by Terry Spear
Grunting, he loosened his grip.
Grave mistake on his part.
She twisted around and saw the tallest vampire she’d ever encountered, topping Daemon by several inches. With heated blue eyes and extended white fangs that looked like they’d never touched an ounce of coffee, he was the first vampire she’d seen wearing a buzz haircut. Dressed in a black leather jacket, padded vest, boots and leather pants, he seemed as shielded as a knight in chain mail.
His unusual appearance startled her so, she stared at him, slack-jawed.
Grave mistake on her part.
Seizing her shoulders, he slammed her back against the glass patio door, sending a shard of pain slicing down her spine.
Unsheathing her sword, she screamed telepathically at Daemon, the bastard, for leaving her. The vampire giant was too close for her to swing her sword to any great advantage. With the glass pressed hard against her back, she couldn’t move her arm up enough to thrust. Despite lack of maneuverability, she finally managed to slice at the ancient vampire’s side. With her free hand, she shoved his massive chin up so he couldn’t bite her.
A losing battle. So much bigger than her and an ancient male, the creature quickly wore her down. Her arm shook while she tried to hold his face away. She slashed the sword again at his waist only to make negligible cuts in his jacket.
Pressing closer with his extended canines, he threatened to rip out her throat. His breath smelled of iron, of blood—he’d recently fed.
Unable to free herself, she struck him again with her sword. Then to her horror, he released her shoulders and grabbed her face. He turned her chin to the side and licked her neck.
The torture before the bite.
Daemon suddenly appeared next to Tezra and yanked the sword out of her hand. “Dammit, Voltan. What the hell’s going on? You’re supposed to be protecting her.”
This giant-sized oaf was supposed to protect her? She couldn’t stop trembling, and if she had her sword back, she would make short work of Daemon for leaving her with this gargantuan vampire who was about to kill her.
“Well?” Daemon’s face darkened with anger.
Voltan looked back at Tezra. “She would have broken your patio door, Prince Daemon. I merely prevented it.” He bowed his head to Daemon, then he lifted thick, shaggy brows and eyed Tezra with disparagement. “She needs a tighter leash. Do you wish me to confine her to the dungeon?”
She fisted her hands at her waist. This vampire was even more conceited than Daemon, if that were possible.
“No, I don’t want her in the wine cellar, for now.” Daemon examined the sword’s razor sharp blade. “Where did she get the hunter’s weapon?”
Gladdened she’d had enough foresight to hide the other sword, she smiled inwardly.
“When I found her trying to break out, she already possessed the sword. Didn’t your brother first take her into custody?”
“Yes, but Atreides should have disarmed her. Who brought her to him? Her hunter friend?”
Daemon faced Tezra, his dark eyes nearly black, studying her as if trying to learn the truth through reading her mind. All he’d find was an impenetrable wall.
“She didn’t have a sword when I brought her here, so her bodyguard was not as solidly under Atreides’s control as my brother thought.” Daemon glanced around the room, then motioned to the bathroom. “Her suitcase. Check it. Make sure she has no more weapons.”
As if she’d be dumb enough to leave one in there.
Voltan stalked into the bathroom. “My lord, the wench has made a mess of your bathroom. Water everywhere.”
Daemon reached out to touch her cheek. “You smell of peaches, Tezra.”
Furrowing her brow, she took a step out of his reach. Before she could make a catty remark about his choice in shampoo fragrances, he grabbed her wrist. “You haven’t eaten.”
Her teeth clenched as she tried to yank away from him. “Neither have you.”
“You’re right.” His eyes darkened, he watched her like a vampire desirous of a quick fix would, intent on willing a human to offer blood in exchange for sexual pleasure. “I’m afraid you’ve spoiled my appetite.”
She stopped struggling. “What the hell does that mean?” Yet she had an inkling. He wanted her blood, but he’d better not even think such a thing.
Drawers and cabinets opened and shut in the bathroom.
Daemon broke the intense eye contact between them and turned his focus on the bathroom. “Discover anything, Voltan?”
His guard walked back into the bedroom and shook his head. “Nothing, my lord.”
“Find my brother. Tell him I need to see him and Maison in an hour.”
Voltan bowed and still hovered a foot taller than her. “Yes, my lord.” After casting Tezra a disdainful look, he vanished.
Daemon pulled her close, then took her into the whirling blackness that enveloped those who traveled in the way of the vampire. They materialized this time in an oversized kitchen that seemed to have two of everything: stoves, fridges, microwaves and miles of black slate counters.
When he released her, she grabbed an edge of the island to steady herself. “You and who else eat here? The whole vampire clan of Oregon?”
An almost imperceptible smile touched his lips while he reached into one of the fridges. “We have celebrations here from time to time. Don’t you like to cook?”
Her brows rose. “Don’t get domestic on me. Where did you go? Why did you leave me alone with that gigantic ape?”
Daemon lifted his hand to silence her.
“I’m not one of your courtiers. Why didn’t you tell me you were the reigning Prince of the Americas?”
“In response to your question about the gigantic ape, Voltan is one of my most loyal friends. Saved my life countless times before we fell to the plague. Once our genetics were mutated by the virus, he rescued me in a number of skirmishes until we were no longer fledglings. Maison and Atreides had other business to attend to. They cannot always—”
“Babysit me?”
“You’re way too much of a woman for me to take that comment seriously. Salmon?”
“Why haven’t you fed? Really?”
“I told you.” He put the fish in a pan when she didn’t answer his question. “You’ve spoiled me for anyone else.”
“You would have to taste my blood, to…” She touched her lip. “How did I bite my lip?” Her voice shook. “You didn’t…”
“I didn’t suck, if that’s what’s bothering you. I stopped the bleeding.”
“You shouldn’t have.” She was certain her blood couldn’t have made him lose his appetite for anyone else’s, but the idea he had tasted hers at all made her uneasy. “Why haven’t you fed for some time, anyway?”
“The killings. How can a vampire look humans in the eye without them worrying he or she might be the serial killer? All it takes is one to damage our reputation. I vowed to limit my feeding as much as possible until this matter is cleared up.”
“But you can’t. Not forever.”
“Do you have so little faith in me? I will discover who the killer is shortly.” He began to fry the salmon. “Spinach?”
She twisted her mouth in thought, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “Where did you go?”
“To see Krustalus. But he did not show.” Daemon’s jaw ticked.
“I told you he was a bastard.”
His expression dark, he didn’t say a word. After a few minutes, he set the food on the table.
“I want to see the tissue samples you stole.” She sat at the dining room table, big enough to seat twelve.
“There’s a way to deal with this situation.” Daemon sat opposite her.
“Taking down Krustalus?”
“No. This has to do with your sister.”
She narrowed her eyes. Bargaining with a vampire—especially one who was holding her hostage and seemed to want her for more than a quick taste of her blood—couldn’t be a good thing. “Go on.”
Tezra’s blood sizzled. “Turning her would violate both your laws and ours. Which is why your brother will be in big trouble if the SCU learns he tried to turn Bernard without his approval.”
“As far as Bernard is concerned, he’s been released. Besides, he already had vampiric roots.”
“What?” Tezra’s mind raced, her thoughts flooded with memories. She didn’t recall any instance that would indicate Bernard had vampire family ties. “You’re wrong.”
“You know how the SCU feels if they learn any of their members has vampire genealogy. Where would his loyalties lie if it came to a question of family over duty?”
“I-I don’t believe you.”
“Bernard hid his secret well, but Maison knew his maternal grandfather—a vampire. He’d had a love affair with a woman, Bernard’s grandmother, but the vampire died at the hands of another before he could turn his lover.”
“Bernard’s telepathic,” she said under her breath. “I thought he had the ability because your brother had turned him.”
“No. Bernard hid this fact from you and everyone else he knew. He couldn’t risk having anyone dig into his family ties to learn why he had telepathic abilities—because he was of mixed heritage. In your case, I’ve discovered your deceased aunt was a telepath, and that’s why you have the ability.”
“You’ve been investigating me?” She hated how shrill her voice sounded.
He gave her a mysterious smile. “What if you’d had vampiric roots as well? One never knows, now, does one?” He ate another bite of his salmon.
Her fork clattered to the plate, and she clenched her fists. “You can’t turn my sister.”
“I’m not saying anyone should turn her, only that it would be a way for someone to shield her mind from the trauma. If her thoughts could be controlled, the painful memories hidden, maybe you could reach her telepathically and she could return to our world.”
“I can’t do away with the emotional injuries she’s sustained. And I can’t contact her telepathically. I can only speak with someone who has telepathic abilities. Though I’ve tried to reach her mind, to learn what she’s thinking, I can’t. Not with the way she’s been traumatized. Her thoughts are nonsensical, useless or totally blanked out.”
“Since you are her sister, she would more than likely open her mind to you. But you need to shield her from the horrors that paralyze her and allow her to see who committed the crimes.”
Tezra frowned. “But I told you I can’t do that.”
He didn’t respond, the look in his eyes unfathomable, the expression on his face formidable.
Her mind swirled as she considered what he was thinking. Then it dawned on her. “Oh, no, no, no.” She waved her hand at him. “You would have to turn me into a vampiress!” She glared at him. She hated him for suggesting such a thing, yet she realized his plan could mean the difference in a living death or real life for her sister. Her throat clogged with tears.
“As a vampiress you would be able to control her thoughts to a degree. To free her from the trauma. It’s the only way I know to bring her out of the darkness.”
She’d always sworn she’d do anything for her sister, anything to give her life back. Now she had the opportunity? A life for a life?
She swallowed hard. It was only fair, since it was her folly that had caused her sister’s suffering and their parents’ death.
“There’s something else.”
“What?” Tezra asked, her voice hollow. She didn’t want to become a vampire, not in her worst nightmares, but for her sister…
“If your sister is able to speak again, she’d be able to testify in front of the SCU High Court and tell them the name of the vampire who killed your parents. Justice would prevail.”
“What about the chief? He said Krustalus was the killer.”
“And you trust him?”
“I have to speak with him, learn how he knows.” Then a distasteful thought flickered across her mind. Wouldn’t Krustalus be surprised if she came after him with a set of fangs? She rubbed her temple. If she didn’t rein in her darker side, she’d be no better than the murdering vampire.
Glowering at Daemon, she wasn’t sure who she was madder at—him for suggesting she be turned, or herself for getting into the predicament she was in by taunting Krustalus so long ago. “I suppose you’d be the one to turn me.”
Daemon leaned back in his chair. “I no more want to change you than you want to be turned.”
After the way he’d acted toward her, like he wanted to taste every inch of her, she didn’t believe him for a second, yet his words fed into her insecurities. No one wanted to risk being with her, not even a blasted vampire, once he learned she’d been instrumental in her parents’ deaths.
“Who then? Your brother? That beast you called Voltan? Maison?”
“No one. It was just a thought.” Daemon finished his salmon.
The vampire was so infuriating, Tezra bit back the urge to slug him. “Why the hell did you bring it up then?”
“It was an option. But…” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t work.”
“Why did you say it would work then, if it wouldn’t?”
“I doubt it’s ever been tried before. Beyond that, the matter of turning you isn’t a good idea.” He reached for her plate. “Done with your food?”
“Turning me isn’t a good idea, why?” Not that she wanted to be turned, but what did he think? That she’d make a lousy vampiress? That being with her was too risky?
He grabbed her wrist just as she sensed a vampire lurking near the house. “You’ll return to the bedroom, then I must take care of other business.”
Chapter Six
Tezra attempted to jerk free from Daemon’s grip, but he moved her in his vampiric way before he released her in his bedroom again.
“You know you’re infuriatingly controlling, Daemon. Don’t you ever drag me off like that again. And what the hell do you mean by saying turning me wouldn’t be a good idea?”
The fire in her emerald eyes, and her words, amused him. He gave her a sinister smirk. “So now you want to be turned?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s why it wouldn’t work.” Daemon sensed the vampire who had arrived had vanished again and assumed Krustalus had his own people checking out his safeguards, looking for weak links, a place that would afford him the opportunity to get to Tezra. Daemon opened the patio door and motioned for her to join him on the balcony for some fresh air. Her skin had become so pale, he was certain his suggestion to turn her was making her ill, which hadn’t been his intention.
No matter how much he’d thought about it, he couldn’t come up with a better solution. Except he’d vowed never to turn another woman for as long as he lived. Despite this, he couldn’t allow anyone else to change her, to control her or to force her to be his mate. On the other hand, he assumed the guilt she felt concerning her sister would never be appeased until she set her sister free and the SCU found her parents’ murderer accountable.
Which meant Daemon was damned if he helped her and damned if he didn’t.
“If you turned me, what would the consequences be for you?” she asked softly, looking out at the vista.
Her question stunned him. He understood her agonizing over her sister, the killer, the effects being turned would have on her emotionally and physically. Not in a millennium would he think she’d be concerned about the impact it would have on him.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
She looked at him with a questioning gaze. “Except in Bernard’s case, I’ve heard vampires would rather die than turn a member of the SCU who targets vampire renegades.”
“True.” Daemon wasn’t going to deny it.
“Then your people wouldn’t be happy with you.”
Personally, there was mor
e at stake for him than that. “Changing you isn’t feasible.” He rested his arms against the railing and looked in the direction of the evergreen forest that framed his backyard, the peace and tranquility only an illusion. Beyond the forest he knew renegade vampires were planning some kind of mischief. “I’ll find the evidence you need and take care of Krustalus.”
“What about my sister?”
“When I take Krustalus into custody, she’ll be able to verify it’s him and seeing him as a menace no longer, maybe she’ll get well.”
“Renegade vampires can’t be taken into custody. They’d just, poof, vanish. And if you terminated Krustalus first, he’d be a pile of ashes, and there would be nothing left for Katie to identify.” She shook her head. “In any event, she’s been traumatized enough. It wouldn’t work. And you know it.”
He knew it, and that was the point he was trying to make. He couldn’t think of any other way to deal with Katie’s problem except to change Tezra. Yet it wasn’t a sure solution either. What if a vampiric Tezra still couldn’t reach Katie?
Tezra paced, silent, chewing her bottom lip.
The thought of licking her lip came rushing back to mind. But when he sensed another vampire’s approach, he pulled her into the house and shut the door.
She folded her arms. “If I agree to be turned, I won’t be forced into being your mate or anybody else’s.”
Not about to give an inch on this, Daemon stood taller. “Living the life of a vampire can be tenuous at best. Some vampires prey on the fledglings, which is what you’d be for a good century. I wouldn’t turn you then leave you to fend for yourself. You’d have to be…hell, what am I saying? I’m not turning you. End of discussion.”
She raised her brows. “Fine. Go about your business, why don’t you? And while you’re at it, I’ll look at the tissue samples you stole.”
He couldn’t fathom what she was up to, but her words reminded him of his brother when he was bound and determined to do something Daemon didn’t agree with. Speaking with an ancient authority, he offered no room for argument, simply stating, “You won’t be turned.”
He transported himself to the greatroom, then slipped her sword into the hidden panel next to the fireplace. He would protect her, help her, but he would not allow her to be another vampire’s mate.