by Leanna Ellis
“Come with me.” His voice took on a more commanding tone. “Now.”
She felt the tension in his hand, the way it tightened possessively on hers, and she resisted, tired to pull out of his grasp. “What about Josef? He’s hurt. I helped you when you were injured, now we must help him.”
His grip tightened, pinching down on her fingers, clamping down hard on her hand. Pain shot up her arm. There was no escape.
She glanced over her shoulder; there was no one there to help her. For the first time, she realized he might not let her go. Ever.
“Josef is here to help you.” He tucked her hand against his chest and pulled her closer. “The change is not so painful. I will be gentle and help you through it. Do you trust me, Hannah?”
But it was not Jacob she saw anymore. It was Akiva. A bloodsucker, as Roc called him. A vampire. A killer. The evidence was in the blood smeared across his cheek and spotting the collar of his shirt.
A trembling rocked through her, unforgiveable and unrelenting. Roc had been right. She had been naïve. And Levi…How could she ever pit brother against brother? And yet, had she already? She would die if harm came to Levi, or anyone else, because of her poor decisions. She had opened herself to all of this, to Akiva’s…and even Jacob’s influence. It was her fault. And she would pay the price, even if it was with her life.
Alone and now grateful for that, she would have to end it herself, or at least put a wall between brothers so that Levi would never be harmed.
“W-why,” she asked, “did you lie to me?”
His features remained unchanged, and yet there was a subtle shift, a tightening about the eyes and mouth. “About what?”
“About what happened the day I almost drowned.”
He laughed. “What did Levi tell you? Some fabrication?”
Her brow furrowed. “Levi was the only one who was there. Wasn’t he?”
Akiva’s mouth twisted. “Hannah, you’re going to believe Levi? How do you know that what Levi told you is the truth?”
“He never lied to me.”
“Levi told you I was dead.”
A sudden rush of tears filled her eyes, and the bottled emotions from so long ago bubbled up inside of her, tightening her throat. “You promised…before you left for New Orleans that nothing would change between us. But it did.” Her voice cracked, then grew stronger. “You changed. Even before all of this. I knew it then. There was something different about you.”
He smiled. “It’s that difference you always loved. And you can love the new change too.”
She shook her head, trying to deny the truth of his words, but she couldn’t escape it. She’d loved Jacob because he wasn’t like all the other boys. He wasn’t plain. And yet, it was the solidity of plainness that drew her to Levi now, made her love him, and want to be with him forever. “It was a darkness that I didn’t understand at the time. But I see it now. I see this darkness in you.”
His top lip flirted with a sneer. “So you have chosen Levi?”
She met his gaze with her own challenge. “You said you found me in the creek. Alone. You pulled me from the water. You breathed life back into me. Yet, I remember you holding me, that your clothes were dry. Why? Because you lied. Again.”
His face twisted and knotted into something as solid and hard as anger. Suddenly she was flying back through the air, shoved backward by Akiva with only a second to feel the rush of air beneath her before she slammed into a gravestone and darkness caught her in its arms.
Chapter Sixty-seven
The pebble hit the window squarely and pinged off of it, falling back and crashing into the dogwood bush. Leaves crunched, tracking the pebble’s fall until it lay silent in the dirt. Levi waited, staring up at the window. The green shade didn’t lift or move. He counted slowly to ten, then bent, picked up another pebble off the ground, and aimed again. This time the collision of rock and glass sounded louder. That should do it. That should wake Hannah. Or the dead.
He had to speak to her. He had to convince her of Roc’s plan. She had to see that it was the only way for any peace or security.
After another count of ten, he picked up another pebble, but this time he caught movement at the upstairs window. The shade rippled as the corner pulled upward. Only a black triangle came into view. It was too dark to see Hannah but she must have seen him. He tossed the pebble and caught it against his palm. She would come to the back door now and meet him.
Tossing the pebble into the bushes, he walked up the back steps and waited. The minutes seemed to pass very slowly. Very slowly indeed. He paced a few steps along the porch, turned and retraced his steps.
Then the back door squeaked and the door opened. Levi whirled around but Hannah wasn’t the one standing in the doorway. It was Katie. The young girl was wearing her nightclothes and a sleepy expression. Her long hair had been hastily pulled up and covered by her kapp. “Levi Fisher! What are you doing here? I thought—”
“Katie, go wake Hannah. I must speak to her.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I thought she was already with you. She left a while ago.”
“She left?” His heart missed a beat. “Where’d she go?”
“Now how should I know that?”
Panic sliced through whatever resolve Levi had.
Katie stepped out onto the porch, curling her bare toes under and shivering. “What’s wrong, Levi?”
“Nothing. Go on back to bed. I’ll find Hannah and make sure she gets home safely.”
If it was the last thing he ever did.
Chapter Sixty-eight
Akiva stood over Hannah. She was not dead, yet she wasn’t awake either. He fisted his hands in a poor attempt to curtail his anger. He hadn’t meant to harm her. And yet, he’d had enough. “You are not leaving me. I cannot…will not live without you.”
He whirled away from her. It was time for this foolishness to end. Enough! His patience snapped like a winter twig. She would adjust to her new life the way he had.
When she awoke, he would make the transition. But she needed to be awake. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the half-dead Amish man. Camille was beside him, her mouth wet from sampling Josef’s blood.
“Get away from him,” Akiva growled at her. “I don’t want him dead yet.”
“There is still plenty. For you. For her.” Camille licked her lips suggestively, her gaze shifting toward Hannah’s face. “Having trouble with your lover, Akiva?” Her Caribbean accent, melodic and antiquated, was thick with memories of her ancestors and their rituals.
Akiva had watched her lure in unsuspecting victims and felt the tug of her allure himself. In ancient times, stories of old, the siren song of mermaids attempted to distract men from their missions, and Camille’s soothing voice attempted to distract him now.
“Nothing I cannot handle.”
“Oh, but I know how to handle the reluctant ones. You were once reluctant if you remember. I could help you with her.” She leapt forward and landed on the ground so softly no animal could have heard it. She had the stealth of a seasoned predator. “If you want, I could hold her for you. Tilt her head just so. Of course, I would not dare interfere with your—”
“I don’t need your help.” He knelt and set Hannah on the ground, her body curling instinctively inward from the cold, but still her features were relaxed. With the tip of his finger, he brushed a loose hair from her forehead. Having Camille here was not in his plan and aggravation shifted inside him because he didn’t know how to make her leave.
“You are more than capable.” Camille brushed her hair off her shoulder, revealing her sleek neck. “I have watched you, Akiva.” Her laughter had a seductive lilt. “You have grown strong in your new life. You have not languished and suffered as some do. You are more than capable of so many things.” Her gaze dipped low. “But the giving of life…well, this is a
fragile matter, no?”
“You should know about that.”
Her smile spread as her fingers traced her own neck and rested along her plunging neckline, toying with the voodoo charm she always wore. “Do you simply want nourishment? Or to transform her?”
His gaze shifted toward Hannah’s softly parted lips, then he jerked his focus back to Camille. Trust, if it existed between them, was fragile at best. “It is none of your business.”
“Oh, but it is, ma cherie. You have spent so much of your time running, hiding, staying off by yourself, that you have not learned there are rules.” She moved a step closer, her body like liquid silver. “Do you think I alone changed you? I had to ask permission.”
“Of whom?”
“Of the leaders.” She walked over to a grave marker and sat on it, crossing her legs seductively. “You come from a life of rules, do you not? The Amish have rules. They are under a law. What is it called?”
“The Ordnung.”
“Yes, precisely. Rules must be followed, no? We chose you, Akiva. You must—”
“I don’t want any part of your group.”
“You’ve always been an outsider, a rebel, haven’t you?” She clasped her hands together. She wore rings on almost every finger. “And what has it done for you? You are alone still. Isolated. No wonder you are seeking a mate of your own choosing. But there are many of us to choose from. Many.” She stroked her own hand. “If you are not happy—”
“I know what I want, whom I want.”
He carefully angled his body between Hannah and Camille, not giving the other vampire an opportunity.
“There are consequences for going outside of the law,” she warned.
“There is no law. We make our own rules.”
Camille shook her head, causing her long hair to dance about her shoulders. “Do you think we can have new vampires running around all over the place? There would soon be no humans left. How would we survive then? These things must be regulated. It is the only way.” Slowly, she stood and moved toward him. She drew a finger along his shoulder. “But do not despair. I can take care of this problem for you.” She dipped her chin low, and her dark eyes grew large. “Is this what you wish, Akiva?”
“I don’t know!” His voice boomed, carrying the force of his frustration and regret. He’d lost his temper with Hannah, and he’d hurt her. He regretted his reaction but he also wouldn’t be thwarted; he wouldn’t lose her. Not again. But now, she’d never choose him. Not if she had the choice. But if he changed her, then she would come to understand and eventually forgive him. But doubts clawed at him. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Of course not.” Camille sidled up to him. “Let me help you. It is my job as your guardian.”
“Why didn’t I know about any rule or a governing body?”
“You never asked. You have hidden yourself from us. If you had quit running, if you had become a part of us, you would have been trained properly.”
“By you?” His words snaked outward with a sneer.
“Yes, of course.” She looped an arm around his neck, toyed with the hair at his nape. “I will help you the way I have always helped you.”
Chapter Sixty-nine
Savage sounds awakened Hannah, like a predator killing a defenseless animal. She pried her eyes open, blinked against the darkness. Her vision was blurred and she tried to focus on a blade of dried grass, her hand. Slowly the images came into focus. But her head throbbed. She dared not raise her head. She was slumped over, grass and dirt pressed into her cheek. The sounds penetrated her confusion and she glanced beyond her own hand.
Only a few feet away, she saw a woman with long black hair straddling Josef’s waist, her mouth at his neck. Josef was defenseless, lying on his back, his arms splayed outward as if he had no strength or will to defend himself. Maybe he was already dead. Hannah could hear the crunching of bone, the chomping of teeth, ripping of flesh.
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut, so tight the muscles twitched with fatigue, and she tried to block the sounds. The top of her head rested against something hard and rough, and peering outward through barely slit eyelids, she guessed it was the edge of a grave marker.
Without moving, she listened and squinted through eyelashes until she located Akiva who stood nearby, not watching but not flinching at the grotesque sounds. He looked bored, his gaze scanning the cemetery, his features placid, his stance relaxed. Hannah remained still, pretending to be dead…or something similar, praying she wasn’t going to be next.
Rising up from Josef, Camille gave a bloody smile. “Want more for yourself, Akiva?”
“Save the rest. Do you have a vessel?”
“In my bag.”
Akiva walked a few steps over to a leather bag, tossed back the flap, and dug inside until he pulled out a round flat object. With a flick of his wrist, a cup emerged, and he handed it to Camille.
“Would you like me to do the honor?”
“She’s mine. I will take care of Hannah.” Then he turned in her direction, closing the steps without seeming to even take a step.
She snapped her eyes closed and held her breath, listening to his footsteps move toward her. Her heart felt like it would burst through her chest and take off running. But she waited, remembering once watching a rabbit, still and quiet, its eyes blinking as she approached, and just as she got close, it bolted.
That was her plan now. And so she waited, keeping her eyes closed, her body as relaxed as possible.
Akiva knelt beside her. He was quiet. If he could see her heart, which bounded inside her chest like a frightened rabbit on the run, he would know the truth, but she prayed he could not. She prayed, Lord, help me. Help me.
“Is she awake yet?” the woman’s voice came to her.
Then a warm hand touched her arm and something caressed her face in such a loving, gentle way she began to shake. “Hannah?”
She jerked upright, shoved Akiva backwards, and scrambled to her feet. Her vision wavered, the world around her tilted. But she ran, stumbling, scuttling across the frozen ground. It felt as if she ran through thick mud, her legs stiff, her feet dragging. She tossed a look over her shoulder, but Akiva was not there. Camille stood over Josef. Hannah’s stride stretched longer until she plowed right into a solid wall: Akiva’s chest.
“Let me go!” She backed away.
But his hand clamped on her arms. “Not this time, Hannah.”
She let her legs collapse under her, tried to fall out of his grasp, but he held her steady. “No! This isn’t what I want. You said—”
“It’s no longer your choice.” With one hand he held her in place as if his hand was an iron band. With his other, he cupped her face in a gentling, soothing caress, following the curve down toward her neck. “Why should your choice affect me, decide my fate? So I will make the choice for you, the way it was made for me. You will understand then.”
She bucked, but his hand on her throat tightened. She felt her muscles contract, and her bones trembled. She stilled, afraid to move.
Then the woman was there, standing beside her, stroking her kapp, her shoulders, her back. It was the woman with the long black hair, who had been to the bakery and the orchestra. “Easy, love. Be still for Camille now. Akiva has been practicing. He will not go too far. He will not let his hunger get out of control. He will stop before it is too late.”
Akiva glared at her, then softened his features as he focused again on Hannah. “Easy now, breathe easy. I will not hurt you. And soon it will be over. You will only feel a bit of discomfort. I will be gentle and go easy. I must draw out your blood. Then when I tell you to drink, you must—”
“No!” she spat the word in his face. “No.”
“Hannah, you can make this easy or difficult. Please—”
“I reckon,” a male voice came out of the dark, “she chooses to make
it more difficult.”
“Levi!” Hannah recognized his voice. Her gaze went wild searching and straining until settling on him.
He was standing just inside the fence line of the cemetery, standing there bold and confident and unafraid.
Her heart tripped over itself in relief. He’d come for her. But then fear raised its ugly head. How could Levi fight Akiva and win?
Something flapped in the corner of her eye, and Hannah turned to see Roc wrapping a leather strap tight around his fist, the other end secured around Camille’s wrist. Camille hissed and lunged at Roc, but as he stepped out of her reach another strap looped over her head and caught about her slim throat. Levi held that end, and the two men pulled the straps taut, trapping Camille between them. Her beautiful face contorted, transformed, as she snarled and hissed, tugging and wrenching her arm sideways to get loose, but the tautness of the strap restrained her. Roc moved in a slow circle, guiding Camille away from Hannah, but his gaze, along with a handgun, remained aimed at Akiva. “Let go of her.”
But Akiva’s arm looped over Hannah’s head, and he spun her around, pulled her back against his torso, his arm braced across her chest. She stared at Levi and Roc. She felt calmer than she ever would have imagined. She knew what she had to do. And she spoke directly to Levi, hoping he could see what was in her heart.
“You must go, Levi. It is too late for me. I have made my choice.” She turned toward Akiva and wrapped her arms around his neck.
But she heard Levi holler, “No. I’m not leaving you, Hannah. He won’t take you.”
Looking deeply into Akiva’s dark eyes, she whispered, “Let Levi live, and I will go with you. I will do anything you ask. Just please…” Her voice broke. “Let him live.”
The warmth that she had once seen in the depths of Akiva’s eyes was now cold and barren of emotion. He sneered. “That’s all it took then? What if I no longer want you?”
“You can’t lie to yourself, Jacob. This is what you came for. And I will be yours for eternity.”