SURVIVAL (Fire & Ice Book 2)

by Karen Payton Holt

  While she slipped from her perch behind him and staggered to lean against a tree, Connor pulled up alongside. Julian envied him, his composure as Rebekah dismounted to see if she could comfort Annabelle.

  Julian shrugged impatiently. It has nothing to do with the chance of seeing Leizle again. And it looks like Connor was right, maybe we won’t make it before dawn.

  The sky’s palette was two shades lighter. Dawn’s fingers were preparing to unfurl, spread her pearl-tinted span, and gather the dark cloak of night into her grasp. Softened skin was a weakness vampires could ill afford. Juggling the covering/uncovering thing is difficult. But right now, Julian felt like a child forced to wear an itching jumper, and his skin protested at the unusual confinement.

  “Are you okay now, Annabelle? There is no need to be afraid,” coaxed Rebekah. Although, her own anxiety showed in her eyes, and her outward display of concern did her credit as she comforted the girl’s huddled figure.

  Rebekah was not fooling Julian. None of us are happy. Having Annabelle here is a huge risk. He watched closely, and his discomfort grew as the pantomime unfolded.

  “I’m sorry, I just feel sick.” Annabelle bent over double, lowering to her haunches and placing her palms on the ground as she groaned. “Maybe if I rode with Doctor Connor.” she muttered.

  Jealousy cramped Rebekah’s features, but she shot an enquiring glance at Connor.

  With a studied expression of calm, he said, “It’s worth a try. We should get going.”

  Julian felt the knife twist in Rebekah just as surely as if he had seen the flash of a blade. He wanted to tell her Connor was acting, too. He would much rather keep Rebekah with him, he just needs to get this journey done.

  Rebekah moved first, swinging herself up behind Julian and nodding firmly.

  Setting off once again, Julian rode in Connor’s slipstream, focusing on the girl riding pillion on the bike in front, with her arms clasped firmly around his friend’s solid frame. The heavy shadow of the tree canopy offered the illusion of safety, but still Connor pushed the engine revs to screaming banshee proportions. His aversion to sunlight was ingrained, and Julian, too, wanted the journey over. For Rebekah’s sake.

  Surrendering her place to Annabelle had cost a lot. Rebekah’s disquiet was clear in the death-grip which encircled his waist, and he could almost feel her pounding heart inside his own chest. I know Connor would not hurt her for the world, but, damn, this is harsh.

  They raced the approaching dawn, and Julian’s mood became more grim. His own motorcycle surged forward as he tapped his foot carefully through the gears, his sure fingers pumping the clutch and twisting the throttle with restraint – metal was a delicate material in his hands – as he acknowledged the creeping feeling that Connor had been played.

  The final hundred yards over a carpet of potholed grass clattered the teeth of all four riders. Connor slewed his motorcycle into the mouth of the tunnel, parked in the darkest corner, and cut the engine. Giving Rebekah and Annabelle time to gather their senses, Connor and Julian sat still with their boots planted on the ground and held the motorcycles steady. The shimmering heat radiating from the cooling engines enveloped them all, and vampire eyes met, each accepting that they had cut this one fine. Connor nodded tersely, shouldering the blame for the delay.

  The silence was thick with relief, both human and vampire.

  They walked through the newly hewn tunnels towards the meeting chamber. It was at the center of the eco-shelter – which was configured like a spider – although only six tunnels led out to other areas. It was a smaller habitat than the one they had left behind, but large enough to accommodate the group of twenty humans comfortably.

  Bringing up the rear, Julian was glad to see Connor held Rebekah’s hand and fought to match her slower stride.

  As the group emerged from the tunnel, Oscar stepped forward, and, seeing the windswept, grimy face of a strange girl, his astonishment erupted. “What on earth?”

  “We had to move fast. There wasn’t time to plan.” Connor’s tone was quiet.

  “I’m not sure Greg will be happy,” said Oscar, “but, he’s out in the field, right now.”

  “You should have asked us, Connor.” Harry had grown thinner over the last few weeks. His eyes still begged forgiveness every time he looked at Rebekah. He had almost allowed Douglas to destroy everything he held dear, and he was indebted to Connor in so many ways, but he was still the head of the eco-shelter. “We should have taken a vote on this.”

  Connor nodded. “I know, Harry.”

  Harry’s rheumy eyes glistened in the candlelight as he met Connor’s sober acknowledgement. Mollified, he nodded slowly. “I guess one more mouth to feed is not a disaster. Welcome-?”

  Harry looked at Connor when their visitor remained silent, hiding her face behind the curtain of tangled hair.

  “Annabelle,” said Connor, ignoring the anxious glance Rebekah sent his way.

  Harry nodded. “Annabelle. I’ll go and measure out her beta-blockers.” He briefly embraced Rebekah before moving away, his mind already preoccupied with the polystyrene-lined crates stacked in his hospital chamber which contained the eco-shelter inhabitants’ healthcare regime, and the chemicals he would use when his laboratory was finally up and running.

  Oscar lightened the mood.

  “I’m sure you are all hungry.” He swamped Rebekah in a bear hug for a moment. “I better see what I can rustle up, eh?”

  Rebekah smiled warmly, knowing that Oscar rarely delivered anything less than perfection.

  As Oscar left the cavern, Thomas ran forward to greet them.

  “You’re back.” Thomas hugged Rebekah, too, a wide grin illuminating his face. He was seventeen now, much too old to be her son, but Rebekah squeezed him back with maternal fervor. Saving him from youthful recklessness had forged a bond which also encompassed Connor.

  He turned to Connor and nodded shyly, the hero worship shining in his eyes.

  Julian hung back. He was searching the tunnel entrances for her small frame, for eyes as green as his, a stubborn jaw and chestnut hair. And there she was. Leizle.

  A breeze ruffled her short, flame-shot locks, and regret hit him in the chest. His fingers twitched as though he could feel the weight of her thick braid in his palm. He remembered the texture of the copper bright filaments when his blade had cut through the woven strands and he had walked away without a word of kindness.

  That was the last time they had been alone together, and the last time he had looked into her face. The pain he had seen in her eyes still stung.

  It was necessary, to prevent Serge looking for her. But did I need to be so cruel? Julian knew that in guarding himself against her, he had handled her heart roughly, and now, it was too late to expect her forgiveness.

  He tugged her scent into his chest in short hits, gently, as though stepping into icy water. He gauged his control, gripping it tightly, lest he let his desire show.

  His life was already altered, and empty without her, but his imagination tortured him. If his fingers traced her flesh, if he tasted her and lost himself in her warmth, he would not survive if she rejected him. He knew Connor would tell him the pain was worth the pleasure, but he was scared his reserved manner would leave her feeling unloved and drive her away.

  But, he still found himself drifting towards her, unable to resist her plea to his heart. The rich autumn tones of her hair enhanced the translucence of her skin, but lilac shadows beneath her eyes drained the radiance from her face, and twisted the knife. I hurt her. “Your hair.” He reached out to move the silken strands over his fingertips as he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  Leizle stared at him. The shards of jade in her gaze reflected her agony, and her feelings flooded into his mind. He knew she feared he would not let her in. His chest heaved as he inhaled deeply and the muscles in his jaw worked. She is right.

  She sighed with the weight of that knowledge, and Julian’s mouth flooded with moistu
re. He wanted to pull her close, dip into her mouth to steal that sad breath, and return it to her as pleasure. But instead, he dropped his hand to his side, and before the diamond fragments on her lashes could cluster into tears, he nodded once and strode from the cavern.

  His leaving was a blur which left her reeling as he simply vanished. For once, he cursed his preternatural hearing when her words reverberated inside his head as she whispered, “I don’t want his pity. I wish I’d never met him.”

  The last word remained strangled in her throat, and he almost went back... almost.

  <><><>

  Rebekah released Thomas, and stepping back, she drew the other girl forward. “Annabelle, this is Thomas.”

  “Hi,” said Thomas, blushing as he held out his hand. Clearly struck dumb by her pretty features and made awkward by his attraction, he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.

  Annabelle edged closer to Connor’s side as she met Thomas’ shy gaze. “Hi,” she said, glancing up again at Connor, as if drawing on his strength and seeking his approval.

  Connor suppressed a smile, enjoying Thomas’ discomfort, until he heard Rebekah’s sharp intake of breath. It ionized the air around him with a current of emotions he didn’t recognize. Her heart clenched as if punctured by the bite of a venomous snake, and her desolation pierced him in its turn.

  As the blurred apparition of Julian disappearing from the cavern caught her eye, Rebekah dropped her chin and followed him out, but not before Connor caught sight of the flash of despair on her face.

  “Hey Thomas, how’d you like to look after Annabelle for a while?” asked Connor. His mind focused on Rebekah. Even though her footsteps were fading and the distance between them grew, he honed in on the clamoring beats of her heart, and the burned-toffee aroma to her scent that he’d not experienced before.

  The girl looked crestfallen. “I’d feel... safer with you.”

  Connor’s amusement at Thomas’ bashful agitation was forgotten. A worm of concern stirred in his mind at the girl’s attention, and the coyness as she searched his face registered at last. I’m not sure Thomas can handle this. Rebekah’s growing distress twisted inside him. But, I have to go.

  “You’ll be fine with Thomas.” Connor nodded at the boy and left them alone together.

  “Hey Annabelle, I can show you around, and where you’re gonna sleep, if you’d like.” Thomas’ voice rose with enthusiasm.

  At Connor’s closed expression, Emily admitted defeat. “Thanks, Thomas.” She sighed, turning to him and smiling.

  She was twenty years old with the guile of a woman twice her age. She had grown up fast when she found herself alone at five years old. After her parents died in the influenza pandemic, the social workers had swooped in. Unfortunately, being a ‘Good Samaritan’ did not guarantee immunity to the disease, and Emily was moved on more times than she cared to remember. She stopped hoping for love when her third surrogate mother died.

  Getting love and attention became harder still, when she was swallowed up in a hostel where children were looked upon as mouths to feed and an obligation to be cared for by those who felt fortunate to have survived. At twelve years of age, she discovered there were different types of love. She did not trust, but she craved the words of kindness she got if she let the older men touch her.

  I was easy prey for Jonathan. When he caught her out foraging in a darkened department store, her sixteen-year-old heart had almost stopped. He was like nothing she had ever seen. Vampire was only a word, an invisible threat. His smile transformed his fierce face into captivating beauty, and he seemed to know her thoughts and how to ease her pain. When he laid his cold grip on her hand, he promised her an existence without fear, but his words “I will protect you” turned out to be a devastating lie. ‘Never trust’ was tattooed into her soul… but Doctor Connor had punched a hole in her armor, and hope trickled into her bloodstream.

  Thomas swallowed loudly at the rush of having her complete attention. “C’mon, I’ll show you the well-room where you can bathe. Oscar will be in the kitchen, and I’m sure he’ll have some food for us if we swing by afterwards.”

  Emily’s stomach rumbled as a reminder that Julian’s tin of peaches was many hours ago, but that was not the sensation she clung to. The adrenalin of the motorcycle ride was far more potent.

  She pushed aside the reason she had pretended to feel sick. She deliberately used up all the poppy seeds a long way out, and switching places to ride with Doctor Connor was a bittersweet reward when she was stabbing him in the back. Perhaps the general won’t find us.

  When she had hugged Connor’s body and rested her cheek on his shoulder blade, every muscle moving under his skin sent a tremor of excitement through her. This Rebekah is nothing special. When they first met, she had looked at the textured honey- blonde hair and brown eyes, and decided that her long, curtain of pale silk and cobalt blue eyes were far more arresting. Not at the moment, clearly. Absentmindedly, she wound the greasy strands around her fingertips, reliving a moment when Connor’s hand had settled on her thigh as the motorcycle banked. Was he just reassuring her... or? Hope blossomed. Maybe, just maybe.

  <><><>

  The moment Connor left the cavern and hit his stride, Thomas and the girl were forgotten. He powered his way through the tunnels, dragged along by Rebekah’s scent. It was still tainted with an ionized odor which bit into his sinuses. He moved slowly for a vampire, already rehearsing the control he would need. His urge to look into her face was compelling. But this is about her safety. So, he focused on summoning the balance of revival sleep and awareness, with which he could ease her pain.

  He caught sight of her up ahead, running her fingers along the left wall of the eight feet wide tunnel. She looks so vulnerable, like Jonah in the mouth of a whale. No, a pearl in the mouth of an oyster. Connor pulled in a deep breath, knowing he was going into battle. I will slay her fears over Annabelle.

  As the tunnel curved to the right he closed the space between them. Skimming past, he rotated on his heel and blocked her path. She stopped with a gasp, and as adrenalin pumped through her, she froze. He had startled her. But, this time I wanted to.

  Connor stepped forward as she stepped back, and without touching, he moved her into the tunnel wall. Towering over her, he placed his hands on either side of her head. Molding his fingers to the contours of the earthen wall, he was pleased when no telltale shower of earth fell. Okay, that was gentle. The gulp in her throat echoed through him as he looked down at her lowered lashes. Watching the shadows moving over her face as she chewed her lip, he waited.

  When she finally looked up, he examined every expression. Her chin trembled, her spiked lashes betrayed the tears she had swiped away, and her eyes were black pools of sadness.

  Her anguish gripped his heart as though her trembling fist closed around it. How could I have done this? Annabelle’s interest had caught him by surprise. What do I know of love? His lips twitched in self derision. I have no experience of romance. As a surgeon, I looked into eyes to diagnose disease, searching them for emotion never came into it. A hundred years on, and I’m a bit rusty. I just know my own heart. Surely she knows it too?

  Connor groaned gently. Revival sleep flooded his mind in time to stop him snapping her neck as he laced his fingers into the hair at her nape and rested his forehead gently against hers. “Hey. Tell me,” he said, dragging the burnt toffee aroma into his lungs.

  “I can’t explain,” she said huskily. “Annabelle. She... likes you.”

  “She’s just glad to be safe.” Stroking his thumb along her jaw, he gently lifted her chin. “She thinks I saved her. She’ll get over it.”

  “She likes you. She’s stronger than you think.” Rebekah frowned. “Call it intuition, but she scares me.” The cold touch of foreboding skittered along Rebekah’s spine, and Connor felt the tremor beneath his fingertips when she shivered. “She wants you…”

  She lowered her lashes, and his gray eyes darkened to lead as he sighed heav
ily.

  “Look at me, Rebekah,” he said gently, tracing a finger over her furrowed brow.

  “No…” Her stubborn streak gripped her heart. “She wants you,” she insisted. The silence stretched and she finally had no choice, her eyes were drawn back to his face.

  He met her desolate gaze, and her pain felt like a blow to his chest.

  “And I want you. Only you.” His mouth hovered over hers, his cold breath feathering over her skin. The shiver down her spine warmed her this time as she moved her hands to his chest, grazing her thumbs over hard muscles. His breath mimicked her sighs, whispering in and out as her touch held him frozen.

  “I love you.” His eyes glinted in the dim light. “Just say the word and I’ll turn you and take you away from... this.” He grazed his thumb over the pulse thundering in her throat. “Say the words and I can love you forever.”

  He did not need an answer. As his lips brushed over hers, he felt her come back to him. The burnt toffee stinging his throat cooled to the honey scented cocktail he was addicted to. It filled his chest and stole his panting breath.

  Rebekah sighed against his mouth and dipped the tip of her tongue inside his parted lips.

  “Hold tight,” he growled gently as, holding her to his chest, he accelerated effortlessly along the tunnel. The air rushing over her cheeks chilled her face as she clung to his neck and pushed her face into his shoulder. The tunnel whisked into the distance, and, before she could catch a breath, the small cavern of her new den filled her vision.

  His words were still reverberating in her ears as she lay back on her bed. Connor stretched out on his side next to her, his fingers of the hand supporting his head spiked through his thick hair, and the expression on his face, as always, made her breath falter. He smiled as he plucked at the buttons of her shirt, and a shaky chuckle died in her throat when he focused his attention on her face.

  “Human quick or vampire slow?” Connor growled playfully, arching his eyebrows as his cool fingertips traced distracting patterns over her skin. He finished with the buttons and lost himself in the tempo of her galloping heartbeat, almost like a thrum of panic. The rhythm of it excited him. He ran his finger around the waistband of her jeans, her heart rate hitched up another notch, and Connor suffered an incendiary burn of hunger like a stake through his chest. He watched in fascination as her cheeks flushed, and his hunger burned brighter. Swallowing down a groan, he waited for her words to release him.