It was the first time I ever called him by his name.
“Me too,” he said. “Me too.”
He charged, breath white in the frigid air.
I stood my ground and let the world run into red and white.
This was it.
I drew in a deep, steadying breath and braced for the initial push that would bowl me onto my back, given half the chance.
I would give him no chance.
No quarter received, no quarter allowed.
Moving with a speed and ferocity that would've been beautiful if it wasn't me about to get eviscerated, he lunged forward, claws catching the moonlight and I dodged the blow, scoring a slash across his chest.
The fur and skin split apart like a seam coming undone and blood sprayed in a thin mist that drenched my face, turned my vision red.
He reared back, head thrown back into a howl and I saw the killing blow that would crush my skull and spine.
I beat it.
I ran him through to the hilt, my feet sliding back on the slippery pebbles and felt his body convulse underneath my hands.
Howls filled the night air as he staggered back.
I was too close; claws scored deeply into my back, tearing through the leather jacket, bringing forth blood and fire in their wake.
It was his death strike.
But I needed his death ensured.
My back was nothing compared to what I was doing to him.
I twisted the blade, felt the hot, almost scorchingly hot blood drench my hands. Abruptly, the sword gave way and the blade snapped at the hilt, still embedded deep into his chest.
He fell back, a cloud of dust arising from his descent.
My legs went weak and I fell to my knees.
I was still alive.
And he was dead.
Such is the way of my world.
Marcus coughed and I watched as the wolf shrunk into itself.
The fur shrank into nothing, the claws retracted, and the bones re-knit themselves into the form of a stout, powerfully built man with two feet of metal in him like a spit.
He convulsed once, a rattle coming forth from the throat offered up to the moon, and went still.
I began to shiver, the familiar pain starting at the base of my neck, the pain that would consume me whole.
“Well done.”
I looked over my shoulder, not surprised to find Noir watching from a few feet away. “How long have you been standing there?”
He let one shoulder rise and then fall in a nonchalant, casual manner. “Long enough.”
“The vampires watching you?”
He only smiled.
That was answer enough.
Then, the darkness overwhelmed me.
I did not stop it.
18
We were in another car.
It was a much smaller one, one that smelled like cigarettes and wet animals and when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a blond man with clear blue eyes that reminded me of the summer sky. Back when I knew what the day looked like, anyways.
Ryder smiled. "Hey. You're alive."
My throat felt scratchy and I tried to lever myself up. My head was in his lap, my legs scrunched up on the other end of the car. "Where am I?"
A flicker of something passed through those eyes. Uncertainty? "We're headed back to the club. There's a fucking riot going on out there and you need to rest. If it wasn't for your pulse, we would've thought you were dead." He whistled under his breath. "Congrats on putting that bad wolf away. Never thought you had it in you to kill an alpha. No wonder everyone's afraid of you."
I wanted to laugh. Badly. "Everyone's afraid of me? Hardly."
“I dunno. With your back messed up like that, you definitely don’t look like someone I’d want to mess with.”
I remembered. "My back."
"Yeah," said Ryder, still with that silly, don't-worry smile that did nothing to appease my anxiety. "It's pretty fucked up. I covered up the wound with my jacket so you wouldn't stick to the car seat. Man, you're going to have some amazing scars to show your kids when you're older."
"I'm not having children," I said. "I don't want to be responsible for them."
An eyebrow went up. "Are you some kind of weird feminist?"
"It has nothing to do with being a feminist," I said. "I don't know how to be a mother."
"You think anyone knows how to take care of children?" He scoffed. "Hell, no one has a fucking idea when someone shoves a baby in their arms. Everyone just takes the kid and runs." A corner of his lips quirked. "Metaphorically speaking. Although, it has been known to happen literally, from time to time."
"Really? And what would something like you know about that?"
The moment his eyes narrowed, I wanted to kick myself in the face.
“Sorry,” he said, curtly. “Yeah. I'm dead. What do I know about having kids, right?”
I closed my eyes as the ugly pulsing in the back of my head threatened to take me back down into oblivion. “That was unnecessary of me. I'm sorry.”
I felt him move closer, felt his breath move the hairs on my temple. “Oh yeah? You really sorry, hm?”
My stomach heaved and for a moment, I really thought I was going to lose everything I had in his lap. “Please. Stop the car.”
“What? Stop the car? Why?”
I rolled in his lap and ended up on the other side of the car, forehead smashed against the cold window. “Just do it!”
I was already fumbling for the door and when the car screeched to a stop in the middle of late night traffic, I was halfway out the door, throwing up nothing but bile.
Horns honked, making my head pound even harder, which in turn caused the nausea to swell to truly magnificent heights.
Someone rubbed my back, murmuring something gentle.
Was it Ryder again? Probably; even through the sickly sweetness and asphalt, I could still smell stargazer lilies.
“Watch it, fuckwads!”
A large black truck screeched past us, the wheels dangerously close to my hanging head and the rubbing ceased for a moment.
“Are you feeling better?”
I nodded. I didn't even have the strength to say anything.
He held out a white silk handkerchief and I wiped at my mouth.
“Do you want us to stop?”
I shook my head. I didn't think I had anything more left to throw up.
He drew me back into the car, movements surprisingly soft, and I laid my head back on the headrest, staring up at the fabric underside of the car roof.
I matched eyes with the driver in the rear-view mirror. Black eyes, just like mine, but tip-tilted at the corners, dark, strong brows set in a perpetual scowl.
“Is she ill?” he asked, in a surprisingly low voice.
You didn't meet a lot of Asians with low voices.
Ryder put a hand on my forehead, for whatever reason. His touch was cool. I knew he was a corpse, just the walking dead, but he didn't feel like it.
Gods, I was tired.
“Seems okay, Van. I'd say we're good to go,” he said to the driver who turned off his hazards and accelerated the car in a smooth motion.
I was having a hard time trying to focus. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and sleep for the next couple of months. “Where are you taking me?”
“The Black Masque,” he said, still looking at me closely.
“Noir?”
“Fenrir and Vincent came for him. They went to see how bad the damage was at Noir's place.”
“And Annabelle?”
Ryder sucked in a breath and then shook his head. “I...Honestly, I don't know. I don't fancy being her, though, when Vincent catches up to her. She's been part of the square for at least twenty years. Noir and Vincent aren't going to take her betrayal easily.”
The driver took a left and I was proud of keeping my body under control. The dull thudding in my head was starting to lessen. “She took Jason. She's being manipulated. There's someo
ne else pulling the strings.”
The vampire's face was immobile. “I don't know anything about that.”
Vampires were damn good liars. I should know. “Don't you?”
He turned away, as though he couldn't stand to look at me anymore. “Vincent wants you out of trouble. For now, anyways.”
Vincent wants you out of trouble.
“No.”
I felt the driver's eyes on me as he continued to drive silently.
Ryder shifted. No seat belt for him. No seat belt for the driver, either. Vampire? He didn't feel like one...
I considered testing his aura, seeing what color his soul ran, but decided against it. I needed my strength. Whatever secrets Van had, he was more than welcome to them.
After tonight, I would never see these vampires again.
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean, no,” I repeated. “I'm not going back to the club. I need to find Jason.”
I heard Ryder swallow audibly. “Um. That's...that's really not a good idea.”
I met the driver's eyes. I think I spoke more to him than Ryder. “Find me a car. I have to find...my master.”
My master.
Was honor worth dying for?
I promised Jason my life.
I was his Ailward.
And if it killed me, would I be okay with it?
Last week, I hunted vampires. Tonight, I hunted one to save his life.
I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips.
Indeed, life was strange.
Or maybe it was just my life that was strange.
Ryder shook his head. “No way. Not happening. Do you have any idea what Vincent's going to do when he finds out I let you go?”
I curled my fingers inward, felt the tip of the bisu prick my index finger. I thought it was kind of amazing, how often my life seemed to count on this dagger that measured only four inches from tip to hilt. “So, you will take me back. Regardless of my wishes.”
He groaned. “Oh, man. Don't say that. Look, he means the best. I don't know what you did to take down Marcus, but this is war. You're not going to survive three seconds against a vampire of Annabelle's caliber. She's a dumb ass, but she's strong.”
My humility stopped me from saying I was strong, too.
Ryder must have taken my silence for assent and settled back in his seat, his well-shaped profile to me. “I know it's tough to take a, hah, back seat but we mean the best. Vincent wants you to stay alive. We'll get Jason safe and sound for you. The fight's over for you, Ran.”
The fight's over for you.
“Is it, Ryder?” I asked. “Is it really over?”
He nodded. “Just close your eyes and relax. Let us do what we do best.”
Let us do what we do best.
I did close my eyes, and when I did, all I could hear was Jason's voice echoing incessantly in the back of my mind.
Perhaps I have been waiting for you.
That was before he changed.
Could it really only have been a week?
Gods, it seemed like half an eternity.
Perhaps I have been waiting for you.
Could I?
I need you, Ran.
Damn it, I didn't have a choice anymore.
I drew in a deep breath and then opened my eyes. “I'm sorry, Ryder.”
He turned to look at me with the wide, cornflower blue eyes. “What do you--”
I moved.
He moved.
I was faster.
All this, Van watched with dispassionate eyes and when I pricked Ryder's neck with the dagger, not even Van's eyelids flickered.
He only continued driving, although most of his attention was on us, not on the road. For some reason, this didn't bother as much as it should have. I got the rather disconcerting feeling he could have navigated through rush-hour traffic with a blindfold three inches thick.
Ryder's voice was almost inaudible. “You're making a big, big mistake.”
“I wouldn't swallow if I were you,” I said, wishing I had another pair of eyes on the back of my head so I could keep track of the vampire in front of me and the one behind me. “Vampire or not, this blade has the highest ratio of silver that can be forged into a blade. It would hurt you a lot.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I can feel it.”
Indeed, I could see a small red welt forming just over his jugular where the blade had sunk a millimeter deep into his tanned skin. “I'm sorry about this. But I can't just go to sleep now. I have a duty. I promised Jason.”
Van snorted. “What is honor to humans like you?”
“It's the only thing I've got left,” I said and then wished I had kept my mouth shut.
He went quiet and then stopped for a red light.
“Turn a right here,” I ordered.
“I am not in the right lane.”
“I said, do it!”
Desperation made my hand tremble just a bit and Ryder yelped as the dagger dug deeper into his throat. “Damn it, Van, listen to her!”
Van's black eyes narrowed. “Whether you live or die is none of my concern. My orders were to deposit the human at the club. I follow my orders to the letter.”
"And what were your orders? To the letter, if you don't mind."
The light turned back to green and he accelerated slowly, smoothly. Shit. "Get you to the Black Masque. Make sure you stay alive."
"Just those two orders?"
He nodded, eyes still on me.
I let out a breath and Ryder mewed in pain. He had to be in some pain, but I couldn't afford to give any ground. Not just yet.
Not when there was so much at stake. "Fine. Then, I should hope for Ryder's sake the Masque is close."
The only reply I got was a lifting of brows from Van and a slow groan from Ryder.
"You don't play fair," he whispered. “We just want you to stay alive.”
I couldn’t pull the blade from his neck. Not just yet. “I’ve never needed anyone to pull my ass from the fire, and I’m not about to start now.’
My hand would not stop shaking and a sharp, steady pain ran up and down my arm, but I couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry, Ryder.”
And even through the pain, his lips kicked up at the corners. “You know, most other people I’d tell them they were fucking crazy and to stay the fuck away from me. You, I’m still bugging for that date.”
I blinked and almost let down my guard. Damn it. “What?”
“You promised me a date, didn’t you?” he asked. “Well, I still want it.”
I stared at him. “You’re the crazy one.”
He let out a soft laugh. “Yeah. Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
“We’re here.”
Van coasted into a brightly lit parking lot filled with bustling figures, most of them with auras that seeped darkness like light filtering through a thin curtain.
Being around this many bloodsuckers made the hair on the back of my neck rise. “Good. Turn off the ignition and let me get out.”
Ryder gaped at me. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave?”
“How badly do you want that date?” What a stupid idea. Still, if I could use it as a bargaining chip, perhaps it wasn’t such a dumb idea, after all.
“Um,” he said slowly. “Not enough to make Vincent pissed at me.”
“Van! What are your orders?”
“Escort you to safety. Keep you alive at any costs.”
I shifted in the seat and felt backwards for the door handle. “Well, you’ve brought me to safety, or so you succintly put it. Well, if you want to follow your orders, then I guess you’re just going to have to follow me.”
There was a car idling in the next parking spot, a truck with flames riding up the sides of it. As far as getaway vehicles went, it wasn’t the most sauve, but at this point, I would have jumped into a Smartcar if I thought it could get me to Jason.
I squeezed the lever and fell out onto the parking lot, my back hitting the pa
vement, breathing leaving my body in a whoosh.
Somehow managing to roll onto my feet, I leaped the half foot into the interior of the truck, almost bashing my forehead on the doorway.
The clutch provided to be a bit of a obstacle and I wasted precious seconds trying to work past it, but finally I had my foot on the dash and I peeled out of the parking lot like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were behind me.
I didn’t dare look back, too afraid of what I was going to see.
A sudden blow in the cab rocked the truck to and fro and I almost plowed straight through a set of mailboxes in the strip mall across from the club.
Jerking the steering wheel back before I could ram into the front window of a nail salon, I let my gaze flit to the rear-view mirror.
Ryder waved merrily, his light hair blowing in the fifty mile per hour wind.
I cursed and had to swerve into the next lane to avoid hitting a slow moving silver Volvo.
“We got you to the club!” I heard Ryder scream over the roar. “Now I just got to keep you safe! If Vincent gets angry, then he can go and sit on a spike!”
Crazy vampire.
Oh God.
Why was I smiling?
I chalked it up to the general insanity of the night and concentrated on driving without causing any accidents.
Too bad I wasn’t driving slower.
A blare of red and blue filled the peripheral of my eyes as I ran a red light and sirens rent the air.
Another look in the rear view mirror showed Ryder looking backwards at a Centennial City police car catching up.
“I think we just broke about three different laws!” screamed Ryder and I resisted the urge to bash my head against the steering wheel.
I couldn’t afford the delay. Even now, I could smell Jason’s sandlewood scent in the air, barely discernible but I could trace it.
Not if a police car was following me. He had probably called up half the squad and pretty soon the one police car would multiply into fifteen.
I had to ditch this car.
I rolled down the window and screamed over the roar of winter air. “Hang on!”
Banking a sharp right into a parking structure, for one sickening moment, I felt the wheels skid and then the truck listing to the left.
No, no, no, no!
The car was going to flip!
Invincible (A Centennial City Novel) Page 24