“I recommend you allow me to dispose of it. I have several prepaid cell phones I use as what my assistant, Bridgette, likes to call burner phones when I don’t want to be tapped, recognized, or tracked.”
What on earth would he do that would be so underground as to need a phone like that? Elena resisted scratching, but pressed her palm to her chest to quell the burning.
Nikolai grabbed her wrist. Then, he reached up with his other hand and pulled the neckline of the shirt down several inches before she could react or knock his hands away. His eyes widened. “Holy shit.”
She almost screamed when she followed his gaze. Inky markings similar in style to his stretched across her chest. Tingles of dread tickled her spine, and she was slammed by an overwhelming urge to vomit. “You did this,” she said, jerking away from his grip.
“I had nothing to do with it.” Nikolai held his hands up in surrender.
“May I see?” Stefan’s touch was gentle and tentative, as opposed to Nikolai’s grab-and-yank style. She couldn’t help but glare at Nikolai while Stefan examined the skin just below her collarbone. Her captor was behind this somehow—he and his wacked-out Slayer blood. Maybe it would go away like the red in her eyes did… If only he would.
“It’s in the ancient language, just like your markings, Itzov,” Stefan said. “I’ve only ever seen them on you. Other Slayer markings are in Elven.”
Nikolai said nothing.
“Who marked you?” Stefan asked. “Very few speak or read the old tongue anymore. How came you to know the language of the elders?”
“I don’t. I don’t even know what my markings say exactly, but I’ve been told it’s the Prophecy of the Uniter.”
Stefan smiled. “So it seems.”
Nikolai crossed his arms over his wide chest. The T-shirt the tailor had modified hugged his muscles and made him look practically edible. Crap! Elena shook her head to clear out the hornies and replace them with common sense.
“Oh, and I suppose you’re fluent in the ancient language, Darvaak,” Nikolai said.
“I am. That and several hundred others, both human and otherworldly.” When there was no response from Nikolai, Stefan continued. “I’ve been reading your way-too-naked skin since you popped in here unannounced. You’re like a billboard; you can’t blame me. Although I’d never heard of this prophecy before, it’s proclaimed all over your body.”
Nikolai said nothing; he simply stared at Stefan.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what your markings mean exactly?” Stefan asked.
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
No? Elena couldn’t believe it. No way was she was going to be kept in the dark because of some one-upsmanship pissing match between these guys. “I want to know what mine mean.”
Nikolai’s gold eyes narrowed. “We must go now. It’s critical.”
“So is this,” she said. “It’s critical to me, anyway.”
Stefan turned her to face the mirror and pulled the right side of the collar of her blouse down far enough to expose part of the markings. “The ancient language is written similarly to Egyptian hieroglyphics, with images representing items or concepts rather than letters of an alphabet. This”—he trailed his fingers over a shape that looked like a curved talon or blade—“is a symbol for the beings of earth. Humans, if you will.”
In the mirror, she watched Nikolai’s fists ball up.
Stefan then reached across and exposed the marking on the left side. “This is indicative of the creatures not of the earth. Those under the Veil.”
Elena stared at a curved marking similar to the one representing humans. It looked almost the same, except that where the human symbol had serrations on the inside of the curved shape. This one had jagged edges on the outside.
Nikolai shifted foot-to-foot, and for a moment, Elena thought he was going to make Stefan stop. Instead, he took a deep breath and lowered his eyes, “Please hurry.”
“And this last shape in the middle where the two symbols intersect is the glyph for light.” His eyes met Elena’s. “It sounds similar to your name. It’s pronounced E-lee-nee.”
Her father had always called her his little light. Her name even meant light in Romanian, her father’s native tongue.
“So, you see, the light joins the two together.” His eyes met Nikolai’s. “The light unites them, yes?”
“We’re leaving. Now.” Nikolai grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her into the living room. “Grab your suitcase,” he ordered, pointing to where it sat next to the sofa.
Screw him. She’d had enough of his ordering her around. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” She thought for a moment he was going to lose it, but the look in his eyes was fear, not anger. He wasn’t just afraid, he was terrified. He backed away a few steps, studying her, trembling. Oh crap. He was afraid of her.
Nikolai shook his head to clear it. This wasn’t possible. It had to just be another pointer or manifestation of the prophecy. She could not possibly be…
No.
The Uniter would be a man, a strong one, capable of great deeds. According to the prophecy, the Uniter would dethrone tyrants and anoint kings. This woman couldn’t even sufficiently feed herself, much less defeat a tyrant.
“There’s more,” Darvaak said.
“There’s not.” Nikolai needed to gain control of the situation. He had to get away from here and find Aleksandra.
“What?” Elena said. “What more?”
Fuck. He needed to make sure of things, lots of things before she heard any more of this craziness. First, though, he needed to talk to Aleksandra. “Nothing more. I have something urgent to do right now.”
She ripped her hand from his and pulled as far away as the cord would allow. “So do I.”
She defied him? No one defied a Slayer. Reflexively, he placed his hand on the handle the sword.
Her eyes didn’t even widen. No flinch. No fear. “Do it. Go ahead. I’ve got a death wish and a damned good reason to have one. Do you?”
After at least ten solid, lung-filling breaths, he relaxed. Reaching for his sword had only been instinct resulting from centuries of training. He couldn’t kill her. Not a chance. Not even if he were free of the cord.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought not.”
He didn’t dare look at the Time Folder. If he had a smug smirk on his face, Nikolai would be obliged to pound it off him, and then it would take even longer to get to Aleksi. “Tell her whatever you know so we can go.” He turned his gaze out the window. If Darvaak touched her again, he might lose control.
“There are symbols underneath the larger glyphs. They, like the ones I described, are similar to those on the Slayer. Not identical, though.”
Nikolai ground his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. So, she had the symbol for the Uniter on her. So what? She probably had part of the prophecy as well, just like he did. Most likely cast by the same conjurer to proclaim the coming of the man who would save both worlds and build a bridge between them. It meant nothing other than she truly wasn’t of the human world and he had been sorely remiss in thinking she was. Aleksi might die because he had not carried out the orders.
“The writing says, ‘From a warrior’s blood, I rise.’”
That’s not what his markings said. Not at all. His said that from a warrior’s blood, the Uniter shall rise. Not “I.” Nikolai met Darvaak’s eyes.
The Time Folder lifted an eyebrow. “I believe that answers why your uncle has such extreme interest in her, does it not?”
“No. It does not.” He reached out and pulled Elena to him. So close her body touched all the way down. “I appreciate your help, Darvaak. I will compensate you, of course.”
“Of course you will.” The Time Folder walked behind the sofa and around to the suitcase. “Are you going to your home?”
“Yes.”
He popped open the case and pulled out Elena’s parka. He slid the sleeve over her free arm
, then ripped open the Velcro that would allow it to be secured over her other arm. “You are accustomed to fending only for yourself, Slayer. You must change your mindset. Anticipate her needs—like food for example.” He opened the small case wider to show Nikolai a stash of protein bars. “She will be of no use to you or any of us dead.”
And suddenly, Nikolai felt like a total prick. The Time Folder was right. He hadn’t taken her needs into account at all. It would be cold in his homeland. She was still weak and would need nourishment. It was time for him to pull his head out of his ass and start thinking clearly. Even if the markings meant nothing, this woman was in his care—at least for the time being.
Darvaak closed the suitcase and wrapped Elena’s fingers around the handle. “Despite misgivings on both of your parts, Itzov, you should consider turning her completely. Her odds of survival would increase dramatically.” He slapped Nikolai hard on the shoulder. “So would yours.” After moving several steps back, he bowed to Elena. “I’ve no doubt we will meet again. You are welcome in my home anytime. I wish you luck and wise choices, Elena Arcos.”
Enough of the sappy farewells. They were running low on time if he was going to make it before the sun rose over the Carpathian Mountains. Nikolai placed his hands on either side of Elena’s neck and began the chant that would invoke the transporting spell.
Chapter Ten
When the pressure of teleporting faded and the ground finally solidified under her feet, Elena opened her eyes…and screamed.
Nikolai clamped a hand over her mouth. “Silence or we’re dead.”
Crap. They were dead anyway. The stone wall they stood on was no more than two feet across, which would seem plenty wide except for the fact they balanced at least five stories up and it was snowing like crazy.
Her eyes locked on what appeared to be a frozen moat below with miles of forest stretching out beyond. Holy crap. They’d landed in a scene from Lord of the Rings or something.
“Don’t look down.”
Right. Too late.
He reached down and took the suitcase from her hand.
Damn, she was sick of this—sick of being terrified, sick of being ignorant and helpless, sick of depending on him for everything. But right now, she had no choice because he’d landed them like a couple of birds perched on the freaking wall of a castle or something a billion feet above the ground in the middle of a snowstorm.
Then it occurred to her that he could only teleport to places he’d been before. Why had he ever been here?
“Hold on to me,” he whispered.
She grabbed his belt loops on the back of his jeans. He had no coat on over his T-shirt. He had to be freezing, since her teeth were chattering and she wore a parka. Served him right.
She shuffled along behind him, keeping the same foot forward until they reached a huge window in the building at the end of the wall. He pulled his dagger out of his boot and jimmied the lock until the window swung open inward. He paused, holding his breath as if listening, then stepped over the sill and into the room, turning to help Elena. Once inside, he silently closed the window behind them.
A blow came from behind Elena’s knees, sending her to the floor right before a heavy crack filled the blackness.
“Aleksi,” Nikolai whispered.
“Niki?”
Then the sound of a match striking. The tiny orange flame grew as it took hold on a candlewick. The unmistakably perfect form of Aleksandra, dressed in something so sheer she might as well have worn nothing at all, waivered in the flickering light. “Why are you here?”
Nikolai rubbed the back of his head. “To have my skull cracked, obviously.”
She ran to a basin on a small table and retrieved a wet a towel before returning to him. “Here, let me clean it off.”
Elena remained on her knees but covered her nose and mouth. The smell of his blood was unlike anything else. It was a magnet pulling every molecule in her toward him. She rolled in a ball on her side to prevent her body from crawling to him on its own. She gulped a breath of air through her mouth to keep from smelling it, but she could taste it.
“You hurt her,” Nikolai said as Aleksandra wiped the blood from the back of his head.
“No.” She rinsed the rag in the basin and put it back on his head. “She can’t possibly be that fragile. If she is, we’re all dead.”
Nikolai grabbed her wrist. “Meaning what?”
“We can’t talk here. Go to the forest—to the big tree where we played as children.” She grabbed a huge brown fur from her bed and placed it in his arms. “Go now, Niki, before they come.” She pulled Elena to her feet and shoved the suitcase at her. “I’ll follow soon.”
He pulled her back out through the window and leaned against the building. She kept her eyes on his face, rather than look down this time. The sun was rising, softening the harsh lines of his face. He drew her near, hands on neck. “We can’t teleport in or out of the fortress. It’s magically protected to prevent it.”
So close she could taste him, Elena weaved on her feet as Nikolai chanted. Then, with a slam, she knew she had been teleported again. Eyes closed, she breathed deep through her nose, taking in the rich, coppery perfume of Nikolai’s blood, no concern as to where they were. Hell, they could be up on another wall for all she cared. It was as if his blood had rendered nothing else relevant. Her whole body hummed with the scent of him as she dropped the suitcase and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him as close as possible.
A deep, masculine rumbling sound rolled through his chest, reverberating through her body as he reciprocated and ran his hands up her back, entwining his fingers in her hair. “Elena,” he whispered.
Yes. This was what she wanted. She lowered her hands and rubbed over the hard ridge in the front of his jeans, and he groaned again. She needed him with her, against her, in her. She needed to…bite him?
No!
She shoved as hard as she could against his chest, sending him sprawling in the snow.
No.
“What game is this?” he asked, rising to his feet.
Still shaking off the blood-induced trance, she took a step back. There was only an eerie hint of light slanting low through the trees, accenting the angular planes of his face. He’d never looked more beautiful to her—wild and angry, surrounded by the surreal beauty of the untouched forest.
What was happening to her? This was all wrong. She took several more steps back. This wasn’t like her at all. She was attracted to order and convenience. Security and predictability. Not some wild, primitive immortal death angel in the middle of a forest who knows where. A death angel who hated her.
It had to be his blood making her crazy. And every minute she was with him, she found herself more vulnerable. It’s only his blood, she assured herself. She could beat this.
Nikolai stood and brushed the snow off, then grabbed the bearskin and shook it. It was only his blood she craved, and for some reason that bugged the shit out of him. Why should he care at all? She was a vampire, and even though their souls met on the cord, he knew it would never work. Perhaps it was simply the rejection that burned. He’d never been denied by a female before, and it stung. Yes, that was it. It was only his pride. She meant nothing.
“We need to get moving,” he said, wrapping the bearskin over his shoulders, then grabbing the suitcase and tucking it under his arm. Fortunately, they were very close to the meeting place. “Come.”
He struck out for the destination but the cord jerked him to a stop.
“Come!” he repeated.
“I’m not a dog you can command.”
He could see the defiance in her eyes, and it aroused him. So strong. But as much as he admired her will, they didn’t have time for this right now. They could play who’s on top later.
“Elena. We must—”
The sound of motors cut him short. Shit. They’d been discovered, and teleporting again this soon was iffy, especially since there were two of them. Besides, he needed to t
ake care of this because he couldn’t just let Aleksi teleport right into a trap or ambush. Best to face whatever was bearing down on them and hope it wasn’t Slayer Elite Forces.
“Listen to me well. You must not move no matter what you hear, do you understand?” She was mortal and could get hurt so easily.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.
“If they see you, they’ll kill you. Get on your belly in the snow, now. Lay perfectly still no matter what.”
She nodded and dropped to her hands and knees. At least she was compliant when it was essential. Once she was flat, he spread the skin over her. He would need to stay in one place to be effective. If he were within their striking range, they’d be within his as well. He pulled the cord to give himself the most length possible. At least it wasn’t on his sword arm. He positioned himself over the skin, one foot on either side of her. No blade would find her. Not while he was alive.
The first of the snowmobiles crested the berm, and he almost shouted out with relief. The next two were no different. They were manned by wood elves, the easiest of the Underveil creatures to defeat. Why would they be defending the Slayer fortress?
Though equipped with rifles—probably to kill or injure Elena—the elves were also armed with swords. Bullets would do nothing to him, but a good slice with a blade would slow him down, though not kill him, even if forged by the light elves. He would have to be burned to ash or decapitated by a Slayer sword to be defeated, and the chance of a wood elf doing that was zilch. Still, they could kill Elena easily, which was his primary concern as the first snowmobile rocketed toward him.
Sword in front, ready, he waited…and smiled. This is what he was best at—what he was made for: combat.
Before the elf could even get his sword around in a full swing, his head hit the snow in a black, sticky mess. The snowmobile continued down the hill to a ravine, headless body dumped before it rolled.
“Next?” Nikolai shouted.
Ah, two at once. Bring it. Feet still on either side of Elena’s body, he brought the sword over his head and swung in a full arc, slicing the torso of one, and causing the other to swerve wildly, losing control of his vehicle, which rolled several times before smashing into a tree.
Love Me to Death (Underveil) Page 9