“Where do you meet her to relay these messages?” he asked.
Sandra frowned. “I’ve never met her, but every two days, I go into town to the bookstore. I write the messages down and put them in The Odyssey by Homer. If The Odyssey has a new message waiting from her, I memorize it, throw it away, and then repeat it to Shrapnel, but only if he asks me to. Otherwise, I never mention it. I don’t even remember the messages.”
Sandra said the last part like she was repeating a set of instructions. No doubt she was, and they’d been given to her under the same mind-controlling circumstances she was in now.
“Get to the bookstore,” Vlad said without looking away from Sandra. One of his guards bowed smartly and then left.
“You’ve never met her, but did he tell you her name?”
More of that hair-raising energy rolled out of Vlad, until I was rubbing my arms to chase the tingling sensations away. Was this what Marty meant when he told me vampires could measure each others’ strength by feeling their auras? If so, then Vlad’s had Badass: Do Not Engage written all over it.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to know it.” Sandra sounded bemused. “But once, Shrapnel called her Cynthiana.”
Vlad’s features hardened as though his face had been transformed into stone. Clearly he recognized the name. It sounded familiar to me, too, but I couldn’t place where I’d heard it. Shrapnel closed his eyes, his expression showing more pain than when Vlad rammed a long wooden pole through his torso. Despite everything, Shrapnel still loved her, and his worst fear was now realized because she’d just landed herself at the top of Vlad’s most wanted list.
My gaze swung back to Vlad as memory clicked. “Cynthiana. Isn’t that the name of the woman you dated before me?”
“It is,” Vlad said, still staring at Shrapnel.
I wracked my brain to recall what else Maximus had said. She’d been with Vlad for a ridiculously long time—that I remembered—and when he dumped her, she did something. What was it? Right, she dated one of his friends trying to make him jealous. Oldest trick in the book, but it hadn’t worked . . .
And that friend had been Shrapnel. I goggled at him.
“Did Cynthiana think if I were dead, she’d have another chance at Vlad? If so, why would you go along with that? You love her; I felt it when I linked to you.”
Shrapnel said nothing. His silence was further proof of his feelings, but if she wasn’t motivated by jealousy, why would Cynthiana risk her own life by repeatedly trying to end mine?
Whatever her reasons, she’d murdered a bunch of innocent people before her linking booby trap had finally killed me—temporarily. Dawn’s face flashed in my mind. She hadn’t deserved to die before she could find her way in life. Neither had anyone else at the carnival, and Vlad’s guards hadn’t deserved getting blown up because Shrapnel was making a last-ditch effort to cover his tracks. Finally, I hadn’t deserved any of the crap I’d endured because of Cynthiana’s murderous intentions.
“You can go, Sandra,” Vlad said, his eyes darkening back to their normal copper color. “Your part in this is forgiven.”
Released from his gaze, she blinked, then said something very fast in Romanian.
“Of course this is still your home,” Vlad replied impatiently. Then he waved a dismissive hand. “Go.”
A bearded guard escorted Sandra out. I was glad to see her leave. She’d done nothing to warrant being here, unlike the vampire suspended on the tall wooden pole.
Vlad stared at Shrapnel. For an instant, a tornado of rage, frustration, and regret assaulted my emotions. Then it was as if a wall slammed down, cutting off everything except my own angry feelings. Even the swirling energy coming from Vlad dissipated.
“You know what happens now,” he said, sounding utterly dispassionate.
I did, too. Bring it on! a vengeful part of me snarled.
Then I remembered the grisly machines in the next cavern. Vlad would show no pity in order to discover where Cynthiana was, but if I could link to the brunette vampire, I could spare Shrapnel some of that. He deserved to die for what he’d done, yet if my powers had hung on through my transformation, I could make it a quicker, less painful death. If I didn’t at least try, wasn’t I as heartless as the bitch who’d cold-bloodedly murdered several people in her attempts to kill me?
“Let’s try something else first.”
Only Vlad’s eyes moved as he glanced at me. “He’s come too far to be cajoled into giving her up now.”
Shrapnel bared his teeth. Not a smile. One predator’s warning to another. Then he said something in a language that sounded like Romanian, but more guttural. Vlad grunted.
“I have no doubt you’ll make me work for it, my friend.” Then to me he said simply, “Leave. You won’t want to see this.”
That, I had no doubt, but I wasn’t finished.
“He’s tough as nails, so you can do your worst for weeks . . . or let me do my best in minutes.”
Vlad glanced at my hands with a hard little smile.
“It’s very likely your abilities won’t work so soon after your transformation, if they return at all.”
“I’m still filled with voltage. The rest has to be there, too.”
So saying, I bent and touched the ground with my right hand. Nothing. After a few seconds, a sound escaped Shrapnel; half sigh, half laugh. Even though he knew it meant his torture, he was glad.
My mouth thinned as I touched the ground again. Still nothing but cold, uneven stone. I did it a third time, yet despite how essence-soaked these rocks must be, I saw nothing.
“Leila.” Vlad sounded almost weary. “You can’t stop this.”
He didn’t realize it, but those words only fueled my determination. All my life, I’d been told, “You can’t.” First it was “You can’t compete at an Olympic level,” yet I won a shot at making the gymnastics team. Then after all the nerve damage from the accident, it was “You can’t walk again,” but not only did I walk, I joined the circus as an acrobat. Then it was “You can’t touch anyone,” but I met Marty, a vampire who became my work partner and best friend. Then later, it was “You can’t ask me to love you,” but now I was Mrs. Vlad Dracul, thank you very much.
I glared at the gray stone floor. No way would a hunk of rock defeat me after everything I’d been through.
I didn’t touch it again—I raked my hand over it so hard that I cut it on the tiny edges in the stone. Then I concentrated until I didn’t hear Vlad’s continued admonitions to stop or Shrapnel’s mocking laugh.
There. No louder than a whisper, far more fleeting than a glimpse, but something was there, dammit! I concentrated until all my being was focused on the stone beneath my hand, and then I saw it. Gloriously gruesome images of a charbroiled vampire thudding to the floor where I touched, his mouth open in a final, silent scream.
I rose, only now noticing that Vlad knelt next to me, giving me a look of exasperation as he drew my hand away.
“Leila, enough—”
Whatever he saw on my face made him stop speaking. Very slowly, he let me go. Then he rose while the oddest mixture of pride and irritation peppered my emotions.
“Good news is, you get out of torture,” I told Shrapnel. “Bad news is, I’m going after your girlfriend, and now her spell doesn’t matter because I’m already dead.”
Chapter 39
I wanted to start trying to link to Cynthiana immediately, but Vlad said dawn was almost here. I took his word for it since I had no idea what time it was. Besides, Cynthiana didn’t know the tables had turned. Now she was the one who’d be relentlessly stalked, and once the sun set tonight, the hunt was on.
We left the lower level and headed for the secured room on the fourth floor. I’d been right that most new vampires were housed underground near the dungeon, but Vlad had the equivalent of a presidential suite for vampires he wanted to show special favor to. Yet as soon as we were back on the main level of the house, a plethora of noises assaulted me.
&nb
sp; The clamor of footsteps above and below. Numerous metallic clangs in the kitchen as pots and pans were used to make breakfast. Voices from people or electronic devices, and underneath it all, the rhythmic throb of multiple heartbeats.
My stomach clenched and little daggers poked me in the lip. Almost there, I thought in relief as we passed the indoor garden and headed toward the grand staircase. All I had to do was keep from going blood berserk for a few more minutes.
“Leila, thank God!”
My sister’s voice made me groan out loud. Gretchen ran down the stairs, looking both relieved and mad.
“His goons said you were too injured for us to see you, which is a lie since you look fine—”
Another sound escaped my throat that made her stop in mid-sentence. “Did you just growl at me?” she asked in disbelief.
Vlad glanced at me and then his hands closed around my arms. “Stay back,” he told Gretchen sternly.
Too late. Pain ripped through me, flipping a switch in my brain that made me incapable of seeing the little sister I loved. Instead, I only saw the cure for my agony inside a flesh package that was easy to tear.
The next few moments were a blur of struggling followed by relief as that impossibly delicious nectar slid down my throat, extinguishing the burn that made fire seem blissful by comparison. After I swallowed every drop, I became aware of a scream consisting of the same panicked question.
“What is wrong with her, what is wrong with her, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER?”
“Nothing.”
Vlad’s voice. Hearing it cleared away the lingering insanity, as did feeling his calmness through the fractured layers of my emotions. He was behind me, his arms unbreakable bands that kept me from hurting her or anyone else. I sagged in relief against him, the mindless haze finally leaving my vision.
Gretchen stood as if frozen on the bottom step of the staircase, eyes wide and expression so stricken I worried that she might faint.
“It’s okay,” I said. My voice was hoarser, but at least it wasn’t that animalistic growl anymore.
“It’s okay?” she repeated. “How is it okay when you just tried to kill me?”
I had no response to that. Gretchen sat down suddenly, as if she’d been yanked, and then she buried her head in her hands.
“I get it now. He had to change you because you were too far gone to heal. That’s why they wouldn’t let us see you.”
Unlike her previous screech, her voice was now almost a whisper. Pangs of a different kind made my insides twist. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell her this was something I intended to do in the future. Now she found out when I tried to eat her.
“I understand if . . . if you can’t deal with this,” I began.
Her head snapped up, blue gaze bright.
“You don’t get it. You saved me, but I couldn’t save you.” Her voice broke and tears spilled from her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Tears welled in my own gaze. She’d soldiered on through our mother’s death, my nightmarish abilities, my suicide attempt, and my leaving when I thought cutting ties with my family was the kindest thing I could do. She had her own flaws, but I should’ve known not even this would prove too much for her.
“Don’t. Without you dragging me away from the car before it exploded, I really would’ve died.”
At that, Vlad let me go. “You pulled Leila out of the vehicle?”
Gretchen tensed at his curt tune. “After she cut my seat belt off, yeah. She was in bad shape and I was afraid moving her would make it worse, but it was gonna blow.”
“You did great,” I told her, thinking, Ease up! before remembering he could no longer hear it.
“Hold her,” Vlad stated, nodding at me.
“What?” I gasped.
That was all I got out before two guards I hadn’t noticed seized me, giving me faintly apologetic looks as they held me immobile between them.
“It’s for your sister’s protection,” Vlad stated, striding over to Gretchen. She looked like she wanted to run but she didn’t move when he loomed above her.
“Hold out your hand,” he told her in that same crisp tone.
Haltingly, she did. Vlad grasped it and then pulled out a knife, his grip tightening when she tried to yank away.
“Vlad,” I said, drawing his name out in warning.
He didn’t glance at me. Instead, he drew that blade across his hand, coating my sister’s palm with his blood.
“Drink,” he told her, “and be known as one of my people.”
Gretchen gave the blood on her hand a distasteful look. Then she glanced back up at Vlad.
“Aren’t I already as your sister-in-law?”
His smile was coldly pleasant. “Not in the vampire world.”
She looked at me next. “What’s the catch?”
I remembered when I’d asked Vlad a similar question before an equally irrevocable situation.
“If you do this and then betray him in the future, he’ll kill you,” I summarized bluntly.
Instead of being intimidated, she snorted. “Like he wouldn’t do that now if I betrayed him. On the upside, if I do this and then someone messes with me, he’ll have to answer to Vlad, right?”
Emerald glinted in his gaze. “That’s exactly right.”
She looked at her hand and then clapped it over her mouth as if thinking about it longer would make her lose her nerve.
“Yuck,” she said as she licked the red smears clean.
I closed my eyes. Gretchen wasn’t a child and she’d made this decision of her own free will. That didn’t stop me from worrying that she’d taken one more step away from the human world. Not to mention Dad is going to lose it when he finds out.
“Wow, that’s like liquid speed,” she muttered. Then she stared in amazement as her scrapes, scabs, and bruises began to disappear as though wiped away by an invisible eraser.
“What is going on here?”
My father’s furious tone cut the air like a machete. I cringed at how I must look, blood soaked and restrained by two burly guards, and that surge of emotion made my fangs pop out.
Which, of course, was the wrong reaction.
“No,” my father whispered as he stared at me, horror pinching his features. Then he began to descend the stairs as fast as his permanently stiff leg would allow.
“What have you done to her?” he thundered at Vlad.
Vlad shot my father a scalding look as he came over and then swept me into his arms, the guards bowing as they backed away.
“If you say any more of the thoughts in your head, I’ll take away your ability to speak for a week.”
My father’s jaw dropped. I squirmed in Vlad’s arms. This was not how I’d imagined breaking the news to my dad, either.
“Put me down, I’m not feeling bitey anymore.”
“It’s dawn,” he replied, still glaring at my father.
“Okay, so I’ll be tired, but that doesn’t mean—”
My mouth stopped working. Then so did every muscle in my body. Before my father’s next heartbeat, I was completely unconscious.
Chapter 40
I came awake so suddenly that it startled me. One second, I was dead to the world, the next, I was on my feet and hungry as hell, my gaze darting around in search of food.
“There,” Vlad said, pointing to the open slot in the wall.
I fell on the bag it contained, tearing into it like the shark from Jaws. When I was done, blood dripped from my face, hands, and chest. I only became aware that I’d started licking myself when Vlad’s low laugh broke my hunger-induced trance.
“I must admit, this gives me ideas.”
Embarrassment rose, giving me the strength to stop cleaning my hands like some deranged cat. Vlad sat on the mattress, back braced against the wall and legs casually splayed. He’d changed since I last saw him, and though his deep purple shirt was spotless, as were his ebony pants, with one whiff, I knew where he’d been before coming here.
�
�You went back to the dungeon.”
His smile held more than a hint of grimness. “Perhaps I’ll have it sprayed with Febreze after all.”
I ran my hand through my hair after one final lick. “We agreed I’d look for Cynthiana the other way.”
“With you asleep, I had some time to kill.”
His voice was light, but an undercurrent of tempered irritation brushed my emotions. I sighed.
“I know you’re not used to explaining yourself, but that’s marriage. I’m not used to waking up with an uncontrollable hunger, so we’re both going through an adjustment phase.”
Now a different kind of smile curled his lips. “Yours will only last a week. Mine, a lifetime.”
I laughed dryly. “If you wanted a wife who never questioned your actions, you shouldn’t have married me.”
Something else teased my emotions, sliding through them like swaths of sensual fire. A richer, warmer scent filled the room, reminding me of simmering spices and wood smoke.
“Agreed. But I wanted you more than subservience.”
His voice was throatier, tightening things low within me. I swallowed, hunger of a different sort making my fangs lengthen. He looked so polished in his tailored clothes, so relaxed leaning against the wall, yet his emotions told a different story. I might be the one bloody and disheveled, but I wasn’t the real feral creature in the room.
And I wouldn’t have him any other way.
Then I shook my head to clear the explicit thoughts starting to crowd it. I had a murderous vampire to hunt plus a traumatized father to calm down. My dance card didn’t have room for hours of sex and Vlad didn’t do quickies.
“I need to shower,” I said, and it sounded breathless even though I didn’t breathe anymore.
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