. “You guys come with me,” I whisper. “Slatki, stay with Holly Anne, but you two keep quiet. Emerik will be able to hear anything you say or even if you as much as move.” Emerik’s power has to do with hearing. It goes beyond Pijawikan auditory capabilities. From what I’ve heard, he can actually manipulate sound waves.

  I’m pretty sure that skill comes in handy for the bodyguard to the leader of the vampire world.

  Brooke opens her mouth to protest, but I stop her. “You stay with her,” I
command. I look at Holly Anne, asking her to make sure Brooke stays put.

  When Holly Anne smirks, I know she will.

  I kiss Brooke on the forehead and lead the guys out the quad doors.

  “Zladislov, what brings you here?” I ask before the doors close and become one of the only barriers between Brooke and her father. I have to make sure he doesn’t get past us. That glass door offers Brooke nothing in terms of safety. Classes are in session, and this small school doesn’t have any security.

  I steel my shoulders and my face, putting up a confident front. Nuance is everything when dealing with someone of Zladislov’s caliber.

  “I came to speak with Brooke. She said she would return shortly,” he says, his attention draws to the doors.

  I shake my head. “Right now, I’m not sure it’s in her best interest to speak with you. What do you want, Zladislov?”

  He smiles, clearly amused that someone as unworthy as a Zao Duh is trying to deny him something. “And why is that?”

  I smirk. Games. It’s always games with Pijawikas. However, if I can delay him from making his move, I may be able to get some tell on what his plan is. “Because one of yours attacked Brooke at the Ogden Airport.”

  Zladislov sneers. “One of mine did no such thing.”

  “She did. I fought with her myself.” Could he really have no idea what happened?

  I doubt it.

  “Her? And what does this supposed attacker look like?” His face remains inscrutable. Still no sign of his intentions.

  “Black hair, cut to about here,” I put my hand to my chin to show him the length, “tall, slender, broad shoulders, and pointy nose.”

  Zladislov regards Emerik. “Sound familiar?”

  Emerik frowns. “No one I can recall. I would have to do some checking.”

  “As you can imagine,” Zladislov says, “my line is very big and widely spread. But you say you are sure she was one of mine?”

  I figured by this point Zladislov would’ve made his move. It throws me off he hasn’t. “Yes, Brooke witnessed her wearing the same znak you have hanging in your main hallway.”