She started to keen, anguished and petrified at my touch.
I repeated her name, but it was as if she didn’t hear me. The moment I got her leg free, she kicked me. I stumbled back, lost my footing and slipped in the blood and dust. The second I stood, Lizbeth appeared out of nowhere.
“No one runs away from me.” The queen flew through the air. I barely saw the trace of her body before she tackled me into an empty exam table. The edge slammed into my lower back. Something cracked. The gurney crashed to a stop against the opposite wall. I landed on the floor and had the wind knocked out of me in the process. Snarling, Lizbeth pinned me to the ground. Her long, pointed fangs extended in excitement.
Like a viper striking its prey, Lizbeth sank her teeth into my neck. I grabbed a fist full of her curls and pulled in an attempt to pry the vampire from my throat. I kicked and scratched as the queen—fangs in flesh—ripped her head from side to side like a rabid dog. Skin tore. Blood gushed. I screamed out in pain, rolled to my side and managed to throw her off me. She scrambled on all fours, my blood dripping from her mouth. Each time her palm made contact with the cement floor, her nails clicked.
Pounding footsteps sounded in the hall outside of the room and I looked to the door with hope. Dante, blood dripping from a wound on his forehead, stumbled through the door. Relief washed through me.
“Get Hannah out of here!”
“Ella—”
“Now!”
I barely got the words out before Lizbeth was on me again. The bitch was fast. Despite her size, she was strong. In a matter of seconds, Lizbeth had me face first on the ground. The bony knee she drove into the middle of my back kept me immobilized. I reared my head back and hit her square in the face.
“Whore,” she hissed.
Hot blood dribbled onto my back and it felt like it was melting through the fabric of my shirt. I scrambled away from Lizbeth. A piece of broken wood became my only goal. I curled the makeshift weapon into my hand and waited.
There was no time to think, nothing but the surging adrenaline that kept me alert when Lizbeth grabbed me by my ponytail. This was my only chance. She flipped me onto my back so hard my head collided with solid concrete. Stars danced in front of my eyes, but I could not lose focus.
“The prophecy,” she hissed in my ear, “foretells of a demon son. A son. Not your mate, but the child you shall bear him. The first and only demon-vampire hybrid. I’ll make sure that never happens.”
The knife in Lizbeth’s hand gleamed. All I could see in the reflection of the silver blade was the determined glint in my electric eyes.
“Fuck you,” I muttered.
With the last bit of fury I had, I plunged the broken wood into Lizbeth’s heart, just as she drove her knife into my stomach just above my pubic bone.
White. Hot. Pain.
Lizbeth twisted the knife up from my belly to my sternum in one quick jerk. I heard the sound of wet, ragged cutting. Above me, the queen gasped in shock and looked down at the stake in her chest. Her eyes widened. The perfect porcelain of her skin shaded to gray. Not so perfect anymore.
I watched her demise with fierce satisfaction.
The graying skin wrinkled, sagged and rotted away, one gruesome layer at a time, until only bone remained. Seconds later, ash was all that remained of Lizbeth Tepes, Queen of the Vampires.
When I tried to breathe, I couldn’t. Sticky, thick blood pooled beneath me. I looked down, saw the crimson stain spreading. I lifted my gaze to the horrified expression on Dante’s face.
Hannah clung to him with broken, ragged fingernails. She sobbed into his chest, all the while trying to curl her body into a tiny ball. His big hand smoothed over her tangled hair and he clutched her closer. From the hard, cold floor I stared up them and knew Hannah would at least make it out of here alive.
Footsteps pounded nearby and I tensed. Demons? More vampires?
Micah’s scent filled the room and relief washed over me. I tried to reach out to him but couldn’t feel my limbs. Only numbness. He threw himself to the ground next to me and dust plumed into the air.
“No, oh god, baby. No.”
He tore off his shirt and with shaking hands pressed the balled-up fabric to the open wound splitting me in half.
Pain engulfed me when he applied pressure. I cried out. Micah bent and rested his forehead against mine as he stroked my cheek with wet, bloody hands. “Shush, it’s okay. I’ve got you now. It’ll be fine.”
It so wasn’t going to be fine.
“I love you,” I croaked.
Liquid rust stung the back of my throat. I coughed and something thick bubbled out of my mouth. Micah wiped it away and pressed his mouth to mine almost desperately.
When he pulled back his lips were painted in my blood. “I love you more than anything. Jesus, Ella.”
My eyes fluttered shut and the darkness closed in. Micah slapped me.
“Stay with me,” he ordered in a fierce whisper.
Behind him, a shadow filled the doorway. Wisps of smoke curled into the darkness and I knew it was Castro. “She needs blood if she is to survive this.”
“The prophecy,” I rasped.
Castro knelt beside us.
“Save your strength, little hunter.”
I shook my head and knew I had to say to this. “A demon son.” I coughed. “Not you, but the child we’ll have. A son.”
Micah’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Arm, Micah,” Castro demanded.
Without hesitation, Micah laid out his arm. In one quick slash, Castro drew a blade across Micah’s flesh. The delicious scent of his blood filled me. Micah pressed his dripping arm to my lips and I choked on the rush of liquid. When I tried to pull away, Micah held my head and urged me to drink. Instinct took over and I swallowed.
A pint, or two, of Micah’s blood later, Castro intervened. “Enough, let me take over,” he said.
Micah withdrew his arm and, when I would have said something, the blistering heat of Castro’s blood burned my lips. I gasped, but didn’t pull away. I couldn’t get enough. They repeated the ritual back and forth, forcing blood into me until some of the damage started to heal. The dizzy haze clouding my mind in a gray mist began to clear.
“This is going to hurt.” That was my only warning.
The knife in my gut came out more painfully than it had slid in. My back arched off the ground and splashed down into the pool of blood beneath me. Micah placed a hand on either side of my waist to push the long gash together.
The smell of burnt flesh hit me first. Then there was the pain of fire. Castro used the palm of his hand, now radiating heat like a branding iron, to cauterize the wound. My flesh sizzled and crackled.
I passed out.
Chapter Nineteen
I drifted in and out of consciousness. My wakeful periods were indistinct, unreal. Micah scooped me into his arms. The lulling sound of his heartbeat pulsed in my ear, the warmth of his chest and the scent of him soothed me back into darkness. The fierce words of comfort he breathed made it all disappear.
I caught snippets of conversation between Micah and Castro. Their voices jumbled together and I was having a hard time determining who was saying what. I picked out only pieces here and there. I felt like I was playing one of those word games my sister liked so much, with a decidedly dark twist.
Hannah had been five the first time she’d come to me with a set of blocks. On each cube was a word. She would mix them up and ask me to tell her a story with the words that showed. At ten, I was more interested in throwing knives than playing games with my kid sister. I’d just stare at her. She’d give me a stomp of her tiny foot and a swish of her hair. Then she’d proceed to tell me a story. Over the years, the words got more complex and the stories more intricate.
My mind whirled around the words I overheard and I imagined them on blocks. I pictured Hannah’s beautiful face, the hopefulness in her eyes that this time, I would play with her. Fine.
Hannah, pretty. Blood,
necessary. I’ll kill you, Julian, motherfucker. Queen, dead. Not going to make it, me? That was the best I could do considering I’d just been gutted. The harder I thought about my stupid game, though, the less pain I felt. I kept making new sentences. The more I played, the more lucid I became.
“He can save her,” Castro was saying. I felt his irritation like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. He must be upset if he was projecting his emotions.
“Over my dead body,” Micah growled.
The lash of Castro’s anger was fiery.
“It will be over your dead body if you refuse this! Do not let your pride interfere with common sense. The moment her heart stops beating, so does yours. Listen to me.” There was more emotion in Castro’s words than mere friendship. In my semiconscious, pain-drugged state, I heard love. Castro loved him.
We were steps outside of the abandoned hospital when Castro spoke. I looked around, saw Micah’s beat-up black Mustang parked next to Dante’s truck. Micah had said something about Hannah, but I couldn’t make out how Castro had replied.
Through half-opened eyes, I watched Castro slash his wrist. Blood boiled out of his hot veins and the pungent scent of it made my gums ache. I knew I was in bad shape because, despite how my gut clenched with hunger, my fangs didn’t lengthen. Erectile dysfunction. I had vampire ED, on top of everything else.
Using the same slashing motion he used to open a vein, Castro tore open a hole in our dimension. I had never actually seen a demon portal being created. Power surged and the air swirled into a dark, shimmering gateway. Blue lines of electricity crackled in the entrance. Castro strolled through and vanished.
“Hannah, Dante?” I asked.
“She’s fine,” Micah tried to soothe. “Don’t talk.”
“Where is she?” I asked through a cough that brought up blood.
He ground his back teeth. “Dante took her to the Vault. Castro has called in a full medical team to help her. It’s where we’re going now.” Micah picked me up and followed Castro.
Moving through the portal sent me into a nauseated abyss. My body convulsed and my newly mended insides felt like they were tearing. By the time I came awake, Micah’s footsteps echoed off the stone. This was a section of the Vault I hadn’t seen. The same gray brick lined the walls, but instead of overhead lights, the illumination in the tunnel came from the flickering glow of recessed torches. A long, intricately woven rug covered the ground.
I braced myself for the assaulting music and electric buzz of demons. I encountered neither. The air smelled of cloves. Micah walked through an open door and into a softly lit room. A lush, oval bed took up the center of the stone cave. Purple-flamed candles burned on the rich mahogany dresser, vanity table and armoire.
In a corner of the room, Castro sat cross-legged in an oversized black leather chair. How in the hell had he beat us here? Hadn’t he been right in front of us? His black pants and black silk shirt melted into the curved contours of the chair. The dark, menacing scowl he wore made my heart beat just a little faster. His anger was tactile.
Micah laid me carefully on the bed. He stepped away and paced. His footsteps thudded on the floor and then grew silent when they hit the rug. Thud. Silence. Thud. Silence.
“There isn’t any other way?” Micah asked.
He drew a bloodstained hand through his hair and stopped pacing in front of Castro.
“You’re absolutely sure there isn’t anything else we can do? Maybe if I give her more blood?” He sounded pained.
“I could give her blood from every creature in this place. It would prolong her life for a short while, but it wouldn’t heal her. The damage is too great. I’m sorry, Micah. Vampires can heal a lot of things, but she is different. She is a living vampire. The same rules of immortality don’t apply when the heart beats.”
“Then do it,” Micah growled. “But don’t expect me to play nice.”
Castro rose in one fluid sweep. “I’ll make the arrangements for Ella. Then I’ll see how our young Hannah fares. They’ve set the broken bones in her arm and fingers. She won’t need surgery, but it took forty-five stitches to close all the cuts. I fear most of the damage is psychological. When she comes out of sedation, we will see. Dante has not left her side.”
“What?” Micah shook his head. “Forty-five stitches? We only just got here.”
“The portal wasn’t stable,” Castro said. “Time moves differently depending on where you travel. Dante and Hannah have been here for two hours.”
As if I was an invalid, or already dead, the demon lord didn’t look at me when he pushed aside a blue velvet curtain hanging on the wall. He vanished through it and left Micah and me alone.
“What is he about to arrange?” Forcing my words to come out in a single, unbroken string took a great deal of effort. My voice was breathy and hoarse.
I tried to push myself into a sitting position, but my muscles weren’t working. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my vision darkened.
“Don’t try to move, you’ll just hurt yourself worse. Your patch job won’t last for long.”
Micah sat on the bed and brushed my hair back from my forehead. Fatigue and anger shone in the corners of his bloodshot eyes. Were these my last moments with him? Was this purple velvet bed my final resting spot? I was going to be royally pissed if it was.
“Why didn’t you wait?” he asked in a deceptively soft voice.
Tears gathered in my eyes.
“I couldn’t. God, Micah, I listened to Hannah’s screams over an intercom. I heard her bones breaking as I searched room after room. The bitch had her strapped in the pitch black to this archaic operating table. She was naked and bleeding, and…” I looked up, felt my lower lip tremble. “Dante was with me. But even if I’d been alone, I still would have gone in because she’s my sister. I don’t regret it.”
The fogginess around my vision was increasing. I now understood what Micah had said about the patch job being temporary. How much longer did I have?
Micah’s restraint broke and his quiet voice vanished. He jumped from the bed. Lizbeth’s ashes covered his pants and adhered to the blood painting his naked chest. His sudden movement sent up a puff of dust.
“I know, god damn it. You think I don’t know you’d do anything for her? I almost killed myself avenging my sister. And I’d give my life for Eli, but fucking Christ. I can’t lose you. I won’t give you up. I’ll do whatever has to be done to keep you alive, I’m telling you that now.”
What exactly was Castro arranging? “What does that mean, Micah?”
He didn’t meet my eyes.
“I’ve got to find a way to check in with Roy and see how Eli is doing. He needs to know you and Hannah are safe. Who the hell knows how much time has passed topside.”
He drew out his cell phone and turned his back on me. The conversation, apparently, was over. Did he really think he’d get cell service down here, wherever here was? I was going to argue, but the curtain on the wall moved aside and I closed my mouth. Dante’s large body eclipsed the adjoining room. Cradled against his chest was my sister. Washed, docile and clothed only in a man’s dress shirt, she looked like a little girl. She clutched Dante’s shirt but the blank, vacant look in her eyes told me no one was home.
She had a black eye that was swollen shut and a split upper lip. What had Lizbeth done to her? Bandages covered her slender legs and the bottoms of her feet. Neon-pink plaster kept her right arm immobilized. The bright, cheery color seemed wrong given what had just happened.
“Hannah?” My voice was so small.
She didn’t stir at my words or even the sight of me. Hannah didn’t even blink. A day-old corpse would have had more life in her than my sister did.
Dante shook his head. “She hasn’t said a word since I brought her here.”
Micah stepped across the room. He stroked his hand over her face, gently touched her cheeks.
“Oh Hannah,” he sighed.
When his lips brushed her forehead, I fell a little bi
t more in love. The first sob was a tiny sound. The second was louder. I saw the tears before Hannah turned to Micah and threw herself into his arms as much as she was able with the bulky cast. He caught her, smoothed his hand up and down her back. Dante hovered close, as if he didn’t want to let her go.
In Micah’s strong, safe arms, my sister fell apart.
“Don’t cry. It’s over. I promise she can’t hurt you anymore. Ella got her.” Micah pulled back, gave Hannah the smile that melted solid objects. “I got the ashes all over me to prove it.”
“Oh my god, Ella.” Hannah’s tears began anew. “The vampire, she…she stabbed you.”
“Micah got there in time, I’m going to be fine.” I willed the cough in my throat away. I wouldn’t spew blood in front of my sister.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Micah has a plan.”
Hannah looked up at him and sniffled. “It better be a good one.”
“It’s a horrible one, but it will work,” he said.
“I’ll take her.” Dante’s deep voice rumbled.
Micah carefully slid Hannah into Dante’s arms. My throat started to close when the gentle lion settled into the leather chair and curled my sister against him as if she were made of porcelain. In his lap, she pulled her legs up under her shirt and tucked in close to Dante before she spoke.
“Did Eli…” More tears filled her eyes. “Is he alive?”
Micah crouched in front of her, tried to calm her with his eyes. “Eli is messed up, I won’t lie to you. But he’ll make it. He made it through one surgery and he was headed to another when I left. I’ll send someone to get another update.”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Why did all of this happen?”
“Julian,” I said and my voice was too weak to elaborate, to explain that he’d been sent to kill me but instead fell in love. I didn’t know how to process that information or how to explain we were born with recessed vampire traits.
As if my words had conjured him, I felt my sire’s presence.
Castro came back through the curtains. Behind him was Julian. My skin crawled with the power emanating from him. Was he even more powerful? His electric gaze moved over my face.
Dark Cravings Page 23