by Terry Spear
Slipping Tezra’s wrist daggers out from underneath his coat, he handed them to her.
Relieved and surprised, she raised her brows, then hurriedly strapped the wrist blades in place.
Daemon yanked the door open and kept Tezra by his side. Krustalus wasn’t in the bar, but several others were and some of them were attacking Voltan. The others waited patiently to get a piece of the action around the perimeter of the melee.
Like a choreographed dancer, the giant swept around, clanking his sword against his attackers’ weapons.
“Stay close,” Daemon said to Tezra, then swung his sword at a vampire. With one swift strike, he severed the vampire’s head from his neck.
Tezra dodged a vampire who tried to grab her wrist. Then she twisted around and hit him in the chest with her dagger. As soon as the blade reached his heart, he dissolved into ashes.
Only five of the vampires remained when Krustalus appeared. At once, she smelled her father’s cologne on the bastard and knew it was him. But he was taller than she had imagined, his hair darker, his eyes smaller, and his chin longer with a cleft the size of the Grand Canyon dividing it.
“Sorry,” he said, whipping out his sword, his black eyes sparkling with humor as he shifted his attention from Tezra to Daemon, then back to her again. “I had some other pressing business. Why don’t you come with me, dear Tezra, and Daemon and his friend can live?”
“Seems you and your thugs are outnumbered,” Tezra said as Voltan killed another.
Krustalus flexed his muscles and moved toward her with vampiric speed.
Daemon, who’d been fighting with two vampires, killed the one and left the other for Voltan, then moved in between Tezra and Krustalus to shield her.
“Why don’t you pick on someone more your own size, Krustalus?” Daemon sliced at the rogue, but Krustalus dodged the strike.
Krustalus’s thin lips turned up slightly, but his eyes remained ice cold while he slid out of the blade’s path again. “You want the huntress for your own, yet she is a dark huntress—a borderline renegade.” He lunged with his sword, but Daemon struck it with his own, knocking it out of his path.
“You have already taken several women for your own and it hasn’t worked out, from what I understand, my prince.”
What was that all about?
Tezra tried to get around the two of them to help, but Daemon effectively kept her behind him. Suddenly, four more vampires appeared and when one came for her and another tried to strike Daemon from behind, she wondered where the hell Daemon’s reinforcements were.
The vampire seized her arm, and she quickly cut it. “Behind you, Daemon,” she screamed.
But because he had to concentrate on the ancient in front of him, the vampire behind him stabbed him in the back.
“No!” Tezra finished off the one who tried to grab her and attacked the backstabber.
“The huntress will end up like the other women you have mated, Prince Daemon,” Krustalus taunted.
Daemon struck Krustalus’s sword hard with a clank. “So why would you want the lady?”
Tezra stabbed the vampire who’d struck Daemon but missed his heart. She swore under her breath and attacked him again.
“She will obey me. I’m not as soft as you,” Krustalus promised.
Suddenly, Atreides, Maison and a flurry of other vampires appeared in the bar. Krustalus gave a wicked smile. “Later, Tezra love. You and the others cannot always watch your back.” Then he vanished along with what was left of his vampire minions.
“I’m sorry.” Atreides grabbed Daemon’s arm when he looked ready to collapse. “Your telepathic communication was scrambled by Krustalus’s vampires. We weren’t sure where you were.”
Tezra sheathed her daggers and wrapped her arm around Daemon’s waist. “Are you going to be all right?”
“We go home,” he said in an annoyed tone of voice.
She wasn’t sure why he was mad, whether it was because he’d been injured, his brother and his people hadn’t shown up soon enough, he’d missed taking Krustalus down, or her concern about his welfare. But she was angry too.
She’d have given about anything to see the murderer of her parents turned into a pile of ashes.
“Daemon—” She didn’t get a chance to say anything more as he pulled her hard against his body and took her into the dark abyss.
***
After sifting through a vortex of blackness, Tezra found herself in the middle of Daemon’s bedroom again, dizzier this time. Voltan was speaking with Atreides and Maison downstairs, explaining what had happened in the bar.
“You shouldn’t have gone with me, Tezra.” Daemon collapsed on a chair, his look stern but pale.
Before she could respond, a tall, thin man dressed in a tux and carrying a black bag appeared next to him. Daemon greeted him with a bow of his head. “Doc.”
“I understand you’ve been injured, Prince Daemon.” The doctor quickly dispensed with the small talk and helped Daemon out of the chair, then removed his coat and shirt.
“A mere inconvenience.” Daemon cast an arrogant smile at the doctor.
The man considered the wound and gave his head a slight shake, but hurried to clean it.
“Will he be all right?” Tezra asked. She assumed Daemon would be well enough once his vampiric healing abilities took over, though his face was ice white, and he looked ready to crumple.
The physician cast her an inquisitive look, then dismissed her question and said to Daemon, “She’s not one of us. She’s…the huntress?”
“Special Crimes Unit investigator by occupation,” she corrected him.
His mouth curved up a little while he bandaged the wound, stemming the flow of blood. Afterwards, he gave Daemon a bag of blood and bowed his head. “The wound should heal within the next twenty-four hours, but I suggest you stick to much more passive pursuits until then.”
The doctor glanced at Tezra, then vanished.
“Are you all right, Daemon? Do you want to lie down?”
Still pale as death, he shook his head and sat back on the chair.
“All right, then.” If he wanted to pretend to be Mr. Macho, fine. She might as well get on with business. “About this matter with Krustalus—the chief has no proof that he murdered anyone. It’s just the chief’s word that Krustalus told him he was the killer. The vampire could easily deny it.”
“I assumed as much, but the next time I tell you what to do, you’ll do it.” His eyes narrowed and focused on hers.
Tezra ground her teeth and bit back what she wanted to say. Her sister’s dilemma was too important to quibble over whether Daemon thought he could control Tezra’s actions or not.
“One of Krustalus’s men could have spirited you away. I knew it was a setup, and next time I tell you to do something—”
She folded her arms across her chest and disregarded his scolding. “Listen, I don’t believe a perfect solution will ever avail itself. There’s only one way to deal with this. You have to turn me.”
Daemon shook his head.
Once she made up her mind—damn the consequences—there was nothing stopping her. She was not taking no for an answer from him or anyone else. She was bound to bring her sister out of the darkness—and if it meant being changed, fine. She’d do it. “If changing me doesn’t work, Daemon, there will be hell to pay.”
Daemon’s lips rose in a slow, lazy smile. Arrogance became him. “You presume too much.” Rising from the chair, he took her hands and kissed her lips, no pressure, gentle, unassuming.
She pulled away from him and crossed the floor to the patio doors. “You said I had no other option. Why did you bring it up, then?” Taking a settling breath, she looked out at the forest. “I have to free Katie from this nightmare.” When Daemon didn’t say anything, she said, “You must have changed dozens of humans before. Why not me?”
His eyes darkened.
She folded her arms. “Okay, you know my past. Tell me what went wrong when you chang
ed a woman.”
With one fluid move, he closed the gap between them. His mouth claimed hers, and his hands caressed her shoulders. She wanted to melt under his touch, but the issue of his turning her needed to be resolved. Dammit.
Grabbing his strong hands, she stepped back from his kisses. She was certain it was the bloodlust calling to him. “Tell me what happened.”
His jaw tightened. Keeping his teeth sheathed, or annoyed she’d question him?
“You have to tell me why you won’t turn me, or let someone else do it.”
He growled something foreign, then straightened his broad shoulders. “When a vampire turns a human, it has to be mutually agreed upon. The vampire seeks a mate; the human wishes the vampire to be his or her mate in return. The rogue vampire is the exception, turning a human either against her will or letting her flounder on her own afterwards. That behavior is condemned.”
He sat back on the chair, but she noticed his color already returning.
“I don’t want to be anyone’s mate. I just want to be turned. Well, not really, but I don’t feel I have any choice if I’m to help my sister.”
“Therein lies the problem. As a fledgling, you’d be at the mercy of rogues if you weren’t under a vampire’s protection as his or her mate. But the other difficulty is your reluctance to be turned. No decent vampire would change a human who didn’t wish it.”
She didn’t have a choice. Didn’t she already say so? And she didn’t want a mate! Attempting to get her annoyance under wraps, she drew close to him, crouched and circled one of his shirt buttons with her fingertip. “Not all vampires turn an individual and then make him or her their mate.”
“In those cases, the human pays the ancient vampire for his or her services for some mutually agreed upon consideration to make the mortal semi-immortal without the tie. They’re a…different class of vampires. Not totally accepted by most.”
“I don’t understand.”
Daemon shrugged. “Vampires as a class are not accepted by many so we tend to be…clannish. When a human is turned who is not mated for life with a vampire, they are considered outsiders. Occasionally, a vampire loses a mate and will accept an outsider for his or her own. But this rarely happens. The practice of turning humans for monetary gain or some other form of consideration and not taking them for mates isn’t well received. We…have rules we abide by. When humans are changed who don’t become part of our society, they avoid being governed by our rules and often become rogues.”
“So if they’re outsiders and vampires don’t want them, why couldn’t I be one of those? From what you’re saying, an ancient wouldn’t be interested in me.” Sounded like the best scenario to her. She wouldn’t be ruled by anyone then, and everyone would leave her alone. She’d have some new abilities that would give her some advantages, if she avoided thinking about the consequences. She could save her sister and—
Daemon let out his breath. “Hunters or huntresses rarely choose to become vampires, but in every known case, they’ve been selected as mates. You would not be considered an outsider because you’re a huntress, and a rogue ancient could very well desire you, Tezra.”
She was certain he wasn’t telling her the whole truth, but she didn’t know enough about this aspect of their society to know for sure what he wasn’t saying. “All right, so what happened when you turned a woman?”
His eyes burned with a flicker of flame, but then his gaze shifted to her fingers trailing down his shirt. “They wished to be turned, not the same as you. They each desired to be my mate.”
“They?”
He looked up at her. “Three. Three times I chanced taking a human mate. Three times it led to disaster.”
She let out her breath and touched his cheek with a tender stroke. “Maybe changing someone like me who doesn’t fit your perfect profile will work better. I won’t become a bad mate, because I won’t be yours anyway.”
He growled and caught her hand. “You’re not listening to me, Tezra. I wouldn’t change you, then allow you to roam freely without my protection.”
“Add controlling to your growing list of undesirable traits, up at the top with arrogant and impatient.”
He gave her a sinister smile.
“So, what happened to the others?” she asked, not wanting to hear she might have to fight a former mate of Daemon’s if she learned he changed Tezra and didn’t like it.
“Those of us who were turned by the plague centuries ago learned to live with the changes, or died trying. But vampire-turned humans sometimes become power hungry. Sometimes they turn into rogues.”
Her mouth dropped. She couldn’t imagine anyone Daemon had loved turning renegade. “The three women you changed?”
He nodded. “It doesn’t always work out.”
“You think I would be like that?” Her words were threaded with disbelief. Well, not that she was perfect but…
“You have a history of…disobedience.”
She narrowed her eyes, instantly undoing her attempt at placating him.
“You would have to obey me, and I know you wouldn’t.”
She clenched her teeth against saying anything that would make him change his mind, but the memories of living in the home under strict rules rushed back to her all at once. Obeying Daemon, being ruled by him, didn’t appeal, and she wasn’t about to allow it.
He lifted his gaze from her sweater to her eyes. “I wouldn’t take you for my mate.”
“Not your mate?” she asked, her voice elevating too much. She didn’t want to be his forever, but the notion he’d changed three women he wanted to live with for an eternity but wouldn’t change her hurt—putting it mildly. Which was crazy because she shouldn’t have cared one iota.
He shook his head. “I vowed never to take another.”
“What happened to the other three?”
“Dead. Rogues are terminated. Either by hunters or vampires. Though in the case of newly turned vampires, the one expected to do the job is the one who turned them.”
“You did it?” she asked, half whispering the question.
“I should have realized they couldn’t handle the change. I should never have turned them.”
Reaching up, she untied the leather strap holding his hair back. The satiny strands fell free and caressed his shoulders like she wanted to. “I won’t become a rogue.”
His eyes darkened. “You want to kill Krustalus with or without proof he’s the murderer.”
She combed her fingers through Daemon’s dark hair, and his eyes clouded with desire. “I’m not like the other women,” she mouthed against his lips. “I don’t want power, or immortality or anything but to help my sister.”
“You’re already a borderline rogue, Tezra.” He rose to his feet, placed his hands on her shoulder and kissed her throat, stealing her breath. “Everything about you warns me to take a step back and keep my distance.” He pulled away, his eyes clouded with lust. “We’re going to have to find another way.”
“Add pig-headed to your list of foibles,” she growled, glowering at him.
He studied her, his face expressionless.
“Fine, just fine. Take me back to see my sister. I’ll visit with her for another hour like I normally do, and then…well, then we’re going to discuss this some more. Just because you have some mating phobia, when I’ve already said I don’t want to be your mate, well, that’s your problem. And dammit all, I’m not a rogue, and I wouldn’t become a rogue. Well, sometimes I get pretty pissed off, but doesn’t everybody? Hell, of course everyone does occasionally. It doesn’t mean—”
Daemon took her hand and pulled her close, his touch tender. Her eyes moistened. His mouth covered hers, and she leaned into his kiss, cherished the feel of his silky skin against hers, the heat of his body, the arousal she’d stirred.
“I’m sorry, Tezra,” he said.
Before she could react to his making her feel small and unwanted, he transported her to Redding Hospital.
The blacknes
s dissipated, and she was momentarily disoriented, her stomach still reeling with the vampiric travel, then she realized she stood before her sister’s door. Voltan stood behind them, ever on guard. Letting out her breath and still peeved with Daemon, Tezra grabbed the knob and opened the door.
She expected to see her sister staring into space as she usually did when Tezra visited her in the evenings before one of the staff put Katie to bed, New Age music softly playing on her CD player. When Tezra found the sitting room empty and deathly quiet, panic seized her. She dashed into the adjoining bedroom, but found no sign of Katie. Nothing was out of place. The snow white bedcover was undisturbed. The white petal roses tinged with a hint of pink she’d brought Katie the day before fluttered under the heating vent, perfuming the air with their tea-scented fragrance. The plastic chair still sat next to the bed where Tezra often read to Katie at bedtime. Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Only Katie’s absence.
A new trickle of dread wormed its way down Tezra’s spine. Attempting to squash the chill spreading through her, she hoped that maybe one of the staff had taken Katie to the common room to be with other residents. But Katie cringed in crowds, and Tezra was certain her sister’s behavior hadn’t miraculously changed within a couple of hours.
Tezra ran out of the room and into the hall, trying to sense if she could feel her sister’s presence anywhere. Daemon shadowed her, and Voltan’s heavy footfall wasn’t far behind.
“What’s wrong, Tezra?” Daemon reached for her hand.
She wiped away tears, hating herself for getting emotional, likely over nothing. She couldn’t sense Katie anywhere. “I’m afraid Katie’s left the building. I’ll die if Krustalus has taken her.”
She grabbed Daemon’s hand and hauled him with her, maneuvering down the labyrinth of halls past a tennis court-sized cafeteria filled with white plastic chairs and laminated tables.
She pulled him into a large room, where several residents sat playing cards or watched television from a half ring of white vinyl couches. Katie wasn’t among them.
Tezra’s head pounded. “Nobody else would have taken her.” Whipping around, she headed for the administrative office to speak to the woman in charge, Mrs. Wither, an unsmiling middle-aged woman who Tezra felt should have retired years ago.