Blood Ties Omnibus

by Jennifer Armintrout

  He couldn’t have been very old when he’d been turned. Twenty-five at most. In sleep, his face was smooth and devoid of lines, unmarked by the volatile emotions that ruled him in wakefulness. His skin, though pale, stretched across a body hardened from years of physical labor. From what little I knew of the time he’d been born to, I guessed he’d worked hard as a human.

  This man is your sire. This man is the blood that pumps through your heart. I pressed a kiss to his lips. No matter how much I tried to hate him, something defeated the effort. The blood tie? Or my own, insane attraction to him that grew despite his cruelty and depravity?

  When I was near him, I wanted him. When he was out of my sight, I hated him. If I could just weed out my true emotions from those governed by the blood tie, I’d know how I felt. Maybe I’d be able to feel my own blood in my veins then, not just the scorching presence of his.

  One of his arms secured me at his side as though he were afraid I would bolt. The other lay across his chest. I reached for that hand, surprisingly elegant despite the lethally long nails that tipped each finger. I remembered what Nathan had said about vampires looking different as they aged. If I lived long enough, what would I become?

  I lifted his hand and wondered what I would see if I linked our hands the way he’d done before. If his defenses were down in sleep, would I be able to choose the direction of the visions? I laced my fingers with his and closed my eyes.

  Before the rushing current took me, his body thrashed against mine, as if he were in a nightmare. Then a red film washed over me and an unimaginable pain tore through my chest. I opened my mouth, or rather, Cyrus opened his mouth, and a scream of agony burst from his raw throat. “Father!”

  “Hold still, boy. Your brother didn’t carry on so!” When Cyrus opened his eyes, the face that belonged to the stern voice sneered down at me. Though his skin was weathered with age and the lines of a hard life, he bore a striking resemblance to my sire. Blood stained the front of his shirt and the ends of his long white hair. His hands were inside Cyrus’s chest, searching, pulling, ripping.

  In a dizzying second, the vision changed. The face before me morphed into that of a young woman, her body limp, her eyes wide but sightless. The searing pain in Cyrus’s chest began anew. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t move.

  Couldn’t pray.

  His father’s laugh echoed in his ear. Cyrus’s scream was harsh, his voice used up by his cries for mercy. A deafening roar propelled me out of the vision, and I sat up, panting, at the same time Cyrus woke from his dream.

  His features transformed in his rage. “Did you get a good look?”

  The Cyrus I knew was gone, replaced by the ruthless figure of John Doe. I cowered, and was ashamed of the motion. “I needed to know…” I had no idea how I would finish the sentence. “I needed to know how I really felt about you, and I thought I might get a clue by poking around in your head.” That wouldn’t leave me vulnerable to his manipulation or anything. My eyes searched the room, finally resting on the scar that divided his chest. “I wanted to see how you got that scar.”

  Wrong answer. He grabbed me by my shoulders and flung me from the bed. I hit the floor and skidded painfully, the soft carpet cutting like razors as it scraped my skin.

  “Get out!” He leapt from the bed and snatched his robe, angrily thrusting his arms into it.

  I stood, rubbing my tender knees. “Don’t be mad. It’s not like I—”

  “Did you hear me? I told you to get out!”

  He paced the floor like a caged animal. I thought he’d strike me, but each time he raised his hands they closed in frustrated fists and he dropped them to his side. Eventually, he gave up and stalked to the door. He called to the two guards who blocked it after he passed. “I’ll be in my study. See that I’m not disturbed.”

  Aching with physical pain and rejection, I pushed one of the guards aside. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to follow him,” I snapped when they protested. I told the truth. The sun would set in a matter of hours, and I had a meeting with Nathan. I’d need to be strong.

  Because I didn’t know what Nathan would do to me when he saw me.

  Fourteen

  An Uncomfortable Reunion

  T he guard sent to watch over Ziggy had fallen asleep at his post. I dismissed him coolly and took a blanket from my bed to tuck Ziggy in with.

  Fatigue penetrated me all the way to my bones, and I groaned when I saw the time on the clock on the mantel. I’d only get a few hours of sleep before I had to meet Nathan. And sleep would not come easily. I tossed and turned in the bed, agitated beyond my own nerves. Cyrus was still awake. I could feel his anger and his restlessness, but I didn’t take it to heart. Whatever he was upset about had less to do with me and more to do with what had been going on in that vision.

  I woke groggily from the little sleep I did manage to get and dressed quietly, wishing not to disturb Ziggy. As I passed through the parlor, I stopped to check on him. He didn’t look like a boy anymore. His exposure to Cyrus’s cruelty had wiped the last traces of childhood from him. If the thought broke my heart, I could only imagine how it would make Nathan feel. I made a conscious decision not to tell him what Cyrus had done.

  For the most part, the mansion was still asleep. I got the distinct impression that this wasn’t an “early to bed, early to rise” kind of place. A few guards scurried around, preparing the common rooms for the occupants who’d soon fill them.

  With a fearful glance at the study, I stepped furtively out the back door. A fresh blanket of snow covered the lawn. I tried not to think of how the hedge maze, frosted with shimmering crystals of ice, reminded me of The Shining. I was creeped out enough without the threat of Jack Nicholson jumping out at me.

  I reached out to Cyrus with my thoughts, hoping that I sent off an innocent “just going for a walk” vibe. But it was like hitting a brick wall with my mind. Cyrus was ignoring me.

  For a moment, his neglect stung me. Then I had the good sense to remember I didn’t want him to pay attention to what I was doing, anyway. I had enough to worry about without wondering if my sire would rip me to shreds for my betrayal when I returned.

  Not to mention the fact I had no idea whether Nathan had even received my message, and if he had, whether or not he would actually show up. If I got caught, I was a goner. I couldn’t even lie my way out of a parking ticket. What if Clarence had sold me out after all? He didn’t like vampires, period. Why should I have expected him to help me?

  I kept to the shadow of the wall. I was sure every step I took would be my last before I was finally discovered. My initial trepidation had mounted to full-blown fear by the time I reached the gate. My cover disappeared as the stone wall broke, and I gasped, startled.

  On the other side of the weathered iron bars, Nathan jumped at the sound.

  I hadn’t given much thought to what my reaction would be when I saw him. I guess I’d assumed I’d have to plead for my life or fight him, so I wasn’t prepared for the concern on his face or the way he gripped the bars like a man in a prison cell.

  “Where is he? Is he okay?” he asked, peering past me up the lawn.

  “He’s fine,” I assured him. “He’s just tired. He had a rough night.”

  Nathan’s jaw set as he spoke through tight lips. “I swear, Carrie, if anything happened to him—”

  “Hey!” I snapped. “Do you really think I’d hurt him?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  It stung too much to let it go. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  I started to walk away, but then I remembered Ziggy and my reason for meeting with Nathan in the first place. Before I could turn back, Nathan called my name, and the anguish in his voice cut me to the quick.

  “Please. I’ll do anything you want. Just get him out of there.” He reached through the bars as if to draw me back. “If anything happens to him…Carrie, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  I sighed wearily and went back to the gate. “Nothing is going
to happen to him. I’ve made sure of that.”

  Without my permission, my eyes flitted over the dark windows of Cyrus’s bedroom. I remembered my promise to be with him at dawn, and an unexpected shiver of desire raced up my spine. I turned back to Nathan, hoping he couldn’t sense my distress. “The problem is, this place is like Fort Knox. I don’t know how we’re going to get him out.”

  Nathan stared up at the mansion, rubbing his hands as if he was trying to warm them.

  “You’re dead. Aren’t they supposed to be cold?”

  His gaze never moved from the looming edifice. “I’m thinking.”

  “Tell me how that works out for you.” As I watched him study the house, I found myself wanting to touch him. Not from sexual attraction, although I knew at least one of us still felt it. This was an urge borne of homesickness. Seeing him made me feel as if I’d been on a long trip in a violent foreign country.

  “Why did you kick him out?” I asked quietly, and his eyes darted sharply back to me.

  “I didn’t kick him out. He left.”

  “He said you kicked him out.”

  “I reacted badly. There was some yelling. A lot of yelling. But I never told him to leave.” Nathan’s voice was thick with emotion. “And I damn sure wouldn’t have let him go if I knew he was coming here.”

  “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” But no matter what I said, it wouldn’t erase his regret. “He’s afraid you hate him.”

  “That’s stupid of him!”

  “Is it?” I planted my hands on my hips. “In case you didn’t notice, he was pretty embarrassed that you walked in on him like that. And all he got from you was judgment and the angry face!”

  For a moment, it appeared my words had penetrated his thick skull. Then he shook his head, swore and took a step back. “Why am I even talking to you? I should be jabbing a stake through this fence right now, after you ran off like that.”

  I’d almost forgotten my letter. “Ziggy gave you my message?”

  “Yeah.” His voice was cold and impersonal.

  “And?” I wrapped my fingers around the icy metal, hoping he’d touch my hand.

  It was a foolish hope. “What the fuck do you want me to say, Carrie? You made your decision.”

  “Then why are you talking to me?”

  He clenched his fists around the bars and gave the gate a hard shove. Then he kicked it and swore again. I looked frantically toward the house, sure that at any moment I’d see guards streaming down the lawn. But Nathan continued to rage. With a final, violent kick to the stone wall, he spun away from me. I took that as my cue. “Are you finished?”

  He limped back to the gate and nodded.

  “Fine. Then why are you talking to me?” I phrased the question in a softer voice than I had before.

  “Because you’re the only way I’m going to get Ziggy out of there alive.” When I didn’t respond, he reached into his back pocket. “Listen, I’ll cut you a deal—”

  “I don’t need money,” I said quickly.

  He gave me a melancholy smile. “Yeah, I see your boyfriend has a nice setup here.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” I reached for the folded paper that he passed through the bars. “What’s this?”

  “Information. I’m paying you for Ziggy. Do whatever you want with them.”

  I scanned the paper. “Nathan, these are battle plans.”

  “Do whatever you want with them,” he repeated. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t be here on the thirtieth.”

  I frowned at the page. “January thirtieth?”

  Nathan snorted. “Hasn’t he told you anything?”

  “No. There hasn’t really been time.”

  He laughed humorlessly. “I’ll bet.”

  “Not because of that.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. “We haven’t. Yet.”

  He shrugged. “I really don’t care. Look over those plans. You can find out what you need to from your sire. In the meantime, start thinking of how you can get Ziggy safely out of there. How can I contact you if I need to?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe through Clarence. He goes out every day. Food shopping.” I just hoped he’d relay the messages he received. He’d obviously helped me this time, since Nathan had shown up, but we hadn’t exactly become fast friends.

  “The guy who delivered your message? The one who lives with and works for Cyrus?” Nathan looked at me with disbelief. “How about if I want to talk to you, I’ll be right here, after sunset. Make it a habit to check every night.”

  “If I can get away.” It was sort of an agreement.

  He turned then, as if he was going to leave, and I called his name. The sound was desperate, almost pathetic as it passed my lips. I wanted to tell him why I stood on this side of the fence. I wanted him to know that the only reason he lived was because of the choice I’d made.

  Instead, I just stared, my mouth frozen open in shock at my sudden exclamation. He stared back, his expression hard as some indiscernible war raged behind his eyes.

  “Keep him safe, Carrie,” he said. Then he turned and walked quickly away.

  I went back to the house, numb from the temperature outside and the mood of our chilly encounter. Telling him what I’d done wouldn’t have accomplished anything. Nathan would have rushed into battle as if I were some princess trapped in a tower by an evil magician. Then I’d be in the awkward position of explaining that this damsel hadn’t exactly decided to be rescued.

  As for the evil magician, he stormed past the princess without a word when they crossed paths in the hallway outside their chambers.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I called after him, greeted only by the sound of his slamming door.

  Ziggy was already awake when I entered my quarters. Clothed in the pants he arrived in the night before, he leaned greedily over a bowl of cereal as Clarence looked on.

  “Hey. Did you see Nate?” Ziggy’s voice was light, though I could sense the desperate hope there.

  I cast a wary glance at Clarence. It seemed awfully imprudent of Ziggy to speak so freely in front of a guy we barely knew. “Y-yes.”

  With a frown, Ziggy jerked his thumb toward Clarence. “Don’t worry about him. He knows how to keep a secret, don’t you, Clarence?”

  “Like a dead man,” Clarence confirmed, but I still felt a little uneasy about what he knew.

  “What did he say?” Ziggy lifted the bowl from the marble-topped end table, and Clarence used the opportunity to wipe a condensation ring from the spot where it had rested.

  I chose my words carefully. “He wants you to go home.”

  Ziggy slurped the milk from his spoon and glared at the coaster Clarence had placed on the table. “Is he still pissed at me?”

  “He never was pissed.” I dropped beside him on the sofa. “Nathan loves you.”

  As unobtrusive as a ghost passing by, Clarence decanted a glass of blood and pressed it into my hand. I thanked him, but my attention was still on Ziggy. “Do you want to go home?”

  “Hmm…stay here with the crazy, sadistic vampire, or go home?” He paused. “To the cold, emotionally shut-off vampire who’ll freak out if I ever bring another guy home.”

  “I don’t think he will. He was just surprised. And I get the distinct impression he’s not so pleased that you’ve grown up. He would have acted the same if he’d caught you with a girl.” At least, I hoped he would have. Different generation or not, times changed and Nathan should have adapted. And he shouldn’t have cared in the first place.

  Ziggy mustered enough false enthusiasm to say, “Great. When do I leave?”

  Clarence coughed softly. “It’s not as simple as that.” Ziggy and I stared at the butler in silence. How could he possibly know the details of my conversation with Nathan? Were there spies?

  As if sensing my distrust, Clarence shook his head. “But maybe you don’t want an old man’s help.”

  He moved to collect the dishes, but Ziggy stopped him by placing a h
and on his arm. “What do you know?”

  Clarence gave me a frigid glare.

  “What? Do you want me to leave?” I folded my arms across my chest stubbornly. “This is my room, you know.”

  “I don’t want you to leave,” Clarence explained, a little condescendingly. “I want you to stop acting as if I’m going to turn sides all of a sudden.”

  “I’m sorry, but how am I supposed to trust someone who’s worked for Cyrus all this time? You are on his payroll,” I pointed out.

  Clarence seemed to roll this around in his mind for a moment. “I trust you a little bit, and you’re a vampire.”

  Considering his stance on vampires, that was a pretty bold statement. Pulling Nathan’s plans from my pocket, I motioned for Clarence to come closer. “Apparently, there’s going to be some kind of attack here on January thirtieth.”

  I realized I’d been so caught up in my new vampirehood that I hadn’t noticed Christmas had come and gone. I supposed it had saved me from a particularly miserable holiday. I couldn’t imagine snuggling up in front of the tree and listening to Bing Crosby records with Cyrus of all people.

  I swallowed the knot of loneliness that formed in my throat and forced a stoic expression. “Do you know anything about this, Clarence?”

  “I don’t know about any attack, but January thirtieth is the Vampire New Year.”

  “Vampire New Year?” Ziggy’s question echoed my own.

  Clarence nodded, his face growing more serious, a feat I’d thought impossible. “Every damn year. And they always throw a big, disgusting party.”

  “What happens at the party?”

  “A lot of people die.” Clarence removed Ziggy’s empty cereal bowl and placed it on the rolling service cart. “All except two of the pets will go on the ingredients list. The two Cyrus leaves off are the guests of honor.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad,” Ziggy interjected, his voice hoarse.

  “Unless you’ve been his guest of honor before,” I pointed out, and his expression grew dark. “Clarence, how does Cyrus pick these guests?”