Amaranthine Special Edition Vol I

by Naylor, Joleene

  He cut her off, “I don't care what they think. I didn't ask them to like you.” He smiled. “Personally, I'm rather fond of you.”

  “Why?” she asked suddenly. Every vampire they'd met made a point of mentioning how substandard she was, how Jorick normally hated humans and how pathetic and useless she was, so why did he feel so differently about it?

  “I don't hate humans,” he laughed, answering her unspoken thoughts. “Patrick was human, if you recall.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, irritated not only with the intrusion, but that he’d danced around the real question. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what? Commenting on your thoughts, or changing the subject?” He grinned.

  “Both. You're always brushing my questions off, Jorick. I want an answer this time.”

  “Ah, little one.” He drew her close to him, one hand twining in her long blonde hair. “Always so full of doubts and fears. Relax and let the ebb and flow take you where it will. Time is immaterial and unimportant. There are no answers for many of life's mysteries, and if there were they wouldn't be half as appealing as the wondering is.”

  She pulled back to look into his face, her eyes serious. “I don't know about that.”

  “I do,” he said simply. “What do you want? A list of things I find appealing about you? Or do you want me to recount the moment I realized it all? Or the scene when Patrick realized it?”

  Katelina caught her breath. “Patrick?”

  Jorick sighed. “Yes. He wasn’t pleased, to say the least. But, there was nothing that could be done about it, in either direction.” He coughed lightly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you want to hear.”

  “I thought you could read my mind?” she muttered. “I don’t know. That list thing sounded like a good idea.”

  Jorick laughed softly, “Does it? Perhaps I’ll write it down it for you someday.” He glanced over his shoulder and through the window. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east. “The sun will be upon us soon. Come.” He took her hand and started for the stairs.

  “Jorick.” She stopped him, her hand still in his and her eyes searching his face. “I don't want to be here.”

  “Neither do I,” he responded heavily. “But we are, so we should make the best of it. Now come before the sun rises and leaves you standing here with a pile of ashes.”

  She could tell by his face it was supposed to be a joke, but she didn't find it very amusing. “Your sense of humor needs some work,” she replied. “Would you really turn to ash?”

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “Not immediately. Loren might,” he added thoughtfully. “I’d probably survive but it would take several days and a lot of blood to recuperate.” He smiled at her. “I’d rather not test it, though, if you don’t mind.”

  She rolled her eyes and let him lead her back down into the house, his laughter rippling in the early morning air.

  **********

  Chapter Fourteen

  The light in the windows across the street were like golden beacons in a sea of night. She looked at them and sighed; a heavy, foreign sound.

  “Why does she leave the blinds up and the curtains open? Does she want to attract attention, or is she naïve enough to believe there’s no one looking?”

  “Thoughtless is a better description,” Oren replied, a sneer in his voice.

  Oren?

  Yes, this was a dream; another one of Jorick’s dreams. And Katelina was along for the ride, like a third party observer, looking through Jorick’s eyes at a building she recognized all too well.

  The heavy sigh was repeated, and Jorick murmured quietly, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “We all know what you meant.”

  Someone coughed, and Jorick turned towards the sound. Patrick stood across the empty room, leaning uncomfortably against the wall. He tried to look casual, but his posture was stiff. The sight of him, seemingly alive and far sharper than he appeared in her own memories, made Katelina’s heart catch. But in the dream, he was unaware of her presence and only glanced at the cheap plastic watch on his wrist. “Where’s Michael?”

  “He’ll be here soon,” Oren assured him, his voice all confidence.

  As if on cue, the door banged open, then closed, and Michael strode into the room. He looked different than when Katelina had seen him in Jorick’s basement. His hair was still long and blonde, and his eyes the same shade of blue as Patrick’s, but he was fleshed out and looked human.

  Except that he wasn’t.

  Patrick straightened and stepped towards his brother. “What took so long?”

  “Elsa was late,” he answered with a shrug, but the causal gesture didn’t match the tension in his eyes. “She said that Claudius is planning to contact The Guild about this.”

  “The Guild?” Patrick repeated the word with all the terror it deserved. He looked to Jorick, as if seeking some kind of protection. “What will they do?”

  “Take her back,” Jorick answered calmly. “But that would negate Claudius’s claim of war. Once The Guild is involved he has to give them full control in the matter, including the punishment. That means he can’t get revenge.”

  “So Katelina would be safe?”

  Jorick looked away and stared at nothing. “Not exactly. It means the war with Oren’s coven would be finished, but…” he broke off.

  “But they don’t care about humans?” Patrick demanded, his voice hard. “Is that it?”

  “Something like that, yes.” Oren stepped towards him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’s perfectly safe, Patrick. Jorick is already watching over her.”

  Patrick pulled away, shaking his head. “No. We need to give Arowenia back. We can’t win anything here.” He met his brother’s eyes. “It’s too late, Michael. We need to just take the punishment and-”

  “Punishment?” Michael exploded. “It won’t be punishment, it’ll be death!” He stabbed a furious finger towards the window. “I’m not dying for her!”

  “It’s not for her!” Patrick snapped. “We’re the ones who fucked up! I’m not gonna let Katelina get hurt over it!”

  Michael moved towards his brother threateningly. “He releases us both, or he doesn’t get Arowenia back! Those were the terms, and he can take them or leave them! We’re not going back!”

  “He won’t do it!” Patrick shouted. “If he was going to agree he’d have already done it! The plan didn’t work! No one revolted, and no one’s going to help us! Why can’t you see that?”

  Oren held up his hands and tried to diffuse the situation. “Now, now, we don’t know that for sure. He may yet bargain.”

  Jorick sighed and Katelina felt his doubt. He knew better, but he glanced back to the window and stayed silent.

  “And what if he doesn’t?” Patrick demanded. “God damn it, he’s going to kill her! How would you like it if someone threatened to kill Jesslynn? Would you just stand by and wait to see if they did it?”

  Jorick suddenly turned back to the conversation, a thin pulse of anger running beneath his words. “No one’s going to kill her. I won’t let them.”

  “For now! And what happens when this is all over? You’re not gonna stay here and watch her forever!” Something on Jorick’s face made him falter. “Are you?”

  “No,” Oren assured him quickly. “Of course not.”

  But wheels of thought were turning behind Patrick’s eyes. “Jorick?”

  Oren cleared his throat noisily and changed the topic; or tried to. “Michael, did Elsa say anything else?”

  “Not really.” He looked at his brother. “Let it go, Pat. It doesn’t matter, right now. You guys can fight over her later.”

  Patrick’s attention snapped from one to the other in turn, his eyes demanding answers that everyone seemed to already know. “Fight over her? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” Jorick answered with no emotion, but his face apparently held the knowledge Patrick sought.

  “What the fuck?”
he shouted his hands fists at his side. “What are you- What did you do?”

  Oren rushed to get between them. “He hasn’t done anything, and he isn’t going to, either.” He shot Jorick a warning look. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

  “Forget it?” Patrick demanded. “Forget what? That he’s… what? What is it? He has the fucking hots for her? Is that it?”

  Jorick made an angry noise in his throat, but Michael answered for him. “He thinks he’s in love with her.”

  Oren nearly groaned, but he recovered quickly and glared at Michael. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, I do. I heard you guys talking.” The fanged smile he shot back was almost smug. “He told you he was falling in love with her and you said he only thought he was because he loves weak little women who need protected and he said-”

  “God damn it!” Patrick swore. “I thought we could trust you; I thought I could trust you! And now I find out you’re over here fantasizing about her! She’s my girlfriend! Not yours!”

  Girlfriend?

  Jorick shoved Oren out of the way and closed the distance between himself and Patrick in an instant. “I’m over here doing your job!” Jorick snarled in his face. “That’s what I’m doing. If you want something to stay yours, then you should protect it yourself!”

  Patrick flinched away with a mixture of surprise and fear, but anger quickly took control. “You stay the fuck away from her, you got it?” And then he turned on his heel and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

  The sound still echoed when Oren muttered darkly, “If that human ruins this, I swear I’ll take care of her, myself.”

  The scene shimmered, then changed.

  The apartment was one Katelina knew; brown carpet, off white walls, piles of junk everywhere. It was Patrick’s house. He lay on the floor, blood pooling around him and soaking into the carpet from wounds Katelina knew too well. She’d seen this, hadn’t she? Only…

  Only Michael hadn’t been standing over him looking guilty when she’d seen it.

  “He was going to take her back to Claudius!” Michael cried. His eyes were wild, and blood was splattered across his face. “He’d have killed us both!”

  “God dammit!” Jorick swore loudly. “I told you to wait until I got here!”

  “I couldn’t! He was leaving! I had to stop him! I didn’t mean…” he trailed off and shuddered. “It was an accident!” His whole attitude suddenly changed. “But maybe it’s for the better. He’s right, you know. The Guild wants to execute us – me,” he corrected, with a glance to his dead brother. “We could just give Arowenia back in exchange for a promise that Claudius will pardon me, and you can have Katelina. You wanted her anyway, and now that Pat’s out of the way-”

  Jorick backhanded him, and sent him flying across the room. He crashed into the wall and slid down to the floor, swearing.

  “I’d shut my mouth, if I were you.” Jorick glanced at the body, then at Michael, who was already climbing to his feet. Katelina could feel his urgency; it was late. The sun would be up in an hour. There was no time for this. “Damn it, Michael. This wasn’t the plan.”

  “No, it’s better to let me get killed?” he cried, nearly hysterical. “I’m not going to be executed for her!”

  “And you think he’ll reward you?” Jorick sneered. “I can read your mind, and I see your plan. You think that you can tell him you were an unwilling pawn and he’ll excuse you? He’ll kill you.”

  “I don’t think so. Not if I bring him both Arowenia and Katelina.”

  The words barely left his mouth when Jorick slammed him to the floor, one fist tangled in his hair, and the other holding him down. “If I were you, Michael, I’d worry more about what I’m going to do to you.”

  Katelina woke, her heart pounding, and a sick feeling wrapped around her insides. Her own dreams were horrible enough, why did she have to experience Jorick’s, too?

  Darkness pressed around her and, as horrible as it was, it was better than what she’d just seen. Jorick’s memory was better than hers, if memory it was, and the images were too clear and too vivid. Patrick, his body not even cold, and his brother snarling threats. How much of that was real, and how much just a trick of sleep?

  Jorick stirred beneath her. She couldn’t see him open his eyes, though she knew that he had. She waited for him to comment on the dream, or explain it, but he only asked quietly, “Sleep well?”

  If he didn’t want to talk about it, then neither did she. She’d learned there were things she didn’t need to know. “Yeah. Best sleep I’ve ever had.”

  He didn’t answer, but tried to wrap his arm around her, accidentally pulling her hair.

  “Ouch!” She jerked involuntarily and smashed her nose against his chest. “Can we get out of here?”

  “Oh, all right,” he replied impatiently. “But you might make an effort at this, you know.” He reached over her and effortlessly pushed the lid open.

  Katelina cringed at the bright candle light, but slowly her eyes adjusted. When they had, she managed to clumsily pull herself out of the casket and onto her feet, though her stiff joints complained. She glanced over to see Fabian, Jesslynn’s dark haired brother. He stood too close, and snickered loudly at her.

  Jorick climbed out of the casket in one smooth motion, looking as cheerful as ever. He stretched fluidly, then gave Fabian a nasty look and slammed the lid noisily. If it was a threat, then Fabian ignored it, and only laughed soundlessly before he walked past them to the stairs. His steps were slow so that Katelina had ample time to see his amusement.

  “Jack ass,” she muttered under her breath, as he disappeared. “I really hate him.”

  “I doubt that,” Jorick commented lightly. “Hate is a very strong word.”

  She raised her brows coolly. “You’d be surprised.” She hefted the tattered suitcase hopefully. “I don’t suppose I could go somewhere private to change?”

  He nodded. “Bring it. You can change after I feed.”

  She remembered his comment that he’d need more blood tonight and cringed. “I don’t suppose I could eat first?”

  “It makes no difference to me.” He surveyed her, amused, and then straightened the stocking hat on her head. “We don’t want your ears to freeze.” He stood back to study the effect. “Better. Come.”

  “I’m not a dog, you know. And why am I carrying this thing? Why aren’t you? You’re the man, you know.”

  “I’m glad you’ve noticed,” he replied. “And as the man, I say ‘come’.”

  She trudged up the stairs behind him, lugging the tatty suitcase, and muttering nasty things about Jorick and vampires in general. She was tired of the casket, she was tired of not having a bathroom, and she was tired of angry glares and suspicious glances; prying eyes that were always watching her and appraising her every action.

  They made their way through the house to the front door. Jorick greeted a few of the vampires they passed, and exchanged hostile glares with others. By the time the heavy front door shut behind them, Katelina was seriously contemplating spending her time in the forest making stakes. It couldn't be that hard, after all, and she did have the advantage of being awake in daylight.

  Jorick took the suitcase from her and led her to Oren’s car. It was parked where they’d left it in the snowy driveway. He opened the door and tossed the suitcase into the backseat.

  “You said I could change!” she cried as he pulled out the brown paper bag of food and rifled through it.

  “You can, when we get back.”

  “What? Out here? It’s freezing.”

  “You wanted privacy, and the car is as private as you’re likely to get. If you prefer the house it makes no difference to me.”

  “I prefer to go home.”

  “And where would ‘home’ be?” Jorick asked lightly.

  Her cheeks flushed. He knew very well she’d meant his house, so she didn’t bother to reply. Jorick only smirked and handed her
several plastic wrapped twinkies, then stuffed the bag back in the car. “Come, perhaps we can find something worth eating tonight.” He broke off at her angry look. “Fine, would you kindly come along? Is that better?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  He rolled his eyes and trudged in the direction of the woods. She followed, savagely chewing the too sweet golden cake.

  “I thought you liked those things?” Jorick asked without looking at her.

  “Yeah, I do, but not really as a meal.” She took another bite, and talked around the food, “Beats raccoon, I guess.”

  Jorick's laughter echoed through the wintery night. “Yes, I suppose it would.”

  They reached the trees and again she tried very hard to be quiet, but failed miserably. It seemed like every branch and twig leapt under her feet. Jorick tried not to look or sound impatient, but she could feel his mood.

  “I can stay here,” she offered finally as she stopped and wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.

  “No.” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed his wishful thinking. “It’s fine. I-” he stopped mid sentence, his body suddenly tense as he grabbed her arm.

  “What-” she started to ask but he cut her off with a look, his face intensely alert. She strained her ears but heard nothing.

  He brought his finger to his lips, and closed his eyes. Suddenly, her head filled with sounds she knew she couldn't hear on her own. Something was scratching, something was breathing, and there, in the center of all the chaos, was the subtle sound of crunching snow as multiple footsteps made their way through the frozen yard.

  Jorick opened his eyes and the sounds disappeared. She tried to penetrate the dark woods and catch the noises he’d just transmitted to her, but she couldn't. She looked at him again, questions in her eyes. He gave no discernible answer, only sniffed the air. Concern creased his face and he released her slowly, then turned the other direction and inhaled deeply. Real worry blossomed in his eyes. He grabbed a handful of her coat and whispered in her mind, “Stay here and don't move.”