Called By Blood fb-1

by Evie Byrne

  "Mikhail oversees our people and protects our territory." He took a deep, rattling breath. "Our feeding grounds. From other vamps."

  Helena puzzled that one out, and didn't like what she came up with. "Like ranchers protecting your stock?"

  He didn't seem to pick up on the distaste in her voice. Instead he considered the question. "Sort of. No one feeds on our territory without our permission. All feeding has to be on the down low. It's how we go unnoticed. Mikhail enforces these rules."

  "And if someone breaks your rules?"

  Alex glanced up at her. "Do you really want to know all this right now?"

  "No." The less she knew the better. Less fodder for nightmares. "I really wish you would have told me first. What you were. Before we slept together."

  He nodded. "You should not have found out this way. I don't know how to make it better."

  His eyes were still Alex's. That was the worst of it.

  "It's just that I've only known you for one day, really. And I don't understand what all this means. My reality is not the same as it used to be, and I really want the old one back." Her voice wavered as she spoke, but she managed not to cry.

  Alex was silent a long while, then he said, "I feel better tonight. It's time I returned your basement to you. Mikhail can't feed me forever. So I'll go back home where it's easier for me to…um, find something to eat. I can't…it's harder in a strange town."

  Helena squirmed as much as him while he spoke, wondering what gory details he was skipping over when he spoke of eating. "You're leaving?"

  A little whistling sound escaped him. A ghost of a snort. "You want me to stay?"

  Not really, no. She couldn't say that aloud because she felt sorry for him, so she said nothing.

  He bent what was left of his face into a crooked smile, showing way too many teeth. "You need time to absorb this. I need time to heal."

  Despite herself, she let him see her shoulders sag in relief.

  Mikhail stepped in between them, materializing out of the shadows of the basement. She stifled a squeak of surprise.

  Wincing, Alex craned his neck backward to look his brother in the face. Helena glanced between them, perceiving but not understanding a hint of threat in the air. Mikhail said, very soft, "You're not going anywhere, Alexander Ivanovitch."

  He turned to her, cold and courtly as usual. "We must beg your hospitality a little longer."

  Chapter 6

  "Will you excuse us, Helena?" Alex fought to keep his voice steady. Helena wasted no time in taking herself upstairs. As soon as he heard the door close, he said to his brother, "Like hell I'm staying."

  Mikhail spun on his heel and began to stuff the few things he'd brought with him into his bag. "It's time I left. But you've tasted her. For you, there's no going back."

  Alex stared at him in disbelief. He couldn't be serious. "You're leaving me here. Alone. Like this."

  "Little brother, I'm leaving you and I'm forbidding Vamp Air to take you as passenger without my permission."

  Vamp Air was what they called the private charter service that a handful of vamp families shared, but in which the Faustin family held a controlling interest. Regular commercial air travel made their kind nervous, what with the every present threat of layovers and delays. Vamp Air planes came with special fittings on the windows and sympathetic, highly paid human crews.

  To escape this godforsaken state, Alex would break open his piggy bank and charter his own plane and pray to hell the pilot was trustworthy. But he was so weak he couldn't afford the slightest bit of exposure. And he looked like Freddy Kruger.

  "You asshole."

  "I know you had no choice, but still, you drank from her. You will taste nothing but dust and ashes until you make her yours. You know this."

  Mikhail didn't know half of it. Helena was not going to accept this. Alex wanted to hug himself and rock against the horror of it.

  "Misha, I can't stay here. It's breaking her. Can't you see that? She can't even look at me without twitching. All she does is scrub the floors. She's not sleeping, either. Her dreams are a mess."

  Mikhail squatted in front of Alex so he could fix him with a hard look. "Why are you hearing her dreams? You've listened to her blood? You've started the bonding?" Mikhail's hands shot out as if he intended to throttle him, but he stopped himself just in time.

  "You perfect idiot." He lowered his hands. "You tasted her even before you were burnt. Knowing the story of Roland. Knowing what happened to Gregor. I can't even feel sorry for you now."

  Out of pride alone, Alex kept hold of Mikhail's gaze. Yes, he was an idiot. That was obvious or he wouldn't be sitting on a mildew-afflicted sleeping bag in a suburban basement shedding skin while his bride was upstairs having a nervous breakdown.

  Mikhail wasn't mated so it was easy for him to stand in judgment. He didn't know what it was like to hold his destined wife in his arms. He didn't know how funny and sweet Helena was, how she'd yielded under his hands from the first moment, how perfectly their bodies fit together. It had been easy enough that ecstatic first night to believe they would be together forever. Easy enough to take her blood as an act of faith.

  He'd screwed up. Helena was freaking out for good reason. And that was precisely why he had to get the hell away and give her some space.

  Mikhail cocked his head at Alex, his eyes narrowing to pale slits. "You think you'll make yourself pretty again and return to court her as if nothing has happened?" He gave a short bark of laughter. "We are monsters, Alex. You and Gregor pretend we are not, but your little human sees the truth."

  "And that truth is too much for her! Goddamn it. This is not all about me." Alex pushed to his feet. Tears for Helena welled in his eyes and spilled like acid over his raw skin. The pain of it brought even more tears to his eyes. "Fuck!"

  Blind, Alex spun around in pain and frustration, striking out at the air, each of his wild gestures tearing tissue-thin skin. "Fuck!"

  Too weak to pull off a respectable tantrum, he fell to his knees exhausted after a few seconds. When Alex's breathing slowed, Mikhail continued speaking as if nothing had happened. "You can't fool her or seduce her. You must make her love the monster you are. That is your only hope."

  Mikhail was never just a brother. He was the prince of New York. Always perfect. Always exerting authority over lesser sorts. Alex wanted to drive a fist through his face. Once, just once, he'd love to see him lose it. See him on his knees.

  Mikhail's upper lip twitched, revealing a bit of fang. Alex flinched, realizing Mikhail might have caught the direction of his thoughts. He could, sometimes. But Mikhail resumed his usual impassive expression. "I'll leave you now."

  "Don't." Alex crawled in front of him, naked, exhausted, pathetic. Past pride, he raised his hands in the gesture of formal supplication, something he'd never done before, but he'd seen plenty of times. "Knyaz, I beg your mercy."

  Mikhail studied him for a long, tightly drawn moment, during which Alex remained frozen, his hands out, his eyes pleading. Take me home, Misha. I need to be in my own place. I need my family. I need my donors. Please don't leave me like this.

  With a small shake of the head, an almost imperceptible negation, Mikhail made a sign of blessing. "God be with you, little brother."

  In a blink he was gone.

  "How am I going to feed myself?" Alex shouted after him. "Just what the hell am I supposed to do?"

  A little while later he knew what he had to do and made his way to the top of the stairs, shuffling like an old man. Helena would be wondering about the shouting, no doubt. Her office was just to the left of the basement door, but she wasn't in it. Reluctant to enter her space without permission, he stopped at the top stair and knocked on the open door. Her dog trotted down to bark at him.

  The noise made him wince. "Shh."

  Helena followed her dog down a few moments later. She was dressed in sweats and held a quart of chocolate ice cream in the crook of her arm. Her eyes were ringed with shadows. They flic
ked over him obliquely, taking in his relative position and condition before coming to rest on some point just behind him. She was good at not looking at him.

  "Do you need something?"

  "No. Yes." Suddenly chilled, he pulled the bag more tightly around his shoulders and winced at the pain of it. He stood one stair down, making Helena the same height as him. So not only was he a walking piece of beef jerky wearing an orange sleeping bag, but he'd shrunk too. "Mikhail has gone home. He left me behind."

  Her eyes went round. "Why?"

  "He wants me to—" Alex sighed, searching for words. "He wants me to be accountable for my own mistakes. But I told you I was leaving, and I will. I just have to ask you if you would mind if I stayed down here for two or three more days. I'm not strong enough to go out in the world yet."

  Her mouth tightened. Clearly she'd already fallen in love with the idea of him clearing out, and was trying to imagine how she'd live through this delay.

  "But if that makes you uncomfortable, I'll—" What the fuck would he do? Make do. Somehow. Find the seediest hotel on earth with a blind manager. Ordinarily he could disguise his appearance, but in his weakened state it was too hard to create even a simple illusion. What he needed was to spend a few days eating as much as he could. It was the only way to get back on his feet.

  Reading his thoughts, Helena said, "How are you going to eat without Mikhail?"

  Alex hesitated.

  Helena took a step backward.

  "Not you!" Alex cried, as horrified as her. Scully circled her feet protectively. Scully was pretty hefty for a little dog, he realized.

  "Why are you looking at my dog like that?"

  Alex swallowed. "I'm not going to eat you or your dog. Okay?" But maybe someone else's dog.

  "What else are you going to eat if you can't leave the house?"

  "I didn't say I wouldn't leave the house. I just can't show myself to the world, you know? Airports. Rental car agencies. I can't do that for a few days."

  Her voice thick with revulsion, Helena repeated, "What are you going to eat, Alex?"

  "Anything I can." He spat out the words. There it was, the truth, like Mikhail wanted. He was a monster. Monsters couldn't call for take-out when they didn't feel well. He was going to stagger out into the night, naked because he couldn't drag clothes over his tattered flesh, and he was going to search this godforsaken affluent woodsy fucking neighborhood for anything with a heartbeat. Dogs, cats, raccoons, rats, mice, birds, whatever he could find. Humans too, if possible, but it would have to be by some odd chance encounter, because he was too weak to enthrall them or take them down by force.

  "You're going to eat my neighbors." Her teeth chattered as she spoke.

  "Ah, Christ." Too tired to stand any longer, Alex slid down the wall to sit on the top stair, just inside the shadows. "We don't kill when we feed. Do you know that?"

  The smaller creatures he'd kill, but she didn't have to know about that. He didn't even want to think about it. His jaw clenched with distaste as he imagined sucking on a rat.

  She shook her head. "How should I know anything at all about this stuff?"

  "So you thought Mikhail was on a killing streak? Was the local news reporting dead bodies all over the CU campus?"

  Again she shook her head, but her chin lifted. "Your brother wouldn't leave tracks. He's not the type."

  Alex caught the emphasis. "Unlike me."

  With unexpected venom she said, "You leave tracks everywhere."

  It stung, but he didn't know what to say. Instead he went back to his original point. "Me, my family, all decent vampires, feed in one of two ways. They either hunt, which means we draw a pint or two from an unsuspecting victim and let them go, or we turn to willing donors."

  "Willing? For pay?"

  "For pleasure."

  Helena slid down the wall as he had, coming to rest across the hall from him. The light from her office bathed her face in white light. The hall walls were white, and the carpet too. Her sweats were white. She lived in an unstained world.

  She leaned forward, her cheeks pale, her blue eyes as cold as Mikhail's. "Did you suck my blood the first time we had sex?"

  "Yes."

  "I knew it." Her lips curled in disgust. "When I was coming, right?"

  He nodded.

  "In my most vulnerable, trusting moment you attacked me."

  "Feeding isn't an attack. It's sharing."

  "Seems like a funny one-sided kind of sharing to me."

  "At the time you didn't mind it at all. I'd go so far as to guess that at the time, you were having the biggest orgasm of your life."

  "That's not the point. The point is I didn't give you permission to do any such thing."

  "Did I ask your permission to kiss you, to eat you out, to fuck you?"

  "Beg your pardon, but I think drinking my life blood is a little different."

  "Well I don't!" Alex felt like shit. Inside and out. He was born a blood drinker. He'd never tried to defend the practice. Never had to. But here in front of Helena, with her acting like goddamn martyred Joan of Arc, it seemed indefensible.

  "I wanted you. All of you. I can't take you by halves. And you wanted it, too. You were begging."

  "Oh, it's my fault. I was asking for it."

  "I'm a predator. I respond to signals."

  "It must be convenient to be a predator among all of us stupid sheep. You can do whatever you want, take whatever you want."

  "It is what I am." It was harder for him to say it than for her to hear it. Each word was a nail in his coffin.

  "What you are is dangerous!" Helena jumped to her feet, looking like she was ready to come over and do a little more damage to his face.

  "Helena MacAllister, I swear by all that I hold sacred that I would never hurt you by sharing your blood. I would never drain you dry, I would never pass you a disease, I would not make you a vampire, a slave, a mommy, whatever it is you're thinking about."

  Trembling, her fists clenched, she restrained herself from hitting him—out of disgust more than mercy, he was sure. She addressed her next words to the carpet between them. "Oh, you swear? And tell me, just what does a vampire hold sacred?"

  "Fuck you, Helena."

  The silence that followed was the silence that followed a bomb blast, the long pause before the sirens began to wail. It hadn't been a casual fuck you. He hadn't meant to make it a curse, but his fear and frustration wrapped the words with power. If it sounded like a curse to him, it sounded worse to her.

  Could I possibly make myself any more repulsive?

  He had to leave before he hurt her again. But before he could open his mouth she said, "Don't you dare speak to me like that."

  "I'm sorry." It was inadequate, but he was sorry. For everything.

  Her eyes glittered fiercely. "I shouldn't have said you held nothing sacred. I don't know that. I don't know you at all." She swiped away her tears. "You can stay down here tonight and tomorrow night. That's it. I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you."

  Alex tried to say, "No, I'm leaving now." It would have been dignified. But the hurt, damaged part of him was so relieved to have somewhere safe to sleep that he couldn't object. He said, "Thank you," but his voice was too low and she ran away too fast.

  Helena retreated to the kitchen, sat down at the bar, and began to laugh. It was either that or cry. She'd been bickering with a vampire. Weren't you supposed to go after them with stakes? Instead she accused him of violating her boundaries.

  That's when she realized she wasn't frightened anymore.

  From the moment she'd found him collapsed in her backyard to her first talk with him this evening, she'd been in a state of continual, existential terror. But when they quarreled, Alex, huddled in the shadows of the staircase, sounded just like a man. Not a blood-sucking denizen of the night, but a pissed off, defensive guy. One who was maybe scared too. He'd been a jerk, but so had she in some ways.

  Just when she thought she'd run the gamut o
f bad relationships, she'd hooked up with a vampire. One who was less than honest, to put in nicely. One who expected not only that she'd marry him, but that she'd become a vampire as well. He wanted to feed off her. Talk about control issues. Talk about co-dependency. She'd had enough of that of with Jeff.

  The thing was, she'd had good chemistry with Jeff, too. Maybe not as wild as her attraction for Alex, but then again, Jeff didn't have vampire mojo backing him. But from the moment she and Jeff had met during a ski weekend in Telluride they'd been glued to one another. He was gorgeous, successful, and a five-time Ironman champion. She thought she'd finally found Mr. Perfect. They moved in together after three months. Problem was she was never perfect enough for him.

  In short, Jeff was controlling and manipulative. And she'd never be involved with another man like that again, even if she had to be celibate the rest of her life.

  She unwrapped a frozen pizza, wondering what Alex would be eating that night. He'd said he wouldn't kill the neighbors. How reassuring. She didn't know her neighbors real well, and honestly didn't like a couple of them, but she didn't think they deserved to be sucked on. At the same time, he had to eat.

  He's a giant parasite. She'd not defined it so clearly yet, but that was exactly what he was. How could he live with himself, stealing from other people every day just to live?

  He couldn't go back to New York fast enough.

  On his second night alone, Alex woke up with rat hair between his teeth, hating Mikhail. His phone held concerned messages from his mother and Gregor, but no one was petitioning for his return. His father could override Mikhail's decision, but had not. As usual, the Faustins held strong—even against one of their own.

  Alex braced himself for another farcical, humiliating outing. The night before he couldn't find any dogs or cats outside. It was too cold. He'd peeked through windows at people watching TV and considered creeping up on them while they slept. But if they woke up, if they pulled a gun, if they hit him… The thought of being struck made him hunch over. He was nothing but raw flesh and exposed nerve.

  Children were tempting, but if they saw him, they'd be scarred for life. He just couldn't do it.