“They may come, but there is no law to protect them here.”
“Sure there is. Even cities are required to followed state and federal laws. Kidnapping is against the law—even in Colorado. C.R.S. 18-3-301 states that using force to move someone against their will is a first-degree kidnapping case. You're looking at life in prison minimum.”
“So you know the law then?” Once again proof that the Goddess knew what she was doing when she gave this girl to him. “You can learn the laws of our people, and assist me in overseeing the judicial council.”
“Our people? Tell me what separates ‘our’ people from normal human beings?”
“That’s just it, my little love. I’m not a human being. And come morning neither will you be.” Would it be best to just do it? To start the conversion process while keeping her in the dark of what it would entail? Would that frighten her less?
It would not lessen the pain, and he felt that scar his soul. But it would keep her alive. Didst not the ends justify the means, in such a case?
If such an act was committed and brought before his council judicially,
Theo was uncertain how he—the head of the Judicial Council for the Dardanos tribe—would rule. After six hundred forty-three years on the Earth, there were still some situations where right and wrong remained blurred.
“You really are crazy! I want to go home, please!”
Theo could so easily hear the fear in her voice. How was he to make her fear him less? Especially considering what he was about to do to her?
Yes. It would be best, he supposed, to just get it over with for her. He would start the process. He closed his useless eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath. Whispered the short word to put her back into a frozen state.
It would hurt her slightly less if she did not fight him.
***
She could not move again. How was he doing that to her? It had to be a drug of some sort, something applied directly to the skin. Maybe when he’d touched her arm?
He felt around her, his hands hot on her back through her shirt. His hands found her waist and he lifted her again. He was such a strong man.
He wrapped his hands around her and pulled her into his chest. She wanted to fight him but could not. That was the worst part, not being able to fight. Not being able to protect herself. She knew some basic self-defense, Mal had insisted she learn. But it was useless.
She was surrounded by him, his scent, his heat, his body. His hands were in her hair, moving the strands from her neck. He brushed her nape once, twice. Then again.
“This will hurt. I wish it wouldn’t. But it is necessary, you see.”
Her trembling, the only movement she was capable of making while under his strange spell, increased. She wanted to question, to fight. To move away. She couldn’t do any of those things.
His lips brushed against her neck. Mickey closed her eyes, surprised even that small movement was possible.
Blinding pain burned through her neck. Mickey wanted to scream but couldn’t. He was sucking at her neck, pulling her blood from her body. Drinking it! Oh, God, he really thought he wasn’t human!
She couldn’t push him away though she tried with every fiber of her being to get her muscles to cooperate. All she did was exhaust herself.
How much time had passed with him sucking the blood from her through her neck? How was it even possible? Human teeth couldn’t pierce the neck deep enough to make blood drinking possible, right? Was he one of those people who had their teeth cosmetically altered to look like fangs? How useful would those fangs be for sucking blood?
All of these questions flooded her head, along with another—would he ever stop?
Mickey’s eyes closed. She was so tired, from the strain of the day, from the kidnapping, the fighting, the fear. This. He wasn’t going to stop and she couldn’t fight him. What was she supposed to do?
She tried to open her eyes again but couldn’t. Was it fatigue or blood loss? How many pints of blood were in the human body? Eight? Ten? That was a lot of blood for him to drink through tiny holes in her neck.
How many pints would he have to drink before she completely lost consciousness?
It wasn’t humanly possible for him to drink that much, was it?
That was the last question in Mickey’s mind before the darkness consumed her.
Chapter Six
Theo felt the spirit leave her body and grief hit him. In a way, he had lied to her this night. He had killed her, taking away all traces of her humanity. Now he had to replace it with his strong Dardaptoan blood and bind her to him for all time. How was she ever to forgive him?
Her breathing was shallow, her heartbeat so faint when he pulled her onto his lap. He’d need her close so that she could drink from him. But how was he to get this unconscious woman to drink from his body when she had never drunk before?
Humans did not possess the necessary instinct to drink; humans found blood drinking horrific. How was he to overcome that?
He bit into his own wrist, waited for the warm blood to well. He caressed her lips, pulling her mouth open. He needed to get the blood into her, and quickly.
He held his wrist over her mouth, waiting. The blood was in her mouth, but she refused to swallow. Was she too far gone? Had he been destined to kill his female this night?
He offered up a quick prayer to the goddess of his people. Their fates were in the Goddess Kennera’s hands. If she died in his hands, Theo knew he would find some way to follow her to the next life.
His Rajni swallowed. Once, then again. And again. She stopped.
Theo’s breath backed into his throat. He waited. The blood would begin sinking into her thirsty cells, reshaping them to process Dardaptoan instead of human.
A Dardaptoan only needed two and a half liters of blood in their body at any one time to live, compared with the nearly twice that amount humans carried around. He’d pulled at least four liters from her already. If he could get two or more liters of Dardaptoan blood into her...
She sputtered, drew in several large deep breaths. Stopped breathing.
Theo covered her mouth with his own and breathed for her until her lungs found their new rhythm. He returned his bleeding wrist to her mouth. She needed more. And he wasn’t stopping until she had what she needed.
It took hours, but her drinking grew stronger as more of his rich blood reshaped her system. But it hurt her. And he had to sit beside her and know that every bit of pain she experienced was at his hands.
By the time she had stopped screaming and rested peacefully upon his bed, Theo’s own vestis was covered with blood and tears. Both her tears and his. He’d order the tunic burned in the morning. He never wanted to see it again.
He carried her into the bathroom and stripped the bloodied clothing from her body, then washed the blood from her hair as best he could with his limited vision. She never stirred, so exhausted from what he had done to her. Theo redressed her in the warmest clothing the servants had left outside his suite.
He pulled the silk comforter around them both, keeping it tucked tight around her shoulders. A female Dardaptoan was extremely susceptible to the cold, and a newly converted one would be doubly so. Then he just held her while she slept.
She may someday forgive him for what he had caused her this night, but Theo knew he would never forgive himself for the way she had had to suffer.
He would spend the rest of their lifetime making reparations for what he had done.
Chapter Seven
Someone was holding her, and before Mickey even opened her eyes, she knew it was him. She opened her eyes and confirmed her suspicions. “What did you do to me?”
“Do you feel the new teeth in your mouth?”
Mickey didn’t have to feel them, she remembered them growing. It had not been a pleasant experience. Her own canine teeth had fallen out, replaced too quickly by the four fangs she now ran her tongue over. Fangs.
For blood drinking.
This wasn�
�t a nightmare; he was a vampire. And now so was she.
“Why me?’’
“Why you what?” His hands were warm on her arms, where he held her.
“Why did you pick me to...convert into what you are? Was it something I did at the bar?”
“I didn’t pick you. The goddess I worship did.”
“Goddesses don’t exist. They were mythical and put into place by people’s ignorance in times of pre-civilization.”
“No, my little love. Goddesses are no more mythical than my race of beings are. You would call us vampire. We call ourselves Dardaptoan. We predate humanity. But we are nothing like the creatures from your legends.”
“You are blood drinkers. And you are undead.”
“I am very much undead. I am living. I can die. Admittedly, it is harder to kill my Kind—your Kind, now—than humans. We can bleed to death, and we can develop infections that poison our own blood, and we can freeze to death. Cold temperatures slow our blood flow so drastically, anything under fifty degrees can be deadly. And yes, we drink blood. But we never kill to get that blood. We have a very active Red Cross in this city.”
“There are more of you?” Mickey’s felt her eyes widen. “The man who has my sister? Is he a vampire, too?”
“Dardaptoan. And yes, he is. Your sister is now a Dardaptoan, as well. Goddess Kennera has chosen the two of you for us. Legend has it, that at the moment a Dardaptoan is born, the goddess whispers their name, plus the name of the one creature—be it anyone from any Kind—who that babe is destined to be with. That destined mate is known in our language as a Rajni. You, little love. It was your name the goddess whispered 643 years ago when I was born.”
Mickey still thought he was crazy. But she had fangs. He’d drunk her blood. She’d drunk his. So what did that make her?
It could be chocked up to mass hysteria, only contained to the two of them. Delusions, maybe? Some drug he’d given her when he’d touched her? How long would it take for the drug to wear off?
She wasn’t aware she’d asked the question aloud until he laughed and squeezed her tighter. “You are under no drug’s influence. Drugs do not affect our people at all. It is a great concern of our Healers.”
Mickey could hear his heart beating under her ear. Felt his breath teasing her hair. He was alive, she could not deny that. But he wasn’t human. How was she supposed to accept that? “I need to see my sister. You can’t hold us here forever.”
“You will see your sister shortly. I believe she will be at the main breakfast room. The dhar—or king—of our people has asked that we all meet with him and the dahn. That is the queen of our people.”
Mickey’s mind conjured up a picture of a wrinkly old woman with fangs and red eyes. “I don’t want to meet your queen.”
“But you already have. My dearest little love, Aodhan and I were not the only Dardaptoans on your family property last eve. There were two others. Two of your cousins are also here in the resort.”
Ice shot up her spine. “Who?” But she already knew. Only two of her female cousins had been on the property last night. “Josey and Emily. Did they hurt them?”
He hesitated. “The conversion is not an easy process, but both your cousins live. And the future shows me they will be well cared for all of their days.”
“You predict the future, too?”
“I am Theodoric the Prognosticator. It is a gift that has been passed down my family line since the year of 1720 B.C.” He spoke matter-of-factly. As if he believed he could see the future.
“Tell me what will happen to me, then.” Mickey didn’t believe people could predict the future, how could she? That was the stuff of science fiction. “Predict my future.”
“That I cannot do. Your future is too closely tied to mine. I do not see for those closest to me, nothing more than vague impressions. I can also sometimes see glimpses of individual’s histories or greatest desires.”
“Convenient. You made a claim you could not support. Why should I believe you about any of this? Where’s your evidence that any of this is real?”
“In time, you will come to accept.”
Chapter Eight
Theo wished he was as confident as his tone implied. He had seen some of her future, as she lay trembling against him while the changes racked her body.
They would have children. Several, and that pleased him. But he knew instinctively now was not the time to tell her that. Their first would be born within the year, and would have her mother’s red gold hair and his eyes. She would never suffer the loss of vision that plagued her father’s lines though she would have great prognosticating gifts. Usually, in his family, when one possessed great gifts, the cost of that gift was the sense of sight. It had been so for thousands of years of Sebastos’ progeny.
But before that child could be conceived, her mother would have to accept him.
“I want my sister.”
“Then you must prepare for breakfast. I have fresh clothing laid out for you. As well as these...” He felt around on the bedside table until he found the small velvet bag that contained the jewels that represented the equa of his family line. “I wish you to wear these.”
“Why should I?”
“Because they are yours now. They were my mother’s, and my father’s mother’s, and his mother’s mother. They are the symbol of who you are to all of my people.”
“I don’t want to be a symbol to people I don’t know and don’t want to know. And I don’t want your family jewels, in any sense of the words.”
Theo felt around until he found her small hand. He put the jewelry bag in her palm. “What harm could wearing a necklace do? The choice is up to you, my little love. Wear them if you wish. The clock bell will chime the half hour soon. By the next chime, we should be ready to join our king, and your sister and cousins. Go, take your shower and prepare.”
He felt her gaze on him for several long moments. “Go, Michaela. I have promised to take you to your sister, and I shall always keep my word to you.” She placed the jewels back on his lap.
She scrambled off the bed and away from him. He heard the sound of the bathroom door closing behind her. The shower flared to life moments later. Theo held the velvet jewel bag in his hands for several long moments. The small bundle represented her acceptance of what she had become, and he understood why she was so reluctant to wear them.
Would he capitulate easily if he had been in her place? No, he would fight with all the fight he had before he gave into some strange creature ripping him from the only world and life he had ever known.
He ran the jewels through his fingers, touching each stone and recalling the colors and shape. He had not always been blind. It had been progressive, worsening as his prognostic gifts had strengthened. It was the Sebastos’ way. His young sister, barely in her fifties, was an apprentice healer and artist. She would lose her own sight as her gifts deepened. His brother was also a healer and had lost much of his sight through the years.
But this little once human mate of his would give him children for which that blindness would not ever occur again. He slipped the necklace into the pocket of his pardus. She would wear it before the day ended.
In the meantime, she had spent too long in the bath. They could not be late to meeting their king. Not today.
Chapter Nine
Mickey started the shower but kept the strange pajamas he’d dressed her in on. Now, when he wasn’t near her, would be the only time she had a chance to escape. She had to find her sister and Josey and Emily. But how?
There was a window in the large master bath. It was a small window and looked out over the gardens; it would be the one way she could get away from the man and find the others. If she couldn’t find them, she could run. Find the police in this town, and make them help her. Make them call her brother, father, or uncle. Then they could rescue Mal and the others.
Mickey trembled as she slid the window open. The suite was three stories up, but outside the window was a balcony,
complete with a small patio table. And at the other end of the balcony, she could just see the edge of a staircase. Hopefully, it led down to the ground floor. The garden would have an exit. Most did.
She climbed onto the marble countertop and slipped out the window. It was a tight squeeze, but she got her hips through the frame. She landed on the balcony with a thud, and she stilled. She prayed the sound hadn’t carried to the blind man back inside the room. Was his hearing more acute than most people’s? Would he catch her?
After a moment, when he didn’t appear in the door frame, Mickey stood. He wouldn’t be able to see her pass in front of the glass door, but she still crossed the balcony as carefully as she could.
Less than a minute later she was in the gardens, surrounded by the hotel walls on each side. But she knew there had to be a way out of the gardens, somehow.
***
She searched each edge of the garden, looking for something that even halfway resembled a gate, but there was nothing. Mickey wanted to sink to the lush ground and cry. How long would it be before he found her? She sat down, leaned against the cool stone of the hotel’s east wall.
Mickey pulled her legs to her chest and huddled behind the large plants, hiding herself the best she could. The gardens had appeared deserted, but what if they weren’t? What if someone was there? What if they found her and took her back to him?
She wiped a stray tear away, wishing she was at home with her family with everything in her being.
A curse sounded not far from where she hid and Mickey tensed, peered through the leaves surrounding her. When she saw a familiar head of red hair, she hiccupped and jerked to her feet. “Mallory!”
Her sister turned and Mickey saw the relief on the face so similar to her own. “Mickey! Thank God!”
Mickey threw herself into her sister’s arms, then backed away when Mal hissed out a gasp of pain. “He hurt you.”
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