by Elle Jasper
“Eli?” I said warily, and when he didn’t move, I repeated myself, except stronger this time. “Eli!” No other words would come out of my mouth. I was scared. And I could tell he struggled for control.
He quickly turned, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and left so fast my eyes couldn’t follow. I wasn’t in total shock. Now that my mind and body had started to recover from the mind-blowing sex I’d just shared with Eli, I recalled how many times he’d said how he wasn’t sure his control could last. It had barely lasted. What did shock me, though, was that he didn’t just leave my room. He left my apartment. Leaving me totally alone—as in wide-open prey for the Arcos brothers and their growing hoodie cult.
As I slipped beneath the sheets, I reached over, switched the ceiling fan on low, and closed my eyes, letting my mind wander. I was a big girl, and I’d been through a hell of a lot in twenty-five years. I’d been used in the very worst of ways; rejection and abandonment weren’t unfamiliar to me. I’d be a liar if I said it hadn’t stung to watch Eli walk out, but I understood. I guess I wasn’t like other girls in that sense. Being a crybaby just wasn’t in my repertoire. I’d learned over the years not to be greedy; take what little bits of life’s pleasures you could, while you could—you might not get another offer.
I turned onto my side and stretched, pulling one of the spare down pillows to my middle and cradling it against my bare body. Before slumber dragged me under, I replayed the past hour of my life with Eli, and I knew then that another man would never be able to satisfy me like he had. The way I’d responded to his body, his mouth, his touch . . . no one could ever live up to that. Never. I knew what I spoke of, if you know what I mean. I wasn’t sure whether I should be pissed, or grateful for the experience. Part of me knew—felt it in my gut—that something much deeper than wild, nasty sex had occurred with Eli Dupré, but it’d do no good to dwell on it now, and it may very well have been solely on my part. He’d almost transformed, almost lost control. I mean, seriously—he’d lived for nearly two hundred years. He’d had plenty of experiences, and I’m positive I wouldn’t be the last orgasm he’d ever experience. For a hot minute, it was a nice thought. But like I said—I wasn’t stupid. Rough around the edges maybe, definitely a little perverted at times, but never stupid. I was a survivor. I’d damn well survive this.
Finally, I drifted off to sleep. I knew, even though Eli had left my apartment, that he was still close by. I knew one night of hot, rampant sex certainly wasn’t a marriage proposal. Not that I wanted one. But if I knew Eli at all, I did know he wouldn’t leave me unprotected. He was out there, somewhere. I knew it. Watching. Just like he had been when I was oblivious to the fact that vampires existed.
Sometime during the early-morning hours, before dawn, I awoke with fear choking me—literally. I was coughing as though I’d been strangled; my heart slammed hard against my ribs, and adrenaline surged through my veins. I sat up and tried to catch my breath, and the bare threads of a nightmare rushed back. Sweat plastered my bangs to my face, and I pushed them behind my ears and rubbed my eyes, trying to remember.
In the dream, I couldn’t tell where I was; long shadows blocked street names and building signs, but it was desolate—almost postapocalyptic. Everything was gray, colorless—except me. My black hair with red-and-fuchsia highlights, and white skin stuck out like a sore thumb, and dressed in nothing but a short leather skirt, tall leather boots, and a vest, I ran, fast, down a cracked, broken sidewalk. What few cars sat parked along the sidewalk were as abandoned and derelict as the buildings. Where I hurried to, I didn’t know, but I knew something chased me. Maybe more than one. They slinked through the shadows overhead, on the rooftops. I glanced behind me, only for a second; when I turned back around, he was there. Young, virile, flawlessly beautiful, and very, very powerful; his very nearness caused me to burn for him. Seductively, he licked his lips, and just that fast I envisioned his mouth and tongue between my legs, erotically caressing until I fell to my knees as spasms of orgasm wracked my body. I didn’t want it—I couldn’t help but take it. It infuriated me, his seduction, and I knew then that he would haunt me always, and never cease his pursuit of me. He had power over me. He wasn’t Eli. . . .
I sat up with a start. Somehow, I’d fallen asleep again, even after remembering that most vivid of dreams. It left me feeling dirty; it left me with heavy desire. Early dawn was just beginning to break, and as I slipped from the bed, I noticed the French doors were wide-open. They were closed before. . . .
Crossing the room, I closed the doors and latched them, then jumped in the shower. As the hot water ran down my body, I felt drained; my energy had dissipated. Once I finished, I quickly dressed in board shorts and a tank top and dried my hair, and just as I walked into the living room, I pulled up short. Sprawled across the sofa watching TV was Phin Dupré, Chaz’s head resting in his lap. Both glanced up as I walked into the room, and Phin regarded me with eyes so much like Eli’s.
“I guess you’re the new babysitter, huh?” I asked, although I already knew the answer. I met Phin’s gaze as I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, then glanced at the TV. I looked at Phin and lifted a brow. “The Lost Boys?” I asked, noting the eighties cult vampire movie as it played across my flat screen.
Phin gave a cocky smile. “Freaking awesome movie,” he said. “Classic.”
I shook my head and grinned, and it struck me as funny that a vampire would dig a cult vampire movie. “Yeah, it is.” I wanted to ask where Eli was, but I didn’t. I kept it to myself and figured that whatever was going to happen would happen. Like I said before—I wasn’t the crying-over-spilled-milk type of girl.
“So yeah, I’m the new babysitter,” he said, then scrubbed Chaz between the ears and stood. I glared at my dog, whose only response to me was a little hiniesca-thumping against the sofa cushion.
“What’d you do, brainwash my dog?” I asked, scowling at Chaz.
“What? Come on, dogs love me,” Phin said, and moved toward me. He cocked his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’d you do to piss off Eli?” Before I could answer, realization crossed his features. “Ah—never mind.” He shook his head and mumbled something in French that sounded something like sack ray blue, rubbed his jaw, and regarded me even more closely. He shook his head again. “Damn.”
“Look,” I said, and turned directly to Eli’s brother. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I have to have a game plan to get my brother back. If it’s changed from before, just tell me—”
“It hasn’t,” Phin said. “Not exactly.”
I slid my flip-flops on. “What does that mean?”
“My father and Preacher agreed to your training,” he said, “at Eli’s urging. Mainly for safety purposes.”
As I let that congeal in my brain, I realized that was what I’d wanted all along, and Eli had known it. “Great. Vampires training me to kill vampires. When do we start?”
He chuckled. “Today. Tonight we’ll run the streets a little, and tomorrow night we’ll hit the Panic Room along with a few others, if you’re up to it. This time, you’re hangin’ with Luc and me.”
“Sounds good to me,” I answered, although the void Eli had left suddenly seemed larger. I stood there, contemplating, then walked to the door. “Come on, Chaz—”
“I already walked him.”
I stopped and did not look back. “My control over my life has fizzled into nothingness,” I said. “I can’t even walk my freaking dog anymore.” I walked to the door and let myself out, Phin directly on my heels.
“Sorry,” he said as we made our way to Preacher’s.
“Not your fault,” I said, although I wanted it to be someone’s fault.
As we crossed the cobbles to Da Plat Eye, Phin leaned close. “So, Riley,” he began casually. “What’s the story on your friend Nyx?” He chuckled. “She’s pretty hot.”
I snapped a glare at him. “Don’t even think it, porcupine.”
Phin rubbed his close-cut hair a
nd grinned. “I’m just sayin’.”
After breakfast—I had to sit through forty-five minutes of a wicked stink eye from Preacher man—we left. I needed some air, so I took Chaz for a walk down the riverfront and contemplated my next moves. Without Eli was what I thought, and was glad as hell he wasn’t around to listen in.
The day was overcast, with a residue of last night’s rain clinging to the air, as I walked by the river, Chaz at my side. The bricks were wet and dark from rain, and not even the slightest breeze shifted the thick, muggy air. The familiar cooked-sugar-praline scent from River Street Sweets wafted by, but I discovered that even that simple pleasure didn’t sit well with me. A few people were out and about, tourists taking pictures of the Savannah River Queen—an old-time riverboat—and the storefronts. Most businesses were closed on Sundays; the others opened up later in the day, so only a few people were out and about, which was fine with me. I was in a foul mood, and I didn’t feel like dealing with anyone—not even a total stranger.
My thoughts returned to earlier, at Preacher’s, where Phin had gone over very little of what I’d be learning while in training. I already knew how to fight; that was a plus. He said I’d learn the rest from his papa at the House of Dupré. Preacher had looked hard at me, then stated that two of his boys would remain at the house with me at all times. Seemed kind of silly; if a house of vampires decided to take me—one little ol’ mortal—down, I’m pretty sure they could do it, and no one would be able to stop them. It was about trust. Like I’d trusted Eli last night, I’d trust the Duprés now. Really—we had no choice. I had no choice. My life for Seth’s? Hell yes, in a second.
Returning home, I gave Nyx a quick call; then, changing into a pair of black Lycra yoga pants, a white ribbed tank, and a pair of black Adidas workout shoes, I tightened my ponytail, left my apartment with Phin, and headed to the House of Dupré. A mortal with an extremely rare blood type strolling directly into a house of vampires. Yeah. I’d lost my freaking mind. Again.
Part 8
MARTYR
The moment I stepped foot through the back entrance of the House of Dupré, I knew Eli wasn’t there. Somehow, in all of the four-thousand-plus square feet of the historic landmark, I could sense he was gone. I tried not to let his absence bother me, but it did.
Gilles, Elise, Luc, and Josie were in the main sitting room when Phin and I walked in. I immediately noticed Jack and Tuba—two of Preacher’s great-nephews—standing near the back. Both were big guys, and they both carried several familiar pouches attached to their belts. I would bet at least one of them contained graveyard dust. I gave them a nod and greeted the Duprés.
“Welcome again, chère,” Gilles said. He looked just as aristocratic as he had the previous time, and it was weird. He seemed so genuine. A smile touched his lips, and I wished like hell I could command my thoughts instead of rambling on. He was just as bad as Eli about reading my mind.
“I would speak with you alone, if I might?” Gilles asked.
“Sure,” I said, and when he directed me to the hallway, I followed—and so did Jack and Tuba. I turned to them both and held up a hand. “Guys, seriously.”
Neither looked happy, but they stopped at the door.
“You are quite a brave young lady, Riley Poe,” Gilles said in the foyer. “My eldest son was right about you after all.”
That got my attention, but I tamped my reaction down. Way down. “Oh? And why is that?”
Gilles gave a soft, all-knowing laugh. “My dear, you do not have to hide anything from me.” He rubbed his chin and regarded me. “Not that you could. Still,” he said smiling. “I applaud your attempt.” He paced before me, his footfall tapping the parquet flooring of the foyer. “He confessed to me his actions last night.”
It takes a lot to mortify me these days. Like I’ve said—I’d experienced a million indecencies and humilities in my youth, and I thought all modesty had flown out the window. But when Gilles Dupré told me his son had confessed his actions with me? Eesh! “I hope he didn’t tell you everything,” I said.
Gilles’ blue eyes sparkled. “His mind is just as easy for me to read as yours, chère.” He inclined his head. “He’s at the isle with your dark fellows. He felt he needed a . . . rejuvenation, I suppose you would say.”
I stared incredulously. “You mean, he needed some extra hoodoo herbs in his blood?”
“Oui. And if I may be frank with you?” Gilles asked politely.
I gave a short laugh. “Of course,” I replied, as if he could be any more frank.
“Eligius nearly took your life last night, Riley Poe. He exerted more control than you could possibly comprehend by mating with you and . . . leaving you alive. That’s why he left, and why Phin is in his stead.” He cocked his head and seemed to study me, beyond my eyes and deep into my soul. “Eligius cares for you. And I know you care for him.” He moved closer and stroked my cheek with a long finger. “But when a vampire cares for another, it is . . . different. Deeper. And ’twill end badly, chère,” he said quietly, with remorse in his eyes. “Between our kind and mortals, it always does.” With that, he turned and left me alone in the foyer.
I forced myself to swallow past the hard lump in my throat, and I really didn’t know what to do next. I supposed Gilles was right. How could anything have ever worked out between Eli and me? It was the age-old reason found in every vampire romance novel, every vampire movie: The vampire would never age, and the mortal woman would grow old and die. Same old, same old. It was so cliché, but so freaking true.
“Are you ready for your first lessons?” Phin said, startling me out of my dreary thoughts.
“Absolutely,” I replied, and when he inclined his head to follow, I drew a deep breath and followed, as did Jack and Tuba.
On the top floor of the Dupré House was an enormous room, complete with a martial arts mat, kickboxing bag, boxing bag, and other apparatuses that I couldn’t identify. Luc and Josie were setting up three full-sized dummies on the mat at one end of the room. Silver throwing blades of various sizes and shapes lay on a long table at the other end.
I gave Phin a curious glance. “So my training is going to really be about becoming an expert knife thrower?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Sort of.” He glanced at me. “You’re going to have to learn how to aim, throw, and score while running, jumping, rolling, and flipping.” He grinned. “How’s that sound?”
I shrugged. “Almost as crazy as a family of vampires teaching a mortal how to kill vampires.”
His grin widened. “We’re not vampires. We’re creatures of the afterlight. We’re . . . special.”
So for the next several hours, I did a lot of watching and a lot of throwing of practice blades made of stainless steel. The pure silver blades, handcrafted in France and shipped to the House of Dupré, were to be used for the sole purpose of killing other vampires, and they were locked up.
“Okay. Your goal for the day is to simply try to hit the marks—the heart, of course—of the dummies, i.e., the Arcoses.” Luc sidled up beside me, placed a steel blade in my hand, closed his fingers over mine so that I’d grasp the short hilt, and then lifted my arm so that my hand rested directly behind my ear. “Like this,” he said. “Don’t let the blade loose until your arm is fully extended and pointing at your mark.”
“Got it,” I said, and did as he’d instructed. The blade flew across the room and landed square in the dummy’s forehead.
“Heart, Riley,” Phin said. “Aim for the heart.”
“I was,” I said, and everyone chuckled. An hour later, I finally hit the mark. I thought my arm would fall out of its socket, it was so sore.
Then Phin and Luc put me through a series of tests to gauge my existing fighting skills. That was one category where I efficiently proved myself. Of course, Phin and Luc were way stronger and faster than I’d ever be.
“You’re not even out of freaking breath,” I said, breathing hard, keeping my eyes fastened on Luc as he circled me, and w
aiting for the pounce.
“Cool, huh?” he said, grinning, his handsome face determinedly fixed on mine. “Vamp perk.”
I lifted a brow and inclined my head. “Where’d you get that headband?” I asked, noting the one keeping his long bangs from falling in his face. “The eighties?”
Luc’s expression darkened, and he lifted a hand to his band. “Hey, I—”
With a wide roundhouse kick, I knocked Luc’s feet out from under him and put him right onto his ass. I followed him down and straddled his middle. While his siblings laughed, Luc graciously accepted the fact that I’d gotten the best of him, and he laid there, sprawled out, arms spread wide in submission. “Nice move, mortal,” he said, then in one breathless move leapt up, flipped me, and had me flat on my back while he straddled me. He grinned. “Don’t hate the headband.”
He jumped up, bent over, and offered a hand up. I took it, then swept his legs with one solid kick and again had Luc on the mat.
“Dude, you might as well give up,” Phin said.
Luc glanced over at me and grinned. “You know I’m just fucking with you, right?” he said. “Building your esteem.”