Entangled

by Olivia Stocum

  He let go, Kendra catching herself on his arm. “I would not hurt you,” he said.

  “Good to know and all, but right now I have something I kind of have to do, and I need to do it without you.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but she skirted around him, slamming the restroom door in his face.

  “I don’t care how old you are or how many wives you’ve had. I am not taking you in the bathroom with me.”

  “Kendra,” he warned from the other side of the door.

  “Follow, and you’re a dead man.” She didn’t yell. It wasn’t necessary. She knew he could hear her just fine.

  “Be fast,” she heard him say.

  He didn’t have to tell her twice. It was scary as hell in there by herself with all those places for vampires to hide, waiting and ready to grab her at a moment’s notice. Stop thinking about it, Kendra. She washed her shaking hands and came out, running straight into Alessandro, her sore nose banging against his sternum.

  He caught her arms. “Not so nice, being alone, habibti? I can smell your fear,” he finished the last part with a low hiss as if to over-prove the point.

  “I was just fine.”

  She touched her nose, realizing it was wet. Her fear wasn’t the only thing he could smell she bet. Kendra managed to tip her face back before getting blood on her new clothes.

  He handed her a napkin. “You should be more careful,” he said dully.

  She really wanted to punch him for that.

  Then she took a closer look and saw the stress on his face paving a crease between his brows. His scent had changed too, became more potent. Whether he realized it or not he was attracting her to him. Maybe it was instinctual. He knew she’d been scared, so naturally he wanted her closer to him.

  He smelled good.

  And he was looking at her like she was lunch.

  Kendra stepped around him, closer to the counter. He wouldn’t want to make a scene, right? He thought they could travel together long term. Not likely. What if she had an accident? How would he control himself then? What would happen when her period came?

  Now that was one awkward scenario she didn’t want to consider.

  He quickly paid for her food and they left.

  “Get in,” he told her, opening the car door.

  “I don’t think that’s a good...” She squeaked when he took her in his iron grip, putting her inside the car and closing the door so fast her head spun.

  He came around the other side and handed her food to her then started the car and peeled out.

  She put her seatbelt on, careful not to move the napkin away from her nose. They turned onto the highway. Her arm was getting kind of tired. She was pretty sure her nose had stopped bleeding but she kept her hand right where it was.

  “I can smell it anyway,” he told her. “I would smell your blood from a mile away.”

  Kendra looked at him in shock over what he’d just said. “A mile? You’re exaggerating.”

  “At least a mile, maybe more.”

  “Wow.”

  His expression softened, and then he smiled. “Have I impressed you?”

  “Oh, you did that a while ago.” She pulled the napkin away and balled it up. Rolling down the window, she started her new life as a litterbug. “Better safe than sorry,” she said, wanting to get the bloody napkin away from him.

  He shook his head at her.

  “For a moment there I thought I was dinner. Well, more like a midnight snack, I guess.”

  “No. Not you. Not dinner anyway, but maybe for a snack, yes.”

  She cleared her throat over that last part. “How can you be completely sure?”

  “You are talking to the oldest vampire in the world.”

  “Yes, I know I am. I remind myself that every thirty seconds.”

  He eyed her then continued. “Only a brainless child would kill his woman.”

  “Alessandro, I’m not yours.”

  His look spoke volumes.

  “Yes, I’m shutting up now.”

  “I had a hundred concubines,” he told her.

  That got her attention all right. “What?”

  “During our reign, Sha’re and I collected people. She had men who served her and I had women. If you want more than a meal, then you learn control. I told you that much before, but you did not believe me.”

  She detected bitterness in that statement but held her ground against him. “So, you think I’m your concubine.”

  “I didn’t say that. I said you were my woman.”

  A thrill shivered over her body. No. Don’t do that.

  She tossed her food bag behind the seat, unable to think about eating, pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them. “There are going to be more times like that, you know.” She pointed back the way they’d come.

  “It was that way,” he corrected, pointing in the other direction. “You’re the one who caused the scene.”

  She gritted her teeth against him. “I’ve never argued with anyone this much in my life.”

  He smiled. Just a simple—showing all of his emotions at once—smile. It made her warm all over. As if it wasn’t enough that he was hot. Did he have to do this to her too? Kendra peeled off her coat and tossed it in back. The Porsche was a two-seater so it was already stuffed.

  When she looked at him again he seemed more focused on her cleavage than he was the road.

  “Drive, please,” she said.

  He heaved a sigh. “We’re both hungry,” he said. “This day is as far as we’ll make it.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?” She knew, but she was hoping by some stretch of the imagination she’d been wrong.

  He reached over, touching her neck, causing a chain reaction in her body.

  “I did not ask for this,” she said through her teeth.

  “No one asks for it. I didn’t ask to be what I am.”

  No, he hadn’t. Sha’re had turned him because she’d remembered the parts of her life that had been good, and had sought to reclaim them, inadvertently starting a snowball that had led to Alessandro turning Theron, who had a bone to pick with Lothar, who was Kendra’s friend’s mate. Which had led Alessandro to her.

  All the stress was making her head hurt. Or maybe that was her blood pounding through her veins, thanks to his fingertips, oh-so-softly on her, as if taking in the texture of every baby-fine hair, every cell, the warmth of her skin as compared to his dropping body temperature; the blood beneath it, held back from him by such a fragile little layer of skin.

  Kendra buried her face in her hands, careful not to bump her nose and cause more problems. She really needed to stop over-thinking this.

  “You’re getting increasingly agitated,” he said, palm smoothing over her hair.

  “I have been since you walked into my life.”

  “Saved your life.”

  “Debatable.”

  “You’re upset because of me, habibti.”

  “Naturally,” she said.

  “I hadn’t meant for it to be like this. I’d hoped it wouldn’t.”

  She looked up finally. “Sharing your real thoughts? Or do I have to guess.”

  His jaw flexed like he was gritting his teeth. Boy, she had a way of pushing all of his buttons. Sure, provoke the vampire. Great idea, Kendra. She took a breath and tried to calm herself.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You seem to have an effect on me.”

  “You’re in my body,” he said softly, gently. “You offered yourself. And now we’re connected. I am sorry.”

  “Don’t say that. This kind of thing doesn’t happen.” Actually, it did happen. If her best friend could be a werewolf, then this could happen too. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”

  He showed his fangs, hissing. “I don’t want you to be one either.”

  It sounded unnatural when he talked around his fangs. Creepy. She shook it off. “Okay, that’s good then.” But what about the other parts? Was he going to spend the rest of her life dipping i
nto her blood reserves every few days so she didn’t go crazy? “Please tell me this can be undone.”

  He eyed her.

  “Because I can’t do this.” Or could she? “No way.”

  He watched her like she was in need of a padded room and some special meds. And maybe a straitjacket too.

  “There’s something you should know.” She tightened her grip around her knees. “Jason was a werewolf.”

  The Porsche stopped so fast she checked her neck for whiplash. They sat on the side of the interstate, cars whizzing by at mach ten.

  “You married a werewolf. Are you insane?”

  A semi roared by, rocking the little two-seater from side to side. Sure, she thought sarcastically, three thousand year old vampire, fine. A werewolf? No.

  “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was of you?” he continued his barrage. “If he had bitten you, you would have been dead.”

  “A bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

  “I have control of myself. Werewolves don’t even live long enough to learn control.”

  “Jason was a Carrier anyway. He didn’t have any venom.”

  He seemed to be considering that. His face changed, was more thoughtful than protective now. “How did the other wolves allow that to happen?”

  “We didn’t know what he was. He didn’t even know what he was. He’d been raised human. We knew he was different, but since Carriers don’t morph into wolves we never understood why.”

  “Yes, I can see how that might happen.” He shook his head. “You are trouble.”

  “Gee, thanks. And I didn’t mean for things to be like that. It just happened.”

  “You’ve been caught up in this for a while, habibti.” He’d gone from irate to his seductive voice. This man was going to give her whiplash all right. The emotional variety.

  “It was kind of fated, or something like that,” she said.

  “You didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into.”

  “It does seem to be following me.”

  “That settles it then.” After a quick check for the traffic flow he pulled back onto the highway.

  “Settles what?”

  “You’re staying with me.”

  “Alessandro?” How did he do that? Just decide stuff.

  “I’ll use you to rein in my son.” He smiled widely, his fangs showing. “Do not worry. We’ll have the werewolves kill him. Meanwhile, I’ll get you out of there and away from everyone.”

  Everyone? As in everybody she knew and loved. She saved that argument for another time since it was a biggy. “I thought you were going to kill him yourself.”

  “I just want him gone. Anyway, that was before.”

  Before. It sounded really serious, especially the way he’d said it, like B.C.E. and C.E. As if there was a solid line drawn between them.

  “I can’t protect you and destroy him at the same time,” he said. “If I turn my back on you for a second it will be too late. We’ll get him to chase us. Once he has, I’ll alert the werewolves. They’ll send in the local packs, and we will leave.”

  Getting on with that part about isolating her from friends and family, no doubt. The man had narcissist written all over him—and yet not, because he actually cared about what became of her, and he really couldn’t help being what he was. Erg, this was all so confusing.

  Alessandro reached over, finding her hand. Even though he was scaring her with all this talk of the future, she wanted more than his hand. She wanted to crawl onto his lap and feel his arms around her, to arch her neck back, to expose her throat to his fangs.

  This was bad. Very bad. She shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

  “You’ll be all right,” he said smoothly, misinterpreting her silence. “Tomorrow night we’ll find a Red Cross for me. Then I’ll take care of you. It’s easier if I’ve fed first. Besides, it’s the best way to keep you in me, if I have you last.”

  No, just no.

  She looked at her hand in his, on her knee since she still had her feet tucked up. He was cooler than her, yes, but not quite cold. It was like touching someone who didn’t have the best circulatory system. There was nothing odd about it, unless you knew the real cause. Kendra leaned her head back and focused on breathing before she blacked out from all the hitching and heaving going on in her lungs.

  There was no way she was going to allow him to feed off her again. She would just have to decide on that right here, right now.

  He let go of her hand to reach back for her food. “Please, eat,” he said.

  She took it, unfolding her legs. Yes, when your boyfriend needed your blood, you had better eat well.

  “Maybe we should start feeding me more beef.”

  “Just take care of yourself and you will be fine.” He paused. “Or better yet, let me take care of you.”

  “I take care of myself.” She opened the bag and took out her sandwich. “Eventually, I’ll need something better than this stuff.”

  “Rome should do. Mortals seem to like it.”

  She took a bite, and then another, realizing how hungry she really was. Kendra popped the seal on her iced tea and drank. This was going to lead to yet another embarrassing bathroom break she realized.

  “So,” she asked, mainly to distract herself. “Where’s all your money come from?”

  “Different places. I own land here and there.”

  “In the Middle East?”

  “Among other places, yes.”

  “You’re an oil dealer?”

  “Oil. Gold. Diamonds. I wouldn’t worry if I were you. We won’t run out anytime soon. Certainly not in your lifetime.”

  “So if we, you know… Totally hypothetical situation, of course.”

  His brows lifted.

  “What would you do after I’m gone?”

  She watched his profile while he frowned out the windshield. “I don’t know.”

  His words were hollow.

  He’d move on is what. Find another woman and start all over again. That bothered her, not because she was one of many; at his age that was just a given, but because for him love was transitory. No such thing as, ’till death do we part for him.

  “That’s just sad.”

  “How is it sad?”

  “You’re talking about dedicating decades of your life on me, and then I’m just gone.”

  “I could give myself over to the werewolves, and let them deal with me.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve no choice but to live in the moment.”

  “No, I guess you don’t.”

  When you’ve lived an eternity you love in the moment. An odd sort of irony, but it made sense, all the same.

  She finished her food in silence then sat back, closing her eyes. She felt his hand on hers and her lips betrayed her by smiling the moment she felt him.

  “You make me crazy,” she whispered.

  “It could be worse.”

  Yeah. She could walk off on him, tell him she hated his guts and wound his all too real heart, or turn him over to the werewolves.

  So, what was worse? Letting this, whatever it was, take its course, or leaving him to his wanderings? He could find another woman, sure. But would she take care of him? Would she understand him? Would she want him only for money, sex, and power?

  Kendra couldn’t take that.

  It broke her all too real heart.

  God help her, but she was falling for the vampire.

  Chapter Seven

  They’d stopped for the day, and Alessandro watched Kendra sleeping, peacefully now. Exhaustion had claimed her as the sun had come up. He would sleep too. Soon. He’d rather watch her white skin and golden hair in the gloom of the closed blinds blocking out the sun, blocking out the world beyond their four walls. She was her own source of light. A pinpoint of white in a black world.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  1903 C.E. Teresa St. James’s smile could have pierced the darkest pit of Hell. It co
uld pull him out of Hell too, and for a time it had.

  He’d been living among mortals, moving often as was his habit, buying land with money he’d earned by discovering and then raiding tombs in Egypt. Yes, he’d sold out his own people, but he’d felt no guilt. He’d been a peasant in his natural life. He was only taking what had been stolen from him and others like him in the first place.

  He’d wandered the world in search of something that at the time had been so outside of his grasp that he couldn’t even put it into words.

  Purpose.

  He knew now that he’d been looking for his purpose, his reason for existing. Like the fictional Count Dracula, he’d eventually found himself in London.

  Back then, he’d been feeding off humans. He could have gotten his blood from hospitals and research labs. With the advance of human society came options. But he hadn’t.

  He’d been in the habit of killing. He preferred to kill men. He didn’t like to kill goddesses. It was impossible not to taste them however. He would use his pheromones to draw her in, drink enough to satisfy, and then use mind control to make her forget it had ever happened.

  The scars left behind on his victims were all too real, and sadly, most written fiction about vampires came from monsters like him, too human to avoid the city altogether. Too bestial not to have a taste. The stories were, in the end, just stories. In the Victorian Era, humanity was easing its way out of superstition, so the marks were usually dismissed as anything but the bite of a humanoid.

  Alessandro had first met Teresa St. James through her father, whom he’d had business with. Alessandro’s aversion to all light that came from fire—the sun, candlelight, fireplaces, meant he normally utilized a paid middleman when doing business, but some things needed to be done in person, and he’d made strides in his reputation as every bit the rich eccentric. When you owned mineral rights people treated you like nobility, no matter how strange you were.

  Tessa was a dreamy young woman who had sensed him from the start. He’d known better than to approach her. One slip with the wrong man’s daughter would have meant leaving London, changing his name, and starting a new life.

  But she was always there, with her father, assisting him. She was a skilled bookkeeper and took shorthand, had used her skills as an excuse to keep seeing Alessandro. Her father hadn’t stopped her. Dollar signs had entranced him. An alliance with someone as rich as Alessandro would have benefited the whole family.