The Vampire Always Rises (Dark Ones Book 11)

by Katie MacAlister

  What was wrong with him? He used to have perfect control of his emotions, and now a few minutes with a woman and he was as uncontrolled as a youth.

  “Ellis and I were checking into the hotel—oh, I should talk to you about that, since I don’t want to have to sleep with Ellis—and all of a sudden, boom, there he was!”

  He touched his forehead. Wasn’t that how mortals determined if they had a fever? He didn’t feel ill—Dark Ones didn’t sicken, as a rule, unless they were suffering from poisoning—but perhaps he’d been in contact with some virus that affected his kind.

  “Who was there?” Savian asked from the backseat. “This really is a nice dog. He seems to think I have a treat in my pocket, though. Oh, wait, I do have some mints.”

  He fought the hunger, the need to take Tempest in his arms, and do all those things to her that suddenly became the most important things in the world.

  “It was my cousin Carlo.” Tempest squeezed his arm. He thought seriously of pulling out his phone and finding the nearest hotel so that he could give in to all those desires.

  “Wait ... Carlo is your cousin?” Savian asked.

  “Yes. Don’t blame me, though. I’m beginning to think that all of my dad’s family is a bit off. Merrick?”

  No, he couldn’t make it to a hotel. He eyed the houses down the road. Perhaps if he offered one of the owners a sizable amount of euros ...

  Merrick? What’s wrong? Why are you panting? I can feel you thinking, but you must be trying to hide your thoughts from me, because all I get is a sense of you holding something back.

  He snarled soundlessly into her head, and let her see just what he was thinking.

  “Glorious grasshoppers!” she said on a gasp, and lunged forward, both hands on his face, her lips burning a brand on his, enticing him, driving him insane with need, pushing him almost past the point of control.

  With a superhuman effort, he managed to push her back, but took pleasure nonetheless in the fact that her eyes were dilated with desire, she was breathing raggedly, and a sexual flush had washed upward from her chest.

  She was desire personified, and it would take a stronger man than him to resist her.

  He didn’t. She was there in his arms again, warm and sweet and satisfying.

  “Erm. Should I leave? Apparently you two would like a little private time.”

  He kissed her the way he wanted to kiss her from that moment on, tasting every last morsel of her, his hands full of her breasts, his mind consumed with the hunger for her.

  “I probably should. Perhaps the dog would like walkies?”

  It wasn’t enough. He needed to feed, but only from her. He needed the taste of her on his tongue, filling all the dark spots inside him with her warmth and light and goodness.

  “Walkies, dog? Good boy. I’ll just take you out for a little walk, and hopefully by the time you’re done, Merrick and Tempest won’t be naked and writhing around on the seat. Not that I care what you do in your private time, but you are paying me by the hour, and the trail is getting colder with each passing minute. Well, then! Kelso, is it? Shall we go find a nice spot to take a dump? You, that is, not me, because lucky for all of us, there is a petrol station right there behind us should the need arise. Not that I’d announce to you both that there was that need, because there are some things one should just pull a shade on. You’re still going at it, aren’t you? I thought perhaps one or both of you would come up for air, but no, I see I was wrong. Right. Well. I reckon that’s our cue, my lad. Out we go.”

  Who is that man?

  Merrick, absorbed in thoughts of how he could get Tempest naked, dragged his mind off her luscious, delectable self and onto what she had asked.

  He is a thief taker.

  Oh, that’s right, you told me about him. Wait, you’re stopping? Why?

  Merrick realized just how close he was to taking her right there in the front seat, and gently pushed her back to her side of the car. “Because it’s still light out, and if I did all the things that you want me to do to you here, people would see. What were you saying about being kidnapped?”

  “Hmm? My lips feel like they should be bruised.” She touched her mouth, which just made him stare at her lips, wanting to taste them yet again. “Do they look bruised? You are an awesome kisser. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Stop tempting me. Who was kidnapped?”

  “I told you already. Ellis and Kelso and I were grabbed and stuffed in a car.”

  “Ah.” He dragged his gaze off her mouth.

  She gave him a look of disgruntled disbelief. “Ah? Is that all you’re going to say? Ah? Just like it didn’t matter that I was kidnapped?”

  “Were you harmed?”

  “No, but ...” She waved an arm around in vague gestures of incomprehension. “But in all of C. J. Dante’s books, when a heroine is kidnapped, the vampire goes nutso cuckoo. He clutches her to his chest, and declares the kidnapper will die for touching her, and generally slips into super-protective mode. Why aren’t you doing that?”

  “You say you aren’t hurt, and I can see that you are well and able-bodied. I believe in saving my rage for situations where it can be used, not wasted on empty gestures.”

  “Well, I like that! Dante’s vampires don’t use empty gestures! They love their Beloveds! They can’t live without them.” She poked him in the chest. “And they admit it, unlike some pigheaded vampires I could name.” She poked him again, evidently for good measure.

  “I will repeat yet again that real Dark Ones are not the same as those in Christian’s books.” He absently watched Savian walk the dog along a strip of grass. “Who kidnapped you, and why?”

  “Cousin Carlo.” She sounded slightly sulky, but he ignored that to pin her back with a look that would have scared anyone else.

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me you’d seen him?”

  “I did!”

  “You did not! I would have remembered if you’d told me that.”

  “I most certainly did tell you. I told you just a few minutes ago, when you were doing all that thinking that you didn’t let me see. What exactly were you thinking about so deeply that you didn’t hear me?”

  He looked away, feeling somewhat martyred.

  “You were thinking smutty things about me, weren’t you?” She looked downright delighted. “The sorts of things you let me see right before you made me kiss you.”

  “I was not,” he answered; then something compelled him to correct himself. “It was only a few of those things. Others were added once you lunged at me.”

  “It was a good lunging,” she said, smiling smugly to herself. He let that go, honking the horn until Savian returned with the dog.

  “Carlo has been spotted,” he announced when both man and dog were back in the car. “Tempest will now tell us what happened.”

  She did so, sketching out a scene that left his blood running cold. If Tempest hadn’t had the wits and courage to escape when she did, she could have been lost to him forever. If Carlo wasn’t Victor himself, then he must be one of his lieutenants. Either way, he had to find the man. He had to be punished for his involvement with the crimes against Dark Ones.

  And for touching Tempest.

  “—we were hiding behind—what?”

  “Hmm?” Merrick tried for an inscrutable expression, but was unsure of whether he pulled it off.

  Tempest frowned at him. “Did you say something?”

  “I wouldn’t interrupt you that way,” he said, allowing a bit of righteous indignation to temper his tone.

  “Oh. OK. Well, we were hiding behind this stack of logs, watching for the car to come back—”

  Merrick’s mind wandered to the things he wanted to do to Victor, but he was very careful to shield them from Tempest.

  “—and then we decided the coast had been clear long enough, so we went to get the phone, but it was broken, so we just started walking toward the nearest big town. I figured we’d get a train back to Nice, and are y
ou growling?”

  Merrick stopped growling to himself. “No.”

  “Oh.” She looked over her shoulder. “No growlies, Kelso. Savian is your friend.”

  “Eh?” Savian said, looking confusedly between the dog and her.

  “Which direction were they headed before they stopped at the petrol station?” Merrick asked Tempest, starting the car and preparing to head out in chase.

  “North, but I don’t know what the destination was. It had to be somewhere in France, though, because Ellis’s passport was with the hotel, and he wouldn’t be able to get across the border. Although I don’t think they knew that. Hmm.”

  Savian pulled out his phone. “Let’s see. Nearest large town is Tourrette-Levens, although I don’t know that you’re necessarily looking for a town.”

  “We’ll go on the assumption that he was heading that way, since your trail indicates the same. Can you track from the backseat?”

  “I am the best thief taker in all of Europe,” Savian said with a laugh. “I could track blindfolded. Well, all right, not blindfolded, but with one eye patch.”

  “What exactly are you talking about?”

  Merrick focused on his attention on driving while Savian explained his profession and the sanguine trail to Tempest, who, as expected, was delighted by both.

  “This is so cool!” She turned to Merrick and punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t you see what that means? That trail that Savian was following was me. It shows that we’re connected.”

  “I didn’t know you had a mate,” Savian said, catching Merrick’s eye in the rearview mirror. “It would have been easier to separate the trails had you mentioned that.”

  Merrick said nothing, his teeth grinding just a little.

  Tempest gazed at him with raised eyebrows, finally saying, “Well? Aren’t you going to protest that you don’t have a Beloved, and you don’t need one, want one, or intend to ever have one?”

  He unclenched his teeth. “No.”

  “Really?” He expected elation on her part, but was surprised when her brows pulled together in a little frown. “Why?”

  Does it matter? There are more important things to be discussed now, such as the possible motives of Carlo in kidnapping you. I wonder now if he really is Victor, or if he’s fronting for him.

  I would prefer to think my cousin isn’t a horrible murderer, and don’t think I don’t know that you’re changing the subject, because I can feel how uncomfortable you are at discussing relationships.

  “What were you doing in Nice?” he asked aloud in order to keep her from continuing along that particular conversational path.

  “Looking for you. Ellis wanted to see you, and I knew you’d like to meet him.”

  He sensed something in her, a little bubble of emotion that she acknowledged but pushed to the side.

  It was anger.

  Why was she angry at him? Why are you angry with me?

  Huh? Who said I was?

  I can feel your emotions just as you feel mine.

  She looked startled for a moment. I keep forgetting we are a two-way radio.

  Why were you angry with me enough to leave the safety of my home in order to find me? I arranged for everything you needed there.

  Again, the little bubble of anger rose in her. He was genuinely perplexed by it, and wanted to know what was triggering such a reaction when all he was doing was keeping her safe.

  It took her a few minutes to answer, and she glanced over her shoulder at Savian, who was engaged with his phone, looking up every few minutes to check the trail before returning to text messages. You know how I said I lived with a cult?

  Yes. Your father belonged to it, I believe.

  That’s right. Well, one of the things they were very big on was telling women what they could and couldn’t do. Mostly couldn’t, because they didn’t like us doing anything that came close to making us actual human beings rather than the pretty, brainless little childbearing dolls that they wanted.

  Merrick drove on, keeping his thoughts carefully to himself. He noted, however, the sense of anger was replaced by a deep sadness in Tempest.

  Even as an adult, every facet of my life was structured. I had times when I had to milk the goats, and times when I had to wash the clothes, and times when I had to be on my knees begging God for humility. I was never allowed to do anything off the schedule, or make a decision for myself, or, merciful deity of your choice, actually live life the way I wanted to.

  With a shock, he realized that she had viewed his actions in the same fashion she viewed those of the members of the cult, and he had to admit that when they were seen in that light, she was justified. He had taken away her choices, and given her parameters under which she could live, and no more.

  So when you dumped Kelso and me off at your house—

  “Dumped” is hardly the word.

  —I decided that I wasn’t going to go back to that sort of a life. These last few months have been wonderful, Merrick. I can decide what I want to eat for a meal. I can decide when to have the meal. I pick out the clothes I want to wear, and when I will wear them. And I decide where I will go, and what I will do. She slid him a sidelong look. Even a Beloved has a right to autonomy.

  Yes, she does, he agreed, enjoying her start of surprise.

  That’s why we decided to come to Nice, to see you. I’m sure you’re angry about that, but I will point out that at least I’ve seen Carlo, so we know he’s still in the area.

  I am angry about many things, but you making decisions for yourself is not one of them. Unless it endangers you, and then I reserve the right to feel a little testy.

  She giggled in his head. I’d never imagine you saying the word “testy.”

  I am a man of much depth, he said complacently, then added, “What will your friend do if Carlo discards him?”

  “Discards as in what? Throws out of the car?” She looked horrified at the thought. “Or thrown away because they killed him? You don’t think they killed him, do you? Galloping grape juice, what have I done? I was sure they wouldn’t kill him, but now—”

  “Calm yourself,” he interrupted, not liking the panic and guilt he saw in her eyes. “They have no reason to kill him. He is not an immortal, and he has no ties to me. They do not kill for the pleasure of it.”

  The image of his sister’s broken body rose in his mind, but he ignored the guilt that accompanied the memory. He couldn’t think now of how he had failed her. She was dead because he hadn’t kept her safe, and that was all there was to it. He had to keep the most important item uppermost in mind.

  Protecting Tempest.

  No, he corrected himself. Finding Victor was the most important thing. No one, not even Tempest, would be safe until Victor was located and imprisoned.

  “Oh, I sure hope so, because Ellis is a nice guy. You’d like him.” Her voice was leaching sadness and regret, making Merrick want to take her in his arms again. He wanted to make love to her until she forgot about the world, forgot about the drama in which she’d found herself, forgot about everything but him.

  He wanted to be the world to her.

  “What exactly has this Victor done, if you don’t mind me asking? I know the Revelation is bad news, but I haven’t heard anything about him specifically,” Savian asked, pulling his head in from where he’d been looking out the window at the trail.

  “He is directly responsible for the death of my sister, and twelve other Dark Ones over the last twenty years. The Horsemen were brought together ten years ago in order to combat the threat they pose to our kind.” Merrick kept his voice level despite the anger and sorrow that rose at not being able to save his sister.

  Tempest rested her hand on his leg, providing wordless comfort.

  “I’m so sorry,” Savian said, looking horrified. “I had no idea they were killing vampires, and for you to have lost a sister ... that’s just terrible.”

  “Are you sure Victor is the head of the organization?” Tempest asked.<
br />
  “Everything points to that, although it could be a code name rather than his actual name. That’s why it’s so vital for us to determine once and for all just what role your cousin has to play in the Revelation. Either he’s Victor, or he’s one of Victor’s henchmen. Or he’s a deliberate cover, intending to throw us off the scent of the real man behind it all.”

  Tempest murmured sympathetic things into his mind, allowing him to push aside the hot spike of revenge that always rose whenever he thought of his sister.

  It wasn’t long after that they came to a large city, and there, unfortunately, Savian lost the trail.

  “It’s not so much that it’s gone too faint to see,” he said after half an hour of running up one train platform and down another. The three now stood at the deserted end of one of the platforms. “It’s that it’s been dispersed by the large amount of foot traffic. Stirs up the air, you know, and makes all the sanguine particles spread around.”

  “Then we’ve lost him?” Tempest asked, her face pale with strain.

  Merrick didn’t like her stressed. He wanted her happy and giggling, and saying outrageous things into his head while she did the most amazing things to his body.

  “I’m afraid so. The best I can say is that he likely got on a train served by this platform. If you like, I can ask what trains have been through here in the last hour or so,” Savian offered.

  “That would be helpful,” Merrick said, hiding his frustration. He’d been so close to Victor, and yet once again the opportunity seemed to slip away.

  “I’m sorry,” Tempest said, her hand on his arm, instantly flooding him with warmth and understanding and concern. “I feel like this is partially my fault. If I hadn’t broken my phone, I could have seen your text, and you could have been after him immediately rather than being delayed.”

  “We were already tracking him; stopping to pick you up did not delay us any significant time, so you can cease feeling guilty.” Merrick fought the hunger that her nearness triggered. He reminded himself that he was a Horseman. He was a stranger to softer feelings, and had no intention of changing his ways now.