Secrets in Blood

by Patricia D. Eddy

  “You just said I was immune,” Evangeline said, impatience sharpening her tone.

  With a snarl, Nic captured her wrists, holding them over her head as he pressed her down on the old sofa. He held her still with his weight, and she struggled, but she couldn’t break his hold.

  “You are immune to the incantesimo, si. And you are very strong. But nowhere near as strong as I am. Do you think if one of my kind wanted to restrain you that they’d have any trouble?” His eyes churned with power, and firm lips pressed into a thin line.

  The masculine scent of tobacco and sandalwood that permeated his skin, the slow beat of his heart against her breast, and the hard bulge between his legs sent her emotions tumbling over the edge from fear to arousal.

  “Let me up,” she begged, her voice rough. “Please.”

  Nic’s head dipped closer, and his lips slanted over her mouth. Warm, full, and utterly possessive. His tongue sought entrance, caressing softly, then boldly. She yielded, inhaled his scent, and heard the low rumbling in his throat that marked the pleasure they’d both been denied for so long.

  Shifting her hips under him, she panted as her nipples hardened to tight points under her shirt. Nic braceleted her wrists with one hand while skimming the other palm down her body. When he pinched one throbbing nipple, she cried out into his kiss. Edging her legs apart with his thigh, he nipped at the corner of her mouth.

  Evangeline pushed against him, desperate need arcing through her.

  “I want you.”

  Evangeline whimpered softly, hoping to convey without words that she felt the same. She craved him, needed him, ached for the release only he could give her. Heat and rich spice on her tongue, cool air along her skin as he undid the buttons on her shirt, and his fingers sliding lower, into her pants.

  With a moan, she struggled against his iron grip, needing to touch him, but he held her fast. Her tongue explored his mouth, playful, teasing over his teeth until his fangs descended and she gasped, jerking her head away.

  Whether her pounding heartbeat, her panic, or the taste of blood that flooded her mouth, Nic pulled away so quickly she saw only a blur, vaulting over the back of the sofa, panting.

  “I am sorry. I should have warned you.”

  “Does that happen…every time?” Evangeline pressed her hand to her heart, trying to calm herself down.

  “Yes. Vampires…bite one another during sex.”

  “Oh, shit.” Evangeline scrambled up, backing towards the bedroom. He didn’t follow, shame hunching his shoulders.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold, she turned and shut the door.

  The dull roar of her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Every movement highlighted the dampness between her thighs, and the taste of him lingered on her lips. The sharp scrape of his fangs reminded her how dangerous he could be, and though he’d sworn he wouldn’t harm her, could she really trust him?

  Pressing her ear against the door, she heard him muttering, but he let her be. She couldn’t help herself. Even the fear of succumbing to his bite didn’t stop her from wanting him.

  Alone, Evangeline paced, her hands trembling. She fumbled for the buttons of her shirt, fighting with the small pieces of plastic. She needed air, needed to hunt and get her blood pumping so maybe she could figure out this intense heat between them.

  She’d only slept with one man in her life. Pleasure had never been a concern. But now, with Nic, she wanted more. So did he. She couldn’t blame him after eighteen years of celibacy.

  The bedroom window opened out onto the dilapidated porch. As quietly as possible, she eased up the sash and threw her left leg over the sill. No, she couldn’t just run off. In the bedside table, she found a book of crossword puzzles and a pencil. She ripped out one of the pages and scribbled a quick note.

  “Went hunting. Back in an hour or two.”

  She left the most important sentence unwritten.

  Don’t leave.

  Tossing her legs over the sill again, she slipped quietly out onto the porch and retrieved her bow and quiver. Before she took the first step off the porch, the front door opened, and Nic leapt to her side, so quickly she dropped the bow in shock.

  “Where are you going?” Fear churned in his bright amethyst irises.

  “I…I need some air,” she stammered.

  Nic touched her cheek, resting his fingers just above her jaw. “Please, cara, do not leave like this. If you wish to hunt, let me come with you.”

  “I can’t think with you touching me,” Evangeline whispered.

  “Are you frightened of me?” His hand fell away.

  “No,” she said. “I mean…I should be. You’re a vampire. But I’m not scared. Just…confused.”

  “Come back inside so we can talk. Per favore. Do not run away from me.”

  Evangeline froze. Every instinct told her to flee, but her heart wanted to stay. In the end, her instincts won. “I’ll be back. I promise. I just need a little time. And I need to hunt and cook some meat before I…we pack up. Whatever happens. Okay?”

  Nothing about the look on Nic’s face said he was okay with any of this.

  “I’m sorry.” Evangeline grabbed the bow and turned, but Nic reached for her arm.

  “No.”

  “No? Let me go,” Evangeline spat. His fingers banded around her upper arm, an unbreakable hold, yet he wasn’t hurting her.

  “Evangeline, I understand that you need some space. I will give you that space. But please stay here. I will feel much better knowing you safe with the shotgun and ammunition in case your father has any idea where we are. I will go.”

  “Can you even hunt?” she asked, her brows lifting in challenge.

  “I can outrun most animals. I’m certain I can come back with something.” Nic stood between Evangeline and the steps, his back straight, his eyes bright.

  In her twenty-six years, he’d been the only one to protect her. He’d tried when she was eight—and failed. Now…he was trying again. He would stop her from risking her safety. He could stop her. Easily.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Fine.”

  “Pack up what we need to get to Seattle. I will return in an hour.” He stepped close enough for her to feel his breath ghosting across her cheeks. “Lock the door. Keep the shotgun close.” With that, he took off in a blur of flannel.

  “Be careful,” she whispered. “And come back to me.”

  16

  Nic leapt over downed branches, rocks, and large blackberry bushes with ease, relishing the freedom to move, to breathe fresh air, and to feel the sun on his face. Skidding to a halt next to the river, he inhaled deeply.

  Nothing out of place.

  Small animals, pine, oak, and cedar trees, and rotting leaves. With his enhanced sense of smell, he could scent a human or a vampire from a mile away. Dropping to one knee, he cupped his hand in the water and sipped the pure, icy liquid.

  No more bottled water. No more tasteless, gelatinous squares of protein. He savored simply being outside, but his thoughts continually turned to Evangeline.

  Why did he care so much for her? As his boots crunched into the thin layer of snow blanketing the ground, he replayed the events of the morning. He had gone too far. Lost control. He could still taste her on his lips.

  An unpleasant knot settled deep in his belly. Nerves, perhaps? Some sort of post-traumatic stress reaction to the vastness of the outdoors after years of being caged in silver? He pushed himself harder, breaking into a run as he followed the curve of the river, heading for their makeshift camp from the other night. The farther he went, the tighter his nerves stretched, until something snapped taut, and he skidded to a halt. Nausea roiled in his gut along with fear and unease. He had to go back. Had to get to Evangeline.

  Nic braced his hands on his thighs, fighting not to retch. Once he’d caught his breath, he straightened, scented the air, and started to run.

  Worry prickled along her skin, her constant companion since Nic had left. Evangeline loaded the shotgun, her
fingers trembling, and set it next to the locked front door before starting to pack. When she was done, they had enough room for at least a day’s worth of meat. She’d found some wax paper in one of the cabinets. The little food she had left from her escape wouldn’t last them long.

  A throbbing headache settled behind her eyes. Lingering dehydration? She drained the canteen and dropped onto the sofa, letting her head fall back to stare at the ceiling.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” A hard knot in her stomach twisted painfully, and she clenched her fists as a wave of dizziness threatened her vision.

  Italy. Nic wanted to bring her to Italy. She’d never even seen a city. Never ridden in a car, eaten at a restaurant, shopped at a grocery store. She knew all these things existed from books and movies, but how could she make such an important decision when her entire life had been spent below ground?

  Though, what else was she going to do? If she headed to Seattle, she’d still have to learn how to live in regular society. Friendly law enforcement or not, she’d have a lot of challenges ahead of her. If she went with Nic, at least she’d have a guide.

  As the dizziness passed, she fumbled for the canteen. Right. Empty. With the shotgun slung over her shoulder, she slipped out the back door and headed for the cistern.

  Rough wood scraped against the flesh of her palm as she opened the spigot and let the water flow. The soothing splashes reminded her of Nic’s hands on her skin, his kiss, and the wave of arousal she’d felt in her core.

  Whatever they were to one another, she’d risked her life for him, and though she didn’t know him well, a proud honor infused his every word and movement. This man—this vampire—would never harm her. He’d promised her that eighteen years ago.

  Italy. The ease with which her decision settled in her heart surprised her. She’d go with him. And figure the rest out later. They didn’t have any identification or money. How would they get on a plane?

  Water bubbled over the mouth of the canteen, and she capped the lid, rolling her shoulders to release the strange tension that spread across her back.

  The shot ripped through the flesh of her upper arm, and Evangeline yelped as burning pain consumed the left side of her body. Blood seeped into her shirt; she almost lost her hold on the shotgun as she raced for the cabin’s back door.

  “Eva! Stop!” Will shouted.

  How did they find me? Evangeline ducked behind the cabin door as a second shot splintered the wood a few inches from her head. She slammed the bolt closed and dove for the living room, putting another wall between her and the man who’d just shot her. Pawing at her left arm, she twisted her shirt to check the wound. Through-and-through, missing the bone. Thank God.

  “Eva, if you come out willingly, we won’t have to hurt you.”

  “Fuck off asshole. You just shot me,” she screamed. Keeping low, Evangeline crawled down the hall to the bathroom. Standing on the tub, she angled a gaze towards the back of the cabin.

  Nothing. No, wait. There. A rustle of trees marked Will’s presence behind a tree, and as she focused on him, she noted the rifle barrel pointed at the back door. She didn’t have a shot from here. Not with a shotgun.

  “Last chance. Your father wants you back. You and the vamp.”

  Oh God. The tracker.

  They knew about the cabin the whole time. With the tracker buried beneath her skin for years, her father knew everywhere she’d ever been. She only had one option now. Run. Hopefully, Will was alone.

  But what about Nic? Had he heard the shot? Creeping back to the front room, she was about to spring up when she caught movement through a crack in the drapes. Shit. With a tuck and roll, she came to rest in a crouch with her back pressed to the sofa.

  Shattering glass rained down, the sound oddly pleasant, despite the fear that stabbed through her heart. Wind gusted through the window as the back door splintered. Heavy footsteps pounded towards her. Trapped. Her left hand, bloody and slick, slipped off the stock as she tried to raise the gun.

  A bright flash and a concussive force left her ears ringing. Smoke filled the room. Landing on her ass, she saw stars and started to choke. Her eyes watered, and she only saw the gas-masked face a heartbeat before everything went black.

  Nic caught a man’s scent on his way back to the cabin and scouted for half an hour, trying to track the intruder, but the smell faded too quickly for him to get his bearings. Either that or he was rusty.

  Every minute he spent away from Evangeline heightened his panic, and he pushed himself faster, the landscape blurring around him as he left the river and turned north.

  At the bottom of the hill, terror stabbed through his heart. A foul odor tinged the air. The one scent he’d hoped never to smell again—the catacombs. And worse. Gunpowder. As he sprinted for the cabin, the odd electrical scent of the portal mixed with the earlier male odor and Evangeline’s blood.

  “Evangeline!” He sent every ounce of his mental strength into his silent call but heard nothing. Skirting a large rock, he swore as the cabin came into view.

  “Merda.” The cabin door lay in two pieces, its hinges bent and warped. Leaping over the splintered wood and into the living room, his foot landed in a pool of Evangeline’s blood. The faint scent of tear gas lingered in the air, and the shotgun, smeared with more of Evangeline’s blood, lay under the couch.

  He growled, a raw, animalistic sound, as he turned around in a circle, scanning the room for any clue, any hope that she might still be alive. “Longo, sei un bastardo. Ti ucciderò se la fai del male! If you have hurt her, I will show you no mercy.”

  So dark. Why couldn’t she see? Her headache made it hard to think, but after a few minutes, she realized she needed to open her eyes if she wanted to figure out where she was. Her hands ached; hundreds of needles stabbed her fingers. Her arms wouldn’t move. Shit. Thin, tight ropes chaffed her wrists as she twisted her hands. Her ankles wouldn’t move either.

  Nausea flared again, and smoke wafted over her from a campfire nearby. Evangeline struggled, and failed, to raise her head.

  Don’t panic. One thing at a time.

  She flexed her muscles, happy nothing seemed to be broken. Her left arm burned, and her head felt like someone had used it as a basketball, but she wasn’t seriously hurt.

  Off to her left, a campfire roared, and four of her father’s men huddled around the flames. Will, who’d offered his own daughter up as vampire bait, watched her, and he grinned when she met his gaze.

  “She’s awake.” Unfolding his large frame, he lumbered over to her. An angry scar bisected his lower lip, and it stretched almost comically when he smiled. Behind him, a smaller blond man, Jamison, rested a rifle on his shoulder.

  “Jamison, what the fuck are you doing?” Evangeline asked. The two hadn’t been close, but she’d always thought Jamison was a reasonable man. Unlike Will.

  Dropping to one knee, Jamison leaned close to her, his alcohol-soaked breath and stench of body odor making her gag. “We want the vampire. Where is he?”

  Evangeline tried to squirm away, but he grabbed her braid and hauled her up to sitting. She cried out as the pain prickled along her scalp. “Go to hell.” Meeting Jamison’s cold, brown eyes, she spat in his face.

  “You tell us, or we’ll make you bleed.” He shoved her head back, her skull hitting the large tree behind her. The bark dug into her scalp, and the world shimmered around her as tears welled.

  Evangeline shook her head, then immediately regretted the motion. “And what good is that going to do? If you kill me, Henry’s going to be pissed. He needs me for his precious serum, remember?” She tried working her wrists back and forth, hoping she’d be able to loosen the ropes, but she only succeeded in rubbing her skin raw.

  “Oh, we’re not going to kill you.” Will knelt as he pulled a knife from his belt. He grabbed her jaw and held her head still as she tried to shrink away from the blade coming towards her. The point of the knife pressed into her cheek, and she stifled her cry.

&
nbsp; Will traced a deep line along her cheekbone, almost to her lip. Once he’d marked her, he showed her the bloody knife before wiping it on her leg. Blood dripped onto her chest.

  “Vampires can discern scents over miles. Did you know that?” Will asked.

  It’s a trap. They’ve set a trap for Nic.

  “He’s too smart for you. Carve me up if you want. But waste my blood, and Henry will kill you.”

  Leo and Tyrone ambled over, carrying guns at the ready. Leo was only a few years older than Evangeline. They’d been friends, and he’d taught her to hunt, forage, and survive in the wilderness. Hell, she’d even kissed him once. But the thin lips that had been soft now pressed into a hard grimace.

  “Leo, don’t do this,” she begged. “Nic has a soul. He’s not evil. He hasn’t tried to bite me—not even when he was dying. His blood saved my life after the wolf attack. He’s a good man.”

  “Sorry. Henry’s orders. You’re coming back to the catacombs. Will baited another vamp, but the fucker died before we got him back to the lab. Henry needs you for the serum. He tried using Tamlyn. She almost died.” Leo shoved his hands into his pockets, his voice cracking on his last word. He loved Tamlyn.

  “You don’t need Nic. Bring me back. Do whatever the hell you want to me. But leave him out of this.”

  Will aimed a swift kick to her hip. “Nic? You’re on a first-name basis with that…thing? He doesn’t deserve a name.”

  He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.

  Dropping his voice to a whisper, Will got right in her face. “Henry wants him dead. The entire perimeter is rigged. He’ll come for you, and the silver mines we’ve buried will cut him to shreds. He won’t have the strength to fight us.”

  “Nic! Run! It’s a trap! Silv—”