“Stay away. Just stay over there, and we’ll be fine.”
Nic fumbled for the canteen, almost losing it in the rushing river. “Did you say something?”
“No…” Evangeline’s brows knit, and he ached to smooth the little furrow away. “Dammit. We’ve got to get the fuck away from each other.”
This time, he held no illusions. “That…is unexpected.”
“Shit. You hear me, don’t you?” As a harsh, frustrated sound escaped her lips, she sprang to her feet and started jogging away from the river. Nic let her go but listened for any signs of trouble. He could reach her in a few seconds if he had to, and he wouldn’t let her go far. Just far enough to feel the pain of separation.
His stomach tied into a knot, and his heart started to race. Sweat dampened his palms. “Evangeline, please stop.”
“Fuck you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Nic sped after her. In seconds, he found her leaning against one of the thicker trees, her hands resting on her thighs, doubled over. He curled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” she said, her voice unsteady. “How do bonded vampires work? Do anything? I was less than half a mile away.”
Feathering a gentle kiss to her temple, Nic smiled. The dappled light highlighted her hair, exposing a dozen different shades of brown. Her eyes sparkled—both tears and desire—and he ached to ravage her again.
With the trees swishing gently in the breeze and the river gurgling a calming melody, he wondered if his life could be any more perfect than it felt at this moment.
“The bonding process forces this closeness. If we were to complete the bond, we could be farther apart. Though…other side effects would strengthen.” Touching her cheek settled him like a warm blanket, and she relaxed against him.
“I didn’t want this. I just wanted to be…free.”
Merda. How could he condemn his beautiful human to a life she hadn’t chosen—again? He was about to release her when his sensitive hearing picked up crashing, uneven footfalls approaching rapidly from the east.
“Climb,” he hissed and spun Evangeline around. The tall, leggy pine provided ample handholds, and she wrapped her fingers around a strong branch. Nic grabbed her calves and boosted her up as high as he could.
Evangeline pulled herself up to a v in the trunk ten feet off the ground. Once she was safe, Nic crouched, his muscles coiling, then sprang, rising six feet in one leap and catching a branch a few feet away from her. As quietly as he could, he made his way over to her.
“What is it?” Evangeline whispered.
Nic pressed his finger to her lips. “I hear someone running. He smells of the catacombs.”
“One?”
Nodding, he slipped the knife from its sheath, and Evangeline pulled the shotgun from her back. A bird took flight from above, but Nic focused on nothing but his prey. He wouldn’t let anyone from the catacombs threaten his mate.
Seconds later, a man—barely more than a boy—stumbled towards the river and fell to his knees, slurping huge gulps of water from his cupped hands. He carried no pack, no jacket, and his thin shirt was ripped in several places.
Evangeline laid her fingers over his wrist. “Jeremy. He’s a kid. Seventeen.”
All members of the catacombs—other than Evangeline—shared the same space in his memories. Dangerous, dark, and painful spaces he couldn’t let himself revisit. The bonding pummeled his emotions, and his instincts demanded all other males keep their distance. A very large distance. Merda. The bonding had progressed so far.
“There are no others,” he said to her mind.
“I’m going down. He won’t hurt me.”
Nic shook his head, gripping her wrist hard enough she winced until he released her. “Too dangerous.”
“He’s a child,” she hissed. She slung the shotgun’s strap over her shoulders. Scrambling down the branches, she dropped the last five feet, landing in a crouch and whipping the shotgun around again.
“Jeremy.”
The boy whirled around, his left foot slipping on a rock. He landed in the river with a splash and a yelp.
“I won’t hurt you,” she said. “Calm down.”
“Please don’t bite me. I don’t want to die,” the boy whimpered as he held his hands up.
“Huh?” She shook her head. “I’m not going to bite you. Where did you get that stupid idea from?”
Jeremy pulled the dagger from his belt, his hand shaking violently as he brandished the blade too close to Evangeline for Nic’s comfort. “You’re a fucking vampire.”
“I’m not a fucking vampire,” Evangeline spat.
The disdain in her voice stabbed through Nic’s heart. She might want him, need him even, but had he been wrong about her heart? A fucking vampire. Merda. He’d been ready to claim his Evangeline—her humanity be damned. But if she hated him…
“Yes, you are,” the boy whimpered as he tried to back away. “You’re a vampire.”
“She’s not.” Nic dropped from the tree, landing silently at Evangeline’s side. “But I am.”
21
Jeremy backed up, still brandishing the knife, until he hit a tree, then he yelped.
“You’re…him.”
“Him? If you mean the man your leader tortured for eighteen years, then si. I am. I am also a fucking vampire.” Nic stalked towards Jeremy. “I will not bite you. However, I do want to know what the hell you are doing out here and how you found us.”
“Found you? I didn’t find you. You’re the ones who dropped out of a tree.”
Evangeline brushed Nic’s arm, and he jerked away from her, despite his instinct to grab her and carry her away from the boy. Her shock hit him like a physical force, but she shook off the emotion and held out her hand for Jeremy. “Answer him. What are you doing here?”
“Henry’s really angry.” Jeremy’s gaze never left Nic’s face. “He said the vamp had escaped and turned you, Eva. He’s evil.”
“Who?” Nic said with wry amusement. “The soulless monster who thought keeping another living being caged and torturing him was justified? Or me?”
“Are you going to turn me now? Whatever you’re doing to do…just do it quick, okay?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Evangeline said as she rolled her eyes. “He’s not going to turn you or control you. This is Nic—Nicola Angliatti. He’s not evil.”
“Perhaps I am,” Nic said, unable to keep the harsh edge from his voice. “But that does not mean I have any plans to harm you. Does Longo know where we are?”
Jeremy looked from Nic to Evangeline and back again. He started to shake uncontrollably, and Evangeline rushed over to him and caught him before he collapsed. “Wait.” She glanced back at Nic. “We have to get his tracker out first.”
Merda. He’d forgotten about those damn trackers. “Do it quickly. If we throw it in the river, the current should carry it away from us.”
“Wh-what tracker?” Jeremy asked. His skin had paled, and Evangeline pulled up his shirt.
Jealousy flooded Nic. Despite the hurt her words had caused, he didn’t want his life mate touching another male.
“Every resident has a tracker embedded in them somewhere. Henry’s doing,” Evangeline said sharply.
The boy’s mouth fell open. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Nic stepped forward, his voice a low growl.
Jeremy’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how I got out here. When Henry said you’d been turned, I kind of…lost it. I punched him. Will knocked me out. I woke up in the forest a few hours ago. I found the river, and I just kept going. I thought Henry might come after me. But maybe…he was hoping I’d find you?”
Evangeline spun the knife in her hand as she instructed Jeremy to turn around. Her fingers smoothed over the boy’s skin. Nic seethed at the contact. His base instincts demanded he toss the boy into the river, but he clenched his fists and forced slow, deep breaths. Evangeline had
to remove the tracker.
“Here it is,” she murmured as she probed a spot below Jeremy’s right shoulder. “This is going to hurt a little.”
Jeremy nodded. Blood welled around the tip of the knife and a silver pellet smaller than her fingernail slid into her palm. She tossed the tracker into the river as Jeremy shivered. “Shit. I don’t…feel…”
Blood gushed from the wound. So much more than the small cut warranted. Evangeline pressed her hand to the cut. Fear clouded her eyes as she looked to Nic for help.
“There are no major arteries in that area,” he said to her mind. Taking a step forward, he let his fangs descend and punctured his wrist. “Drink,” he said to the boy. “A single sip of my blood will heal you. It will not turn you. Believe me when I say that if I wanted to turn you, you would be unable to stop me.”
Evangeline nodded, and Jeremy leaned forward, apprehension churning in his watery gaze. Up close, the boy’s blood smelled…wrong. But not until the boy’s lips touched his skin did Nic understand.
As Jeremy’s saliva mixed with Nic’s blood, nausea hit him, and he stumbled back, then fell on his ass.
“Evangeline…there is…something wrong with the boy,” he managed. “In his saliva.” Nic turned onto his side and vomited. The weakness started in his fingers, then spread up his arms. Memories flooded him: helplessness, despair, weakness. All those times Longo would break his bones, burn him, bleed him.
“Nic!”
His skin felt as if it were cracking into a million pieces. He wasn’t sure he could stand. “The serum. Not enough to kill me. But had I drank from him…” Crawling away a few feet, Nic squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stave off the dizziness.
“Talk to me.” Her fear snaked around his heart, and he held up a white-knuckled hand.
“A moment.” Nic clawed his way to the river, thrusting his arm into the icy waters. As he rinsed his mouth out, he glanced over at Evangeline and the boy.
She had Jeremy’s shirt pressed to the small wound, but even that wasn’t working. The pale flannel was soaked through with blood, and as he watched, Jeremy toppled over and started to moan.
“He’s getting worse. I don’t know how to stop the bleeding.” Tears stained her cheeks, and as she turned her gaze to his, Nic didn’t know how he could have ever believed she hated him. The honesty—and pure need—in her eyes soothed his frustration, and he forced himself to his feet, wavering for a step or two until his stomach settled.
“I cannot touch him, cara. Or you. The serum could weaken me so severely, I could not protect you. Even now…the pain has not left me.”
“Serum?” Jeremy asked as he tried to curl into a ball. “Henry…said…something about the…serum…being ready.” The boy coughed, and blood trickled down his chin. “Phase…two.”
“What else did he say?” Evangeline knelt next to Jeremy and cupped his cheeks. Nic listened and caught the beginnings of a death rattle in the child’s lungs.
“Didn’t need…you…any—” Jeremy’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he started to convulse.
“Jeremy! Stay with me!” Evangeline grabbed his shoulders, trying to keep him steady.
His body jerked and writhed on the ground. Foam mixed with the blood at his lips. Gurgles and gasps could only be the final throes of death about to take him.
“Evangeline.”
She slapped Jeremy’s cheek, leaned over, and pinched his nose, preparing to give him CPR. “Stop!” Nic shouted to her mind. He didn’t care that she’d been used to incubate the serum. This…this horror was something new. Something more evil than he’d ever imagined.
The shock of his order in her head stopped her, and she sat back on her heels with silent tears trailing down her cheeks.
The boy’s face turned a deep purple, then faded to blue. A stain darkened his pants as he pissed himself, and then with a single, violent shudder, he exhaled quietly, then lay still.
Evangeline stood, and Nic ached to take her into his arms, but he feared being that close to the blood covering her hands and forearms.
His weakness had started to subside, but with his perfect memory, his torture lingered at the forefront of his mind.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Heading to the river, she dipped her hands, arms, and even her face into the icy water. “My father killed him. Drugged him. Shot him full of serum. Sent him out into the wilderness.”
“We cannot stay here.” He hadn’t meant to sound so callous, but with the boy dead, his only worry was for Evangeline now. “If Longo sent the boy out as a trap, he will not be far away.” Withdrawing the knife from his belt, he knelt next to the body.
“Nic, don’t.” She rushed for him, grabbed his hand, and tried to keep him away from the boy. “Don’t touch him.”
“I have to take off his head, cara.” Nic cupped her cheek with his free hand. “If there are any other vampires in the area, this will warn them away.”
“I’ll do it. If you touch his blood…”
Nic worried at her quiet, resigned tone, but he couldn’t argue with her caution. “Very well. Be careful.”
Once she’d cleaned the knife—and her hands again—they trudged out of the clearing, keeping to the edges of the riverbed to hide their tracks.
For two hours, neither one of them spoke. Nic couldn’t pull himself out of his memories. Evangeline’s sorrow was a bitter taste on his tongue, and he tried a dozen times to say something—anything—that would calm her.
With a bleary gaze, he scanned the next mile, praying they’d moved quickly enough so Longo couldn’t follow them. He rubbed his eyes, stared again.
“Stop,” Evangeline said as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist.
He paused and turned to her. “We cannot afford much time. I will not feel comfortable until we have found a phone and shelter.”
“I know. Neither will I. But you’re slowing down. You need blood.” She brushed her hair off of her neck, and Nic’s gaze zeroed in on her pulse thudding under her creamy skin.
“No.”
“Goddammit.” Nic flinched at her curse. “You’re a stubborn idiot, you know that? Jeremy was full of serum, and you tried to save him. You need blood. Why won’t you feed from me?”
He had to know for sure. Every time he looked into her eyes, he saw honesty, respect, maybe even the beginnings of love. But her words…
“I will not feed from you again. Not when you cannot stand who and what I am.” His voice roughened, and he ran a hand through his hair, unsure how he could ever let her go—even if she hated him.
“Where did you get that idea?”
His emotions spilled over. Years of suffering and pain, of fear, of never knowing whether he’d see another day. “From you. ‘I’m not a fucking vampire.’ Clearly fucking a vampire does not translate into caring for one. Once we get to a phone, I will call Carlo. He will bring me blood.” Nic stalked away, continuing down the river.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Evangeline muttered. She caught up to him and planted herself in front of him. “Stop.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. Every cell in his body wanted her. He could smell her sweet scent over the boy’s blood. A lump in his throat threatened to choke him. The control he had imposed on his mind and his heart over more than eight hundred years slipped through his fingers as she grabbed his forearms. “Remove your hands from me, Evangeline,” he warned.
“No.” She rocked up onto her toes and brushed her lips to his. If he had to, he would beg her for acceptance, for her love, for anything she would possibly give him. Her fingers slid up to caress the back of his neck, threading through his hair. “Nic,” she whispered. “I do care for you. So much it scares me.”
“You said…”
“I know what I said. I’m scared. And on the run with a man I’ve known my whole life—but only really met a week ago. Nothing makes any sense. We’re bonding. This mark on my neck…I can feel it all the time. And I like the feeling. But I’m terrified what it means
. I want you. I need you.”
The touch of her skin, the very essence of his Evangeline wove all around him. “You should not want me, Evangeline. I have killed two times in as many days. I killed the old man when I was made. I killed my sire. I am not a good man.” He couldn’t help the dark edge to his voice.
Evangeline shook her head. “You can keep torturing yourself all you want, but that’s not going to stop me from caring about you. You killed the woman who stole your own life—who killed your son. You went mad with hunger. Why are you blaming yourself for that? Will and Jamison tortured me to get to you. On Henry’s orders.” Her voice wobbled, and her fingers trembled on his neck. “Now for fuck’s sake, stop being so hard on yourself and feed.” A tear hung from the corner of her eye, fat and shimmering, and Nic brushed the moisture away with his thumb.
“Cara.” Slowly and deliberately, Evangeline drew her hair back. She angled her head, never breaking eye contact. The marks on her neck glowed in the evening light. His marks. If they were to be life mates, she would feed him regularly. He would never take another’s blood ever again. A possessive growl started low in his throat as his fangs descended. As gently as possible, he sank them into her skin.
Evangeline’s knees buckled, but Nic held her tightly until his saliva dulled the pain. Such an odd, but satisfying feeling, pulling from your lover’s veins. She floated in his arms, almost in a trance. He took several deep pulls, then laved a trail over the marks with his tongue.
“I can feel your heart, tesoro. When I touch you, I feel the truth of your emotions. And I can forget—at least for a moment—what that bastard did to me.” He caressed her cheek. “I should not have been so hard on you, but I could not stand the idea that you hated me.”
“I don’t hate you. I just don’t know how to handle having a vampire…err…whatever we are.”
“We are life mates. Whether we complete the bonding or not, that is what we are. What we will always be.” Nic took her in his arms, claiming her with his mouth. When he pulled away, she made a small sound of protest, and he smiled. “I am well now. Let me carry you for a few minutes, si?”
Secrets in Blood Page 18