by Kali Argent
“If that’s what you want,” he added hastily.
Kamara squeezed his hands. “Can I get back to you on that? I’m not saying no, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. I mean, I’ve know you for what? Less than a week?”
“Technically, you’ve known me for two years.”
She rolled her eyes so hard he could practically hear it.
“It was the same dream every time, and I didn’t even know you were real. I don’t think that counts.”
“Okay, fair enough.” Mercy, he loved the way she smiled. “What else would you like to know?”
Her dark eyes took on a faraway look, and her small frame tightened. Slipping into her thoughts, searching for the source of her sudden distress, Nikolai was once again met with nothing but a quiet, muffled hiss.
“Kamara.” Releasing her hands, he inched closer and cradled her face. “Kamara, look at me.” Maybe she was having a seizure. “Come on, cara mia, snap out of it.”
Several tense seconds passed before her muscles relaxed, and she began to blink rapidly. “I’m sorry. I guess I spaced out for a minute.”
She was lying. He could tell by the way her voice trembled and her heart fluttered, but he couldn’t imagine why’d she’d be untruthful. Maybe she really was ill, and she didn’t want him to worry.
Nikolai didn’t know many turned vampires, and he couldn’t say if their human afflictions carried over once they’d finished their transition. On the other hand, if they gained the ability to heal at a supernatural rate, logic dictated that alone should free any turned vampire from their former frailties.
“See? It’s catching.” Kamara laughed, but it sounded strained, forced. “What were you thinking?”
“I was trying to figure out why you’d lie to me.”
“Well, that was blunt.” When he didn’t respond, she eased away from him with a short huff. “You’re right, and I don’t want to lie to you, but there are just some things I’m not ready to share yet. Can we just leave it at that and move on for now?”
“For now.” Eventually, he’d earn her trust, but for the time being, he had no right to ask for more than she was willing to give.
“Next question.” Opening her mouth, she touched the tip of her left fang with her index finger. “How does this feeding thing work? I mean, it was necessary, and I’m grateful to Lynk, but I really didn’t like you feeding on him. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you feel the same way about me chomping on someone else.”
“I do.” The idea of Kamara feeding on someone other than him made his temples pound and his stomach twist into savage knots. “You can feed from me whenever you need.”
“That’s just it, though. If we’re biting each other, aren’t we just trading blood back and forth? Miles said that’s why you couldn’t feed from me when you were hurt.”
Nikolai had to laugh. Not because she’d said anything particularly humorous, but because if he didn’t, he might go hunt down the vampire and strange him. “Miles needs to keep his opinions to himself.”
“Was he wrong?”
No, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “We can continue to supplement with blood bags.”
Kamara’s olive complexion paled. “I don’t think I can do that, not when I know where those bags come from now.”
Nikolai had his suspicions that the Coalition-supplied bags were coming from the Abraxas’ blood farm, but he’d been careful not to share them with his mate. As always, she was too smart for her own good.
“I know it’s distasteful, but I don’t have many other options. Until we find an alternative solution, I will use the blood bags, and you can feed from me.”
“Again, that seems unfair.” She wrinkled her cute nose. “Let me think on this. There has to be a better way.”
“As you wish.”
“Is there another reason you don’t want to, you know?” Waving her hand around, she made biting motions with her mouth. “Bite me?”
In reality, he wanted nothing more, but he physically couldn’t, not for another month or so. “It’s nothing against you, cara mia.” Opening his mouth, he leaned his head back to reveal the nubs of his slowly growing fangs. “They’ll grow back,” he expounded, looking at her again, “but it’s an arduous process.”
“Lynk said something about that.” Scrambling up on her knees, Kamara grabbed his face in both hands and forced his head back again. “How did this happen?”
Not the introduction to his family he would have liked to provide, but she’d find out eventually. “My father is endlessly imaginative when it comes to doling out punishments.”
“Your dad did that to you?” Lowering her hands to her lap, she sat back on her heels, her eyes soft and sad. “I’m so sorry, Nik. Was he always like this?”
“For as long as I can remember.” Something about the way she said it made him think she had some experience in the matter of abusive parents. “Mother or father?”
“My dad,” she answered quietly, staring down at her lap. “He wasn’t always a dick, though. I think that makes it worse for me. I still remember when he was funny and charming. He used to take my sister and me out for ice cream every Friday when he came home from work.”
Nikolai tried to picture his father taking him and his siblings for ice cream, but the concept was so foreign he couldn’t even concoct a convincing fantasy. “What happened?”
“My mom died, and he couldn’t cope, so he started drinking. I was fourteen.”
“I’m sorry, cara mia. No one deserves that.”
“Yeah, well, I guess we have more in common than we thought.” She said it flippantly, but shadows still haunted her expression.
“Tell me something,” Nikolai said, hoping to change the topic and banish the haunted look from her gaze. “Where were you before you ended up in St. Louis?”
“Smooth, Nik. Very smooth.” She chuckled darkly and shook her head. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about the other day.” Still sitting back on her heels, she twisted her fingers together in her lap and gnawed on her bottom lip. “Ow,” she whined when one of her fangs pierced the flesh. “Crap. I forgot.”
Slipping a knuckle under her chin, he smoothed away the drop of blood on her lip with the pad of his thumb. “Hey, it can’t be that bad. Just say it. You’ll feel better, and trust me, whatever it is, I’ve done worse.”
Somehow Kamara doubted that Nikolai had ever done anything truly terrible in his entire life. He was too proper, too kind, and too good. Besides, her secret wasn’t something bad, like slaughtering a field of baby bunnies. In fact, she was rather proud of the time she’d spent with the Valkyrie. Mostly, she worried he wouldn’t understand, or that he’d jump to conclusions and condemn her before giving her a chance to explain.
“Before I was abducted by the werewolves, I was with a group of humans.” She had to say it, and she saw no sense beating around the bush about it. “I was with Hunters.”
As she’d expected, Nikolai tensed, his expression blanked, and he pulled his hand back from her face.
“No, wait.” Catching him by the wrist, she held his hand between both of her own, squeezing it like a lifeline. “Just listen, okay? It’s not what you think.”
“You were their prisoner?” By his tone, he didn’t honestly believe that, but he was clearly grasping at anything to make sense of what she’d told him.
“No, I wasn’t their prisoner, but Nik, listen to me. I’m telling you, they’re not like the Hunters you know. They’re a lot like the Revenant, actually.”
“I’m sorry, Kamara, but I find that hard to believe. Hunters have tortured and killed more of my kind than you can count.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for that, but you have to admit that the Gemini aren’t exactly innocent in all of this. There is good and bad, righteous and evil, in all races.”
Nikolai held her gaze as he inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his parted lips. “I trust you,” he finally whispered. “
I’m listening.”
“They call themselves the Valkyrie. It’s just a small group, nine at last count, not including me.” They were all sons and daughters of dutiful Hunters, and they’d grown up in that life, being taught to fear and hate the Gemini. “After the Purge, they were finally able to break free, and they use their training to help people. Vampires, werewolves, humans, it doesn’t matter.”
“And you’ve seen this with your own eyes?”
She didn’t blame him for being skeptical, but she wouldn’t have stayed if they’d been killing innocents. “Yes, I’ve seen it. That’s how I got caught in Missouri. We were moving a group of kids through the state to Kansas City.”
Nikolai tensed again, and his eyes narrowed at the corners. “Why Kansas City?”
“They’d heard there was a safe house there, a place for people in trouble.” The Valkyrie didn’t have the same resources at the Revenant, no safe houses or hidden bunkers stocked with needed supplies. “They thought the kids would be taken care of there.”
“How did you hear about this place?”
Since learning that Luca had once commanded said haven in Kansas City, she understood why Nikolai looked so concerned. Unfortunately, she didn’t have an answer that would appease him.
“I don’t know. They didn’t say, and I didn’t ask.” Squeezing his hand again, she scooted across the cushions, inching closer to him.
He didn’t pull away, but he met her gaze with a manner of scrutiny. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
She almost hadn’t. She’d anticipated Nikolai’s reaction, and if he was the calmest of the group, she could only imagine how the others would receive the information. It was unlikely the two groups would ever cross paths, and at first, it hadn’t been worth causing discord and disruption.
Abby was missing. Kamara had promised to watch out for her, to protect her, and while it had been out of her control, she’d been disastrously unsuccessful the first time. She wouldn’t fail again. In that, she could empathize with Cade.
“I’m telling you because I think they can help us rescue Abby.”
“No.” A muscle in his jaw ticked, and a rigid mask settled over his handsome face. “We’re not going to Hunters for help, and I don’t think you should mention this to the others.”
She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, like he’d been blinded and could just now see her clearly. It made her stomach knot and her chest tighten painfully.
“Nik, we need the numbers.”
“I said no.” He stood, turning without another word, and strode down the short hallway to the front door.
“Nik!”
But he was already gone, disappearing and slamming the door closed behind him.
“That went well,” she muttered to the empty living room.
Still seated on the sofa, she buried her face in her hands and groaned. She’d expected him to be resistant to the idea. Hell, she’d have been more concerned if he hadn’t shown at least a measure of dubiousness. She hadn’t, however, anticipated his anger.
Her mother had always taught her to accept responsibility for her mistakes and do what she could to right her wrongs. While she didn’t necessarily believe she’d been in the wrong, she could have approached the idea with a bit more finesse.
She needed to find him, talk to him, and…something. It wasn’t as if she could force him to see things the way she did, and she wouldn’t want to anyway. An apology would be empty. Platitudes would likely cause another argument. They couldn’t ignore what had been said, and things couldn’t remain as they were.
“He’s never going to believe you. Can’t you see? He’s turned against you.”
“Shut up,” she hissed.
“What will you do when he finds out about your other secret? What happens when he finds out about me? You saw the way he looked at you.”
“Shut up!”
The voice in her head had been growing louder and stronger, writhing like a snake inside her brain.
On one thing, however, she agreed with the voice. Nikolai and the others couldn’t know. They were already half afraid that she’d snap and try to attack them. If they found out that she was hallucinating voices, that she could feel this cold, evilness lurking inside her, they’d never look at her the same again.
She couldn’t think about that, not now. Somehow, she’d find a way to free herself of the burden, and in the meantime, she’d have to work harder to stay in control. Right then, however, she had to make things right with Nikolai.
Heaving up from the sofa, she steeled herself for the confrontation to come, then went in search of her very pissed off mate.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Night was coming.
The gleaming rays of sunlight had faded, darkening the sky to a pale, cloudless gray. Nocturnal animals emerged from their homes, scurrying about in the trees that surrounded the cabin, and the birds chirped their last songs of a dying day from the barren treetops.
It was peaceful, serene, but Nikolai couldn’t enjoy it.
He’d reacted poorly to her confession, but he couldn’t believe that a group of Hunters would suddenly be interested in helping Gemini. Long before the Purge, before the rest of the world had known about the paranormal races, Hunters had set out to eradicate the Geminis from the planet, one monster at a time. They’d slaughtered entire werewolf packs. They’d hunted some shifter bloodlines to extinction. Vampires were tortured and executed for the crime of merely existing.
He couldn’t just forgive that because of one conversation, and he would never willing walk into a den of Hunters and ask for their help. They had no honor. They killed without mercy or conscience, murdering women and children in their misguided quest to save the world. He’d witnessed firsthand their thirst for violence, and he’d sworn he’d never fall victim to their savageness again.
It wasn’t just him, either. Thea and Rhys had both lost parents to Hunters, and Thea had nearly lost her life. All six of Lynk’s siblings had been murdered by Hunters. Likely, the other Revenant members had horror stories of their own, but it wasn’t something they talked about over dinner.
He didn’t hold all humans accountable for the actions of a few, but working with Hunters, trusting them, that was asking for more than he could give.
Footsteps approached from behind him, the sound muffled on the dirt driveway, but he didn’t turn. Even if he couldn’t hear her thoughts, he’d recognize Kamara’s scent anywhere.
She stopped several feet away and called his name. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I want to get Abby back as much as anyone. I was just trying to help.”
“We’ll save Abby.” He kept his back to her, his head down, but he knew she’d hear him. “We’ll do it like we saved you. Like we saved the others in St. Louis. We’ll get her back, and it won’t be with the help of thieves and murders.”
“I get why you think that, but the Valkyrie aren’t like that. Do you think I’d stay with them if they were?”
“They’re all like that!” he exploded, whirling around and striding toward her. “All of them. They take what they want. They kill without remorse. Children, Kamara. They execute children with smiles on their faces and malice in their hearts.”
He had to give her credit. She didn’t flinch away, nor did she back down. If anything, his outburst only seemed to anger her.
“Given what I know about the Abraxas coven, I could say the same about vampires. That doesn’t make it true.”
“That’s different.” His upper lip curled, and he snarled at her. “I don’t hold all humans responsible. Just Hunters. It’s what they do, Kamara. It’s who they are.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Nikolai fought to rein in his temper, but goddess above, she was infuriating. “They killed my mother,” he said coldly, enunciating each word. “I was seven years old when they took her. We found her three days later, gutted and mutilated in the woods.”
“Oh, Nik, that’s awful.�
� Moisture welled along her lower lashes as she reached out to touch his arm.
It only got worse. “She was six months pregnant.”
Kamara gasped, and she stopped moving, her hand hovering a few inches from his forearm. The tears she’d been battling spilled over, streaming down her cheeks and leaving treks on her skin that glistened in the moonlight.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered thickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I won’t bring it up again.”
Nikolai sighed, his ire suddenly deflating. “Come here, cara mia.” Pulling his mate into his arms, he held her tight, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “I’m sorry, too. If it makes any difference, I believe you. At least, I believe you think these Hunters are different. I hope you understand why I can’t trust them, though.”
“I do.” Her lips moved against his collarbone, her breath warm against his skin. “I understand. We’ll find another way.”
“Come. It’s getting colder.”
“Okay,” she murmured. “You should probably grab another blood bag, too. Your skin is cold, and you’re a little pale.”
It had only been a few hours since he’d last fed, but she wasn’t wrong. The single blood bag he’d consumed that morning hadn’t even replenished what he’d willingly donated to his mate.
“I’ll be okay.”
He could make it for a couple more days. Staying off the grid meant everyone had to make sacrifices, including the conservation of the few blood bags they had on hand. If they depleted the meager stores in the cabin’s freezer, Nikolai didn’t know when or if they’d be able to replace the crimson pouches.
“You could feed on me,” she offered as he led her back into the cabin.
“I couldn’t,” he refuted, “even if that was a good idea.”
She was barely out of her transition, and for the first couple of weeks, she’d need to feed more often than him or Miles. Taking what her body couldn’t afford to give wouldn’t do either of them any favors.