BloodStar

by Montoya, Cassidy

  He shook his head, heartbreak in his eyes as he watched Marley try to shake off the effects of fresh, young blood. She was in no condition to process anything. Just the way Anya wants it, he thought. He and Roman had been so wrong. This was more than an ill-conceived plot to be near him.

  Anya continued with her calculated and sharp words. She had to have rehearsed, and the delivery did the prep work justice. "She’ already proven her willingness, haven’t you Marley? But then again, she doesn’t do it for me like she does you." Anya walked to Marley, and grabbed her by the hair.

  Sabian lunged forward, but Anya threw up a hand in warning. She pulled Marley’s head back, and licked a drop of blood that had sluiced down Marley’s chin onto her throat. Marley moaned and staggered.

  "But, then again," said Anya, "young Marley might not be so inclined to please now that you’ve arrived. So influential and all. I guess we’ll just have to conduct some experiments—the will of the sire versus the will of the soul-mate. Now that would make for interesting science."

  Sabian was caught. He needed to survey the scene and figure out his options, but his eyes kept returning to Marley with the dead little girl heaped at her feet.

  "At first when you left," Anya continued, "I didn’t understand. Well, you know." She winked at him, a simple acknowledgement of her stalker years. "But over time, I finally appreciated your misery. It made sense, the feeding and fucking. It helps, right? I helped. And you know what Sabian?" She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side as though she were talking to a child. "I felt like it made us even closer, me finally understanding your pain. I feel like I can forgive you. Finally I can forgive you."

  "But Anya," Sabian said, "it didn’t make us closer. I was gone for a reason. There was no us to be closer. Don’t you get it? I left!" He was almost shouting now. "I left because you could never be what I needed you to be, because I already found what I needed in her!" Their eyes both flashed to Marley, who’d switched from bobblehead to tennis spectator. "You are living life according to a relationship that doesn’t exist, never did exist, at least not the way you think it did." His words were blatant, and true, and absolutely ineffective.

  "But Sabian, don’t you get it? I finally understand what you were going through. Losing you made it all make sense. And now that I have my own plaything, I can appreciate how physical companionship, even if it means nothing, can help you forget the one you love. Isn’t that what you saw in me? Didn’t I do the same for you?" She stopped, allowing the words to hang in the air for Sabian’s benefit, daring him to connect the dots and understand what she was saying.

  "What have you done?"

  "Me? Nothing. But your darling? She’s been exploring her adventurous side a bit. Well, that’s not exactly true, is it? This wouldn’t be the first time she let a man use her."

  "I’m not going to ask you again. What did you do?"

  "She’s Kindred now. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten." Anya shook her head in mock disappointment. "Do you remember when you first learned about your new skin? How it felt to be stroked by another, the fire inside? And don’t insult our intelligence. I’m proof of your explorations into what the flesh has to offer other than blood."

  Sabian knew, and yet didn’t know what Anya meant. "I wish I’d never given you the Dark Gift."

  "But you did give me the Gift, and now I’ve given it to her. I wonder if you’ve actually come around to realize what that means."

  Sabian was just about done with the games. Strategies rehearsed in his mind following his conversation with Roman were irrelevant now. With blatant fury in his voice, he asked, "What exactly do you want?"

  "I want you to suffer. I want you to mourn my blood even as it lives in her, and I cannot wait to see the look on your face when you learn how your Marley shared her gifts of ecstasy with him." She pointed an accusing finger at Sam, and finally Sabian looked past his drunken Marley, and saw Sam pulling a statue on the couch.

  Sabian’s thought process shut down for all intents and purposes as his rage propelled him toward Halac. So much came into focus now that he was fueled by fury instead of indecision and doubt. The other human was never Marley, it was Halac, Hunter in this life, plague in every other. Understanding was a tsunami that hit and tore his reserve apart in the devastation of the flood. Although his talents didn’t allow him to see exactly how events unfolded, they were enough to paint the picture with his imagination.

  How far had it gone? Was she drunk? Oh God, had Halac's blood colored her cheeks when she gave in to her needs? Did he touch her? Sabian could see it, and he saw it through the crimson of his fury. Halac’s hands on Marley’s skin, her flesh hot with the Hunter’s blood. There was passion; of course there was. Halac wasn’t some random human, he was mated to her almost as strongly as Sabian.

  Almost.

  He saw Halac’s lips on her pale, freckled chest, on her naval. Marley would have pleasured him with the force of a category five hurricane, and now Sabian would torture him with the same ferocity.

  He was about a yard from Halac, planning to sap his nectar and then snap his neck. Then he’d move to Anya. He would not snap her neck, but rip her entire head off. It was simple; so simple he didn’t know why he’d been fretting over it. The bottom line was she had to lose her head, above all else. He could deal with the other limbs and the pyre later, but her head would roll.

  If Anya’s intention was to push Sabian to a point of near insanity, it was mission accomplished, big-time. He was about to begin the carnage, spill blood all across this room beginning with Sam and ending with Anya, hands clawed and at the ready when he stopped dead in his tracks.

  He couldn't kill Anya, could he? If he killed Anya, Marley would die.

  Sabian’s fingers twitched, ready to go boa-constrictor on Halac’s neck until his eyes bulged. But there was something kind of more than met the eye here, and he had to get himself under control, examine the situation.

  How could he not have anticipated this? It was brilliant, far more than he would have given Anya credit for. She’d never shown promise as a strategist, but maybe that was because she was never properly motivated.

  He was afraid to look at Marley, knowing that she and Halac…no, he had to bar that image from his mind. He took a deep, calming breath and focused. His hands had found their way to his face, shielding his view of this impossible situation. Marley was on the other side of the barrier, finally close enough to touch, waiting for him to look her way. He could feel it, could look through her confused and drunken haze to what she really wanted.

  You, said her intent. I want you.

  But when he rummaged deeper, he felt something more. He felt a yearning for another, and Sabian knew all to well who the other was.

  It was possible that he could go ahead and do it, kill Anya and allow Marley to die, call in some favors so his soul would be released afterward. He believed they would come together again, but in that scenario he’d never know the full extent of the bliss because they would both be clueless, back to square one, and he wanted Marley with all his past memories intact so he could cherish what he’d waited so long for. He wanted eternity, not choppy lifetime after lifetime with no guarantees it would be him in her arms instead of Halac next time.

  And what about Halac? How the hell did he get involved?

  The truth came down like an anvil; Halac was here for him. He had endured God only knew what torture just to position himself here, in this moment, knowing Sabian couldn’t resist coming to Marley’s rescue. Was he working with Anya, or just acting maverick and playing any and all sides he needed to in order to make his kill? Sabian thought that sounded right, or at least closer to the truth than a Hunter aligning himself with a vampire known to be insane, unpredictable, a pariah even among her own kind.

  Why hadn't he just killed Halac the hundreds of times he'd had the chance? His fault, all of it.

  Sabian understood how human blood could blind a vampire to all reason and sense, inspire needs t
hat couldn’t be ignored. Kindred understood, Kindred knew. No forgiveness was necessary when one’s mate took another to bed—it was the way of the Kindred world. Anyone else, and Sabian wouldn’t have minded…not much, anyway. But Marley chose Halac based on more than bloodlust and physical desire; Sabian knew it. Her soul, although tilted toward his, was negotiable when it came to her two soul-mates.

  Would he be able to forgive her? Was it even an offense that warranted his anger? How could he be angry with her?

  Halac was a given. Halac had to die. Enough was enough.

  He turned it over and over in his mind. He would tear Halac to shreds, and that would release his outrage, no issue there. The problem was Anya. He needed to kill Anya. She was poison, plain and simple. But to kill Anya was to kill Marley. If Marley died, Sabian would find a way to follow.

  No matter how many ways he turned the puzzle pieces this way and that, everyone in the room would die tonight. He would just have to make peace with that.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  He finally looked Marley full in the face, needing to even though it scared the hell out of him. She was absolutely breathtaking. Tall, slender, and lethal, her eyes, the blackest shade of coal against her flawless skin, were captivating. For a second, he was almost lost to entrancement. Those eyes were begging for his help, and for his love. What he’d said to her remained; she was the only creature in existence that could entrance him.

  That was all he needed, a simple look into her eyes and his head was screwed on straight again. There was no force on the planet that could dissuade him from giving this woman everything he had to give, including his life, no matter what secret desires she kept locked up in her heart.

  Anya was smiling, taking in his expression with obvious satisfaction. She’d outsmarted him, bested her own sire. It was such a brilliant plan in its simplicity that it was no wonder he didn’t see it coming.

  All the agonizing over possibility, probability, guilt, remorse, the travel, the slaughter in New York. For what? He’d gotten exactly what he deserved. For as long as he could remember, Sabian wanted Marley as Kindred, and Anya wanted Sabian for her own. Occam’s Razor to a T. If he were Anya, he would have done the same thing—Embrace Marley so she could finally keep Sabian where she wanted with authority. Her threats now had teeth, and he could rain down no retribution. Ingenious! If he didn’t loathe her with all he was worth, he would have been proud.

  Her only mistake was underestimating him. He couldn’t blame her. He’d made it clear a thousand times that he would do anything to keep Marley safe, anything to be with her. If he were Anya, he probably would have counted on his acquiescence. But now, keeping to Occam’s Razor, there was an easier way. Kill them all, and start over in another lifetime. He was all but guaranteed to leave Anya’s soul behind for good, and he’d fought Halac for Marley before, usually won as a matter of fact. There was no reason things would be any different upon reawakening.

  So he turned his eyes once again to Marley, and pushed his intent at her as ferociously as he could. His burning eyes broadcast his crushing regret. She had to know he would do all he could to keep it from being painful for her, and that he loved her. God, if he could do it any other way, he would. He didn’t have enough room in his brain to accommodate the wretched guilt he felt. It was Hawaii all over again. She didn’t understand, and would die knowing he made the decision to allow it.

  Marley shook her head. It was a violent movement, a hybrid of her frustration and terror. She didn’t understand the nuances of vampire-to-vampire communication. She knew something bad was about to happen, that much was evident, and of course, she knew Sabian would let it come down. He saw it in her eyes.

  Sabian broke eye contact with Marley for a much less inspiring view. He locked eyes with Anya. A knowing smirk spread across her face.

  "For all the years we spent together, the only thing you ever saw in me was destruction. Was I not clever enough for you? Was it so hard to believe I had talents worth noticing? I see through you, and now it’s my turn to be disappointed. You plan is dripping off you. You mean to kill me tonight, don’t you?"

  "Yes. You die tonight, Anya."

  "Then so will she," Anya taunted.

  "It won’t be the first time, or the last. I’d rather she die than live forever filled with your pestilence."

  For the first time since she’d come through the door with the doomed child, Anya was taken off her guard, even if only for a moment. Sabian saw the shock, hurt and fury dance in her eyes.

  "But…but you can’t." When Sabian said nothing, she took a step toward him. "You’d let her die?"

  Anya’s voice was cracked and desperate, and just a little bit, Sabian felt for her, but still said nothing.

  "Then it’s your way," she said. "You’re more powerful. The BloodStar, right?" Her tone was bitter as vinegar and a thousand times more acidic. "Well, if I’m to die this night, I’ll have as much fun as I can before the lights go out."

  She streaked across the room to Sam, and bit into his breast, drawing blood in long and furious draughts. Anya was merciless, but Sabian would not allow her to take this pleasure from him. He was on her almost as quickly as she began. He grabbed Anya by the hair and literally ripped her from Sam, pulling flesh from the Hunter in the process. Blood was flowing freely from Halac’s chest, and Marley couldn’t stop herself from ghosting to his side, drawn by her drug.

  Anya laughed wildly, exposing bloody teeth. "You choose her over me? She's already replaced you. Look at her. Even now she wants the Hunter, not the BloodStar. Do you know how much of his blood she's taken?" She pointed a finger at the Hunter (who was busy making himself as small and inconspicuous as possible), and said, "You know how it must have felt for him? Of course you know what came next. Jesus, Sabian, open your eyes. They were together just before you got here. Isn’t that right, childe?"

  Marley froze in place, and then looked over to Sabian who only shook his head at her, saying with his eyes what he could not with his words: Do not answer that. I think I’ll die if you do.

  "Want to see them?" She turned to Marley, and said, "Do it."

  Marley’s eyes brimmed over in scarlet droplets, and shook her head no at her sire.

  More forceful this time, "Do it!" Anya’s hair was still gripped in Sabian’s hand, but she had Marley locked in her gaze, and ravished Marley’s fledgling psyche with the imperative, violated her, in fact. There was no way Marley was ignoring this command.

  Marley looked to Sam, took her index finger to his wound, and then licked the blood. Her eyes rolled back in her head and then she went to work unbuckling his pants. It turned into a slap fight as Sam put up a one handed resistance. The hand not engaged in combat was busy attending to his oozing wound. Marley was a zombie, eyes void and face expressionless, until she heard Sabian’s voice.

  "Marley, stop. Don’t move." This would end; it had to. He’d only delayed this long because he desperately wanted to find a way to be alone with Marley one more time before she slipped away from him.

  Anya jerked her head, releasing her hair from Sabian’s clutches. Her eyes scorched him with disgust, and then she looked at Marley again. "Go ahead. Show your precious Sabian how our pet loves it when you drink his blood. Tell him how it tastes, and then taste the other parts, the ones you were aching for when I walked in the door tonight."

  Sabian was once again amazed at how he could have spent so much time with this depraved creature. What had he been thinking? There was never any value in giving Anya the Embrace.

  Sabian spoke to Marley again, voice soft: "Marley, tune her out. She has her own frequency. We all do, and I know you can feel it. Tune hers out. Change the channel." He was sure it would work if he could just get Marley to push Anya out of her head with some conviction. It had worked for him with Roman all these centuries. It was as simple as that, never as magical as the BloodStar fan club made it out to be.

  Almost pleading, Marley said, "I can’t." She was torn apart insid
e, he could see that, a victim of her sire’s twisted will.

  "Then tell me goodbye. Tell me you love me, then tell me goodbye, because we all die tonight either way, and I’d rather our last moments together be spent in peace than haunted by the thought of you with him." Now it was Sabian’s turn to fight the percolating red tears bubbling over in his eyes.

  Marley turned away from all of them, and hugged herself. But Sabian saw it, the sideways glance filled with longing and lust and love…aimed at Halac. Yes, this was his fault, but he shared blame with his spawn, and it ended now. "Anya, you are the biggest mistake I ever made, and I’m going to undo that mistake right now."

  She laughed, throwing her head back and exposing her neck. "Here it is. Take my head! And then watch your precious Marley dry up and rot right in front of you. DO IT!"

  And so he did. Before she could articulate her last consonant, Sabian was on top of her, snarling and growling. He bit into her flesh, drew blood, and spat it in her face. Then he reached for her neck. She flinched backward, but not before he took Marley’s necklace and pendant in his grasp, and tore it from her throat. He shoved it into his pocket, grabbed Anya by the sides of her head, and twisted with all the force his supernatural strength could summon.

  Sabian’s hissing was drowned out by a horrible crunching sound, like the brittle sound of dried leaves. Anya was still laughing, but it came out as a gurgling jumble of noise. Sabian let go, forced her to her knees, and said, "Goodnight."

  He grabbed her under her chin, and literally ripped her head from her neck. Blood blacker than the night sky poured from the fountain of the stump, not in the rhythmic pumping of a heartbeat, but in one, long gush like a hijacked fire hydrant on a hot New York summer day. Just like the kids on that same New York street, Sabian felt like dancing in her blood, reveling in its thick release.