by Lisa Marie
“How do you know which way to go?” Brie asked him after a few minutes. He was walking through the woods like he’d been born in them, his stride purposeful and sure.
“The woods change, but if you pay attention, you can pick out how.”
She noticed the way he stressed the words pay attention.
“Nothing is ever really far away from where it originated. You just have to stay on the right path. Like when we drove in here.”
“Oh,” was all she said in response, and they fell back into silence.
Her eyes widened in surprise when she suddenly caught a glimpse of the house through the trees. She had been wandering around for hours lost, and it only took him a few minutes to get them back to the house. “How…”
“If you walk in a straight line, you will eventually reach the house. From what I can tell, you’ve been wandering in circles for hours. I tried to follow, but figured it would probably be easier to sit and wait for you to circle back. I heard you scream.”
The last part sounded a bit reproachful and she felt a stab of remorse. She quickly pushed it away by reminding herself that if he hadn’t been such an ass the night before, she wouldn’t have run. By the time they reached the edge of the clearing, the sun had fully set, and the light of the full moon washed the yard in an eerie glow. Silence had descended on them again, but it was tense and brittle. Brie was so engrossed in it and wallowing in her slowly reawakening anger that she didn’t realize he had stopped until she ran into him.
“Sorry,” fell from her lips before she could stop it and she scowled that she felt the need to apologize to him.
A hand shot up to his lips to indicate that she should keep quiet. He seemed to be listening intently for something.
Brie’s heart jumped in her throat as she remembered the danger the dark offered here. The air around them was devoid of sound and she started to think that maybe Mark was hearing things. She opened her mouth to tell him so, when he let go of her hand and gave her a shove toward the clearing. Her heart stuttered when she looked back at him and saw his face was set in a grim determination and the dart gun up and ready to fire before she could even blink. But it was what he said that had her blood freezing in her veins.
“Seth. Run.”
Chapter Fourteen
By the time they walked into the back door of the building that housed Ash’s apartment and Flora’s shop, Eve had seen more than she’d ever wanted to of North Port’s sewer system. Her poor, bare feet were tired, abused and caked with dirt and who knew what else. They circled for hours in the woods to try to shake the werewolf tagging them. The only reason she knew what it was, was because Ash occasionally raised his head and sniffed the air. He growled viciously, then shifted direction. Every once in awhile, she heard him hiss the word “werewolf”.
Ash was in vamp form the entire time, using his enhanced abilities to get them out of the woods and safely to the edge of the city. He didn’t rush her, often sliding an arm around her waist to help take some weight off her feet. But there was this sense of urgency surrounding him that spurred her to move, even when she thought that they should have been safe.
The only time she hesitated was when he opened the sewer hatch and dropped down, quickly calling to her to follow. Visions of rats, disease and a multitude of other nasty things had her seriously considering sitting down and waiting for Edward to find her. But then Ash’s insistent voice called to her again, and the sun creeping closer to the sewer entrance had her quickly dropping into the black stench. As soon as she was through, he started to move, one hand linked with hers, the other holding the lighter out in front of them. She was pretty sure the light was purely for her benefit.
Eve had nearly gagged from how horrible it smelled and she had to breathe shallowly through her mouth to keep her rolling stomach from rebelling. She thanked God for Ash’s ease in moving through the darkness, even as she cursed his lack of needing to breathe. She tried desperately to ignore whatever her feet were treading on and focused on the outline of his back instead. He kept his pace slow, but she could almost feel his need to run.
She tried making conversation a few times, mainly to keep her imagination from getting the better of her. She came to find out that the lighter wasn’t the one he had at the club. He’d managed to lift it off one of the cattle prod carrying vampires when Ash had “accidentally” tripped into him. He’d suffered a rather painful shot of electricity for that, but he’d managed to pocket the lighter before it was noticed.
When she vaguely mentioned Edward and his super sense of smell, Ash had snorted in disgust. He then proceeded to tell her that werewolves—while their sense of smell was more acute than a vampire’s—weren’t as good at picking through different smells to find their prey. Plus, the stench of the sewers and the abundance of things living in them would confuse them. And finally, since it was daytime, Edward wouldn’t be able to hold his wolf shape anyway, which lessened his chances of keeping up with them. He would probably leave off the chase and head to her apartment to keep watch for them. As such, they were heading for Ash’s house.
They lapsed back into silence then, and Eve spent the remainder of the time thinking about this new info. The difference between vampires and werewolves ran much deeper than one turned into a dog during the full moon and the other one … didn’t. Ash always had to deal with what he was, while a werewolf could all but forget about it most of the month. It kind of reminded her of her period and she had to giggle. While it was horribly funny to equate turning into a werewolf as an extreme case of PMS, it would explain a lot.
Eve was still amusing herself with that analogy when Ash suddenly stopped.
“Stay here,” he growled as he let go of her hand, snapping the lighter closed and plunging them into darkness. The second he let go, panic swept over her. She heard a sound like metal sliding against metal and her heart did a flip in her chest. How vulnerable they really were struck her. Ash was weak from torture and blood loss, and she was a small human woman who was exhausted and barefoot. She really didn’t like their chances if they met anything pissed off.
Her fears were put to rest when a sudden patch of light brightened up the gloom of the sewers. She looked up as Ash jumped down from the ladder he had climbed and nimbly stepped out of the early morning sunlight. Eve looked at him and blinked, thinking that he should be smoking or something.
“Thought sunlight killed you guys,” she said, realizing as soon as it was out of her mouth what a silly thing it was to say. Obviously, since he didn’t even look singed, it didn’t.
“Not right away. Usually have a few minutes before we go poof.” He pointed up to the open manhole. “Climb up, you’ll be in an alley. There’s a door on the building to your left. It shouldn’t be locked. Open it, then give me a call.”
She nodded and started to climb up the rather suspicious looking ladder, cursing the pain in her feet and praying not to fall with each rung she went up. She had a little trouble getting out of the manhole, since her arms decided in that moment to turn to jelly and she had to struggle to keep from plummeting back into the sewer. She finally managed to get through, and sat on her knees for a second, taking deep breaths of the much cleaner smelling, back-alley air.
“Eve? You all right?”
“Fine.” She pushed to her sore feet and limped over to the door. She grabbed the knob and turned, then let out the breath she had been holding when it gave. “It’s open,” she called as she pushed it in the rest of the way. The soft thump of something landing next to her made her let out a little shriek and her heart tried to crawl up into her throat. She glared at Ash as he darted into the dark hall. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry. Come on.”
It occurred to her that he didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, but she didn’t argue.
“Flora’s not here,” he said as he led her down the hall and up a flight of stairs. She couldn’t tell if he was relieved or worried. They climbed up to the second floor and down anoth
er short hall. He paused in front of a fire extinguisher that was bolted to the wall and felt around behind it. When he pulled his hand out, Eve caught a glimpse a key. They proceeded to one of two doors on the floor and he quickly unlocked it.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” he said as they walked inside.
He left her standing inside the door as he made a beeline for the kitchen. Eve looked around the tiny space, deciding that she liked it. A small, open kitchen stood to her left, the dark cabinets and appliances giving the small place a sort of elegance. She was already standing in the living room and the couch, with its dark blue cushions looked extremely inviting. He had a TV and a radio resting together on a long coffee table, and a stack of books balanced on the corner. A glance at the titles had her eyebrow arching in amusement. Shakespeare, Poe … John Saul?
Shaking her head, Eve turned towards the kitchen and found Ash holding a blood bag, draining the contents. Oddly, she wasn’t repulsed. One of her ex-boyfriends had a habit of eating Spaghetti-Os cold, out of the can, over the sink, no less, wearing nothing other than his underwear and a sock. That disturbed her more than watching Ash plunge his fangs into a bag full of hemoglobin and sucking it down like it was candy.
Probably, because you weren’t in love with the other guy.
There was her subconscious again, speaking up and reminding her of things that she didn’t have the time to deal with. She still wasn’t sure what to think of this whole claiming thing, and now her mind was trying to tell her that she was in love. This wasn’t turning out to be her week.
“I don’t have much in the way of food.”
Eve’s attention was jolted back to Ash, and she realized that he wasn’t looking at her. In fact, he seemed to be self conscious. He was still standing by the fridge, holding another full blood bag in his hand and staring at it as if it had the answers to the universe swimming around inside of it. He’s embarrassed, she realized, that I was watching him feed. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she decided it must be the claiming and she hurried over to him. Hurried as much as her cut and bruised feet would let her, anyway.
“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.” She took the bag from his hand and held it up to his lips. “But you go ahead. I insist.”
Their gazes met, and she tried to inject as much acceptance as she could into their silent communication. This is who you are and I don’t mind, she thought, hoping he understood. Her anger at him for lying to her had long since dissipated—funny how that happened when mortal danger was a factor—and her heart was screaming at her to admit what it was trying so desperately to tell her. I love you.
Something changed in his face. Something that stole her breath and made her heart pound in her ears. Even with his eyes glowing red and his face still shifted to its vampire form, his expression softened and a look of wonder filled his eyes. She realized in that moment, that he knew how she felt. She hadn’t said it aloud, but he had heard her anyway. She smiled at him and cupped a hand against his cheek, while motioning with the other. He needed to eat, he needed his strength, she needed him to be all right.
Almost hesitantly, the razor sharp tips of his fangs slid easily into the package, and she watched him, unflinching as he drained it. When it was empty, she lowered it and pushed up on her toes to brush a kiss across his lips. She smiled at the look of shock on his face and for good measure, did it again. When she pulled back the second time, his face had melted back to its human form and his icy blue eyes were filled with so much emotion it brought tears to her eyes.
“Come on,” she said, her voice thick, “let’s go get cleaned up and find Flora. Sebastian has a lot to pay for.” She saw the grief flash through his eyes and hated herself for putting it there. But no matter how safe they might feel right now, they weren’t. They both needed to remember that.
“Okay,” he said with a nod, his own voice hoarse.
After dropping the empty blood bags in the trash, Ash led her through the bedroom to the bathroom. He helped her sit down on the closed toilet seat, and busied himself getting the water started and making sure there were towels. She watched him move around the room and noticed, now that the danger wasn’t eminent, his shoulders were stooped. She could see the lines of grief in his face when he’d glance at her and flash a weak smile.
Eve’s heart broke for him, and she felt more than a little guilty that Cyrus was gone. If she had never gone to them, he would still be alive. But then, she’d never have met Ash. She didn’t know if Ash thought the reward was worth the price. Feeling insecure, she reached out and grabbed his hand. His brows were drawn together when he looked down at her, his eyes filled with concern when he saw the tears glistening on her lashes.
“I’m sorry about Cyrus.”
Pain hardened his face and his fingers tightened around hers. “I have no proof he’s really dead.”
But he believed it. Eve could see it in the lines of his body, the way his muscles were strung tight like a bow. She hadn’t realized until now how close to completely losing it he was and she cursed herself. She flinched with pain as she rose back onto her feet and silently wound her arms around his waist. He stood, stiff in her embrace, desperately trying to hold it together. She ran her hands over his back, soothing his tension.
Inch by inch, Ash started to relax, his arms coming around her to crush her against him. When he broke, it was with the fury of a hurricane, the force of it knocking them both to the floor in a clinging mass of limbs. She held on as he let go, each sob wrenching her heart tighter in her chest until she was sure it would burst from the pressure. The sound of the shower was lost to his grief; the feel of the cold tiles nothing against the power of it. She tightened her arms around him, trying to give him strength to hold on, to let it out, to survive.
Eve didn’t know how long they lay there, but by the time he’d calmed, the steam from the shower had long since dissipated and she had a few more aches to add to her list. They lay on the bathroom floor, his head pillowed on her breasts, her fingers sliding easily through his hair. Her heartbeat was a soothing tattoo in his ear, her touch a balm for his shattered self even as he remembered the first time he had ever laid eyes on Cyrus Tanner.
Ash stalked quickly through the night, his mood foul. The fact that he was drunk far from making it any better. He had been minding his own damn business, slowly nursing the bottle of Jack Daniels, when some asshole fledgling looking to make a name for himself bashed a bottle across his head. Now he stank of old beer and was covered in a fine sheen of dust from plunging a pool stick into the shit’s heart. Why couldn’t they just leave him the fuck alone?
He growled low in his throat and cut into an alley. Almost immediately, a scream reached him followed by the loud, taunting curses of several men. He walked on, not in the slightest way interested, coming out on the other side of the alley to stumble on the scene. Three vampires were holding a young couple, the leader already drinking deep from the woman. She struggled against him, her movements becoming weaker by the second.
“Bastard, let her go!”
Ash’s gaze dropped in the direction of the shout. He saw a man on the ground, bucking against the weight of the two vamps on top of him. He was a big man, tall and barrel-like, with snapping blue eyes full of hatred and desperation.
“What the hell do you want?” the vampire holding the woman asked, raising his head from his feast long enough to glare at Ash.
Ash flashed his red eyes and pulled his lips back in a snarl. “Nothing. Just passing through,” he said with a shrug, moving to step over the man and leave them behind.
“Maggie!”
Ash made it two steps before the anguish in the man’s voice had him stopping and turning around. This is none of your business, he reminded himself, even as he pulled the stake he kept in his jacket free. One look told him the woman was dead, her dark, glassy eyes staring up at the sky. The asshole holding her was doing an impromptu jig with her, tormenting the man even further.
“Thought
you were leaving, friend,” one of the vamps holding the struggling man down said.
“I’m not you’re friend,” Ash replied, and with a quick flick of his wrist sent the stake sailing through the air. The vampire had the nerve to look shocked in the second before he exploded into dust.
“Hey! What the hell is your problem?” The other yelled, letting go of his prey to face the new threat.
“Asses like you that play with your food.” Another stake materialized as if out of thin air and shot through the vamp’s heart like a knife through butter.
By the time he turned around to deal with the third vampire, he was already gone. Wimp, Ash thought, snorting in disgust. He reached down to retrieve his stakes and leave, feeling his civic duty for the night was done. But when he glanced over at the man, the woman gathered close and tenderly in his arms, he felt something inside of him snap. Something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long, long time.
“Hey, mister,” he said, taking a hesitant step forward. He knew he should leave, just walk away and forget all about this. But something pulled him forward, until he was kneeling in front of the couple and staring into a pair of faded blue eyes so full of pain Ash thought he might choke on it. “She’s gone, mister. You should call the police,” he said, not sure if the man looking at him even heard him.
“It’s our anniversary,” the man gasped, looking back down at the beauty lying in his arms.
Ash sat speechless, not sure what to say to ease the man’s pain and not understanding why he felt the need to. His stomach clenched when the most inhuman sounding wail he had ever heard exploded from the man and echoed through the night.