Love Me to Death (Underveil)

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Love Me to Death (Underveil) Page 2

by Marissa Clarke


  Detective Gonzalez patted her hand. “We’re investigators. We’re trying to figure out what happened to you in the store.”

  She found herself unable to draw her eyes away from the dark stranger who had backed up and was now leaning against the wall. Why couldn’t they see him? He had a smirk on his face, which made her heart hammer. “I want to go home,” she whispered.

  “After we watch the disc from the surveillance camera in the store, we’ll leave you alone. We’re hoping you’ll be able to clarify what’s happening as we watch it,” Detective Knowles said.

  The man with the sword moved to the end of the bed. He appeared to be looking at her eyes. Not into them, like someone would if they were trying to communicate. No. He was looking at her eyes, as if he were studying a pinned bug specimen. Elena squirmed like that bug as she managed to pull her eyes away from the death angel.

  Detective Knowles punched some keys on the laptop, and the disc began to play. There was no audio. On the screen, she watched herself enter the store. The camera had filmed from the corner where the mirror was mounted. She watched as she walked straight to the candy aisle. Detective Knowles paused the disc.

  “It looks like you are familiar with the store. Why were you there?” Knowles asked.

  “I was getting a Milky Way bar.”

  Gonzalez smiled. “Do you do this often?”

  It was obvious he thought she was lying. “Yes. I have hypoglycemia—low blood sugar—I need candy when it gets bad.”

  It was Knowles’s turn to lob the ball across the court. “So, you’ve been to this store before?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many times?” Gonzalez seemed to enjoy the game more than Knowles. Grinning, he leaned against the bedrail, close enough for her to smell cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes.

  “Um. Pretty much every day for the last three weeks.”

  Knowles’s turn again. “Why for three weeks?”

  She groaned. If only she knew. “My blood sugar has been out of whack since I started working at the hospital,” she explained, smoothing the top of the sheet into a neat, straight fold. “The store is the first place to buy chocolate on my way home.”

  Gonzalez asked, “What do you do at the hospital?”

  “I’m a research biologist in the hematology lab.”

  Gonzalez must have forgotten it wasn’t his turn in the keep away game, because he continued the questioning. “What is your job in the lab?”

  “I have a Ph.D. in Biology. I’m working as a research scientist on a cancer drug protocol. I study blood anomalies.”

  Deep laughter filled the room. Elena had been so distracted by the detectives she’d forgotten the death angel, who had moved to the glass wall when the questioning began. “That’s perfect,” he said in his deep voice. “Absolutely perfect. The fox in the henhouse.”

  What was that accent, she wondered. German? No, Russian, maybe. Whatever it was, the effect of his voice on her body was as profound as his smile. Her insides clenched.

  Knowles spoke next. “So you’ve been going to this convenience store every day to get a candy bar after work.”

  She nodded but continued to watch the death angel, who chuckled as he stared out the window into the ER hallway. Like something out of a really great dream, here stood a huge guy with sexy markings, deep voice, and a sword—and for some reason, she was the only one who could see him. Physically, he was too good to be real. Maybe he was a dream. Don’t wake up, Elena, she urged, trying to memorize every detail of his magnificent body. But she knew it wasn’t a dream. She had died and was stuck in some kind of freaky purgatory.

  “Miss Arcos, are you okay?” Detective Knowles waved his hand in front of her face.

  “Uh, sorry, yeah,” she mumbled, reluctantly drawing her eyes back to the computer as Knowles restarted the surveillance disc. On the screen, she watched herself pick up a Milky Way bar. The robber walked into the store and spread his hands out on the counter. The clerk behind the cash register dropped the tabloid he was reading and stood up. She watched the small laptop screen as the robber pulled a gun out of the front waist of his pants under the flannel shirt and shot the clerk, who collapsed behind the counter. Everything was exactly as she remembered it. The guy cleared out the cash register and then walked down the aisle beyond her to the back of the store. He turned on her aisle, and she bolted. He leveled the handgun and shot her in the back on the right shoulder. She hit the floor. The guy shoved her with his foot and then kicked her. Calmly, he aimed the gun at the middle of her back and fired. Blood spread out between her shoulder blades. As if he had not just shot two people, the guy strode nonchalantly out of the store.

  Detective Gonzalez stopped the disc. “So, Miss Arcos, what happened next?”

  Elena held her breath in an attempt to control her panic. No way was she going to talk about her imaginary death angel, who had disappeared from the exam room sometime during the review of the surveillance recording. More unnerving than his presence was his absence. “I don’t remember.”

  Detective Gonzalez started the disc again. Neither he nor detective Knowles watched the computer; they watched Elena, who could feel their gazes as she concentrated on the black and white images on the screen. After the robber left the store, the death angel appeared out of thin air. She gasped, and then looked at the detectives, who were oblivious.

  In the recording, the death angel spoke and then shoved her over onto her back effortlessly, as if she were a rag doll. He stood over her and withdrew his sword. Grabbing her chin, he forced her head to the side. She remembered he had told her to spit the blood out of her mouth so that he could understand her. Elena in the recording went limp.

  She watched the laptop screen, mesmerized, as he lifted the sword to plunge it into her chest, but stopped short. He resheathed the sword and squatted down over her, opening her eyelid with his thumb and finger. Then he parted her lips and examined her teeth. He turned her head to one side and then the other, as if he were checking out her neck.

  He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. When he withdrew his hand, he balled it into a fist and punched the metal shelf next to her, causing an avalanche of candy to cascade to the floor. He appeared to shout as he stood up. Pausing a few times to look at her, he paced like a fierce, caged animal. Elena was glad there was no sound to the recording, because from the look on his face, she was sure his words were as aggressive and dangerous as his movements.

  He stopped pacing and returned to her unconscious body. He pulled out a cell phone, punched some numbers, and put it to his ear. After speaking only a few words, he shoved it into his back pants pocket. As if he were afraid to touch her, he rolled her onto her stomach. He placed his palm over her shoulder blade and slowly pulled his hand away. When he turned his palm over, it looked like something was in his hand, as if he were a magnet that had attracted something. The bullet? No way.

  Not breathing, she watched the computer screen, as he repeated the process over the middle of her back. Again, something stuck to his palm. Damn. It had to be the bullet. He put whatever it was in his front pocket and stood up. After staring at her for a moment, he shook his head and disappeared.

  A woman entered the store and covered her mouth. It was clear she was screaming. After some time, men came and put Elena on a gurney. Obviously paramedics. The next stop would be the hospital. End of story. She wasn’t dead. Death had saved her instead.

  Detective Knowles stopped the recording and closed the laptop. “So, um, explain that please, Miss Arcos.”

  “Explain what?” she mumbled, half buying time, half testing to see if they had seen the death angel.

  Knowles put his hand on her shoulder. “Miss Arcos. It looks like you were shot, but there are no bullet wounds. We expected it to be fake blood, but you heard the nurse; it appears to be your blood. How is that possible?”

  A sexy death angel pulled the bullets out? “I can’t explain it.”

  Gonzalez spoke while Know
les packed the computer up. “Miss Arcos. We need you to cooperate here. Something about this isn’t right.”

  No shit.

  Gonzalez sighed as if his patience grew thin. “Do you know the man who shot you?”

  “No.”

  “Can you describe him for us?”

  The death angel reappeared at the foot of her bed before she could answer. He put his finger to his lip indicating she should be silent. His nearness caused her heart to fire into hyperdrive again. She swallowed and took a deep breath, hoping her voice wouldn’t tremble like her body. “Um, well, I didn’t really get a good look at him. I was pretty freaked out. I don’t remember anything, actually.”

  Gonzalez leaned close. “Miss Arcos, the cashier died. If it turns out that you are somehow involved in this crime, you will be an accessory to murder. You need to tell us the truth.”

  Why wasn’t she telling them the truth, she wondered. Crazy was better than guilty of murder. She stared at the man with the sword who had lost his air of ease. He seemed to sense she was considering coming clean about what had really happened. He took a step toward her. The sword made a metallic shing sound as he pulled it out of its sheath.

  “If you remove the Veil, I will have to kill them. Your fate is already sealed. Reveal nothing, or they are dead as well.” His unusual accent punctuated the danger in his words.

  As well…

  “Miss Arcos, you won’t like it in jail,” Gonzales said.

  At that moment, a tall brunette woman wearing a lab coat strode into the room. She looked from Gonzalez to Knowles to Elena. “I beg your pardon. I’m Dr. Williams. This is my patient. Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

  Elena was shocked when the drop-dead gorgeous woman that looked like a supermodel said she was a doctor. She was charged to know that this woman would choose a profession that used her brain when she could have struck gold with a career using her perfect body and face. Her long white coat gapped open at the front, revealing a tailored navy blue business suit with a red silk shirt underneath. Both of the detectives seemed completely stunned by her. Their professional airs dissolved into the countenances of nervous high school freshmen.

  Knowles awkwardly zipped up the computer bag. “No, doctor. There’s no problem. We were just showing your patient a video of the robbery.”

  The doctor nodded. Gonzalez stuffed his notebook back into the pocket of this shirt. “Dr. Williams, the nurse said that the blood was a match for Miss Arcos. With no wounds, how do you explain that?”

  The doctor shrugged and gifted them with a perfect, full-lipped smile. “It was a hell of a nose-bleed, I guess. Right now, I need to examine the patient. I will be happy to talk to you in the hallway. There are chairs in the waiting area just past the nurses’ station.” She gestured to the door.

  The detectives took the cue and left the exam room, looking over their shoulders as they shuffled out.

  The doctor closed the door and drew the curtain across the wall of glass. Her demeanor changed completely when she turned around. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Nikolai? Have you lost your mind?”

  The death angel, sword still in hand, crossed to where she stood near the door. Even though the woman was tall, he towered over her, and with the sword, he looked deadly. “No, Aleksandra. I have not lost my mind. There has been a mistake.”

  The woman didn’t appear intimidated by the death angel at all. She had the same accent and was matching his aggressive body language exactly. “You bet there’s been a mistake. Otherwise, you would never have called me. Why does she still live?”

  “She’s human.”

  The woman gave his shoulder a shove. “Like hell she is.” To Elena’s horror, the woman strode to her bed and grabbed her by the hair. “Can you hear me? See me?” She gave Elena’s hair a painful jerk. “Can you feel me, creature?”

  Elena cried out, terrified.

  Aleksandra released her hair and gave a disgusted snort. “You’re an idiot, Nikolai. She can see me. I lifted the Veil for the idiot cops, but I replaced it when they left. If she’s human, explain that.”

  “I can’t,” he conceded.

  Elena’s heart thumped so hard she could hear it in her head.

  “She sees us, Nikolai. She is not human. She must die. Now.”

  Desperation tinged his voice. “No. She isn’t one of them. Look at her. Look at her eyes, Aleksi. She hasn’t embraced the Underveil yet. I’m not permitted to take a human soul.”

  Aleksandra pulled a dagger out from under her lab coat. “Not all of us are as pure of purpose as you, Niki. Allow me to help you out here.” She stalked toward the bed where Elena huddled. For some reason, Nikolai with a sword turned Elena on, but this woman with a dagger was terrifying.

  Before Aleksandra reached the bed, Nikolai grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her to face him. “No! Her soul calls me. There has been a mistake. She’s…she’s…” The huge man appeared defeated by his own words. “This is a mistake.”

  Elena was amazed by Aleksandra’s reaction—she laughed. She threw her head back and laughed. “Aw shit, Niki. That’s impossible. You’re just thinking with your dick. You’ve been too long without, that’s all. One good night in bed with a strong, hungry woman, and this creature’s pitiful call will be as inconsequential as her species…and just as easy to conquer.”

  Nikolai shifted his gaze and the tip of the sword to the floor. Aleksandra ran her fingers across his cheek. She pointed at the sword. “Are you going to use that, or are you just showing off?”

  He glared at her with his gold eyes. “Fuck you, Aleksandra.”

  She laughed again. “You’d like that, but nope, little Niki, it’s not permitted.”

  “You’re sick, you know,” he said as he slid the sword into the sheath behind his back.

  She stowed the dagger back under the lab coat. “That’s why you love me so much.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “Niki baby. You had a direct order. The minute she embraces the Underveil, kill her. If you don’t, you know the punishment for disobedience. You have to do this.” She brushed her fingers across his lips. “I couldn’t bear losing you. Don’t fail. Fydor wants you to screw up.”

  Elena found herself almost growling at their intimacy. She was…jealous? Aw, for God’s sake. She couldn’t possibly be jealous of some blood-hungry woman who was stroking the face of the man who was going to kill her. Kill her with a sword, no less. What was wrong with her? She’d gone crazy. Yep. Certifiable.

  “I won’t fail. I never have,” he said. “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

  The woman kissed his cheek. “I love you, you know. I’ll go deal with the detectives. Since the Underveil wasn’t exposed, I don’t have to kill them. I’ll just take their notepads and computers and screw with their memories.” She laughed. “Yeah, I think maybe I’ll make them remember going to a topless bar instead of the hospital. That should give them something to think about when they go home to their wives.” She winked at Nikolai. “I’ll tell the techies at headquarters to hack into the hospital system and erase her medical records.” She grabbed the patient chart from off the counter where she had laid it. “I’ve got this.” She gave Elena a pointed glare. “Poof! Like magic, little girl, you’re gone. You never even existed. None of your kind will exist when we’re through.” She trembled as Aleksandra chanted some strange words and disappeared into thin air with the chart.

  She pulled her knees to her chest and bit her lip, fighting the urge to cry. Unable to bring herself to look at Nikolai, she closed her eyes and laid her chin on her knees, waiting for him to carry out Aleksandra’s orders.

  Nikolai stared at the diminutive, blonde woman with blood-soaked hair, curled up in a ball on the hospital bed. So fragile—not at all what he had expected. Vampires were fierce, calculating warriors, and this one was the daughter of Gregor Arcos, one of the most notorious vampires of modern time.

  Gregor had killed Nikolai’s father two decades ago, instigat
ing the bloodiest war in the history of the Underveil.

  Fydor, Nikolai’s uncle, had sent him on this mission so that he could personally avenge his father’s murder. Eager for closure, he’d accepted the assignment readily, anticipating a worthy opponent.

  A pitiful human was not at all what he had expected.

  He had spent the last two decades preparing for this moment by killing every rogue vampire he could find in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain, but the void in his heart was just as empty. Even Aleksandra couldn’t fill it.

  Certainly no gratification would be derived from reaping the soul of this tiny creature. Tiny, but not inconsequential. When he had stood over her in the convenience store, ready to end her life, something had happened—something more frightening than death itself: He had felt the pull of her soul. A distinct tugging at his own, calling him to join with her.

  No. Impossible. Aleksandra was right. He was nuts. Maybe he had been too long without a woman. He shook his head and sighed. The girl in the bed shuddered, her head still on her knees and her eyes closed.

  Something foreign in him wanted to calm her but knew it was the wrong thing to do. He was a Slayer—a terrifying being created to patrol the Underveil and execute immortals who broke the laws. He wasn’t a wimp who consoled unconverted vampires before he killed them. Grow a pair.

  But what if Fydor was wrong? His messages had been odd recently, consumed with finding Arcos’s offspring and executing her as soon as possible, insisting she was planning an attack on the royal family to avenge her father. He’d devoted a huge amount of resources to the task and insisted Nikolai be the only one to carry out the mission, which had suited him fine. Killing anyone related to his father’s murderer seemed apropos. But now that he’d met her, something seemed way off. What if she wasn’t a menace to the Underveil? He couldn’t execute her until he knew for sure. He had to take her somewhere they could have privacy for a while. Some place Fydor and his soldiers had not been so that they couldn’t teleport in unannounced. Someplace even he had never been that was close enough to not use a ton of energy in transit. He intentionally infused his voice with hatred, more to motivate himself than to frighten her. “Get up, parasite. We need to get out of here.”

 

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