Don't Talk Back To Your Vampire

by Michele Bardsley

  Otto didn’t seem particularly happy to have his fun cut short, but he took a syringe from the table and prepared it. Then he swabbed my neck with alcohol and jabbed the needle into my carotid artery. OUCH!

  I’m sorry that I locked you up, Eva. After you drank my blood, we were afraid you would change into a hybrid. I didn’t abandon you. I swear it.

  I wanted to reassure him, but I suspected Koschei was monitoring my thoughts.

  “Why do you want Lorcan to die?” I asked Koschei.

  Otto took another jab at my neck, and I flinched.

  Koschei’s eyes didn’t flicker. He neither enjoyed nor empathized with my pain. “He killed my daughter.”

  “Well, he killed me, too, and you don’t see me seeking revenge.”

  He shrugged. “I have made many vampires, but of the children born to me, only one remained.”

  “Ina?”

  “Ah. You read the old stories.” He leaned a hip against the table and clasped his hands. “I managed to Turn her. I lost everyone dear to me, all but her. Vampires must maintain relationships to keep our humanity. We must exercise our emotions, if you will, or we turn droch fola. Lorcan killed that connection when he took Ina’s life.”

  I had no idea what to make of Koschei’s accusation. I was feeling dizzy, thanks to Otto’s enthusiastic removal of my blood. The doctor yanked my hair. “Ow!”

  “For tests,” he said gleefully. Then he jerked out a few more strands. I denied him the pleasure of my discomfort, staying still and silent. He scowled and returned to his table of tortures.

  Eva? Please, love, answer me!

  Oh, God. He sounded so desperate, so concerned. Would just one quick thought matter? Koschei was watching me closely. Otto had apparently finished gathering samples from me and returned to the dark recesses from which he’d slithered.

  “Why don’t you answer him?” asked Koschei.

  “Who?”

  His lips tugged into an awful smile. “Talk to him, Eva.”

  The urge to mentally connect with Lorcan was too strong. I fought against the command, but it was a short-lived battle. Koschei had been practicing his skills for more than four millennia. But not even a vampire Ancient is a match for a worried mother. I made a concerted effort to rebuff his glamour. I built a psychic barrier and strengthened it with my love for Tamara and my determination to see her safe.

  It worked.

  “You are much too powerful for a Turn-blood. What else did Lorcan’s blood do to you?” His brows dipped, his lips pinching shut in anger. “Do as I say, Eva, if you value the life of your daughter.”

  “Free her and you can have me and Lorcan.”

  “Agreed. Tell him to meet us, alone, at the abandoned mini-golf course.”

  “I want to see Tamara before I agree to anything.”

  He clamped my shoulder, hatred flaring in his gaze, and the familiar tingling pricked me. We appeared in the hallway. Koschei hustled me into the living room.

  Nefertiti waited on the blue couch. She had a nasty black gun trained on my daughter’s forehead.

  “Oh, my God! Tamara, are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m f-fine.”

  Oh, my poor baby. She was dressed in a neon pink stretch top, a pink and black skirt, striped hose, and black platform shoes. Her body said Goth-punk, but her face said scared-little-girl. Her makeup was smeared from crying; black streaked her still-wet cheeks.

  I turned to Koschei. “You made my daughter cry.”

  “Tears mean nothing to me.”

  That was it . . . that was it . . . that was fucking it! Nobody threatened my daughter. Not even the master of my Family. I wrenched out of his grasp. Staring into his eyes, I said, “Freeze.”

  The word boomed from my lips. He stilled completely. Only his eyes revealed the depth of his fury.

  I turned to the bitch on the couch. “Nefertiti, you will obey me.”

  “Yes, Eva.”

  “Stay where you are and point the gun at Koschei.” I wrapped the words in iron will.

  She swung the gun in his direction.

  “Tamara, come here.”

  Eyes wide, she scooted off the couch, rounding the back to avoid getting in front of the gun. She hurried to my side and clung to my arm. “Holy shit, Mom.”

  “That about sums it up.”

  Hey, door jockey, I mentally called, get your furry butt in here.

  I heard him scrabbling down the hallway. He took one look at the situation, and lurched forward, snarling.

  “Freeze!”

  In midlurch, he fell forward, and stayed with legs and feet still curled as if in movement.

  “Go outside, Tamara, and wait for me.”

  For once, I didn’t have to ask her twice to do something. She ran out of the room. I heard the front door slam.

  I looked at Nefertiti. “Shoot Koschei,” I ordered. “And don’t stop until you’re out of bullets.”

  Chapter 27

  As Tamara and I took off across the grass, we heard the report of the bullets. I steered Tamara in the direction of the compound, which was the most secure place in Broken Heart.

  “Did you kill him?” asked Tamara.

  “No. Not even a full clip of bullets will take down an Ancient for very long. We just needed time to escape.”

  “You should’ve killed him.”

  “Nobody knows what would happen to a Family if its Ancient died. Our powers are traced directly to the founder. If I killed Koschei, I might kill all of us from the Romanov line.”

  “Good point.” She looked behind her. “Let’s run faster.”

  I couldn’t agree more, so we picked up our pace.

  Lorcan?

  He didn’t respond. Foreboding whipped through me. Had Koschei’s minions gotten to him?

  Damian?

  Eva! Where are you?

  Tamara and I are headed toward the compound. Koschei the Second kidnapped us. I made Nefertiti shoot him.

  You . . . what?

  The bullets will slow him down, not kill him. He said his mutants attacked the town.

  Several locations were assaulted all at once. Everything’s under control now.

  Good. Get to the abandoned house north of Putt ’Er There and nab the rest of the bad guys.

  Done.

  Wait! Where’s Lorcan?

  He was attacked. Stan is tending to his wounds, but a day’s rest will heal him fully. I could feel his pause. Then: Bert mauled him. I’m sorry, Eva. We had to put the dog down.

  Bert hadn’t abandoned me at the creepy house. Koschei had given him a mental command to find Lorcan and harm him. Poor, sweet Bert. And Lorcan—he must’ve been shocked when his friend turned on him. Just like I had. My heart squeezed. I wish I could shoot Koschei myself. I’d empty every round into his balls.

  “Mom, I gotta rest.” Tamara stumbled to a stop and bent at the knees, trying to catch her breath. I realized then how fast I must’ve been going.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I won’t feel safe until we’re in the compound.”

  “Me, too.” She straightened and looked at me. “Mom, you totally rocked in there. Yelling ‘Freeze’ was kinda cheesy, though.”

  I grinned. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  I was so relieved that Tamara was safe that I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug. For once, she didn’t grumble and grouse about getting mommy-smooshed. She returned the hug fully and we stood there for a long moment. My baby. My sweet, sweet baby.

  “Uh, Mom? Can’t . . . breathe.”

  “Oh, all right.” I released her and stepped back. A flash of movement caught my eye. I shoved Tamara out of the way and she flew sideways, skidding across the dry grass.

  Nefertiti shoved a long blade into my abdomen, and I pushed her away. Blood gushed from my wound, but it started to seal almost immediately.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked. “Hack at each other all night?”

  “I’m going to cut off your head, you Turn-blood bitch.�
�

  Her knife flashed again. I tried to rear out of the way, but the blade grazed my throat. “Stop, Nefertiti!” I added the boom to my voice, but the dagger kept its trajectory.

  “Ugh!” Nefertiti lurched forward, her arms dropping.

  I looked down and saw that Tamara had gotten behind the vampire and shoved two very short knives into Nefertiti’s sides, just below the rib cage. To my pride and horror, my little girl twisted the knives viciously, then ripped them out.

  Nefertiti screamed.

  Tamara pierced Nefertiti’s shoulders and did the same shove, twist, and yank motion. Oh, my God! My daughter would need therapy after this . . . or maybe I would.

  “Don’t ever touch my mother again,” she said. She thrust the little blades into Nefertiti’s back, executed the same moves, then put her foot onto Nefertiti’s buttocks and pushed. Writhing and moaning, the vampire remained facefirst on the ground.

  “Durry showed me the moves,” said Tamara. “It takes longer for the flesh to heal when it’s twisted.”

  “Tamara!”

  Speak of the devil. The shout came from Durriken.

  Still in shock over my daughter’s vampire-hunter technique, I turned to find Durriken and Johnny running toward us. I happily backed away while Durriken secured Nefertiti’s arms.

  “My glamour didn’t work,” I said.

  “She was in bloodlust,” answered Durriken as he clasped chains to her ankles, too. “Vampires have more strength and resistance when they’re really pissed off.”

  Johnny stood nearby. I turned to look at him.

  “All these years . . . and there she is,” he whispered. His hair was matted, his clothes dirty, and his smile grim. He must’ve been searching for her nonstop for weeks. “Nefertiti.”

  Durriken jerked the woman to her feet.

  “I was tracking Tamara when I found Johnny scouting the woods. Then I caught Nefertiti’s scent,” said Durriken.

  “Good thing,” I said, shuddering to think how Nefertiti might well have killed us both.

  “O zalzaro khal peski piri,” said Durriken. “Acid corrodes its own container. She has no soul. Evil cannot abide a conscience.” He tugged on the chains binding Nefertiti’s delicate wrists. “Don’t bother trying to break them. Brigid herself created the drabas for them.”

  Nefertiti wasn’t struggling. She was staring at Johnny. “Oh, my husband,” she cried. “I wanted only to protect you.”

  “Liar,” said Johnny softly. He strode forward and grabbed a fistful of Nefertiti’s silky locks. “You cursed me. I watched my pregnant fiancée marry someone else. Another man raised our daughter.” He twisted the knot of hair tighter, but she didn’t flinch. “I hate you.”

  “I gave you immortality.” She smirked at him. “You will live forever because of me.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m just a walking dead man.” Johnny’s other hand rose and in a flash of silver, Nefertiti’s head separated from her shoulders.

  Durriken shouted as blood sprayed him. He let go of the body and it slumped to the ground.

  “Johnny! No!” Grief seared me as Tamara sought my embrace, burying her head on my shoulder. She sobbed for both of us.

  He tossed Nefertiti’s head onto the ground, then turned to look at me. His lips curved into the famous half smile that had made him such a movie-star heartthrob half a century ago. “It’s okay, Eva. I’m free.”

  Nefertiti’s corpse exploded into dust. And before my eyes, Johnny crumbled into ash.

  Durriken went to report to his father, taking with him the Brigid-spelled chains and Nefertiti’s magic ankh.

  Jessica met us at the compound and led us to a small bungalow near the library. The place was sparsely furnished and was the color I’d come to dread: white. Jessica had brought me some clothes.

  “After we found your pajamas in the cell, I thought you were running around nekkid.”

  I took the jeans and halter top. “You thought I was running around as a wolf.”

  She grinned.

  At the same time I was putting on my clothes (oh, the glorious feel of pants), Patrick, Damian, and a large security team were bursting into Koschei’s hideout.

  Only Ron and Charlie remained. I don’t know what happened to them, only that the Consortium spirited them away to another location. Koschei and Otto the Onerous had disappeared. Otto hadn’t had time to pack up his stuff, so the Consortium confiscated files, samples, and equipment. Chances were good that Koschei, not Ron, was behind the sudden and virulent taint that had spread among vampires.

  The first victim had been his daughter, Ina.

  “My name’s Ruadan.” The man sitting on the steps of my front porch looked every bit as gorgeous as his twin sons.

  Holy freaking frijole! Not only was he the father of Patrick and Lorcan, he was also the first vampire ever to walk the earth. “Should I bow or something, Your Highness?”

  “My sons are trying to do away with the formalities of the Ancients. I tend to agree with them on the idea of relaxing protocol. Just call me Ruadan, darlin’.”

  “Okay, Ruadan Darling.”

  He laughed heartily, then patted the spot next to him. I sat down, keeping a foot between us.

  The animals gathered around me as usual, which amused Ruadan no end. I had been waiting for Lorcan, hoping that he would visit me. I wasn’t sure I could work up the nerve to seek him out.

  My house would soon be emptied of its books, furniture, and memories.

  Stan had given me a clean bill of health and was studying my blood. I didn’t understand the scientific explanations. Somehow the royal lycan blood had fused to Lorcan’s cells, creating a hybrid blood that destroyed the taint. Stan decided to work on a formula that could be directly injected into a sufferer. Faustus agreed to be the guinea pig.

  “You’ll do, now, won’t you, darlin’?”

  “Do for what?”

  “For my son. I’m sure you know him: tall, black hair, tormented soul?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “That sounds about right.”

  “Do you know that you’re meant for him and he for you?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t! Jessica told me about the fede ring and the soul mate story. You manipulated your son and the fates of the McCree women. You can’t say the same about me and Lor.”

  “Sure an’ I do,” he said cheerfully. “But I didn’t have to write Lor’s story. He wrote his own. You’re meant for him, Eva LeRoy.”

  “He probably doesn’t think so.” I sighed. “Ruadan, what about Koschei? Having an Ancient perpetuating death and destruction on vampires is not a good thing.”

  “He is droch fola,” he said, his Irish lilt filled with anger. “Have no worries, darlin’. We will handle that horse’s arse just fine.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  He looked at me. “Now, about you and my son . . .”

  “Your son can’t forgive himself,” I said. “My mother said forgiving other people was less about giving them absolution and more about keeping your own soul from shriveling up.”

  “True enough.” He smiled kindly. “Your mother sounds like a remarkable woman.”

  “She was. We lost her five years ago to cancer.”

  “I’m sorry she’s no longer on this plane of existence,” said Ruadan, his gaze compassionate. “But I’m sure she watches over you and Tamara every day.”

  I tried to swallow the sudden knot in my throat. I hadn’t had enough time with my mother. As much as I appreciated her now, there were plenty of times I hadn’t. We had our share of arguments. We were both mule-stubborn and to this day I wished I had hugged her more, told her I loved her more. Did telling my mother at the end of her life how much she meant to me make up for all those times when anger and annoyance ruled my words and actions?

  Every day was an opportunity to express love and gratitude. I tried not to waste those opportunities. You never knew how long you had with someone, whether it was sharing a five-minute elevator ride with
a stranger or living an ordinary life with an extraordinary mother.

  And maybe that was finally the lesson I had come to learn with Lorcan. I loved him. And I couldn’t waste another moment pretending that I didn’t.

  “Lorcan will be here soon,” said Ruadan. He winked. “Welcome to the family, love.”

  Chapter 28

  Not five minutes after Ruadan sparkled away, Lorcan arrived. He flew in from the direction of the compound.

  I felt awkward and uncertain. We had been through so much together. He killed me and then I tried to kill him. It didn’t seem like murder attempts were the way to bring two broken souls together. So, instead of talking about us, we talked about everything else.

  “Koschei is a much bigger problem for the vampire population than the Wraiths are,” said Lorcan. “Koschei and Otto are the ones really responsible for the vampire plague.”

  “Why does he think you killed Ina?” I asked.

  “She realized what her father was doing and came to me for help.”

  “And she would do that because . . .”

  “Once, long ago, we were more than friends.”

  “You were bound?” I don’t know why I was so shocked that Lorcan had had prior relationships. He always seemed so lonely and monkish.

  “I may have been a filí,” said Lorcan, “but that didn’t require me to be celibate.” He put his arm around me and I relaxed. The tension dissolved and I enjoyed the easy affection. “By the time Ina reached me, the disease was in its final stages. I cared for her, but it was too late to save her. One night, she attacked me.”

  “It seems you keep getting attacked by those who are supposed to love you.”

  “Yet I’m still here.” He smiled. “I didn’t kill her, Eva. She walked into the dawn.”

  “Sometimes grief changes you. It makes you better or worse. Maybe Koschei needed someone to blame for his loss. Maybe he was always a little crazy and losing Ina was what broke him.”

  “Maybe.” He kissed me. “I have to go, love. We have another meeting with the board. We also have to make preparations for the Ancients.”

  “They’re coming here?”

  “Right now, it’s the safest place to host a conference.”