by Kristie Cook
“Why does that have anything to do with it?”
She let out a breath of impatience, and her tone sounded as though she explained something complicated to a five-year-old. “It’s been too long since I’ve had real blood, especially mage blood. I’m limited. Unless you—”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, nice try.”
We began our trip north and west, and the shorter flash trips quickly wore on us. You’d think I’d have an easier time with the shorter distances, but the energy came from the disappearing and reappearing, not the distance traveled. And we disappeared and reappeared a lot more often than I was used to when flashing with Tristan.
By the time we arrived in the forests of Washington in mid-afternoon, my energy was low and Vanessa’s was depleted.
“I wanted to follow the sun,” she said as she struggled to hike the mountainside to a cave just above us, “because fewer Daemoni are out to catch us, but the daylight’s too much for me. I’m too weak in this blood state.”
As if to emphasize her point, her foot slipped, and she almost tumbled on top of me. I caught her before she fell and pushed her to her feet.
“We’ll stay here until dark,” I said, making an executive decision as we reached the cave.
She must have heard the disappointment in my voice. “I only need a short break. And maybe a small taste of your blood?”
“Haha. We’ll wait until sundown, you’ll find a deer or something, and then we’ll go. You’re no good to me if you can’t at least protect yourself.”
Vanessa huddled in the darkest corner and closed her eyes, but I couldn’t relax enough to rest. I sat with my back against the cave wall near the opening, my knees drawn to my chin and my dagger in hand, while my mind spun in more directions than should be possible. I couldn’t help but think of Dorian and Tristan, missing them so much, and wondering how things were going at the safe house.
How was Tristan? Had Kali made a breakthrough? If so, were Bree and the mages strong enough to restrain Tristan? If they couldn’t, whatever I was doing could be pointless if I didn’t get to the stone in time. I just knew once I had it in my hand, he’d be okay. I had to believe that.
So another part of my mind couldn’t help counting off every second we wasted. Another second could be another life Tristan took if Kali gained complete control of him before Bree and the mages could sever the connection. This part of my brain sent signals to my muscles that kept them coiled, ready to act when I finally decided it was time.
Then there was the third part that could barely contain those muscles from springing on their own—the part that kept one constant eye on Vanessa, even when my physical eyes finally began to close. This part kept tight hold on her mind signature, ready to alert me if something twanged in her thoughts.
As the sun moved overhead and into the western sky, my head started falling, and I jerked up.
“Sleep, princess,” Vanessa said, watching me from where she lay in the deepest, darkest part of the cave. “You need to regenerate.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered. A brief burst of adrenaline pumped through me, caused by the feeling of falling as I’d nodded off, but it quickly ran down and my eyes began closing again. Only an hour or two. Have to wait for the sun to set anyway. I let my eyes stay closed, and my mind finally drifted off with images of Tristan and Dorian flickering on the backs of my eyelids.
A sting across my hand tugged me out of unconsciousness, but it was the feeling of a mouth against my palm that jerked me full awake. Not Tristan, I knew right away. The hardness of the cave floor reminded me where I was, and my eyes popped open. I squinted against the late afternoon sun shining brightly through the cave’s opening to find Vanessa squatted over me, her tongue sliding over my palm.
“What the hell?” I shrieked, jerking away from her, but she held tightly to my hand. She gave it a look of longing then threw it at me.
“It’s already closed up,” she complained.
“What do you think you’re doing? I told you! Not my blood!”
“Relax. I only got a couple drops before you healed.” She licked her lips. “But damn, was it good.”
The way she looked at me … fangs fully extended beyond her upper lip and glowing blue eyes swirling with desire … I tried to scoot backward, away from her, but my spine already pressed against the cave wall. At least her eyes weren’t red like a Daemoni’s would be—a good sign. But, crap, she’d drank my blood. I looked at my palm and she was right, the wound had already healed, which made no sense. I couldn’t heal that quickly from a vampire’s fangs.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said, her voice small now. “You slid your hand over your dagger while you were sleeping … the smell was overpowering … I—I couldn’t help it.”
She stared at my blade with intense longing, and, squinting, I saw the narrow line of blood that confirmed her story. Which also explained how I’d healed so quickly. She told the truth.
“I’m hungry, Alexis. I have to—” Her head swung toward the opening of the cave as her nose twitched, sniffing the air. She disappeared in a flash.
My breath caught in my throat, and I lunged for her flash trail, but I was too late to catch it. Fortunately, my mind found her signature not too far away, about a hundred yards down the slope. She must have picked up the scent of a deer or a—
Oh, crap.
Animals don’t laugh.
Chapter 23
Vanessa, don’t! I warned her before I flashed to her location, but she was already flying at the hikers when I appeared. I slammed into her body, knocking her far off course. We flew so far so fast, the Norman hikers probably had no idea we were there or how close they’d come to being Vanessa’s dinner. A tree stopped us, and we crashed to the ground.
“Bitch! I’m freakin’ starving!” In a blur, Vanessa came at me.
No people! I said, throwing my arms up to block her attack.
Her knuckles skimmed against my temple. I jabbed my fist up and caught her chin. Her head snapped backward, and anger filled her eyes.
“I’m a vampire,” she said as she punched me in the jaw, making me stagger. She moved forward. “We eat people!”
“You’re Amadis now. You don’t eat people.” My leg came up and my foot thudded against her ribs. “You’re better than that.”
In an instant, her hands were around my throat. She lifted me off the ground.
“Your goody-two-shoes act gets so old,” she groaned. “Little Miss Perfect who gets everything she wants. You make me sick!”
She squeezed my throat harder. I punched and kicked her, but she didn’t let go. I zapped her with electricity, which caused her grip to loosen enough for me to breathe, which was enough for me to keep fighting.
“Well, your lack of self control gets old,” I retorted as I shot another bolt of electricity at her. She jumped out of the way, releasing me completely, and the current hit a tree trunk, blowing off a chunk of bark. “Little Miss Spoiled Brat who needs to learn some self discipline. Your sense of entitlement makes me sick.”
“I hate you!” she screamed as she flew through the air at me.
“I hate you more,” I yelled, throwing myself into her path.
“I’ve hated you longer!” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pinning mine to my body. We hit the ground and rolled several yards, before stopping against a boulder with her on top. She punched me in the face. If I were a Norman, she would have knocked me unconscious. Perhaps even killed me with the force. As it was, pain shot through my cheek and stars danced across my eyes.
“Only because you’ve lived longer,” I said. “What were the dinosaurs really like, anyway?”
She let out a hiss-snarl as she swung to punch me again. I arched my back and bucked her off before her fist made contact. We punched, kicked, choked, and wrestled, shoved each other into tree trunks, and rolled over the rocks and logs on the ground. Each blow brought a grunt out of the other, but we kept fighting, wrestling, and yelling profanities. At
one point, I couldn’t help but think how much Tristan would have enjoyed watching this.
The thought of him reminded me why we were even here. We didn’t have time to be screwing around like this. I needed to end this farce so we could move on. If only my blood hadn’t given Vanessa such a burst of energy. I had to wear her out before I could bring her down and, to be honest, I could only do that by listening to every thought she had before she actually made a move. But she was super-fast, even with the sun still up. My blood apparently increased her vampire speed. Finally, I got a hold of her with my legs and flipped her to the ground. She landed hard on her back, me on top of her. I shoved my hand into her face, pushing it sideways into the ground, waiting for her to yell mercy.
Then I felt it. And we both froze.
Her fangs had been out. My hand had pressed down on one. Hard enough for it to puncture my skin.
I jerked my hand to my chest as Vanessa looked at me again with intense longing.
“Please … Alexis,” she panted. “I’m really sorry about all of this. About what I said. I didn’t mean it. I’m just so hungry. And weak. If you won’t let me feed off those hikers …”
My head moved side to side in a slow shake. “No, Vanessa. No people.”
“Animal blood won’t do it, though. We won’t make it!” Her voice rose in volume with her desperation. “The mage power is gone. I’ve burned through it already. I can’t even feel your witch friend anymore. Norman blood would strengthen me, but yours …”
She trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. She didn’t move underneath me, didn’t try to get up or throw me off of her. She just lay there, looking up at me with big, pleading eyes. Was the fight in her really gone? If she had any energy left, she wasn’t using it against me now when the smell of my blood had to have been driving her crazy. Despite what I’d said, she really had improved in showing self-control. Perhaps we’d both said things we didn’t mean.
“A few drops of my blood gave you that strength to fight me?” I asked, truly amazed.
She nodded her head against the ground. “But it was just a tease, and it set me off.”
Any more than a few drops could make her formidable against our opponents … or against me. Could I take that chance? Did I have a choice?
“I guess we can use that kind of strength,” I finally said. “But no more fighting me, or I’ll blast your ass with electricity until you shrivel into a pile of ashes and purple smoke. Got it?”
“Feed me, and I won’t need to fight you.”
Hoping I wasn’t about to make the worst mistake of my life, I unzipped my leather jacket and shrugged it off, leaving my shoulders and arms bare, only the leather bustier covering my top half. The late winter chill of the mountains caressed my skin, probably too cold for a Norman but not uncomfortable for me.
I held my wrist out to her.
Vanessa didn’t miss a beat. She grabbed my arm and pulled it toward her mouth. My jaw clamped down against the cry when her fangs pierced my skin. Then my blood gushed toward the wound as if it’d been waiting for such a release from the confines of my veins. After a few swallows, a strange look overcame Vanessa’s face. Her light blond brows pushed together and her eyes showed confusion, then a spark of a thought. They locked on mine for a long moment as she seemed to be considering me in a new light, then she shut them, seemingly in bliss as she fed her hunger.
I couldn’t help but compare this to the one and only other time a vampire had drank from me. In our first real fight, right before I’d gone through the Ang’dora, Vanessa had nearly killed me. Who would have ever imagined then that I’d be feeding her purposely now? I also thought about the time when Tristan had sucked my blood. He hadn’t done it for nourishment of course, but to clean a wound he was helping to heal. The feeling had been erotic, nearly bringing me to an orgasm.
In fact, that’s how it should have felt. Solomon had confirmed the drinking of blood served as a sensual and sexual pleasure for both vampire and victim/donor/partner/whatever-the-situation-was. But I felt nothing now, and Vanessa showed no signs either. I mean, she drew heartily and made sounds of contentment, but no more than anyone enjoying a delicious meal. I’d been on the brink of death last time, so I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t think either of us had felt anything then. Why not?
Although we weren’t exactly BFFs and despite the fight of a few minutes ago, I thought we’d moved past the true hatred. Was it my Amadis blood? Or something else?
Vanessa finally opened her eyes and pulled away. She ran the back of her hand over her lips, wiping off any blood. “You taste … familiar.”
“Well, it’s not the first time you’ve had me, remember?”
She ran her tongue over the bite marks on my wrist, and they closed right up.
“No, that’s not what I mean. I’d thought about it that time, too, but had dismissed it. But now …” She shook her head, then smiled lazily, and I couldn’t help but notice how she was even more beautiful like this—rosy cheeks, bright eyes that weren’t full of hatred, at the moment anyway—a natural look. I swung my leg around and rolled off her, onto my back.
I hadn’t realized I’d needed to lie down until I did. How much blood had she taken? Of course, I hadn’t had much rest and regeneration, and I hadn’t eaten since … well, it’d been over twenty-four hours, that was for sure. No wonder my head felt woozy.
One moment Vanessa lay on the ground next to me, and without so much as a blur, the next she stood over me, picking leaves and twigs out of her ponytail. She shrugged out of her jacket and danced around me.
“I feel fabulous.” She let out a hoot as she spun in a circle.
I moaned, her movements making me dizzy. “I feel like crap.”
She stopped and stared at me for a long moment. I grimaced at her in her tight leather pants and bustier, but not out of jealousy. Actually, I had on a nearly identical outfit and looked as good. At least, I had before our fight. Now I probably looked as bad as I felt. I only wanted …
“Aren’t you supposed to have fed, too, by now?”
I didn’t answer her. Something on her chest had caught my attention, momentarily making me forget how badly I felt. A fading tattoo ... no, more like a scar that had healed yet not completely vanished. With a very familiar design.
“Vanessa, what’s—?”
I tried to lift my hand to point, but didn’t have the energy. She followed my gaze, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, that. It showed up when you converted me.”
“Is it what I think it is?”
“The Amadis mark? Yeah.” She said no more.
“But how? You don’t get the Amadis mark from converting. You have to actually have Amadis blood—oh! Really?”
She shrugged. “I never knew my mother, she died while giving birth to my brother and me, but I think she was the daughter of an Amadis son. A converted daughter, no less.”
“Your mother was Amadis?”
From what Mom had told me one night as we sat in Rina’s room, Daemoni daughters were even rarer than Amadis sons. Female descendants of Jordan only came every few generations and hardly ever survived the change. Same with daughters of male descendants of Cassandra. This had been one of the reasons they weren’t sure about my surviving the Ang’dora, since my sperm donor was a Jordan descendant. And if Dorian had a daughter, the probability of her making it past the change was virtually nil. Mom had said there were none of these daughters alive now, and there hadn’t been since before her own Ang’dora.
“In every which way,” Vanessa said. “At least, that’s what I think. Like I said, never knew her, and I was raised by the Daemoni.”
If this were true, why wouldn’t Mom know about Vanessa? On the other hand, why would Vanessa lie about it? The Amadis mark was right there on her chest, and it couldn’t be faked. She would have healed too quickly if it hadn’t come from the inside.
“And your father?” I asked.
“No idea who he is.” Something flickered over
her face that told me she thought otherwise. “A Daemoni bastard who raped my mom and left us with a witch to live as orphans.”
Another rape. Another pierce in the back of my mind—a question I didn’t want to acknowledge.
Instead, I recalled Vanessa’s visions during the conversion, and all of this explained how she’d not been Norman before becoming a vampire. But who would turn her, if she’d already had her own powers from both sides of her lineage?
“Then why were you turned? With the bloodline …” My voice trailed off at her closed-off look.
“I thought you didn’t feel well. Don’t you eat more often than this?”
She’d opened up to me about herself more than she had ever before, but apparently she was done. Ready to change the subject.
“I don’t feel well,” I said, “but we haven’t exactly had time to stop and eat.”
My stomach gurgled, as if on cue. I definitely needed to eat, but unless I hunted down my dinner, which there wasn’t a chance in Hades of happening, we had to move, get going, flash to the next town. But I felt too weak to even push myself off the ground.
Vanessa squatted over me. “What do I do?”
I couldn’t help the shock of seeing her face, so kind and concerned. For me. This day grew weirder and weirder.
“I don’t think I can even flash to the next town,” I admitted. “Not yet anyway. Just give me a few minutes. A little rest will help.”
I closed my eyes for what felt like a minute or two, but when I opened them again, I could barely see in the complete darkness. While I’d dreamt of lying in Tristan’s arms once again, night had fallen. My heart hurt at the reality that I wasn’t with him. With the knowledge that he and my son were so far away. I squeezed my lids shut, wishing myself to them, conjuring the image of sitting on the beach and watching the sunset while Dorian built a sandcastle by the water. The image came so clear, I could almost feel Tristan’s breath on my ear as his lips nibbled my lobe.