Blood Ties Omnibus

by Jennifer Armintrout

  Cyrus lapsed into thoughtful silence again. Just when I was about to speak, he came to vicious life, pounding the dashboard with both fists. I jumped, accidentally colliding with the horn.

  He pounded his fists again. “He should have told me. I served him faithfully—he should have told me!”

  “He couldn’t tell you,” I said gently. “Then you would have known he was going to kill you.”

  My words had no impact. “No wonder he wanted me to give asylum to those disgusting bikers all those years back….”

  “Actually, it was only two months,” I corrected, but again, he didn’t seem to hear.

  “I should have known. I should have known he was planning something like this.” Cyrus shook his head, a look of pure disgust on his face. “I worshipped him. If he’d asked it of me, I would have let him take my soul.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have.” I remembered the way Cyrus had knelt beside his father’s casket as though it were a holy relic. It wasn’t a flattering truth I was about to give him, but it was truth at least. “You were too selfish to have done something like that.”

  “You’re probably right.” A thin smile crossed his lips. “You know, I was thinking of killing you today.”

  “I was pretty much counting on you trying.” I’d heard him mumbling to himself shortly after he’d begun the drive at sunup. So I’d kept the chloroform handy and hidden all the stakes in the van at the bottom of my sleeping bag.

  “You’re not going to scream and rave at me?” He chuckled. “That’s not the Carrie I remember.”

  “Well, the Carrie you remember has spent two months trying to get over you.” I nearly choked on my tongue at my Freudian slip. “I meant, trying to get over what you did to me. You don’t make me as nervous anymore.”

  “You’re trying to get over me?”

  Of course, he wouldn’t let it die without comment. No matter how much had changed during the past two months, it wasn’t enough to beat down his ego.

  “Keep in mind when I say that, I mean everything about you.” I paused and decided I wasn’t quite willing to dwell on the implications of that statement. “You know, the sick, horrible things you did to me. Your total disregard for humanity, mine included. Things like that.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that, as well.” His voice was suddenly husky, as though he was about to cry.

  Please, please don’t let him have an Oprah moment right here while I’m driving. I don’t think I could handle that.

  “That was, of course, until you accidentally murdered…” He turned his face away, so that when I looked at him, all I could see was his profile. “That was cheap. Of course, I can’t fully blame you for what happened to her.”

  “How generous.” I swallowed the lump of guilt that formed in my throat. “I am sorry. You know I don’t like to see innocent people hurt.”

  “But my father does.” Cyrus shook his head. “No matter. Let’s talk of something else, shall we?”

  “Like what? The weather?” Unbelievable. He was exactly like his old self, if he thought it was appropriate to dismiss the fact he’d laid her death on me. “You’re really an asshole.”

  “Carrie, I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes, grimacing.

  He hadn’t meant to apologize. And he regretted it. My breath came out with an angry, disbelieving grunt. “Well, don’t kick your ass over it or anything!”

  “That’s a very difficult thing for me to say to you! You rejected me!” His hand clenched to a fist on the armrest.

  I remembered too well his tendency toward violence, and I edged away in my seat a little. Fat lot of good it would do me, though, the centimeter shift I managed, and it only exacerbated the stiffness in my lower back. I forced my irritation—and nervousness—away. “In all fairness, you kind of killed your chances when you ripped out my heart.”

  “After you came into my home and betrayed me.” His voice dropped to a deadly murmur. “After you willingly came to my bed, plotted behind my back every moment I was inside you.”

  If I could have taken my hands off the wheel, I would have slapped him. “I knew humanity wouldn’t change you.”

  He looked startled and wounded by my comment. “You don’t know a damn thing about how I’ve changed.”

  I shook my head. “Cyrus, we shared a telepathic bond once. I saw exactly how deviant your mind is. You’re making an attempt, and a pretty lame one at that, to convince me everything I saw in your head was a lie?”

  “No, it wasn’t a lie.” He covered his face with his hands, a deceptive piece of body language that made him appear less dangerous. I knew better.

  Or I thought I did. He didn’t lash out again, and I could only attribute his sudden defeat to sleep deprivation. “You’re tired. You should climb in the back and sleep.”

  “No, I want to say this to you.” He rubbed his forehead with the thumb and first two fingers of one hand. “I was a monster when you knew me. I can’t change that. But I’m not that man anymore. I don’t know how else to explain it to you, except to say that she—Mouse—she did something to me that no one else ever did, and it made me different. Ah, I sound like a complete asshole.”

  And he did, a little. I’d never bought into the idea that a person could be changed by something as miraculous as a bond with another person, though Cyrus had come damn close to changing me for the worse when we were blood tied. There was a genuineness in his words, though, as though he actually believed he had changed. If he believes it, that’s enough to make it so, right?

  I swallowed, my tongue suddenly dry and thick in my mouth. “What did she do to you?” I hope it’s nothing disgusting. I couldn’t shake the suspicion that this outpouring of deep emotion might be a setup, another way for him to trap me into a gruesome shock. He’d always been so good at that.

  “She said she loved me.” He laughed a little, but there was only sorrow in the sound.

  He’d asked me once if I loved him. Well, actually, he’d demanded I say the words. But I’d refused. Guilt speared through me now. Was that really all it would have taken? If I had just kept lying to him, made him believe I’d loved him, could we have been happy together?

  I pushed the thought from my mind. Of course I’d been attracted to him. He’d been an attractive man. It hadn’t helped that we’d been linked through a powerful emotional, telepathic connection. But if I’d bent to his will that night, it wouldn’t have changed him for the better. It would have condemned me to life as a monster.

  You weren’t good enough to change him. The realization brought tears dangerously close to the surface, and I cleared my throat, blinking rapidly, to chase them away.

  If he noticed my distress at all, Cyrus didn’t say a thing. “That was the key. No one else, not my wives, not my brothers, not even my father, ever told me they loved me. I think I must have endeavored to make myself…unlovable, for lack of a better term. I was daring someone to prove my perception of myself wrong.”

  “I’m glad you know yourself so well.” Torn between remorse and rage, I kept my eyes on the road, not trusting myself to look at him.

  “I had a lot of time to think today.” The noise of his seat belt releasing indicated he was preparing to move into the back. “I’m going to go to sleep.”

  As he half stood, easing between the seats, he put his hand on my arm. His touched burned, just as I remembered. “I’m sorry for all the times I hurt you, Carrie. Whether or not you believe it, I needed you to hear it.”

  Pointedly, I removed his hand from my body. “I appreciate the sentiment.” I knew it sounded sarcastic, and I wanted to take the words back, because I had truly meant them. It did mean something to me to know he was sorry.

  I just couldn’t trust him yet.

  When I was sure Cyrus slept—I could tell by the atrocious snores only truly exhausted people produce—I took the cell phone from the glove compartment and dialed Max.

  It took him forever to answer, and for a moment I grew alarmed. Nothing shor
t of death or dismemberment could stop that man from answering a phone. Finally, he did pick up, obviously out of breath as he greeted me with a curt, “Harrison.”

  “What’s the matter?” My first thought was that something had happened to Nathan.

  Max’s thin laughter did nothing to assure me. “Nothing, nothing. I’m just…you know…getting ready to go out and fight the good fight.”

  “You’re supposed to be looking for Nathan, not fighting anyone.” I was used to Max acting nonchalant in dire circumstances, but he sounded strange, even for him. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

  He laughed again. There was a definite edge of nervousness in his tone. “Oh, yeah. I’m just, you know…So, are you there yet?”

  I’d almost forgotten why I’d called him in the first place. “Actually, I’m on the way back.”

  “With Cyrus?”

  “With Cyrus.” I glanced guiltily into the rearview mirror, afraid for a second I would see him there, eavesdropping. Then he exhaled loudly in his sleep, and I almost laughed with relief. “And he snores.”

  “Did he have any information?”

  I chewed my lip. There was so much to the story Max didn’t have to know. My gaze met its guilty twin in the rearview mirror. I wouldn’t be able to keep silent forever about the girl in the church, or the horrible jealousy she’d inspired in me. Today was not forever, though. I’d just give him the bare minimum he needed to keep his end of this operation afloat.

  “Carrie, are you still there?” He didn’t seem worried, but annoyed.

  Impatient much, Maximilian? “Sorry. Keeping my eyes on traffic.”

  He sighed loudly into the phone. “So, what’s the story?”

  I filled him in on what I had learned about the Soul Eater’s ritual.

  When I finished, Max said, “Well, I can tell you for sure we’re being watched.”

  “By who?” His Movement connections really came in handy.

  “The Soul Eater. I found a nest of his goons last night when I was tailing Nathan.” He yelped, then muttered under his breath, “Sorry. I pinched myself.”

  “Max, is someone there with you?” Maybe he thought I would be angry with him for, er, entertaining while Nathan was in danger. I was a little irked, but I wasn’t going to rip his head off. It was Max, after all. I wasn’t entirely sure he could exist on blood alone, he was so dependant on sex.

  “No, not at all.” The tone of his response was a little too bright. It wasn’t in sync with the question I’d asked.

  An evil smile twisted my lips. “Then you won’t have a problem admitting that you’re gay.”

  “What?” He laughed. “Why would I say something like that?”

  “If you don’t say it, I know you’re with a woman right now.” Max Harrison admitting he was gay? Never going to happen, especially if an attractive female could hear.

  “You’re being childish.”

  Yes, I was. “Say it. Say ‘I, Max Harrison, like dick.’ Say it.”

  “Fine!” He let out an annoyed breath. “I found the other assassin. She’s here right now.”

  “What?” The wheel slipped from my hand for a second and I scrambled to regain my hold before I drove us off the shoulder. “What’s she doing there?”

  “Calm down, she’s cool. She’s on our side, at least for now.” He cleared his throat. “The Movement didn’t fill her in entirely on her assignment, and she’s reassessed her priorities.”

  “You should, too,” I snapped. “I can’t believe you’re letting the enemy waltz around my house!”

  “She’s not the enemy. Christ, Carrie, haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said? Now that she knows what’s really going on, she’s going to help us!” Max shouted, and the phone crackled with feedback.

  “Yeah. She’s going to help herself to Nathan’s head after you lead her right to him!” I was glad miles of highway separated us, because I was mad enough to stake him.

  “Nathan attacked her!” Max followed his statement with a loud curse. “She barely survived. But she remembers the attack, and she knows he’s been possessed. And she knows the Soul Eater is involved.”

  Max wouldn’t fight so hard if he had a doubt as to her loyalty to our cause. And he wouldn’t let a woman sway his judgment. He might have been a womanizer, but he wasn’t stupid. But I wouldn’t give in to him right now. I was still too angry. “Fine. Tell me more about the Soul Eater.”

  “Not much more to tell. There were bodies everywhere, but no guards posted. They’ve been there awhile. I think they’re looking for Nathan, too.” He paused. “Listen, he was getting pretty close, but we chased him off. I’m thinking it’s probably not a good idea for him to be loose, if his big daddy is looking for him.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too. But what are we going to do? I mean, we can catch him, but how are we going to keep him?” I drummed the steering wheel with my fingertips.

  He snorted. “We could use the handcuffs I found in his bedroom. You perv.”

  “You snooped through our things, you deal with your disgust on your own time.” I was just glad Max wasn’t able to see my mortified blush as I thought of exactly what those handcuffs had been used for. The same kind of mortified blush I’d had the night Nathan had jokingly—but only by half—brought them home. A vampire who’d escaped police capture had been wearing them when he’d run into Nathan, who’d still been on Movement-training autopilot. After Nathan had staked the unfortunate jailbird, he’d retrieved the cuffs.

  “Have some respect for the dead, Nathan.”

  “Come on. I bet the dead, and the GRPD, would want to see these put to good use.”

  And boy, did we ever put them to good use.

  “Did I lose you?” Max’s voice startled me out of my steaming memories.

  I cleared my throat guiltily. “No, I’m here. It’s not a bad idea, catching him and locking him up. Just be careful. Don’t kill him. And don’t let what’s-her-name do it, either.”

  “No way I’m gonna let that happen.” He sounded certain.

  That was enough for me. “Okay. Just—”

  “Be careful?” He wasn’t mocking me. It was clear from his tone he knew exactly how much I depended on Nathan. “You know I will.”

  “Thank you, Max.”

  After we hung up and the sound of the road was the only thing to distract me from my situation, I relied on Max’s words as my life raft.

  It kept me from imagining Nathan’s death at the hands of the monster who’d created him.

  19

  Rescue

  T o Max, it seemed the best way to find Nathan was to retrace their search of the neighborhood they’d been in last night. As fast as possible.

  “Let’s go this way.” Without waiting for Bella’s answer, because he knew it would be a contradiction of what he’d just said, Max dove into the hedges.

  “Not that way!”

  He heard the gentle hum of an electric fence a moment before it bit into his ankles. “Fuck!”

  “It is your own fault,” she admonished, laughing as he stumbled backward and fell on his ass. “I could smell it.”

  “You can smell electric fences?” He scowled at her. If this had happened to anyone else, even her, he would have found it funny. Especially if it had been her.

  She shrugged. “Not anymore. Now I smell ozone and burned skin. Let me see.”

  He yanked his leg back as she knelt beside him. “It’s fine.”

  “I am sure it is.” She grasped his ankle. “Let me see.”

  “Fine.” He rolled up his pant leg, revealing the line of pink, puffy skin where the evil wire had attacked him.

  “That does not look as bad as I thought it would.” She seemed impressed.

  “I aim to please.” He didn’t realize the double meaning his words could take on until she glanced away, her olive skin tinged red.

  He closed his eyes and grimaced, as though his harshly drawn breath could suck the words back in. “I didn’t m
ean…”

  Standing, she acted as if her jacket needed serious adjusting. “I have his scent, but it is old. Maybe it is from last night?”

  Damn. Max thought things had gone well between them. After a good long romp on Nathan’s kitchen floor, they’d spent the day researching and trading not-so-subtle innuendos. Then he’d asked a simple question, and it had all fallen apart.

  “Hey, can werewolves become vampires and vice versa?” he’d asked, looking up from A Warlock’s Demon Compendium. The book was about two miles over the Dungeons and Dragons nerd county line, and he’d needed a break.

  Her face had gone pale, and she’d looked quickly down at the notebook Nathan used to keep track of local vampires. “I do not know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re a smart girl.” Max had stood and moved to join her in her nest of blankets on the floor, and she’d scooted away nervously. “Let’s pretend you bit me right now. Would I become a werewolf?”

  “I would have to bite you with intent.” She’d cleared her throat noisily. “That is, I would have to really want you to become a werewolf. But I do not know if it is possible to be both.”

  “Right. Okay. So, if I drained your blood and fed you mine, would you become a vampire?” A strand of hair had fallen into her eyes, and he’d reached to brush it back.

  She’d leaped about a foot into the air and slapped his hand away. “No! No, it is not possible. Do you have nothing better to do than pester me with foolish questions?”

  After that, she’d become worse than the coldhearted bitch who’d threatened to kill him a few nights previously. She’d become completely indifferent to him.

  She headed off down the sidewalk now, her arms hugged tight around her middle. He didn’t follow. She didn’t get far before she realized she was alone.

  “Are you coming, vampire?”