Vampire Undone

by Shannon Curtis

  A rock skittered across the floor of the cave. He froze, heart pounding. He could hear it. The soft pad of paws across the dirt. A low growl rumbled through the cave. The hair on the back of his neck rose. He kept his gaze glued to that rocky outcropping, muscles tense. A puff of steam, like an exhalation in the cold air, drifted around the wall. He shifted closer to the wall behind him, wincing with effort. A snout appeared, fangs visible and dripping with saliva. His own incisors lengthened as the werewolf that had bitten him prowled around the corner.

  Rage at the audacity of the wolf rolled over him and bitter hatred fogged his brain. He’d done this to him. The lycan’s eyes glowed golden in the dark cave. Lucien flashed his eyes then heaved forward as the wolf attacked. They rolled on the ground, wrestling and growling. Lucien screamed in rage as the wolf bit his hand. He grabbed hold of the lycan’s snout, wrenching back and feeling, hearing, the neck snap. He glared down at his hands, only to find them empty.

  He panted in confusion, gazing wildly around. Where did he go? Where did that stinking mongrel of a fleabag go? A sickening dizziness swept over him and he blinked. Slowly. So tired.

  “Lucien,” a voice whispered to him in the darkness. A familiar voice. Sweet, soft. He opened his eyes to stare at the little girl in the hospital gown who knelt by his side. She had an IV line hooked up to her chest, the port beneath her gown, and he stared, fascinated, at the red fluid inside the tube.

  “You don’t look so good,” she said, touching his forehead lightly.

  “I lost a fight,” he said, wheezing with laughter. He was in a bad way. He needed blood to heal.

  “I should call a nurse,” she said, looking around. He glanced around, too, eyes widening when he realized he wasn’t in a cave anymore but in a hospital room. There was something oddly familiar about it. The little girl reached for the call button, but he covered her hand with his.

  “Don’t,” he said in a gentle voice.

  “But you look sick, too,” she said.

  He eyed her curiously. He could smell illness in her. He couldn’t drink from her; her blood was tainted. He had to disregard her as a potential food source. He smiled, hiding his frustration. “What’s your name?”

  “Nina. What’s yours?” The girl tilted her bald head in curiosity.

  “Lucien.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” she asked him. Nothing like a direct question from a kid. Where did he begin? He’d lost a fight with Mikhail Petrowski, and his father would be furious.

  He gestured to the IV. “I need blood, just like you.”

  Her eyebrows dipped and she eyed him intently for a moment. She slid her hand beneath the neckline of her gown and he heard a little click and pop. Crimson bloomed on the fabric of her gown near her shoulder, and she withdrew the IV line from her chest, offering it to him. Blood dripped over her fingers, the tantalizing scent fogging his brain, and he had to clench his muscles to stop ravaging the girl, sick or not.

  He leaned back against the wall. “What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.

  She offered it again, stepping closer. “Take it. You need it.” Her eyes traveled over his body, his blood-stained clothes. “I think you need it more than I do.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.” If he took blood from an ill kid, what kind of monster did that make him?

  Nina sighed. “I’m dying,” she stated matter-of-factly. “They don’t think I know, but I do.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I lost my hair. I hurt. And chemo makes me sick. Everyone tries to hide it from me, but I know. It’s not working. I can’t see my friends, I can’t go out and play...” She sniffed and lifted her chin. “I’m dying. I can’t be fixed. But you can be. Take it.”

  He was touched by her gesture in a way he hadn’t been for years. He wanted to reach out and pat her in an attempt to make her feel better—an instinct he couldn’t actually remember having—but that just seemed awkward. He crouched so they were on eye level.

  “I owe you one,” he said softly. “And a Marchetta always pays his debts.”

  She frowned. “What’s a Marchetta?”

  He chuckled, the sound surprising him. He didn’t laugh often. “I’m a Marchetta. What would you like in return for this?”

  She narrowed her eyes as she met his gaze. “Will you play a game with me?” she asked hopefully.

  He gaped. “You could have anything, and you want to play a game?”

  She shrugged. “My parents don’t want me to get too tired, so I don’t get to play much.” Her nose wrinkled. “But I’m not dead yet.”

  He laughed, low and husky, then nodded. “Fair enough. A game. Although I think I get the better end of the deal,” he told her.

  “Two games,” she added hurriedly.

  He smiled. “As many games as you want,” he told her, and she nodded.

  “Deal.” She offered the IV line again and he held it to his lips and sipped.

  Something bitter and acrid filled his mouth and he coughed in disgust.

  “Shh, drink it up, Luc.”

  A hand gripped his chin, lowering his jaw, and more of the foul-tasting liquid entered his mouth. His chin was raised and he was forced to drink the concoction.

  He blinked and Natalie’s face swam into focus.

  “Nina,” he gasped.

  She gazed at him, worried. “Natalie,” she corrected.

  “Uh, yeah, sorry. Natalie,” he repeated. He grimaced. “God, that blood tasted disgusting.”

  “It wasn’t blood, Lucien,” she said, concerned as she surveyed his face. She touched his forehead then his cheek with the back of her hand. “I found the plants and made a tea. I found an arroyo a ways off the road.”

  His heart hammered in his chest. “You found it?” he murmured, amazed. She smoothed some hair off his forehead and nodded. “I did. You’re going to be fine, now rest.” He noted her tone was more hopeful than confident.

  He closed his eyes, smiling. “You’re my saving grace,” he whispered as he let the dark wave claim him again.

  * * *

  Natalie glanced at her watch again then turned back to her patient. Lucien was sleeping fitfully, muttering away. How long would it take for the antidote to kick in? It had been just over three hours since she’d forced it down his throat. She shook her head. Not once had she ever expected to see Lucien in this state. For an undead, he was so full of life, so vibrant. Even now his broad shoulders and biceps suggested strength she knew was rapidly depleting.

  She touched his forehead again, jerking her hand back. Hell, he was on fire. She hoped that was a sign of a reaction, somewhere; that the Lupinus ignis was doing its job.

  She glanced back toward the cave entrance. It was midday, the sun high overhead, the rest of the cave cool and dim. As soon as the sun set, she’d haul Lucien back into the car and hightail it out of there, before any more shadow breeds came for a visit. Not that they were bound by night, like the vamps were, but it was blistering hot out there. She didn’t think any of them would be interested in picking a fight in this heat.

  “I will kill you for what you did to her,” Lucien roared as he sat up and Natalie started, turning back to him. His eyes glowed red as he glared at her and his incisors lengthened.

  “Hey, it’s okay, Luc. It’s just me,” she said in a soothing voice.

  “Your sick vampire friend isn’t here to protect you, but don’t worry, I’ll track him down, too,” he snarled.

  Natalie’s blood chilled in her veins as she realized he didn’t see her, didn’t know where he was. She swallowed. “What...what do you mean?” she managed to ask.

  “Your biggest mistake was thinking you could get away with killing her,” he rasped, his voice low and gravelly. “She was very important to me—you took her from me.” His eyes took on a dull, soulless look. “And for that, you
die.” He reared toward her.

  Natalie dodged him, staring in shock as he collapsed at her side, unconscious again. Did he...did he mean the werewolf who’d killed her? She frowned in confusion. She had seen the reports of that particular lycan’s body being found, viciously attacked, but she’d assumed it had been his accomplice who’d done the damage. But...had Lucien tracked him down and killed him? It certainly seemed that way.

  She rolled him on to his back and one of his buttons popped, revealing more of his chest. She gasped, ripping the rest of his shirt open. Oh, God, no. His torso was turning gray, the veins black. A lump rose in her throat. The plant wasn’t working. Tears filled her eyes at the realization and she lifted his head to cradle his upper body in her lap.

  His eyelids flickered and she stiffened as he looked up at her. Relief relaxed her shoulders when she saw the cool blue shade of her friend and not the blood-red predator. His features were haggard as he stared up at her and shook his head.

  “Natalie?” His voice was uncertain, as though he wasn’t sure if he could trust his eyes.

  She nodded, smoothing back his hair. “Yes, it’s me.”

  “You need to leave me,” he said, his voice a dry croak. She leaned over to grab the bottle of water but he stayed her hand. “No. Listen to me, Natalie. I—” He coughed, the hacking sound harsh within the cave. “I’m getting worse. You need to go.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not going leave you,” she whispered stubbornly.

  He closed his eyes briefly, as though pained. “You need to. I’m dreaming. I don’t know what’s real and...and what’s not. You need to go, before I hurt you.”

  “No, I’m not leaving you, Lucien.”

  “Luc,” he demanded, and she smiled.

  “Luc.”

  “I’m ordering you to leave,” he said, frowning, injecting his voice with more strength.

  “You keep ordering me to do things as though you think I will,” she said gently, smiling down at him. “I—I can’t leave you, Luc. I’m not ready,” she told him honestly.

  A tear welled in his eye and he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m losing it, Natalie, and I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “Shh—”

  “You keep shushing me as though you think I will,” he shot back, a weak smile teasing at his lips. Then his expression grew serious. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for threatening your friends. That was not good of me. Please. I dragged you out here, I put you in danger. Forgive me?”

  “Stop it,” she cried softly, tears running down her face. Lucien was always so confident, so cocksure, and him seeking forgiveness rammed home the reality of the situation in a way nothing else could. “There’s nothing to forgive you for, but if you think you need it, it’s yours. I forgive you.”

  He closed his eyes for a painful moment. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a determined jut to his chin. “My father—he wants to kill you,” he rasped. “He wasn’t always like that. You need to know that.” He took a shuddering breath. “I’ve tried to fix what I broke.” He rubbed his lips together. “Promise me you won’t go home.”

  She shook her head, clenching her jaws together to prevent her sobs from leaching out.

  He grasped her hand with surprising strength, his gaze fierce. “I have money in the car. Enough money for you to start your life over ten times. That’s what you do, Natalie. You run, and you don’t let my father or Enzo find you. I need you to be safe.” He shook her hand. “Promise me,” he hissed. “Let me do this right, just once, Natalie. Let me protect you.”

  This time she couldn’t hold back the sobs as she leaned over and hugged him. “I don’t want you to die,” she wailed.

  His hand smoothed her hair. “Shh. I don’t want to die, either,” he admitted. “I wanted to save my sister. I wanted my father to forgive me.” He tugged gently on her hair and she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “I wanted forever with you,” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheek to mingle with the perspiration. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get that with you. I love you, Natalie.”

  “I love you, Luc. Stay with me,” she sobbed. “Please, stay with me.” She stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes, turning his face into her touch. “Please, just until sunset. Stay with me.”

  “I’ll try,” he promised, although his eyelids fluttered as though too weak to lift. “I love you,” he sighed. Then grimaced.

  Natalie sat up, anxious as his back arched. His eyes opened, flashing red, his incisors lengthened and he growled, the agonized sound echoing through the cave.

  He rolled off her, twitching as his muscles spasmed. She shrieked as she heard the bones pop, break. He convulsed, his voice emerging from his throat in a gutteral roar that was unrecognizable. He lay on his stomach, growling at her, lurching toward her.

  Natalie scrambled back as he advanced, heart thudding in her chest as she realized Lucien’s vampiric nature had consumed him. There was no sign of humanity in his eyes, just manic bloodthirst. She sobbed, hustling along the rock wall as he tried to crawl after her, growling and whimpering as another spasm racked his body.

  He arched back on his knees, arms raised, and she heard the ripple effect of his vertebrae cracking. Blood seeped from his nose and ears, and she covered her mouth, sobbing almost hysterically as he took a slow, painful breath and collapsed.

  The red glow diminished until the crystal-blue irises stared up at her. His mouth opened a couple of times. She reached for him, then drew back. But when she realized it was Luc, she went to him.

  “Love...” His mouth formed the word “you,” but no sound emerged from his lips as the life drifted from his eyes.

  Natalie screamed, her hands fluttering. No, no, no! The sound reverberated in her mind.

  “No, Luc, please,” she cried. She took a deep breath, calming herself. No. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t happen. Not to Luc. “You can’t die,” she murmured, patting his cheek. “You’re a vampire. Vampires don’t die.” She slapped his cheek harder, but his eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling of the cave. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening.” She patted him on the chest. “Come on, wake up. Wake up.” She rocked on her knees, panic coursing through her.

  “What do you need? What do you need?” She glanced wildly around the cave. The bottle she’d used to hold the Lupinus tea was empty—fat lot of good it did. “What do vampires need?” Blood. Blood. Blood bag. She rose on her knees then slumped down when she saw the flat, emptied sack on the floor. No. This can’t be happening. She shook her head as hysteria began to build in side her. No, not Luc.

  She reached for him again, her pale skin such a contrast to his marbled complexion. Because she had blood pumping through her veins. She glanced at her wrist for a brief moment, and all the possibilities sprang into a logical chain of events in her mind, all within the blink of eye. She didn’t hesitate. She placed her wrist against Lucien’s lips and pressed against his incisors, hissing at the pain as she slowly punctured her skin against his teeth.

  Blood seeped into his mouth and she squeezed her arm, as though trying to squirt blood from veins and into his throat. When the red fluid coated his lips and tongue, she drew back, holding her breath. Waiting.

  Waiting.

  It took several long, apprehensive moments before realization dawned on her. It wasn’t working.

  Lucien was dead.

  Tears tracked down her face and she lay next to his body, her head on his chest as she cried.

  Chapter 18

  Her muscles were stiff and sore. She blinked slowly, her eyes itchy and irritated as she gazed blankly at the wall opposite, watching the colors change, the shadows lengthen. How long had she’d lain there? Hours.

  She didn’t care. Wasn’t interested in going an
ywhere. Where could she go? She sure as hell couldn’t go back home. Where did she want to go? Anywhere without Luc just didn’t hold any appeal. Her eyes watered again. No. She didn’t want to leave Luc. She was warm and cozy right—

  She blinked. Warm? Warm! Luc’s chest was warm! She jerked upright, her jaw dropping. His skin was pinking. She placed her hand on his chest, leaning over to peer down into his blank eyes.

  “Luc?” She leaned closer. “Luc?”

  Lucien gasped, eyes widening as he sucked in a breath, and she felt the small boom in his chest as his heart started again.

  She gaped and stared as Lucien blinked, awareness slowly creeping into his eyes as he sucked in another breath, and another. He sat upright, effortlessly, his startled gaze meeting hers before flicking away to survey the cave, before finally coming back to rest on her. She stared at him, stunned.

  He grabbed her, pulling her to him and enveloping her in a bear hug.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped in disbelief. “What?” Words failed her, but his warmth, the beat of his heart...

  “I love you,” he whispered, pulling back to kiss her in quick, hard kisses. His hand delved in her hair, “I love you,” he kept saying as he kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek, along her jaw. “I love you, I love you.”

  “I love—” Her words were cut off as he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her thoroughly. She kissed him right back.

  He trailed his lips along her jawline to that sensitive spot below her ear. Heat flooded her, but she was too confused as emotions ripped through her. “Wait, wait,” she said breathlessly. “Let me look at you.”

  She drew back and with one swift yank tore the remnants of his shirt over his broad shoulders and down his muscled arms. His smooth shoulders and unscarred arms. He chuckled as she pushed and poked at him, inspecting him.