“I don’t know. I’d ask for your blood, but I don’t think that’s the issue.”
He breathed out like a wild pig about to charge and growled, “Oh? You mean the bastard actually gave some back to you.”
She nodded, ignoring his mood and said, “And then Rayven gave me extra.”
“Rayven?” Jacob asked and gave a mock shiver. “That guy gives me the Wiggins. Have you looked into his eyes? There’s nothing there. Creepy.”
She snuggled her head into the warmth of his chest and said, “It’s not his fault. He came over wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
She told him what Xavior had told her and then extrapolated a bit. “I get the feeling the two were very like-minded and close when they were human, but now…”
“Now his brother is a zombie. Shit. That sucks.”
“I tried to offer him my blood, but Greyvian didn’t like the idea.” Reminded of her offer, she made a mental note to try again before they left, especially since the male had given his blood to her when she needed it.
“You think it would help?”
She shrugged and shivered as a wave of cold swept through her. “It’s worth a try. Don’t you think?”
“I guess,” Jacob replied noncommittally, pulling her closer to the warmth of his body and touching the backs of his fingers to her forehead at the same time.
“Fever and chills. This is not good.”
“I’ll be fine in a few days,” she replied, brushing the concern in his voice aside.
“I hope so. It can’t be good to lose as much blood as you have lately. Who stopped him this time?”
“No one. He stopped himself,” she replied, only now realising the significance of that. Was it because she meant something to him?
Jacob seemed likewise amazed, or perhaps, incredulous as he said, “He stopped himself? He who claims he can’t feed without killing, stopped himself?”
“I know. Amazing, right?” But he’d come damn close to killing her. Any longer and she wouldn’t be alive right now. She’d been so lacking in blood she’d felt as if she’d actually had an out of body experience. As if she’d floated above herself and seen how distraught he was that he’d almost killed her.
But that had to have been a product of her imagination, surely?
As if thinking about him conjured him up from out of thin air, Greyvian was suddenly standing in front of them and Jacob was talking to him—which led her to believe that she must have fallen asleep.
“…keep your damn fangs to yourself. Now she’s sick because of you.”
Looking up into Greyvian’s beautiful grey eyes, she was disappointed to see that his expression was neutral. His emotions were in hiding again. Damn.
“It won’t happen again,” he told Jacob, but she knew the message was more for her than for her best friend.
“Yeah, I reckon that’s what you thought the last time, wasn’t it?” Jacob retorted.
“Regardless, it won’t be up to my control any longer,” Greyvian replied calmly. “As soon as Rafe gets here, the two of them will be leaving for some place far from here.”
“What?” Jacob asked, incredulous.
“What?!” Sienna exclaimed, sitting up in outrage. Her head spun wildly, but she managed to focus through it, keeping her glare in place in the process.
“Keeping you here is foolish,” he replied, unfazed by their reaction. “You will be safer with Rafe. Safer as far away from my father—and me—as you can get.”
“I don’t want to be safer,” she replied. “I want to be with you.”
Something flashed in his grey eyes that she would have liked to explore further, but at just that moment a male she’d never seen before came into the room, followed by Knox.
“Guess who’s finally here?” the blonde said dryly, oblivious to the tension in the room. “And just in the nick of time too, if what he says about seeing your father and a bunch of his warriors hiding in the forest is true.”
Greyvian closed his eyes briefly and then turned to the new male. “How many?”
“We’re evenly matched,” the newcomer said, his husky voice and American accent perfectly matching his rough features. “There are fifteen warriors plus your father stationed at various vantage points around the manor. All of them armed to the teeth, of course. I hope you have enough guns and ammunition to cover us.”
Greyvian nodded and then cursed. “I really wish you had gotten here sooner.”
The male smiled slightly. “I’ve been here for days. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you would have realised that. You even ran past me a number of times.”
He looked at her then, his light eyes curious as he took her measure. “This is the human? She looks ill. What did you do to her?”
“Fuck. What did you do to her?” Knox cursed, finally noticing.
“I’m fine,” she replied, wishing they wouldn’t talk about her like she wasn’t there.
“You’re obviously not fine, and your scent is gone,” Knox said, glaring at Greyvian in accusation.
Grey ignored the male and looked at Rafe, asking, “Is there any chance of getting her out of here?”
“In one piece? Not so much.”
He nodded, as if he’d known that would be the answer. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
They headed for the door as Jacob made to get up, but Greyvian dismissed him with, “Jacob stay with her. We’ll call out if we need you.”
Her friend sank back down. “Super.”
As they left the room, she felt ill in a way that had nothing to do with almost dying. They weren’t true immortals. They could still die. Yes, Greyvian was super-fast and could kick ass like nobody she’d ever seen, but he could still die.
Fear made her want to throw up.
* * *
I don’t want to be safer; I want to be with you.
Greyvian tried to think tactics as he readied himself for meeting his father, the seemingly unstoppable force that he’d run from for over a century, the male above all other males who wanted him dead without question, but the words kept echoing in his mind, pulling focus. They made him feel… happy. That elusive emotion he remembered vaguely from early childhood, but not one that had frequented him since.
Yes. He was happy she felt that way, but it didn’t change the circumstances of their situation. Even if they made it out of this thing alive, she would never be safe around him. Yet even with that knowledge, he couldn’t deny that the corners of his mouth wanted to curl into a smile.
He blamed it on the aftereffects of drinking Sienna’s blood.
Striding through the mansion, he once again tried to force his mind to the present. His father was outside with fifteen of his warriors and they wanted to kill Sienna and probably every other one of them for the crime of their birth. He knew without doubt that it would come down to a fight, but he also wanted a chance to save them all the bloodshed. If he could talk to his father, perhaps come to an agreement, nobody had to die.
Even if talking wasn’t his strong suit.
Without a word, the others followed behind him, ready to follow him to their deaths. It troubled him that they would, but he knew that each had their reasons. Reasons that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with their own sense of self-preservation.
Directing the others towards the weapons cabinet, he approached the door closest to where his father waited, checking and double-checking each one of his knives to make sure they were easily accessible. As the half-breeds loaded up, he was thankful that he hadn’t had to train any of them in the use of firearms before now, as he knew full-well that they could shoot with accuracy—especially Rafe. The two had met under pretty tense circumstances: Rafe believing that Greyvian, being a full-blood, was going to kill him. Rafe had been more into shoot first, ask questions later, as the tactic had proved useful for him in the past. If Greyvian’s reflexes hadn’t been so sharp, the bullet that nicked his right bicep as he twisted away would have end
ed up in his heart. The fact that it had hit Greyvian at all had been impressive enough that Greyvian had allowed the half-breed to explain himself before possibly being put down for good. Needless to say, the two had come to an understanding.
It was a good thing too, as Rafe’s skills would no doubt come in handy on a day like today.
Committing himself, Greyvian put his hand on the door handle and was about to push when Katarina grabbed his arm.
“Let me go first,” she said. “I’m fairly sure he won’t shoot me on sight.”
Nodding, he let her go past. Ridiculously enough, she had a white piece of material on the end of a stick—the proverbial white flag—which she stuck out of the door as soon as she cracked it open an inch. When there were no flying bullets, she opened it further and stuck her head out.
“Can we talk?” she called out.
There was no immediate reply, but he could hear the distant murmur of voices. One of them was a deep timbre belonging to his father. He would know that voice anywhere. It had haunted his sleep for well over a century.
Clenching his hands into fists, he willed away the sudden unease that crept into his mind. His father was not a tyrant. The male had even loved him once. Yes, Kobus feared humans, but he was an intelligent male and could hopefully still be reasoned with.
If not… he wasn’t invincible. Greyvian would do what he must.
“Come,” his father’s command finally rang out into the silence, moving Katarina to open the door and step out into the clearing behind the mansion.
Sunlight streamed through the opening, the earthy scent of the forest came with it, along with a dozen or so foreign bodies and a whole lot of iron and steel. His father’s warriors were indeed armed to the teeth. Perhaps it was a little foolhardy to go out unarmed?
“Hello, Father,” Katarina said. “Do you promise not to shoot?”
“Come,” his father ordered again.
Looking out into the backyard, as much as you could call the grass clearing behind his mansion a backyard, Greyvian spotted his father walking slowly to the centre of the clearing. Two warriors stood behind him—the same two that had been Kobus’s bodyguards for the past few centuries. The same two that had almost killed him numerous times in the century he had run from his father. Strangely, he bore them no ill will. Nor his father for that matter. They were just doing what they thought they must.
“How’s Mother?” Katarina asked their father conversationally as she faced the warrior.
“Worried about you,” Kobus replied sternly. “As am I,” he added in a gentler tone. Then, with frustration, he added, “Now will you please stop this foolishness and come home?”
Katarina had always been Kobus’s favourite. It was the only reason Greyvian had allowed her to go out alone.
“What do you intend to do here?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if she already knew the answer.
“The human must die, Katarina,” their father replied with steel in his voice. “The threat of her existence cannot be allowed to remain. I won’t allow it.”
“What if she promised never to have children? Would you allow her to live then?”
“Humans breed, Katarina. It’s what they do.”
His sister snorted in derision. “And how many offspring do you and Mother have now? Twenty and counting?”
Kobus’s expression darkened. Greyvian shook his head. Katarina had never been the greatest negotiator—her tongue was too sharp.
Stepping out into the yard, he ignored the fact that every warrior in the vicinity snapped gun-sight to eye and walked towards his father slowly, but deliberately, hands out where they could see them. For the length of time that it took him to make the distance, the forest around them was dead still, eerily quiet, as if it were holding its breath for what was to come. Senses more alert than ever before, he knew where every warrior was, could hear every breath they took. If one of them moved, he felt like he would know it a split second before they made it.
Coming to rest beside Katarina, he looked Kobus in the eye for the first time since the male had found him covered in blood and surrounded by human casualties. He was much as Greyvian remembered. The Warrior Father—tall, broad shouldered, grave expression—but there was something in his eyes that he’d never truly seen before. Fear. He’d seen a hint of it that day so long ago, but it was nothing compared to what he saw now.
Breathing in his father’s scent, Greyvian could almost taste the acrid nature of it. His father was terrified. Of a human. Only because Greyvian knew the exact reason for it, was he able to target his appeal.
“Sienna’s parents are dead, and she has no siblings.” What better way to start, than by easing that fear? “Her Awareness cannot be passed on by touch or bodily fluids. If you allow her to live, she will have the ability to create life removed. Is this satisfactory?”
He was fairly certain that Sienna would agree to that if it meant her life.
Kobus’s gaze searched his face, looking for who knew what. When his father finally replied, it was as if he hadn’t heard a word of what Greyvian had said.
“You look good.” His father’s eyes travelled his body and then back to his face. “Civilised. Sane.”
“As I have been for quite some time,” he replied, wondering if his father was playing games, trying to unbalance and distract him.
“But you are still feeding on humans,” Kobus said in stern disapproval.
It wasn’t a question, but he answered in the affirmative anyway. “Yes. My dietary requirements have not changed. Merely the amount.”
His father nodded distantly as his eyes travelled over Greyvian’s face.
“And you have a son who looks just like you.” There was something wistful in Kobus’s voice that didn’t make sense. “A half-breed?”
“You know that he is,” he replied, still trying to work out what his father was playing at. It didn’t make sense that Kobus would ignore the topic of Sienna when he was so terrified of her existence.
Unless he was stalling.
* * *
Jacob was worried about Sienna. She was sweating up a storm, but kept shivering; she’d drunk about a litre of water in the past few minutes and then asked for more; and she kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Even if Greyvian and the others managed to stave off Kobus, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t die from the aftereffects of severe blood loss—or whatever the hell this was.
As he watched her, more concerned about her well-being than the fact that there was a troop of warriors outside probably trying to kill them all as he sat there, a violent shiver coursed down her body and she moaned as if in pain, shuffling around on the sofa like she couldn’t get comfortable. He wished it were possible to get her to a hospital. He didn’t like seeing her like this.
If only his blood could heal her. Maybe if he licked her like a cat his saliva would seep through her skin and do its thing?
He was seriously considering it when her eyes suddenly popped open, along with her mouth, and a god-awful scream of agony burst forth into the quiet room. Sucking in a breath of shock, he was suddenly hit with a nose full of Eau-de-Burnt-Coffee, the scent coming from out of nowhere.
“Holy shit! You’re transitioning? How the hell is that possible?” he asked, even though he knew she couldn’t reply because of the pain she was in. He should know—he’d been through it and well-remembered his inability to form a coherent thought.
Sienna might not have been able to reply, but he wasn’t as alone in the room as he had previously thought.
“Perhaps she is a late bloomer?” a completely dead voice replied from the doorway.
Whipping around, he found the zombie, Rayven, standing in the doorway. The male’s black eyes were fixed on Sienna in an unblinking stare that sent a shiver of unease down Jacob’s spine.
“How long have you been standing there?” he accused, hating that the male had snuck up on him.
Rayven didn’t look at him as he replied, “I
was not counting the time so I cannot tell you.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jacob dismissed the freak and turned back to Sienna who was now thrashing around on the sofa as if her entire body was on fire.
What the hell did he do? Greyvian’s blood was the pre-trans elixir of strength, but the male was outside, probably in the heat of battle. Looking down at his wrist, he wondered if his blood would be just as good.
“Stand aside half-breed,” a rough voice boomed from the hallway. “I’m only after the human. You need not die along with her.”
Spinning around, he saw that Rayven was doing as told, allowing the stranger into the room without a fight. He would have called the bastard a coward, but Xavior had shown him to comedic effect just how well Rayven took orders without comment or hesitation and knew it was not because the vampire lacked courage. That didn’t mean that Jacob was going to stand aside quietly.
Not that he had to. He realised a split second later as he prepared to go head to head with the huge male that stood before him, dripping with weapons and purpose, that Sienna was no longer human. The warrior also seemed to realise this as he glanced over at the sofa and saw her now curled into the foetal position, whimpering in pain.
The male frowned and sniffed the air.
“I was led to believe she was human,” he said, seemingly nonplussed as he stood in fighting stance, knives at the ready.
“You and me both, buddy,” Jacob replied, keeping his guard up just in case the guy decided to kill her anyway. “But then—I always thought I was human up until a little while ago.”
The warrior searched Jacob’s face, maybe looking for the truth, and then nodded, relaxing his posture and slipping his knives away with deft movements.
“Father will be pleased,” he said with a slight smile. And then he turned and walked back the way he had come, stepping past Marcus, who had appeared suddenly in the doorway.
Jacob frowned as he watched the male go. Was that solid wall of muscle… his uncle?
Another loud moan from Sienna refocused his attention on his best friend. Sienna was transitioning. She was going to be a half-breed, like him. Immortal.
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