The Original Sin (Book #3 in the Skye Morrison Vampire Series)

by J. L. McCoy

  As I visited with Dan, I learned that he was seeing Fiona, one of the bartenders at Drop Kick Dan’s. I thought he could do a lot better than her, but I kept that to myself and tried to be genuinely happy for him. Angel whispered to me that she didn’t like the idea of the two of them together either and we bonded over the fact. She told me all the latest gossip that was happening over at Dan’s bar and I found myself wishing I was back working there. Everything she complained about seemed so normal compared to what I had been going through over here at The Mausoleum. I envied their problems and I reminded myself to call Dan tomorrow and ask him about getting my old job back.

  Dean and Dylan invited me to go skydiving with them next weekend and I immediately took them up on the offer. I had always wanted to do it, but never found anyone brave enough to do it with me. As free and adventurous as Nikki was, she drew the line at free-falling out of a perfectly functional airplane.

  As the night wore on, my guests dwindled down. Soon, it was just Dean and I splitting our time between dancing and drunken games of quarters. I found out quickly that he was much better at the game than I was. Soon I was seeing double and had to call uncle. Archer joined us right before the club closed and was actually civil to Dean. They talked about their recent investments and land deals and I quickly became bored with them. Luckily the lights went up, signaling closing time, and I got up and hugged Dean tightly.

  “Thank you so much for coming out tonight, Dean,” I slurred against his chest. “You’re such a good friend.”

  “You are so wasted, Skye,” he laughed as he squeezed me to him. “I’m glad I got to spend some time with you. You’re fun as hell.”

  “Right back at ‘cha!” I said enthusiastically before tripping over my own feet.

  “I think you need to get this one to bed,” Dean laughed to Archer, before quickly correcting himself. “Her bed, that is.”

  “We were just starting to get along, wolf,” he shook his head, only slightly unamused, “and then you had to go and open your big mouth.”

  Dean laughed heartily as he turned and started to follow the crowd out. “The better to eat you with, fanger,” he teased over his shoulder. “Take care of her. Goodnight, Skye. See you next weekend.”

  “What’s next weekend?” Archer asked me.

  “The plane,” I drunkenly blinked up at him and tried to explain with wobbly hand gestures, “with the thing and the falling.”

  “Dean’s right,” he threw his head back and laughed. “We do need to get you to bed. You’re absolutely wasted.”

  I sighed and agreed with him as I leaned heavily into his side and allowed him to wrap his arms around me and lead me over to the first floor bar.

  “Lochlan, can you get her a tall glass of water, please?” Archer asked as he gently maneuvered me onto one of the barstools.

  “Sure thing, boss,” he chuckled as he took in my state.

  “I’ll be right back, babe,” Archer said softly as he kissed my forehead.

  I slowly drank my water as Archer went upstairs to close out a few things. After a few minutes, Trey came over and took the chair beside me.

  “Good God almighty,” he drawled in his feminine southern lilt. “I’m picking up incredibly strong waves coming off you. Someone is well past inebriated. I’ll catch a buzz just sitting next to you, darlin’.”

  “You’re a cheap date,” I laughed into my water, swaying slightly.

  Trey laughed at my lame joke as he motioned to Hunter for a drink.

  Soon, the cleaning was complete and my glass of water was empty. My eyelids began to grow heavy and when it was time to leave, I found that walking was damn near impossible. It wasn’t from being drunk, as I had started to sober up; it was from being absolutely exhausted.

  Archer draped his coat over my shoulders and gently lifted me in his arms. I put my arms around his neck, snuggled into his cool chest, and allowed him to carry me to the Escalade. I curled up in his lap and quickly drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning I awoke alone in my bed. I didn’t remember getting home and was a little surprised to see me redressed in a nightgown. I shielded my sensitive eyes from the brightness of the room and went into the bathroom to take care of my morning necessities.

  To my immense surprise, I was not the least bit hung over. I had drank enough the night before to put down a grown elephant so I should have been in a great deal of pain this morning.

  A heavy knock sounded at my door quickly followed by Hagan’s voice. “Get your ass up and get dressed, Morrison. You have training in fifteen minutes!”

  I groaned as I rinsed my face and heard his answering chuckle through the door. Well at least all seems to be forgiven between us, I mused as I brushed my teeth. Sure, I was still kind of mad at Hagan for the way he talked to me yesterday, but I knew it came from a place of concern and good intentions. He was trying to talk some sense into me the only way he knew how. That didn’t mean I wasn’t uber pissed at the time when he said them.

  I quickly threw up my hair in a tight bun and put on my gear, not bothering to shower yet. I knew I’d be dripping sweat in thirty minutes anyway, making the shower pointless.

  I walked out of my room and into the living room. All of the blinds were open as usual, letting in the mid-day light, and I squinted hard against it. I was unusually photosensitive and that confused me a bit. Usually, I was only light sensitive when I had a really bad hangover. Maybe you do and you just don’t realize it.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” Archer smiled as he leaned against the kitchen island, drinking a glass of blood. He was wearing white silk pajama bottoms, sexy bed head, and a smile, nothing more.

  “Hey there yourself, handsome,” I grinned as I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “Thanks for getting me home last night.”

  “Thanks for offering to give me a blow job as Aoife put you to bed,” he chuckled and I immediately spun around to gape at him. “She was rather amused.”

  “I did what?” I asked, shocked and immediately embarrassed. “Oh my word…I must have been out of my mind drunk last night.”

  “Hey,” he gaped back playfully. “You mean it wasn’t just the draw of my ‘impressive man meat’?”

  “Oh dear God,” I pinched the bridge of my nose in embarrassment, immediately knowing deep down that I had indeed said those exact words. “This is embarrassing.”

  “Morrison!” Hagan called from the entryway. “Get your ass down here. You can talk about knobbing the boss later.”

  “Oh, fuck me!” I hid my face in my hands as I tried to flee from the kitchen.

  “Hold on a second, Skye,” Archer called out to me and I stopped in the kitchen archway to look back at him. His mood had suddenly sobered and that gave me pause. “I wanted to talk to you for a second.”

  “Okay,” my brow creased in confusion as I instinctively and protectively crossed my arms over my chest. “Shoot.”

  Archer took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I, uh…I’ve given a lot of thought to what you said the other day in my office about wanting me to have Quinn erase your memory after Amun is dead.”

  I bit my bottom lip as I felt my heartbeat pick up speed. I was suddenly anxious to hear what he had to say. “And?” I prompted.

  “And,” he sighed again, staring down at his glass of blood, “as much as I don’t want to let you go, I’ll agree to it if that’s what you really want.”

  “Really?” I breathed, one half of my heart relieved, the other half devastated. “You’re really going to let me go?”

  “If it would make you happy Skye, I’d give you the whole world if only you asked,” Archer said, looking up at me and gazing intently into my eyes. Raw honesty coated every syllable and it made my breath hitch.

  “Archer…” I whispered as I took a step closer to him. I could tell how much my decision pained him and I wanted to wrap him in my arms and comfort him.

  “Morrison!” Haga
n called again. “If I have to tell you a third time, you’re going to need to have a proctologist to surgically remove my foot from that tiny little ass of yours!”

  “I’m coming, you impatient old coot! Keep your panties on!” I yelled out in his direction and then looked over at Archer apologetically.

  “You’d better go, love,” Archer chuckled, the topic seemingly forgotten. “We wouldn’t want anything damaging that hot little ass of yours, now would we?”

  “Not unless you’re doing the damaging…” I dared playfully with a wink and turned to leave. Archer’s amused laugh followed me out.

  Hagan was standing in the foyer holding the hidden panel door open for me and I took the steps down into the basement two at a time, trying to ignore his laughter.

  “I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself, sir,” I glared back at him.

  “Oh, I am Morrison,” he laughed. “Trust me, I am.” I glowered at him as I started doing my warm ups.

  “Listen,” he said suddenly, breaking almost five minutes of blissful silence. “I owe you an apology for the way I talked to you yesterday. Sometimes I forget how young you still are. I’m old, Morrison. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you tend to lose some of your tact. Still, that’s no excuse for the way I treated you. Granted some of those things needed to be said, but I could have said them differently and gotten the same message across.”

  “Sir,” I raised my eyebrows at him as soon as he stopped to take a breath, “enough with the afterschool special, okay? I’m starting to think there’s a big softy buried under all that muscle, and it’s a little disconcerting. I’m quite fond of your no nonsense approach to things. So, please don’t go changing on my account.”

  “Thank fucking God,” he blew out a huge breath of relief. “All this girl talk was starting to make me uncomfortable.”

  I laughed and shook my head as I moved into roundhouse warm-ups. I watched Hagan take two silver, eight inch daggers out of the weapons case on the wall and walk over to the sparring mat.

  “Enough bullshitting, Morrison,” he smirked. “We’re going to work on close quarters Scianóireacht today.”

  “Knife Arts, sir?” I asked, remembering his earlier translations.

  “You got it,” he winked as he tossed me the dagger.

  Somehow, I caught it wrong and the blade sliced deeply into the palm of my hand. “Agh!” I screamed out as tears immediately filled my eyes. “Oh God, it burns!”

  Hagan’s eyes grew wide as he grabbed a towel off the shelf and wrapped it tightly around my bleeding hand. “Damnú air, Morrison,” he swore as he looked into my eyes with confusion. “You never miss a throw.”

  “I-I know,” I said before biting my bottom lip hard, fighting off the intense burning sensation. It felt like someone had stuck a hot curling iron to my skin and hadn’t bothered taking it off yet. “I don’t know what happened. Christ! It burns so bad.”

  “It burns?” he asked, confused. “You mean it stings?”

  “No! It fucking burns. Pour some cold water on it, will you?”

  Hagan’s frown deepened but he grabbed my bottle of water off my chair and brought it over. “Hold still,” he commanded as he unwrapped the towel my hand. The bleeding had slowed, surprisingly, but the cut was still very deep. Hagan slowly poured water over the cut and it didn’t help much. “I think you’re going to need stitches. Is the water helping?”

  “No,” I shook my head as I clenched my eyes closed, fighting off the pain.

  Hagan made a few sniffing sounds and I opened my eyes, wondering what the hell he was doing. His nose was barely two inches from my bloody hand and he was sniffing at the cut.

  “Don’t even think about it, Hagan!” I said in a panic. “Don’t you dare try to feed from me.”

  Hagan paid no attention to my words as he studied and sniffed at my hand. “You smell different,” he said quietly, more to himself than me.

  “What?” I asked, confused and cranky. “No I don’t!”

  “Yes you do,” he countered as he finally looked me in the eyes. “Your blood smells different.”

  “I drank a lot last night,” I said with a sigh of impatience. “It’s probably all the alcohol you’re smelling. Now if you can stop salivating over my blood for two seconds, I think we should go upstairs and get someone else to take a look at my hand. You’re starting to make me nervous, Hagan.”

  “I should be insulted right now,” he growled before looking back down at my hand, “I have more control than you’re giving me credit for. I have no intentions of biting you. Your blood doesn’t even smell appetizing to me right now…trust me.”

  He put his hand on my back and helped me walk up the stairs to the first floor. As he closed the panel behind us, my knees suddenly got week and I started to fall.

  “Archer!” Hagan called out as he caught me before I hit the floor.

  “I don’t feel so good,” I whispered as the room spun around me. I was dangerously close to vomiting or passing out and I had no idea which one it was going to be.

  “It’s probably just the shock from seeing all the blood, Morrison,” Hagan said gently as he stood me up and helped me into the kitchen. “You’re going to be fine.”

  Archer flashed into the kitchen and immediately came to my side, wrapping one arm around me and helping me onto one of the stools. “What’s wrong? I smell blood. What happened?”

  Hagan started to explain my injury, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. All sound in the room had been muffled by the rapid heartbeat in my ears. My stomach started to churn and I became extremely light headed.

  “I-I think I’m going to be sick,” I whispered as I clutched my stomach with my uninjured hand. “Someone help me to the bathroom.”

  “Hagan, go have Pádraig ready the car,” Archer said in a rush. “We’re taking her to the hospital.”

  “Archer, I’m going to be sick,” I whispered as I heard Hagan flash out of the house.

  “Hold on baby,” he said as he picked me up and flashed me down the hall to my room. He set me down in front of the toilet and rubbed my back for a few seconds.

  “It burns so bad,” I sobbed, cradling my hand to my chest.

  “We’ll get you pain medication and stitches, Skye,” he said as I moved over to hang my head inside the bowl. “You’ll be okay soon, baby. I promise.”

  I started violently vomiting and Archer said something about being right back; that he was going to find me some medicine.

  The rapid heartbeat in my ears became overwhelmingly loud again and I closed my eyes as I threw up bucketfuls of stomach contents. My chest began to ache and I was having trouble breathing. I sat back from the toilet as soon as the first wave of vomiting had stopped and I finally managed to open my eyes. To my horror, everything was extremely blurry. My head started to ache as the second wave of vomiting overtook me and I collapsed on the floor, not being able to make it to the toilet. The pain in my chest increased with each heave, each heartbeat, and I started to become afraid.

  “I’ve got some anti-nausea medication, honey,” Trey called from my bedroom door and I could only groan as I continued to vomit.

  “Oh dear God!” Trey screamed as I writhed on the floor, completely consumed with pain as I wretched.

  “What?” Archer asked in a panic as he came into my room.

  Sounds became muffled again and I felt myself being lifted from the floor. I continued to throw up all over the person who had lifted me and reminded myself to apologize for it later.

  I felt someone slapping my face and I tried to open my eyes, but they felt incredibly heavy. I was so tired all of the sudden and only wanted to sleep.

  “I-I think she’s dying, athair!” I heard Trey yell behind me with sudden clarity. “Her heartbeat is slowing. Someone call an ambulance. Oh God, she’s not going to make it! Skye! Skye!”

  “What happened?” I heard a Hagan say as the pain in my chest almost became too much to bear; eclipsing the burning pain in m
y hand.

  “She started vomiting blood,” Archer yelled, complete panic in his voice. “Pints upon pints of blood and tissue. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “She’s in so much pain!” Trey screamed again. “I can feel it. It’s horrible! She’s really dying, Archer!”

  I’m dying, I thought to myself as the unbearable pain in my head, chest, stomach, and hand started to dull and fade away.

  “Skye, hold on!” Archer yelled. “Just hold on baby. We’re getting you to a hospital.”

  I was glad to see that my vision had returned somewhat when I opened my eyes and looked up at Archer. His face and hair were covered in blood and I tried to lift my hand to wipe some off his cheek, but found I had no control over my arms or legs.

  Archer immediately stopped running and looked down at me in horror.

  “Why are you stopping?!” Trey yelled in panic. “We have to get her to the hospital! She’s not going to last long! MOVE!”

  Suddenly, Trey’s face came into view and I saw that he was covered in blood as well. “Oh my God,” he whispered, the panicked look falling from his face only to be replaced by one of pure horror. “Her eyes.”

  “She’s transforming,” Archer said quietly, shocked calm in his voice. “She’s turning.”

  What? Me? What am I turning into?

  “How is that even possible?” I heard Hagan ask.

  “I don’t know,” Archer answered. “I just don’t know.”

  “Her eyes are completely pitch-black,” Trey whispered turning to someone I couldn’t see. “They look just like…him.”

  “She’s turning,” Archer whispered again, his fearful, shocked eyes never leaving mine.

  What?! Turning as in turning into a vampire? Oh God no! I don’t want to turn into a creature like them. I don’t want to be a vampire at all! Kill me. Kill me now!

  Archer must have heard my thoughts because he addressed me for the first time. “I have to end your life,” he whispered in a defeated monotone. “I can’t let you become what he is. I love you too much for that. I’m sorry Skye. I’m so sorry.”