For reasons Derek didn't wish to admit, it irked him that she looked so comfortable in the vampire's arms. "May I ask why you told her to sleep? He didn't bother to hide his irritation.
"If you haven't realized, she's exhausted."
He noticed, but it didn't make seeing Sloane in the vampire's arms any less disturbing.
"Not that I don't mind holding her," Tremayne said with amusement, "but do you have a place where she can rest comfortably?
"I'll take her." He didn't want the vampire to hold her another moment. Tremayne relinquished his bundle without a fuss and stepped away, giving him room to pass by. He cleared his throat and didn't glance at his sister or Tremayne as he headed down the hall. "I'll be right back."
Derek held her close and her hand rested on his chest. God, she felt good in his arms. Soft and feminine, and her hair smelled like her shampoo, a pleasant aroma he was learning to identify as her.
He placed Sloane on his bed and covered her with a comforter his mother had made for him. She snuggled onto her side with a sigh. He wished now he had placed her on the other side of the bed. His pillow would smell like her. That's all he needed to have: her scent teasing him when he needed a few hours of shuteye.
He left the door slightly ajar and joined his sister and Tremayne in the kitchen. His sister had made a pot of coffee. "There's cream in the refrigerator," he told her.
"Already found it." She gestured toward the creamer on the counter. She poured two cups and handed him one.
Derek eyed Tremayne over the rim as he took a generous swallow. The vampire leaned against the countertop with his arms crossed over his chest. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, nothing that claimed he was a badass vampire, but the man was rugged and built like a warrior—an original vamp. He'd seen battles where the bards sung about the warriors' bravery.
"I know Sloane needed rest," Derek blurted out, "but I also know you had another reason to send her to bed."
Tremayne nodded. "Intuitive like your sister, I see."
He harrumphed. "Let's get to the point here."
"Sloane was infected by the blood of the Nosferatu, a Romanian sept."
Derek lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Yeah, tell me something I don't know."
"Meaning there's no doubt in my mind: She will turn. It's just a matter of when. The Nosferatu's bite is like a poison that spreads through the bloodstream, mutating it."
Derek placed his coffee cup down and cursed under his breath. "Again, tell me something I don't know."
"I know you care about the girl," Tremayne said.
"I just met her," Derek barked. A total lie, but he wasn't getting into that now. He cared about Sloane, cared about what would become of her, and dammit he didn't want her to become a being he'd be forced to hunt down and stake.
His sister rested her hand on his shoulder. "It's all right to feel something for her. I understand what you're going through."
He glanced at Cassandra. Of course she understood. She fell in love with a vampire. Not that he was saying he was in love with Sloane, but he felt responsible for her and he liked her. He really liked her. "What the heck is wrong with us, Cass? We're hunters for Christ's sake. We rid the world of beings that would sooner see the humans vanquished than learn to live among them in peace. This has been the Hayes Family's motto for centuries."
She nodded. "But not all preternatural beings are evil. You know I'm right. Why else would you have called me?"
He squeezed his eyes closed and hoped the throbbing behind them wouldn't develop into a full on migraine. "What am I doing?" He somehow lost his way. He'd let a pair of beautiful blue eyes hamper his decision to do what he'd been trained to do. Sloane was infected by the most evil of septs. Their bloodlust was unmatched. No matter how kind Sloane was now, she'd lose that compassion in the end.
He knew what he had to do. He opened his eyes and turned, jerking open the top drawer where his utensils were kept. Behind the organizer, a dagger lay in waiting. He gripped the hilt and withdrew it. He stared at the sharp blade, the light overhead glinting off the shiny surface.
"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Cassandra asked him.
He frowned with indecision. His sister wouldn't stop him if he headed down the hall and ended Sloane's life. He glanced at Tremayne who stood there with his arms folded against his chest and eyeing him with curiosity. He supposed Tremayne could spring to life and restrain him, but he had a hunch the vampire would not make a move. They were letting him make the final decision. It was easy to kill a fiend, but not so simple when the vampire had a name and a sweet smile to go with it.
He lowered the weapon and leveled his gaze on Tremayne. "Can you help her?" He couldn't believe he just asked a vampire to help another through the change.
"Aye, but you may not like the process."
"I already don't like it. So go on, tell me your grand plan."
"It would require her drinking blood from my vein for a few days in hopes of counteracting the Nosferatu's effects. Then I would have to complete the process of changing her completely."
Which meant Tremayne would drain her dry so she could awaken as a vampire. If he allowed this he was aiding and abetting. It stood against everything he'd been brought up to believe. "There's no other way? There's no cure?"
He shook his head. "But changing her and hoping she doesn't reject my blood is the least of our problems. The Nosferatu are possessive creatures. Her boyfriend will be back to finish the job he started. Three bites before she will be under his control. He's already completed the first and she drank from him. With the second bite, she will be his minion, and the final bite, she will be just like him. They'll be the Bonny and Clyde of the vampire world, and I assure you their rampage will be long and bloody. A mated Nosferatu is a binding ritual. They'll be able to read each other's thoughts immediately. In other vampire septs it takes training and even then it is sketchy at best."
"You're saying Tim will keep coming after her unless we stop him?"
"Aye, it is a guarantee," Tremayne said without hesitation.
"Maybe we could use this to our advantage," Cassandra spoke up and both Tremayne and Derek stared at her.
"We need to put an end to Tim, but we need to find him. We have what he wants. All we have to do is—"
Derek knew where his sister was going with this and he didn't like it. "No. We aren't using Sloane as bait." The demand flew from his lips before he could recall it.
His sister's brows lifted. "Why not? It's a good plan."
"Because…" He looked to Tremayne then to his sister again. Cassandra was right. It was a solid plan, one that was sure to work, but… "It's too risky."
"Too risky?" Cassandra's voice rose. "Just a moment ago you were ready to march down the hall and dust her."
"I…" He stared at the dagger he still held in his hand. "What the hell am I doing?"
Tremayne smirked. "I guess falling for a vampire runs in the family."
"Shut up!" Both Derek and Cassandra said at the same time.
Cassandra rolled her eyes at Derek and he shook his head. "I haven't fallen for her," he voiced, but even to him his claim fell short. If his parents hadn't dragged him out of high school to hunt a pack of werewolves in Oregon who knew where Sloane and his relationship would have gone. He'd been halfway in love with her then. Maybe this was the attraction. The what if… "It just… We shouldn't make the decision for Sloane. Let me speak—" Footfalls in the hall caught his attention and a second later, Sloane stood in the archway between the living room and the kitchen.
His heart stopped then kicked into action thudding so loud he could hear it echoing in his ears. Sloane's unruly strands were unbound, framing her face in dark waves of silk and her eyes stood out like twin pools that he could drown in and he'd gladly dive right in.
He'd truly lost it. And the funny thing was: He didn't give a damn.
"What decision?" she asked.
Chapter Eleven
Sloane frowned, wonde
ring why Derek stared at her as if he'd never seen her before, but then something intense flared through his entrancement. She recognized the look because she'd experienced something similar at Dr. Sinclair's place. Desire. Heat rose to her cheeks and spread down her body like a fever. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh…" She shifted her gaze, knowing it was the only way she'd be able to string two words together and have it make sense. She cleared her throat and fixed her eyes on Cassandra. Looking at Tremayne would only intimidate her. "Is anyone going to tell me what decision I'm suppose to make?"
"It doesn't matter," Derek bit out. "It's not going to happen." He opened a drawer behind him and shoved what she thought might be a dagger into it. Had he been holding it when she walked into the kitchen? Funny, she hadn't noticed anything but the way his eyes caressed her.
Cassandra spoke up, ignoring her brother's remark. "We need to find Tim."
"I said she's not going to do it," Derek barked louder, turning his heated gaze on his sister, only this heat was one of anger.
Tremayne chuckled, which won him the lethal glare from Derek. The vampire lifted his hands in an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, but I thought vampires were possessive, but it appears hunters are just as controlling."
Sloane lifted a brow and placed her hands on her hips. "Will someone please let me know what's going on?"
Derek leveled his gaze in her direction again and she flinched at the fury radiating off of him. He didn't seem to notice his affect on her as he grounded out each word. "They want to use you as bait. Tim wants you and only you and he'll stop at nothing to have you. Is that clear enough for you?"
"Why are you snapping at me?" She threw back.
Silence hung in the air for a long few seconds.
Derek closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and let it out again. When he opened them once more, he seemed to have gained some control over his temper. "Sorry. I'm pissed off at these two eegits." He motioned toward them with a quick jerk of his thumb. "I didn't mean to take it out on you."
She regarded Derek curiously, not comprehending what had set him off. So they wanted her help. Why did he care? Then it dawned on her. He cared. That was what this was all about. He cared about her. God, why did he have to look so good with temper flaring in his catlike eyes, turning them greener as they blazed with passion? Sure, the passion was anger, but he wore it so well, like a knight-in-shining-armor coming to her rescue. Would those eyes look as captivating as they did now when making love? She frowned at where her thoughts had taken her and her lack of control to stay on the subject. They were discussing taking down a killer and she stood here fantasizing about getting naked with Derek. She looked at Cassandra and Tremayne. "I'll do it. If we can stop Tim from killing anyone else, I'll do whatever it takes."
"What?" Derek sputtered in disbelief.
"Splendid," Tremayne said with an amused smile plastered to his face as if he were watching a humorous sitcom and was anticipating the next punch line.
"Sloane, you don't understand." Derek took a step toward her, but she held up her hand to halt him. She met his stare head on.
"I said I would do it. End of discussion. I don't want anyone else harmed. If this is the only way to stop Tim, I'm all for it. You should be, too."
"It's not the only way," Derek argued.
"But it's the best plan, isn't it?" Sloane shot back, knowing the answer already.
Derek's intense eyes held her prisoner, but then he blinked, releasing her, and without dignifying her question with an answer, he stalked out of the room.
"Don't mind my brother," Cassandra said, breaking the awkward silence.
She glanced at Derek's sister. She could see the strong family resemblance. Brown hair with a deep reddish tint—mahogany came to mind, though Cassandra's hair was highlighted with strands of golden brown, making it appear a shade or two lighter than Derek's thick head of hair. The eyes were the same, too: a light green almost catlike in both color and shape. "Why is Derek so adamant that I don't do this? You'd think he'd be jumping for joy at the possibility of catching Tim."
"You'd think." Cassandra's lips twitched, but she didn't fully smile as she gave Tremayne a meaningful glance.
"We'll need to formulate a plan," Tremayne took over. "A plan where you'll remain safe."
"Safe until I change into a vampire, you mean. I am going to change, aren't I?" She hoped Tremayne would tell her she wouldn't, but her hopes died with his next words.
"We need to have a chat about your options," Tremayne told her. "Let's take a walk."
She glanced at the digital clock shining bright on the microwave. "It's two in the morning." The moment she said the words it hit her. "Vampire," she murmured then spoke louder. "Night is like day to you, isn't it?"
"The sun can do considerable damage to a vampire. I know you have questions and I'll do my best to answer them."
He waited patiently for her to make up her mind to follow or not. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't at least a little curious. She glanced at Cassandra. "Let Derek know—" She stopped mid-sentence and frowned. What was she thinking? She didn't owe Derek an explanation. She could walk with Tremayne if she wanted to. It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong, but—
Cassandra placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, interrupting her confusing thoughts. "I'll tell him."
Sloane nodded her appreciation.
She never was out this late… or rather this early. The night proved quiet and it was difficult to believe vampires and other preternatural beings were up and about living their lives.
She glanced at Tremayne. He was tall, taller than Derek by an inch or two. His muscles strained against the fabric of his T-shirt. This he had in common with Derek. Both were well muscled as if they lifted weights for a living.
"You may ask questions, if you wish," he said to her.
Boy did she have plenty, but she decided on a more personal question and hoped it didn't prove too forward of her. "When were you turned and how long have you been a vampire?"
"I was born a Oiche Sith." He glanced at her as they strode side by side on the sidewalk.
"Ee-hah shee…" She dragged out the pronunciation. "Sounds like American Indian."
"It's Irish Gaelic. Translating it loosely, it means night being."
"Well, I suppose that's appropriate."
"We're an old blood-drinking sept. There are many others that have survived the centuries and still more that did not."
"Each sept is different in some way, right?"
"Aye, but we all rely on blood for substance. The vampire clans at one time lived among the humans, but a malady targeted the blood drinking septs. We could no longer have children."
She frowned. "Vampires could have babies?"
He gave her a small smile and a dimple winked at her from his right cheek. It kind of gave the vampire a more…human look about him. "Shocking, I know." His sarcasm wasn't lost on her.
"But you can't have any children now?"
"No. As the blood drinkers' life changed and women became scarce or infertile, some of the males chose to take what they needed from the humans, while others tried to find another way to survive. I will not make excuses. The Oiche Sith as well as the other blood drinking septs need blood. It's a fact that cannot be ignored. If mated, we can survive by drinking from our mates, but with no young being born to our clans, finding a mate has proved difficult. The men out numbered the women. In the past, we sought other means, made treaties with the human clans, but the females rarely survived the blooding ritual."
"The blooding ritual?" That didn't sound pleasant in the least and when Tremayne explained the details, her suspicions were correct.
"It has always been risky to turn a human," he continued. "Even now with all our technology, sometimes the human rejects the change."
It never dawned on her that she would not survive this whole ordeal. "So I could die…for real…forever gone," she clarified and swallowed hard.
"Aye
, it is a possibility."
They walked in silence for a moment as she digested what he told her. "You said that I would change no matter what now. I don't feel any different."
His unsettling blue-eyed gaze settled on her. "Is that so?"
The way he asked her made her question her claim. "Yes, that's so." She lifted her chin in defiance, but she knew she wasn't entirely speaking the truth. Pools of streetlight paved their way, but she realized her eyesight was sharper. She could make out details normally hampered by the cover of moonlight, but she wanted Tremayne to be wrong. She wanted to beat this and survive. She wanted to remain human.
Tremayne shook his head. "If a Oiche Sith had fed from you, then I would say your chances were good, that you will not change, but not all vampire septs are the same. Some infect their prey, their blood is tainted from centuries of indulging in blood practices that altered their DNA, but I can still help you. It's not a cure though," he hurried to say, obviously recognizing the hope in her eyes. "There is no cure once you've been infected from a Nosferatu's bite, but I could flush your blood with mine. You would take on the traits of the Oiche Sith. I am a pureblood, born from vampire parents," he explained as if this meant something to her, but he didn't leave her wondering. "My blood is strong and not tainted."
"But Tim's blood is?"
"Aye." He nodded.
"Is it too late for him? Could you…" He looked at her and she knew by his expression of pity that Tim could not be helped.
"I'm sorry. He's killed and it is difficult to come back once the aggressive blood lust is unleashed."
"Difficult, but not impossible." She touched his arm and brought his strides to a halt. "Not impossible, right?" she repeated.
"Not entirely impossible, but..."
"But will you try? If I could make him turn himself in, would you help him?"
He looked away from her with a heavy sigh, which surprised her. She didn't realize vampires needed to breathe. It was just one more question she had to ask him. Finally, he answered. "Truthfully, I must side with the hunters on this one. Dusting him would be preferred, but we shall see."
Flowers and Fangs (Stake and Dust series, Book II) Page 7