Save the Last Vamp for Me (Discord Jones Book 3)

by Gayla Drummond

  Was my therapist still practicing? I had the feeling I’d need to look her up in the near future. Then again, I’d never fully agreed with her on the “You’re only responsible for yourself, your own actions and reactions” front. “You’re ugly when you gloat.”

  Merriven cocked his head and said a word in another language. Two more vampires appeared from the shadows gathered behind him. One was a complete stranger, but the other was tall and missing three fingers.

  The sight shoved all thoughts of socially acceptable therapy clear out of my head. “You killed my dog.”

  He glanced at Merriven, who gestured for him to respond. A wide grin cracked the vamp’s face. “And you should’ve heard it scream when I tore its belly open.” The scum sucker began hooting with laughter.

  The noise of his hilarity grated against my grief, sparking rage.

  With that rage came the urge to use the ability that scared me the most, because it was a double-edged sword: my empathic ability. It didn’t just let me find out how others were feeling. I could twist its dial and make others feel anything I wanted.

  Where this vamp was concerned, I wanted him to be as scared as my mom had been, and feel the pain Red had. I planted my hands on my fists. “How about we find out if your screams are as funny to me?”

  He glanced again at his master. Merriven crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as his minion lifted his hand to display his missing fingers. “Enough to regrow these?”

  “No. You may break a bone, if you can.”

  I tensed, mentally scrambling to make the mental connections I needed. The vamp nodded, turned his head and smiled at me. He rushed forward, making it halfway to me before my telepathic spear slammed into his brain.

  I let my retrocog memory of Henry Wilkins out of its box, and shoved it down the link with the full force of my empathic ability. My teeth gritted together as old Henry raised his gleaming straight razor. I’d gone through this memory hundreds of times, but it never seem to lose any of its power.

  It was weird, seeing the memory from my mind apparently superimposed over the now motionless vamp. To know all he saw was Henry and that straight razor as it flashed down.

  The vampire’s first scream was pitiful, but the next rose in volume, bouncing off the cavern’s walls.

  I winced, instantly regretting the choice I’d made. Horrified I’d even thought of it in the first place. What the hell was wrong with me?

  This wasn’t justice, but torture. Intending to stop, I tried to shut down both my empathic ability and the telepathic link, only to discover I couldn’t. While I wrestled to gain control of my abilities, the vampire’s screaming continued, growing in volume and pitch. The sounds of it stabbed into my brain.

  Unable to shut things down, my head pounding, and Henry Wilkins’ gleeful smile burned into my brain, I just wanted it to end.

  One way to do that. I reached for my pyrokinetic ability and blasted the vampire. He exploded into fine, white gray ash. His screams stopped. They still echoed in my ears and mind. I was on my knees, my heart thundering and stomach churning, as I stared at the mini-snowstorm of vampire ash. What had I done?

  “I’ll teach you to ignore that little voice,” Merriven said at the same instant I realized his second minion wasn’t beside him anymore.

  Jamming my hand into my purse, I twisted and let myself fall onto my back, pulling out one part of my hastily made backup plan. The boss’s wavy-bladed, demon-killing dagger glowed red as it sank into Minion Two’s heart. Logan was definitely correct about vampires being demonic, because a gritty rain of vampire ash fell on me as the dagger’s dragon-headed hilt made contact with his chest.

  “Ugh.” I rolled, spitting leftover vampire out, and came up on my hands and knees. The lights went out. Two down, one to go. The biggest, scariest one.

  Or I could call it a night, teleport my sorry butt back to Derrick’s, and let him come play Thunderdome with Merriven, while I looked for a new therapist.

  A fantastic idea, and one that I immediately acted on. Nothing happened. “Oh, come the freak on!”

  “Tsk, tsk.” The sound fluttered from the darkness. “Are you experiencing technical difficulties?”

  I stared so hard at the darkness surrounding me, little white dots appeared and began discoing all over. The sound of my breathing was magnified. Where was he? “No.”

  Merriven’s laughter proved deep and surprisingly pleasant to the ears. Pleasant enough, I began to relax.

  He wasn’t going to hurt me. He wanted to give me the world; drop it into my hand like a giant, glistening dark pearl.

  I nearly smiled before shaking my head hard enough to pop my neck. “You bastard.”

  He was inside my shield, in my head. I had no idea how he’d done it, or how long he’d been there. Forcing him out of my mind became Priority One.

  Actually doing it was problematic, because he was inside my damn head. Now that I knew he was there, I could feel him watching my thoughts. He’d been in my memories too, leaving a faint trail of slime.

  I screamed as Merriven grabbed my forearm and snapped both bones. The dagger thumped to the floor as he released me. He took a step back, and then kicked me in the ribs, driving out what little air there was in my lungs.

  Nice of him to not use full vampire power on me. I only flew about five feet before hitting the stone floor on my uninjured, but soon to be bruised, side.

  For several seconds, I couldn’t move, overwhelmed by the furious cries of my ribs and arm. They hurt so badly, I couldn’t cry or even breathe.

  Couldn’t do a damn thing, which was the perfect time for my cavalry to arrive, but nope. Crap, I forgot....

  “No one can enter this realm. I closed the portal once the tiger and your mother left us.”

  I could’ve done without knowing that, and decided it was way after Get-the-Hell-Out-o’clock. Who needed to teleport if they had an elf hound on call? All I had to do was think....uh, what was my hound’s name again?

  “I’m afraid you won’t be leaving anytime soon. You definitely won’t be leaving as a warm-blooded human.” The lights returned, and I blinked, because Merriven was standing right over me. His feet were planted on either side of my hips. I hadn’t heard or felt him move. “Once you’ve learned your place, you’ll begin your new existence in truth, as my little princess.”

  My voice was little more than a rasping wheeze. “So much wrong with that sentence.”

  “I thought every good little girl loved her daddy, and wanted to be his princess.” Merriven shrugged. “Very well, I think I’ll have Benjamin Thomas Jones brought in to be your first meal.”

  From the corner of my eye, I spotted the dagger, but didn’t know how to reach it without him spying on my thoughts. The pain from my ribs and arm had died down a steady, throbbing wail, and I really didn’t want to move. Being able to breathe was nice, though my breaths were shallow sips of air.

  “I can take your pain away, or I can make it far worse.” Merriven lowered himself to his knees, not touching me though he straddled my waist. Too injured to physically fight him off, I closed my eyes and grabbed hold of his presence in my mind.

  It felt like cold snot. “Eww.”

  “Now that you have me, what do you plan to do?” Merriven’s breath was cold too, brushing across my lips. Oh yuck, was he planning to kiss me? My disgust rose to heights I hadn’t known were attainable, and when Merriven laughed at my reaction, I took advantage of his distraction to throw him off and away with my telekinesis.

  He recovered too quickly, again blocking me from teleporting, and just as quickly, from setting him on fire. Well, now I knew for sure: Vampires did have way more and better control over their psychic abilities than I did.

  Merriven totally Vadered me, using telekinesis to wrap an invisible hand around my throat and lift me to my feet. “I’ve grown weary of this. Come to me. It’s time to meet your destiny.”

  I wasn’t given a choice, the invisible hand growing, sliding down
to grip my torso, and dragging me toward him. My arm felt as though two razors were sword-fighting inside it, and the stabbing pain in my side made it clear some of my ribs were broken. Unable to suck in enough air to scream, I squeaked like a rat caught on a glue trap. Was still squeaking when Merriven spun me around and grabbed a handful of my hair to wrench my head back. He sank his fangs into my neck and all I did was manage a louder squeak. He drank like a thirsty dog slurping down water on a hot day.

  They say first-hand experience is usually better, but learning that it really doesn’t take all that long for a vampire to drain a human’s blood wasn’t all that awesome. My vision darkened, and my mind grew fuzzy. I watched shadows gather on the cavern’s ceiling, and then one crawling down the cavern’s wall.

  Oh, wait, that wasn’t a shadow.

  The flapping of wings sounded like thunder. Merriven snarled, ripping his teeth free of my neck, and was instantly too busy to do things like keep his TK hold on me, or maintain the telepathic link between us. I fell onto my side, feeling blood steadily escaping the wound in my neck, and for some reason, my thinking cleared enough to make a decision. I mentally shouted “Don’t kill him! Take him to Lord Derrick.”

  The cavern abruptly went silent. The lights went out. I lay there, wondering if there was anything else I was supposed to do.

  Call your hound.

  What? Who...Sal?

  Call your hound. His name is....

  “Leglin,” I murmured before losing consciousness.

  Twenty-one

  “Would you hurry it up?”

  Someone drove a knife into my arm. I shrieked, a high thin noise, and opened my eyes to be blinded by light.

  “We’re losing her.”

  “Do something.” I knew that voice. Logan was there. I wanted to tell him that I was tired, and ask him to make whoever was poking at my neck to stop, but I couldn’t see him.

  “I am, you lump of fur. Clear.”

  Fire blazed through me, jolting my entire body. The light disappeared, but not for long.

  Sal glimmered into existence. “Ooh, bet that hurt.”

  “Yeah.” My jaws ached. So did my throat. “What was it?”

  The wrinkle-faced god shrugged, and the tropical garden appeared around us. “One of those lightning boxes they use to zap hearts.”

  “Oh.” I sank down onto a stone bench. “Crap, am I dead again?”

  Sal chuckled. “No, you’re experiencing a little electrical failure, and you seem to have misplaced quite a lot of blood.”

  Discord.

  I looked around. “Who was that?”

  “Someone who cares for you.” He grinned. “By the way, good job, kiddo.”

  “You helped me.”

  He gave a slight nod, just a dip of his chin. “You were going foggy. Needed a nudge.”

  “Thanks.” I took a moment to rummage around in my mind. No Merriven. “How did that bastard get into my head?”

  “Your shield sucks.”

  Chin lowered, I glared at him. “That was helpful.”

  Sal’s grin widened. “If you want to protect yourself from psychic sneak attacks, one wall isn’t going to cut it. You need to build a series of walls. Actually, I recommend a maze, scattered with alarms and traps.”

  I slumped. “That sounds complicated.”

  “Yes, and complicated is exactly what will save your bacon.” Sal sniffed, his upper lip curling. “Use your imagination, and spend time every day building it. Hide the map in the center, and create a guardian to defend it.”

  Discord.

  “Who is that?”

  Sal looked up at the sky. “Kids these days. You try to impart life-saving information, and they’re distracted by text messages.”

  “Sorry. A maze, got it. Thank you.”

  His dark gaze returned to my face. “Good. Like I said, be creative with it. It’s your mind, you can do anything in there you want. If you work at it every day, it’ll eventually become real.”

  “Now you’re confusing....”

  Discord.

  “Me.” Geeze, who was that? Who was working on me while Sal and I had our little tête-à-tête? “How can something I imagine be real?”

  “Mentally real, Discordia. It’ll be real to you and anyone who tries climbing into your noggin. You’ll always be shielded. You’ll never have to rebuild it again, but,” he lifted his forefinger. “A bit of redecorating from time to time wouldn’t be amiss.”

  “Okay.” I liked the parts about never being unshielded or having to rebuild my shield. “Anything else, or can I go now? I need to check on my mom.”

  Sal’s face screwed up, his wrinkles tripping over each other. “The elf is tending your injuries, but you’ll be weak for a while. Don’t try using your abilities for a couple of weeks. They need time to recover too. If you do, you’ll damage yourself.”

  “Why? I’ve never had....”

  “Nearly every drop of blood drained and a master vamp renting space in your head? No, you haven’t. Don’t argue with your elder.” He paused. “Use the time to remember you’re not invincible. Let every ache and stab of pain remind you that you’re human.”

  “Boy, that sounds like fun.”

  He scowled. “It’s a lesson. Learn it.”

  “Yes, sir.” I felt restless, and the voice rustled through the leaves, murmuring my name again: Discord.

  “A little respect from my favorite psychic. It’s a red letter day.” Sal’s scowl melted when he chuckled.

  Favorite psychic. Why did that phrase drip ice water into my veins? Maybe because it meant I wasn’t the only psychic he had an interest in, and why would a god be lurking around, giving psychics nudges and advice?

  No good reason came to mind. To be honest, no bad ones did either. Didn’t lay my sudden worry to rest though.

  Discord.

  I stood. “I have to go.”

  “Yes, you do. I’ll be in touch, kiddo.” Sal waved his hand and everything went dark.

  “Urgh.” I clawed at my mouth, choking on whatever filled my throat. My frantic movements caused dull pain and brought people running.

  Alleryn’s face swung into view and he grabbed my wrist. “Stop that. You can breathe, you little twit. It’s called a breathing tube for a reason. I’ll remove it if you’ll be still.”

  I narrowed my eyes, resorting to gagging to get him to let go and pull the damn thing out. Which he did. It proved to be a less-than-pleasant experience. My throat burned as I gulped in air. “Mom?”

  Logan appeared on the other side of the bed, and touched my shoulder. “She’s safe. Danielle brought her to Derrick’s. Sunny’s asleep in the next room.”

  Thank God. My voice sounded as though someone had sanded my vocal cords. “Merriven?”

  “Not dead yet, for some reason, but he’s in custody. Derrick’s custody.”

  She’d listened. Good, even if I didn’t understand the impulse that had me yell at her not to kill him. I’d figure it out later. There were more important questions. “Where?”

  Logan frowned. “Merriven?”

  “No.” Gah, this conversation was going to take forever, with the ban on using my abilities. Telepathy would’ve been easier.

  “Oh. This is Alleryn’s clinic in the sidhe. We brought you here.”

  “We?”

  Logan nodded. “When Danielle came in with Sunny, and they told us where you were, I knew if things went bad, you’d call for Leglin. I asked him to take me with him.”

  “Thanks.”

  He smiled. “Just returning the favor.”

  A broken arm, three cracked ribs, the hole in my neck, and nearly successful exsanguination were my total injuries.

  I slept all day Saturday, and through the night, waking Sunday morning to an obscenely cheerful Alleryn walking in with a tray and IV bags. “Good morning. How are we feeling today?”

  “Don’t know about you, but I’m hungry, my ribs are stabbing me, and my arm hurts. This itches.” I pointed a
t the bandage on my neck. “And I want a bath.”

  “Eat your breakfast.” Alleryn deposited the tray on the rolling table and pushed the table in place over the bed. He began changing the IV bags, one of which was blood.

  “Where does an elf get a supply of blood from for his private clinic?”

  “A pushy, growly bodyguard.” He checked the lines. “Just finished drawing it. He’s eating. You should be too.”

  I lifted the cover from the plate. Cheesy quiche, bacon, and paper-thin slices of honeydew melon rolled into bite size pieces. “Yum. How’s my mom?”

  “Better than you are. She didn’t break anything.” The elf pulled a chair over to my bedside and sat. “Dehydration, hadn’t been fed during her captivity, bruising and abrasions from being restrained. She’s exhausted.”

  Fork halfway to my lips, I looked at him. “Dehydration?”

  “Not from being fed on. She wasn’t bitten. They didn’t give her enough water.” He pointed at my breakfast. “She’s remarkably unharmed, physically, considering the circumstances.”

  I took my waiting bite. The quiche was wonderful, a blast of sharp cheese with hints of spinach and herbs. “Mentally?”

  Alleryn smiled. “It was a traumatic experience, but she’s in good spirits. Sunny is a resilient woman.”

  “That’s awesome.” Best news I’d had in a few days. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “How much do I owe you?”

  Alleryn’s expression turned solemn. “That’s a dangerous question to ask an elf.”

  “But a necessary one.”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “So?” I prompted, steeling myself for the answer.

  “I think the highest of prices: trust and friendship.”

  I ate a few bites, trying to think my way through that. “Why those?”

  “You are one of a small number who tread the line between humanity and supernaturals, as we’ve been collectively labeled. You’re one of the few of those in this city with true power.” A faint smile appeared on his face. “You also possess a good heart. I would rather be counted as a trusted friend to you than an annoyance or enemy.”