Her struggles ceased, and for a moment, he thought her free, or at least in control.
He stepped back. Lilith stared up at him. Lilith. Those gorgeous eyes of hers almost glowing from the reflected sunlight. She gave him a jerky nod. “I got her. She's d-dead.”
Dread filled him. He took another step back and looked down.
She'd stabbed herself with his Guardian blade. Must have taken it while they struggled.
“Oh, God.” He dropped to his knees in front of her, ripping her nightgown to see the damage. She'd plunged the blade hilt deep into her stomach. “What did you do?”
Her knees buckled and he eased her fall, pulling her into his arms. “You stupid, stupid, woman, what did you do?”
“Saved us.”
No. She'd saved him. And for what, to go back to his old existence? To wait for her to reincarnate again? “I'm not letting you go.”
She smiled. Blasted woman. How dare she? “It's okay.”
He shook his head. “No. I can't. I’m not letting you go.”
“It's fine. I'll . . . .” A deep sigh escaped her lips and her eyes slid closed.
For a terrifying moment he thought she'd died. But her heart still beat. Barely.
She'd hate him for this. And he couldn't decide what was worse, having her alive and out of reach, or dead.
The radio flipped on, sparking off disconnected noise as the dial rolled, settling on Elton John's, “Someone Saved My Life Tonight.”
Oh, so now the Watchers wanted her back.
Well, they were in luck, because so did he.
James laid her on the floor. The main artery in the neck would be the quickest, but the artery in her leg would be almost as good and be easier for her to hide the scar from his bite.
He held little resemblance to the vampires of Hollywood. He had no fangs to make neat, little twin holes in her flesh. His teeth were no different from hers, and his bite mark would be big and ugly.
He pulled up her nightgown, running his cheek down her inner thigh, scenting out where the vein lay closest to the surface.
Her pulse had slowed, thinned.
When he found his mark, he pressed his lips to her skin. “Sorry, Lil.” He closed his eyes, opened his mouth wide and sank his teeth deep into her tender flesh, shuddering at the inaudible pop of her skin breaking. The warmest, sweetest of tastes filled his mouth, causing a raging battle between heart, mind, and instinct.
She came back to consciousness with a shriek, her heart lurching into a rapid tempo. Her body tensed, and then she tried to buck him away. Keeping his mouth on her leg, he shifted positions, throwing his leg over her torso to keep her still. He wrapped both arms around her leg, holding her tight, to keep from doing any additional damage.
Fighting him off was futile, but still she tried, struggling against him. Her screams tore at him. He tightened his arms around her, trying to keep from ripping her flesh any more than necessary. Within seconds, she faded, weakened from blood loss. He met her gaze, gutted by the tears leaking from her eyes. She'd hate him for this. She'd never forgive him. When her blood flow slowed to a trickle, he needed every ounce of discipline he possessed to fight the instinct to continue to feed and finish her off.
But he refused to let her go. James sat back and pulled her lifeless body into his arms. “It'll be over soon. I'm so sorry, baby. It's going to be all right. It'll all be over soon.”
Chapter 30
“What the hell are you doing?”
James whirled around at the unfamiliar voice. A woman stood in the entryway, she'd left the door open behind her, allowing sunlight to pour in around her. It made her appear surrounded by a bright aura.
She was just a bit of a thing with dark hair and deep brown skin. Eyes dark as onyx drifted to Lilith before darting back to his. “What did you do?”
Christ, this must be Trina.
He laid Lilith down next to him and started to rise. “She'll be—”
“You're in the wrong house.”
James blinked.
Slowly, he got to his feet, glancing around at his surroundings.
Where the hell was he?
A small Latina woman had spoken. She didn't look familiar. Her heart thudded, heavy in her chest.
How the hell had he ended up in a human's home?
He glanced around at the miss-matched furniture, his gaze lingering on the couch and wide ottoman. Something wasn't right.
He did recognize this place, but it didn't feel right. Everything seemed off kilter.
“I said, you're in the wrong house.” She clenched her jaw tight, though her tone held no overt inflection, the way she fisted her small hands and the rigidness of her spine spoke volumes for her mood. “Easy mistake to make, I suppose. I won't call the cops if you leave now.”
James eyed the sunlit entry and slowly, he shook his head. “This isn't right.” He looked around the room again, this time his gaze falling to the brunette lying on the floor.
Lilith.
He edged closer to his woman, his gaze returning to Trina. She's a witch. She's fucking with you. “Whatever you're doing, stop it.”
Her eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed.
“I'm trying to help her, damn you.” He bent to pick Lilith up, but all around him, the house groaned.
“Don't touch her.” Trina's long black hair whipped around her head as if caught in a stiff wind.
The house shuddered. The walls flexed and bowed.
“Jesus, Trina. I know what this must look like. Nan got to her. She got in her.”
“You killed her.” She stepped deeper into the room, closer. Behind her, the door slammed shut. Whatever control she might possess over her Magic, she didn't appear to be exercising any of it.
“I didn't. Nan was here. She—”
“Nan's dead.”
“Her ghost.” Chunks of plaster exploded from the walls, revealing the inner skeleton of the house, the wooden boards and beams. He ducked, shielding his face as glass shattered. Lilith's knickknacks exploded. Bits of drywall, glass, and pottery flew around like shrapnel. He shouted to be heard over the destruction. “Lil stabbed herself because Nan possessed her. She would've died. I bit her to keep her here.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Her expression darkened. Around them, the inner woodwork of the house imploded. Studs and struts broke, their splintered edges pointing into the room and the house seemed to fold in on itself, the room shrinking, thrusting those sharp bits of wood and steel closer to him.
The sheer force of the adrenaline flowing through him, made him lightheaded. “Don't do this. I'd never hurt her.”
“You're a vampire.”
He eyed his weapon on the ground next to Lilith. “I don't want to hurt you, Trina.”
Her eyes widened.
“Yeah, I remember you. I helped you. Her. I'm trying to now, as well.”
For a few seconds she seemed uncertain, her Magic waned, the house partially righting itself. He wasn't fool enough to think this was an illusion. It was more a sign of her strength that she had such control, distorting everything around them without permanently destroying it all. If she continued, he had no doubt, that after she'd ashed him, the house and everything in it would return to its original state. Everything but him.
He lifted his hand, pointing to Lilith. “She's going to need to feed. I have blood upstairs in my safe.”
“You've ruined her.” Again, energy whipped through the house, broken boards straining toward him. “She'll lose her Magic. Her friends. Everything.”
James leapt, tackling her. He wrapped his body around hers, trying to prevent hurting her in the fall. It was enough to break her concentration.
The house resumed its former state. Everything snapped back to where it had originally been.
They rolled across the floor and he pinned her beneath him. “Stop it. We need to take care of Lilith right now.”
She didn't answer. Her eyes seemed to look straight
through him. She didn't fight. She didn't shout.
“Trina?”
She didn't respond. She almost looked as though she'd gone into some sort of fugue.
A pinpoint of pain erupted in his head. He winced, sitting back on his haunches.
“I wish you dead.” Trina spoke the whisper-soft words.
Christ. His vision blurred and he fell back on his ass, clutching his head. His erratic breath came hard, fast. That pinpoint of pain ruptured in his skull, sending shock waves rolling though his body. He tried to crawl away from her, every movement more strenuous than the last.
Then he realized he was going the wrong way.
Trina wouldn't stop.
Not until he was ash.
He needed every ounce of energy to turn himself around, dragging himself across the floor. Pain burst behind his eyes and the world flickered and then went dark. His vision disappeared. Blindly, he felt for Trina. Grasped hold of a foot and yanked her toward him.
A blast rocked thought the room, tearing him away from Trina. For a terrible second he thought that was it. That it was over for him.
But the pain in his head stopped. His sight returned. He blinked his eyes, breathing hard. For a minute, everything was too bright. Too blurred. Then the light faded and the world seemed to right itself.
Lilith crouched over him. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. Christ, had he died? Was he dreaming?
Her gaze went to her friend. “Trina?”
“Yeah.”
He glanced at Trina to find her staring at Lilith with the same degree of confusion he felt.
Lilith appeared . . . the same as before. She definitely wasn't under the strain of a first blood-lust; if she had been, she'd be tearing Trina apart, not asking after her health. Lilith reached for him, cupping his cheek in her warm hand. “What happened?”
Warm. She was still warm. He circled her wrist with his palm. Christ, she had a pulse. Her heart still beat. He'd bitten her. She should be a fucking vampire. She should be in blood-lust. He got to his knees, pushing her back and lifting her torn nightgown to see the knife wound on her belly, his bite mark on her thigh. Both healed. Only pale scars remained.
“He bit you.”
His head snapped to the side at Trina's accusatory tone. Then he looked up at his mate. “Nan possessed you. You stabbed yourself to destroy her.”
Her eyebrows furrowed; she seemed to be trying to remember. Her eyes closed, her lips pressed into a thin line and when she opened her eyes, tears rimmed her lashes. “My gods, what did you do?” She looked down at herself, skimming her hand over the fresh scar on her belly, then her inner thigh.
His gut rolled.
“They'll considered you rogue now.”
A breath shuddered out. She was worried about him? Not pissed at what he'd done? “You're my mate. That's more important.”
“James.” Her eyes welled with tears.
“Don't do that. Don't cry.” His tone was far too rough in his ears, but he opened his arms, knowing Trina would start a fresh fight should he make a move for Lilith.
She threw herself into his arms. “I'm right, though? They'll be sending someone now.”
Trina shifted her weight. “Who?”
He met Trina's gaze over Lilith's head. “The Vampiric Council.”
“Why?”
Lilith lifted her head. “Guardian's aren't allowed to transform anyone.” She glared at him with red-rimmed eyes. “He just signed his own death warrant.”
Trina started to pace.
Lilith lifted the edge of his shirt, wiping at his chin.
Shit. He could imagine what he must look like with her blood drying on his face. Shame burned a pit in his gut.
She forced him to look at her. “Whatever you're thinking, stop it.” She licked her thumb and scrubbed at the corner of his mouth.
“Jesus, Lil.” He captured her hand in his. “I swear to God, if you ever do that again, I'll put you over my knee.” His gaze shifted to Trina.
Her hand covered her mouth, her eyes twinkling with merriment. “Oh, gods, your face. That was priceless.”
Lilith scowled, a pretty blush staining her cheeks. “I'm sorry. I—” She moaned. “What are we going to do now?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “You didn't change. They won't touch you. There's no proof—”
“The Watchers saw.” Trina propped her hand on her hip.
He shrugged. “I had their permission.”
Both women stared.
“They spoke through the radio.”
“You’re sure that wasn’t Nan?” Trina asked.
For a heartbeat, he wavered. “The Watchers.”
Trina's gaze narrowed. “How do you know?”
Christ, she was an argumentative woman. “Because the last message, the one giving me permission came through after Lilith stabbed herself.”
Trina's stance relaxed.
Lilith was frowning at her friend again.
He stroked the back of his fingers down Lilith's arm. “Are you sure you're okay?”
She continued to stare at Trina. “You can't hear me, can you?”
The corners of Trina's mouth turned down. Panic flashed across her features. Her gaze shifted to James. “What did you do to her?”
What the hell? He thought they were past this. “Nothing that I can see, except to give her the ability to self-heal.”
Trina’s lips trembled. “I can't hear her.”
His gaze traveled between the two. “I don't understand, you've been participating in the conversation.”
She poked her finger at her head. “In here.”
Lilith put her hand on his arm. “We used to be able to talk telepathically. I can't hear her anymore.”
Trina took a threatening step forward. “You took her Magic.”
Lilith shook her head. “I don't think so. When I came to, I used Magic to break the two of you apart.” She held out her hand and a flame burst up from her palm.
They all jumped back.
“Shit.” Lilith stared up at the scorched ceiling with wide-eyed awe. “I think it's stronger than before.”
“Or maybe it’s linked to your emotions,” Trina said. “My Grimoire says a vampire’s bite removes a witch’s Magic.”
James scrubbed his hand over his head. “Okay, look. Everyone needs to calm down.”
Trina motioned to Lilith. “We don't know what the hell you did to her.”
“I transformed her.”
“Into what?”
James let out a string of curses. This was ridiculous. He pulled Lilith back into his arms. “As soon as the sun sets, I'll take you to the Historian. I'm sure she'll be able to tell us what the hell is going on.” He’d been wanting to go see Augustina anyway. They only reason he’d put it off so long was because Crowley seemed eager for him to go.
“Twenty bucks says the Historian tells you, you did it wrong.”
He released Lilith and took a step toward Trina, fisting his hand and poking one finger at her. “I'm gonna try to like you, because that'll make my mate happy, but you better simmer the fuck down, Sunshine.”
Trina reared back. Her gaze slid to Lilith and she shrugged. “I like him. Keep him if you want.”
As if she had any say. “You don't—”
“Okay.” Lilith stepped in front of him, dragging his gaze to hers with her hand on his cheek. “Everything is fine.” She glanced at Trina. “No more antagonizing my mate.”
He took a breath, keeping his attention focused on Lilith. “I'm going to go clean up.”
She lifted up on her toes to kiss him. “Thank you.”
Chapter 31
Lilith waited until she heard the bathroom door close. “Do you have to be so argumentative?”
Trina swung around. “What the hell are you thinking?”
Lilith sighed. “We'll talk about this later.” She headed upstairs to dress and Trina followed.
“He bit you.”
&n
bsp; “He saved my life.” She opened her bedroom door and turned to glare at Trina. “At great personal risk, I might add. Why don't we talk about you? What were you doing to him?”
This time Trina looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Right.” Lilith pulled out a fresh pair of jeans and tugged them on. “Of course not.”
“I meant what I said, I like him. Big as he is, he doesn't have much of a temper.”
Ah, so that's why Trina kept pecking at him even after realizing they were safe. The question was, why did the state of his temper matter so much? Was this related to whatever had happened to her while they had been apart? “What is going on with you?” She gave Trina her back, pulled off her ruined nightgown and put on a bra. “You're hiding something.”
The doorbell dinged. A fist banged on the door.
They both froze. It was too soon for other Guardian to come for James, wasn't it?
Trina thrust her chin toward the door. “You want me to get that?”
“No. I want you to stay out of it.” Lilith pulled on a shirt and walked to the door, but Trina grabbed her arm.
“It's daemons. Three of them.”
“They’re probably here for James . . . because of what he did.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How would they know so soon?”
“The Watchers.”
Trina shook her head. “They’d still need time to contact the Guardians . . . and they’d need time to get here.”
Lilith met Trina's gaze. “Please don't sell him out.”
“They won’t even know I’m here.”
It was more than she'd expected. Lilith went downstairs and opened the door.
As Trina had said, three daemons stood on her porch. Two dressed in street clothes stood back from the door. The one on the drive, a handsome, dark-haired male, wouldn't meet her gaze. The other, a carrot-topped hulk, grinned smugly.
The third resembled a Mormon missionary. Everything about him begged his trustworthiness, from his youthful face down to his pressed suit. His curly blond hair had been moussed back tight against his scalp and his doe-like brown eyes exuded an innocence she didn't buy for a moment. He looked familiar. Why did he look familiar?
“Ma'am, I'm Julius Crowley.” He flashed some kind of badge at her. “Can I come in, please?” He had an auctioneer's voice that seemed to fill the house. Fill her.
The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1) Page 24