The Series that Just Plain Sucks: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

  I could barely see his face through the blood pouring out of a long gash across his forehead. Blood was also soaking his tan shirt. Though I could feel my thirst rising up in my throat, it wasn't like when I smelled human blood. The red liquid pouring from Nik's body smelled diluted. I breathed through my mouth and focused on my work.

  I found a hole in his shirt and gave it a good yank, effectively tearing the shirt in half. Nik's abdomen had a strange gouge in it, as though Richard had managed to shove his fist into the soft part of Nik's belly. I could see some of his smaller ribs were broken near the tip. Along the edge of the wound, the flesh looked bruised. I tried not to think of it as blood and guts. The thing was it didn't disgust me. Seeing his wounds made me hungry. I dragged my eyes away from his stomach. Nik's left shoulder looked dislocated and his right foot was pointing in the wrong direction. I didn't even know where to begin or what to do.

  I punctured the blood bag with my own teeth, careful not to taste the blood myself. I realized I couldn't remember the last time Nik had eaten—not since meeting me over thirty-six hours ago. Nik appeared to be unconscious, so I tipped his head back and dribbled the cold liquid onto his lips, hoping it would revive him. I tried to ignore my own desire, which was making it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. This blood did not smell watered down not at all. His lips moved mechanically and clamped down onto the plastic. Once he had drained the bag, he opened his eyes. They were a very faded shade of green. He blinked a few times and tried to position his head against the cabinet.

  I slipped out of my sweatshirt and tore the hood off. This whole vampire strength thing could sure come in handy. I placed the hood on his forehead and positioned his good hand on the makeshift bandage. He left it there, applying a little pressure. I used the rest of the sweatshirt to plug the hole in his stomach. To my surprise, it already appeared slightly smaller. In fact, the broken ribs appeared to be mended. Careful not to bump him, I leaned around the island to see Josh. He had devoured the blood and was now curled up on the floor. Overall he still seemed to be in better shape than Nik.

  “Nik,” I whispered. His eyes fluttered open. “I don't know what to do. Your shoulder is dislocated and I think your ankle is broken.”

  He swallowed before speaking. “Where's Josh?”

  “Over there. He doesn't seem to be conscious. He drank some blood.”

  Nik nodded once, very slowly. “Carefully manipulate the shoulder back into place,” he instructed.

  Now it was my turn to swallow. I didn't know how to do this, but there wasn't anyone to run to. Normally, I realized, I would have run to Nik, but now he was the one hurt and bleeding. I swallowed again before taking his arm and extending it away from his body. I did exactly as he told me to, finally hearing the pop as it relocated. Nik sighed with relief.

  “What about your ankle?”

  “You need to re-break it before it heals any further.”

  I could feel my eyes grow larger.

  “You can do it,” he encouraged in a rather feeble voice. “Just be quick.”

  I shifted my position and took hold of his foot. This wasn't going to be fun. Before I could think about the pain I was causing, I twisted the foot back into the proper position. To my astonishment, Nik didn't scream. He didn't even jerk. Still, his face told me that it had hurt him far more than the initial break.

  I felt hot tears start to roll down my cheek. This wasn't the time to get emotional, I told myself sternly. He was still very hurt. I went back to his side and carefully pried the soaked sweatshirt away from his stomach. The massive crater had shrunk to the size of a golf ball. In fact, it didn't seem to be bleeding any more. I reached out and pulled the hood away from his forehead. The cut was nothing more than a fresh scab. Wow, he healed fast! Age really did have its benefits.

  “Go check on Josh.”

  I obeyed, for once. Josh stayed asleep while I checked on his wounds. As I expected, the back of his head had been cut open and the skull cracked, but it appeared to be nearly healed, though his red hair was matted with dried blood. I wasn't too worried about his nose, which had also stopped bleeding. The gash on his neck seemed to be taking a position of last priority. It still oozed blood. Josh woke up as I neared the end of my inspection.

  “Anything broken?” I asked, having not seen any misshapen bits.

  He shook his head carefully but drifted back to sleep before I could ask any more questions. I glanced over at Nik who was watching me from his slumped position in the kitchen.

  “Get him to the guest bed, if you can,” he said in a soft, gravelly voice.

  I eyed Josh's body. He was about the same height as me, but I knew he weighed more than me. At least, my girlish pride hoped he did. Could I lift him?

  Of course, a small part of my mind announced. I'm a vampire after all. I managed to get an arm under his shoulders and the other under his knees. I lifted with my legs as my father taught me. To my astonishment, it felt like I was carrying a small child.

  But which was the guest bedroom?

  Nik motioned toward the room I hadn’t seen yet. It was smaller than the other, simply decorated, with clean, basic furniture. I gently placed Josh on the bed, not worrying about the blood stains forming on the cream bedspread, and covered him with the throw blanket from the foot of the bed.

  In the kitchen, I found Nik right where I'd left him. “Go get some sleep. You can use my room.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “I shouldn't put weight on my ankle for a few more hours. I'll go to the couch when I can.”

  I rolled my eyes at his manly stupidity. “Don't be ridiculous.” I moved to his side and reached for his good shoulder in an effort to pick him up.

  “No,” he ordered. “I'll not have you carrying me.”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” I sighed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. It failed to hide just how shaken I really was. Sarcasm, I have found, is typically my greatest mask.

  I hadn't intended on carrying him, never really imagining I could manage it. This was Nik, after all. It had nothing to do with pounds or muscles, even supernatural muscles. I just couldn't fathom myself capable of lifting the most powerful person I knew. “You can at least lean against me and hop to the bed. There is no reason for you to stay here.”

  Nik hesitated a moment before nodding slowly. I bent down and lifted him by his good shoulder, my other arm slipping around his waist as he grabbed onto the counter and helped me. He placed his good arm over my shoulders and we hobbled toward his bedroom.

  It wasn't graceful, but we got there in the end.

  I lowered him to the bed and tucked the covers around him, again not worried about the stains. He was asleep before I had finished with his blankets. I didn't wait to search through his drawers for a clean shirt. Rather, I collapsed beside the bed and fell fast asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I woke to the sound of a shower turning off. It took me a moment to remember the happenings of last night, or even where I was. Perhaps that was because I was no longer where I had fallen asleep. I now rested on the edge of Nik's large bed, his thick covers draped over my body. The door to the bathroom opened, bathing me in warm light and revealing Nikolai wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His face darkened with the heat of a blush. I'd never seen him get embarrassed before.

  “Um… sorry… I thought you were still asleep and I forgot to grab a change of clothing.” He headed to the dresser, limping slightly. He grabbed a pair of boxers and jeans before returning to the bathroom. I didn't know how to respond to his chagrin.

  The images of last night's attack came back in vivid color, distracting me from the man in the bathroom. I remembered it all: the feeling of satisfaction as I drove the table leg into my attackers chest—I was astonishingly happy that he had been attacking me before I killed him—the fear when I saw my friends hurt after fighting for me, and the relief when it was all over. A moment later, Nik returned with the clothing on, but I took no notic
e of him; I was too deep in thought.

  “Something on your mind?” he asked, sitting on the foot of the bed.

  “How in the world did we survive that?”

  Nik smirked. “You were a cunning warrior.”

  “Ha! Don't lie to me. I flailed around. It took me three tries to get his heart.”

  “All right, not exactly cunning, but lucky.”

  I smiled. “Yes, very lucky.”

  “It helped that he had orders to take you alive. He couldn't inflict much damage or he would have been killed by Richard. Wrangling a vamp is harder than killing one, so that gave you an advantage. And once Isaac saw that he had two of you to face—one of which he wasn't allowed to hurt—he bowed out, leaving Richard alone. This, of course, caused him to run. No doubt Isaac heard an earful about that.”

  I smiled at the thought. “Lucky,” I repeated before climbing out of the large bed. I glanced at the place on the floor where I remembered falling asleep.

  “I moved you when I woke up. You could have joined me on the bed. I wouldn't have noticed.”

  I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and wondered why I was so embarrassed. It's not like Nik would have been up to trying anything. Nevertheless, the idea of sharing a bed with him made my stomach give a little flip.

  “Bathroom’s all yours. I'll get you something else to wear,” Nik said in what appeared to be an effort to change the subject. I was grateful.

  I could only imagine what he might have that would fit me. Apparently nothing. Nik produced a pair of basketball shorts—with a draw string—and a T-shirt he considered too small. I grimaced, but willingly took the clothing. It was better than my blood-stained outfit.

  After showering and dressing, I found the men sitting on the couches drinking their breakfast. They had already cleared away the rubble from the fight and cleaned up the dried blood. The only signs that there had been a fight were the two holes in the drywall and the lack of a kitchen table. I joined them on the couch and took the blood bag offered me, while trying not to stare at the livid scar on Josh’s throat—the only remaining scar on his once battered body. His face was bright with excitement.

  “So what's the plan?” Josh asked as he tossed his bloody bag onto the coffee table.

  “Well,” Nik began as he gathered up Josh’s bag before it could leak onto the rich wood. I noticed the faint shadow of a small shoe print on the table where I had stood. “We can either go digging into Ashley's past or we can go after the loot.”

  “Ooo, choices, choices, choices,” I said, my sarcasm firmly back in place. To my surprise they both laughed. For some reason, despite the epic battle we'd waged yesterday morning, the numerous somber discussions, and me trying to commit suicide; everyone's mood was lifted to an almost euphoric level. I glanced at both of them. “Let's deal with the treasure hunt. I don't really fancy a deep inspection into my backstory. But, at some point soon, could one of you teach me some basic fighting skills. I'm sensing it might be worthwhile… all things considered.”

  “How ‘bout you just stay out of the fights, eh, light weight?” Nik suggested as he pinched the toes on the bare foot I had resting on his coffee table.

  “How ‘bout you keep us from getting into fights, and I won’t need the skills to defend myself,” I countered, ignoring the fact that it was really my fault. I stood up, not wanting him in a position to mess with my feet again.

  “Are you saying yesterday’s fight was my fault?”

  Dammit, that’s not what I had meant, but I didn’t want to admit it. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Josh slip away.

  “And if I am?” I asked to give myself more time to think. “The facts are one, we do battle.” I ticked it off on my finger. “Two, you can’t always protect me.”

  “I can certainly try.”

  I felt a sense of relief. I had diverted him from my own stupid mouth and the things that come out of it.

  “But that’s not the point. You think there is something I could have done to keep that fight from happening.” It wasn’t a question.

  Double dammit. I hadn’t distracted him as well as I had thought. My frustration with the situation was keeping me from thinking clearly. The smart thing to do would have been to apologize and drop the subject. I’m not always smart.

  “Yes!” I roared. “Couldn’t you have just shut the door in his face or something? Josh got really hurt.”

  “Oh… so you’re worried about Josh now, eh?”

  “Yeah. He’s younger than you. He doesn’t heal as fast.”

  “Don’t repeat to me the things I’ve taught you.”

  “Then act like you know it!”

  “There was nothing I could have done to stop the fight,” he snarled through his teeth.

  “Whatever,” I growled back. “Now, are you going to teach me how to fight?”

  Nik didn’t even take a moment to think; he simply swung and punched me in the face. The blow flattened me. I landed on my back, the breath completely knocked out of my chest from the hard landing. My eyes blinked of their own accord, chasing away the tears that had sprouted.

  “Here endeth the lesson,” said Nik in a surprisingly accurate imitation of Sean Connery.

  I blinked again, too shocked to respond quickly. “Seriously?” I finally snapped, my voice coming back in full force.

  Nik nodded.

  “Real helpful, jackass.”

  Evidently my voice carried. I heard Josh's door open as I climbed to my feet. I glared at him as he sipped on another blood bag.

  “He pull ‘The Untouchables’ on you?”

  I nodded, but stopped when a drunk percussionist took up residence behind the shiner quickly forming around my eye.

  “Next time you won't let me hit you,” grumbled Nik.

  I was about to take a swing at him myself when Josh changed the subject.

  “So, now that the lesson is clearly over, are we going to get moving?”

  “Could we stop by my place?” I asked as I straightened the oversized T-shirt I was wearing.

  On the way to my apartment, Nik dropped Josh off at Bayview Thriftway.

  “You know what to get.” Josh nodded. We zoomed away. As we neared the street, I spotted the last thing I ever wanted to see. Chloe and Jordan were in the parking lot, leaning against his car and flirting. I felt a hefty twinge of pain and regret. I'd never gone this long without seeing or talking to them. When was the last time I'd seen them? Tuesday night? Maybe it hadn't been that long, but it felt like a lifetime.

  Would they want to see me now, now that I was a murderer?

  Thankfully, Nik drove quickly and they didn't notice me staring at them. Though I missed them, I didn't want to talk to them. Not until I knew they would be safe in my company. It was a strange feeling—wanting yet dreading. I tried to picture our reunion and the image wasn’t reassuring. Despite my best effort, the image always ended in blood and death.

  Was this to be my life from now on? No. I wouldn't let that happen.

  We arrived at my house and sped up the stairs. Nik went straight to the desk chair and sat down. I wondered if his ankle was bothering him still. Muffler flicked his tail at me and moved to Nik's lap. I dumped a fresh mound of food into his half empty bowl, hoping to make up for my absence.

  “How nice of you to visit,” the cat murmured.

  “I'm sorry, Muffler.”

  I walked over to where Nik was sitting and started to stroke the gray cat. Muffler allowed me three strokes before moving to the desk, just out of my reach. I'd been rejected by my own cat—a new low. With a sigh I moved to my dresser and pulled out one of the last clean T-shirts. Pretty soon I was going to have to tell the mystical world to take a day off. I needed to do laundry.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After I got dressed, Nik drove us to the northern end of the docks, near Budd Bay Cafe. Yep, Olympia has docks. They're not that impressive, but plenty of rich folks need someplace to store their ocean-going treasures. Josh met us at one
of the tall chain link gates that barred the way onto the narrow docks. Nik reached out to the padlock, gave it a squeeze, and tore it from the gate.

  We trudged down the metal steps onto the wooden dock, which swayed slightly with the incoming tide. Though Olympia rests on the very tip of Budd Inlet, a branch of Puget Sound, it never smelled of sea water. No, Olympia just smelled like rotting mud. When the tide goes out, it doesn't leave behind spotless beaches but rather rolling piles of brown goo. It was such a well-known aspect of the Olympia culture that some organizations had sponsored races across the mud flats that produced nothing but a bit of money and a lot of dirty athletes. I never involved myself in these antics. I didn't like running—unless I was being chased.

  Nik led us to the far end of the dock, where there were fewer boats. He glanced at Josh, who pulled out a battery-powered bug zapper, inserted the D batteries, and flipped it on. I watched as a few of the bugs flitting around the inlet zoomed for the pulsing purple device. They were instantly fried, sending off tiny wisps of smoke.

  “Now what?” I asked as Josh set the bug zapper on the dock. Josh sat down, crossing his legs as if he were in kindergarten. Nik was already leaning against one of the concrete pillars that held the long wooden structure in place.

  “We wait… quietly,” he added for my benefit.

  “What are waiting for?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Fae. Now shut up.”

  I glowered at him as I pointedly took a seat next to Josh. I was still upset with Nik for his earlier statement concerning my involvement with his people’s death and the whole punching me in the face thing. His snide remarks weren't helping. Nik seemed to be in an equally bad mood.

  It wasn't a long wait. Just about the time I grew bored with watching bugs fly to their death, three little sparks of bluish-green light zipped into the pulsing purple device. The tiny glowing mote fell to the wooden dock, flickering as they responded to the assault of the bug zapper.