Sweet Desire, Wicked Fate
Page 12
The warmth of Datura’s blood and poisons penetrated, mixing with Jaden’s own blood, pumping through her arteries like hot embers. She began shaking. Droplets of perspiration covered her skin. Foam dribbled from the sides of her mouth. She fought to stay conscious.
Datura abruptly extracted her fangs and jumped back. Jaden sucked in a breath of air. Her body felt as if it was being wrenched in a vice. Turning her head, she found Briz standing behind her. She realized he was holding her tightly in his arms. She tried to scream at him to run before he was attacked, but all her words were garbled together.
The Mal Rous’ laughter shrilled through the room. Jaden could hear Briz gasp as the sight of the monsters registered.
“Ain’t that sweet.” Blood splattered from Datura’s mouth as she scoffed. “He’s gonna protect her.”
“Let me get him.” Tig spun around, circling Jaden and Briz. “Let me get him for what she done to Anders and ya.”
With a bloody grin, Datura nodded.
Jaden tried to kick out at Tig, but her legs wouldn’t move. Her body was as useless as a mangled rag doll. She fell limp in Briz’s arms.
He was dragging her back toward the doorway when Tig clamped onto his leg, tendrils boring into his calf. Holding onto Jaden, Briz swung his leg wildly, pounding Tig against the doorjamb. The rodent dug her claws in deeper. Struggling to keep his balance, Briz heaved Tig against the frame of the door again, and her tendrils released. Another blow and her hands dropped away. She staggered in a circle.
Briz lifted Jaden into his arms as Anders rose to his feet and approached them.
“Let ‘em go.” Datura smiled, smearing Jaden’s blood over her face and breathing it in.
Jaden could feel the adrenalin pumping through Briz as he carried her out to the porch and down the stairs.
“I don’t trust ‘em.” Ivan stood in the doorway, watching them. “The Professor said no one can ever know ‘bout us. They is gonna tell others.”
Laughing, Datura stood next to Ivan, her beady eyes on Briz, watching as Tig’s poisons worked their way into his system, causing his muscles to spasm.
Sinking to his knees, Briz let Jaden slide from his arms. Then he pulled himself upright and drew her back to her feet. As they plunged into the growth, Jaden felt her legs being dragged over the ground like useless baggage. The sensation of branches scraping her fresh poison-ivy welts was a painfully pleasant reminder that she was still alive.
She became aware of the aroma of blood on Briz’s calf. It smelled sweet. Her own blood stank like a dead animal. With her eyes closed, she saw flickering images of the Mal Rous. She knew that if the beasts were really right behind them, there was nothing she could do to stop them. Briz scooped her up into his arms and Jaden’s head flopped back. Opening her eyes, she saw that the sky had cleared. The stars above were plummeting toward her like shards of colored glass.
The feeling of burning embers moving through her veins subsided. But her mind continued spinning in and out of consciousness as if she were sinking into a hot whirlpool. When they finally broke free from the tangled plants, she could smell Briz’s sweat more intensely than the fragrance of his blood. She inhaled it as if it were a drug that aroused her animal instincts, and she knew that the fear and confusion pumping through him was propelling him forward.
He didn’t slow down until they reached the estate.
Jaden raised her head and tried to focus. Briz’s parked car was a fuzzy blob in front of the house. Had it truly been only a couple of hours since he’d come to help work on the place? He carried her into the sitting room and laid her on Elvina’s tattered Queen Ann sofa. Jaden watched his blurry form turn on a lamp and walk into the kitchen. The stillness closed in around her. It seemed as if he was gone for hours. When he reappeared, he was carrying a pan of water, a towel, and the first aid kit her mother had been adamant about buying after Carl was bitten.
Briz was talking to her. Jaden could hear him though he sounded far away. It was as if she was immersed in a clear liquid resin that blocked not only his words but also her ability to think sensibly. When he knelt down to clean the deep slash in her leg, she leaned forward and took a deep breath. His sweat, mixed with the smell of his blood, was intoxicating. Slipping off the couch, Jaden pressed herself against him. He gently pushed her away, but she didn’t care. Coaxing his head to hers, she bit lightly down on his earlobe.
He shifted back, looking at her warily.
The innocent girl she’d been earlier today, trembling at her first kiss, was nowhere to be found. Now she wasn’t feeling the least bit pure or virtuous. Taking hold of his shoulders, Jaden drew Briz closer, letting her lips fondle his. This time he didn’t stop her. He let out a sigh—not of protest but longing. Tasting her, his mouth willingly melted into hers. Sliding down, lying on the floor, the feeling of losing control began to overtake them both.
CHAPTER 20
Briz rolled onto his back pulling Jaden on top of him. Her deep kisses electrified his body. His mind, yanked out of a state of shock, was now racing toward a libido-driven joy ride.
Sitting up, Jaden lifted his shirt and ran her fingers firmly over his chest. Then he watched her pull up her own shirt high enough to reveal her lacy lilac bra. He felt a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He had never imagined her wearing a lacy bra. Well, maybe he had. But he hadn’t imagined her being so aggressive.
She lowered her body on top of his. The feel of her skin touching his, her lips pressing against his—Briz questioned why he’d ever wanted to take things slow with her.
Then her body convulsed. Her mouth slid from his and she went limp in his arms.
Shifting her onto the faded rug, Briz pressed his fingers against her neck. Her pulse surged, then seemed to stop. He pulled her shirt back down, put his head to Jaden’s chest and listened. A beat, fading into the distance, barely reached his ear.
He felt her cheek. Her skin was no longer feverish but ice cold.
What was I thinking? Get real. She’s hurt. She could be dying. Not to mention, no birth control. What a dick.
A noise brought him to his feet. Standing protectively next to Jaden’s unconscious body, he listened to the sound of wings flapping. Whether it was because of the gouges in his leg, lust, or fright, his heart was pounding. He tried to spot where the noise was coming from and saw something hovering up near the ceiling.
Briz gasped.
“No. Fairies aren’t real.” His chest felt compressed. He couldn’t breathe. His head fell forward and he sank to the floor.
When he opened his eyes, the flying thing was chewing on Jaden’s leg. Raising himself onto his elbows, he forced out his words, begging it to leave Jaden alone. He tried to swallow but his throat was too dry.
The thing lifted its head and spit blood onto the carpet.
Briz tried to stand but his legs wouldn’t respond. All he could do was watch the creature as it fixed its mouth to Jaden’s leg again. He could hear a slurping as it sucked out more of her blood. His face contorted. It was a bizarre pixie vampire and he’d be next. No, no, vampires didn’t exist—or maybe they did. After what he’d seen tonight, how could he say what was real and what wasn’t anymore?
Again the thing raised its small head from Jaden's leg, spat, and wiped its mouth. Removing disinfectant and gauze from the first aid kit, it cleaned and dressed Jaden’s wound, spreading salve over the poison-ivy lesions that covered her legs.
When it was done, its attention turned to Briz.
He sat up and squeezed his eyes shut, then quickly opened them again to make this nightmare disappear. His mind was playing tricks on him. He was hallucinating. Wasn’t he?
The fairylike bloodsucker stood up. With its left leg hanging limply from its hip, it raised its hands as if to show him it wouldn’t harm him.
“You may call me Violet,” it said in a soft voice.
“What are you?” Briz asked, doubting it was real. He’d had LSD once, when his so-called friend Marcus had sn
uck a tab in his lunch. Was he having some kind of flashback?
“I am a friend of Jaden’s. I was not hurting her.”
It was talking to him, but Briz was positive he was imagining it. “Friend, yeah, right.”
“I was trying to remove any possible traces of poison from her leg,” Violet said.
Poison. Briz’s eyes widened.
“I assume you were at the shack?” Violet asked. She gestured toward his wounds. “And the Mal Rous did this to you?”
Briz’s shoulders rose as he dragged in a breath of stale air. “Mal Rous … ?” he said, exhaling and lowering his shoulders.
“Yes, that is what they are called.” Violet pointed at Briz’s leg. “May I examine—”
“What’s going on?” Briz cut her off, shrinking back as she hobbled closer. “Where did you—they—come from? Are you things even real? Are you a Mal Rou?”
“Yes, we are real.” She stepped closer. “No, I am not a Mal Rou, I am a Bellibone. We were … are … genetic experiments.” Violet knelt down next to him.
“The dark side of cloning,” Briz whispered. Then he became still as a hunted deer.
“Many years ago Jaden’s grandfather, Professor Dekle Thatcher, created us.” Hesitantly touching his leg, Violet cleaned off the blood. “May I ask your name?”
There was a lump in Briz’s throat the size of a rotten apple. Pulling on his collar, he mumbled his name.
“The one that did this to you, what did it look like?”
Briz rubbed his throat. “It jumped up in the air, circling around, then stabbed me with …”
“That would be Tig.”
None of what had happened in the shack—or was happening now—made any sense. Briz steadied his breathing as Violet’s small hands kneaded around the punctures in his calf, releasing a pocket of pus. She pressed her lips to the openings and carefully sucked out any remaining poisons, then applied a disinfectant.
“It seems that Tig’s tendrils didn’t penetrate all the way.” Violet took note of Briz’s sallow skin and enlarged pupils. “However, she injected enough spurges poison to cause dizziness and shock. I am surprised the two of you were able to walk all the way to this house.”
“She didn’t,” Briz said, looking at Jaden. “I carried her.”
“Do you know which one did this to her?”
“A thing with worms all over its head. Jade must have hit it with something. Its mouth was bleeding. When I got into the shack, it was biting into Jade’s leg.”
“Datura,” Violet said the name with disdain. “Are you certain its mouth was bleeding?”
Briz nodded.
“Oh no …” Violet’s hand hovered over her mouth. “The Mal Rous will trust her now.”
“What are you talking about?”
Violet didn’t respond. Her silence weighed on Briz’s body like a cement casket. Refusing to submit to the mania that threatened to take hold of him, his mind pushed against the weight. He took a deep breath and said loudly, “I have to get Jade to the hospital.”
“The hospital will not be able to help her,” Violet said matter-of-factly.
“Well, that’s where her sister took their mom. I’m guessing one of those things got her, too.”
Or was it you?
“Jaden’s mother was attacked?” Wisps of Violet’s hair stood straight up.
“Yeah, earlier, upstairs. I figure Jade knew about them, and that’s why she went after them.”
Violet’s shoulders drooped. “Fair is foul, and foul is fair—”
“Hover through the fog and filthy air.” Briz finished the quote. This is crazy; she’s read Macbeth? He rubbed his brow.
“This is my fault.” Violet surveyed Jaden’s inert form. “If I hadn’t left, they would not have hurt her mother. Datura would not have bitten Jaden. They were preparing to dismember me and I … I panicked.”
Dismember? Briz pulled on his ear as if something was wrong with his hearing. “Hey, I don’t really get what you’re talking about … or if any of this is even real… .”
“We are quite real.”
“Sure you are.” All Briz knew was that he wanted to get Jaden out of there. “I have to get Jade to a doctor.” He motioned toward the two gouges in his leg. “We both need medical attention. I should call the cops, too.”
“The hospital, the police … they will be of no help.”
Briz wasn’t interested in arguing with an imaginary creature about what he should or shouldn’t do.
“To save her,” Violet continued, “it would be best if you could find the triplets.”
“Triplets. What the hell are they? Shakespearean fairies that’ll make everything all right? We don’t need any more bayou fairies.”
Violet cocked her head. Her hair bristled. “Fairies don’t actually exist, Briz.”
“Well, you look like one.”
“Trust me, I am not a fairy.” Her tone was crisp, but her touch remained gentle as she secured a piece of gauze to his leg. “I have always thought the triplets could have stopped the Professor from becoming one of them.”
“One of what?” Briz asked. “What happened to the professor?” As he waited for an answer, he thought he could hear the rapid beating of the Bellibone’s heart. “One of what?” he asked again.
“A Mal Rou.” Violet’s wings quivered.
“That’s impossible.” He rubbed his eyes, then looked at the gauze on his leg. “Shit, I’m so messed up. None of this is really happening.”
Violet pressed her small fingers against his leg.
“Briz, look at me. I am real. The Mal Rous are real. At one time the triplets prepared the Professor’s formulas for him. They may be able to help Jaden.”
Briz brushed Violet’s hand away. Both hemispheres of his brain were working overtime. Then a memory prickled under his skin. When he found his words, his voice was tight. “Jade … Jade asked Hubs to take her to the triplets.”
Violet murmured Hubs’s name.
“Did they change Hubs too?” Briz asked. “Is that what’s wrong with him?”
“Hubs, Hubs …” Violet kept repeating his name. “Of course.” She spoke slowly. “Hubbard. That was the name of the little boy that lived at the shack. No, the Mal Rous only tortured him.”
Tortured him.
“That’s why he locked himself in his trailer when I said Guyon Manor.” Briz gasped. “Jade’s not going to end up like him, is she?
“Am I?”
“You must find Hubs.”
“There’s no way Hubs can help her. He can barely …” Briz's energy was dwindling. He had to do something now. He had actually started to believe that this was all real. “I’m taking her to the hospital. It’ll be faster, safer. Saner.”
“Briz. Please, go to Hubs. Tell him what happened. Tell him that Jaden may take on their traits. Have him take her to the triplets.”
“The Mal Rous traits?” The words felt as if they were swelling in his throat, choking him.
Violet and Briz looked at Jaden. Moments ago she had seemed fevered. Now she appeared pallid and cold. Dark red spots were already showing through the gauze Violet had fastened to her leg. “If you get her to the triplets right away … they might be able to stop her from becoming one of them.”
“Might be able to—? No, I’m taking her to the hospital.”
“The hospital staff, those medical doctors, will not be able to help her. They won’t understand what is happening to her. You have no idea of what is happening. How are you going to explain it to them? Do you honestly think they would believe you?”
Briz pushed himself up. Surrendering to the possibility that he wasn’t hallucinating, he tried to steady his legs as well as his mind. He ignored the pain and weakness of his own body and lifted Jaden in his arms. Blood oozed from his bandage, trickling down his leg as he carried her to his car.
“The triplets, Briz,” Violet called from the front porch. “And please, don’t tell anyone about me.”
&nbs
p; “They’d just laugh me off.” Under his breath he mumbled, “Or lock me up.” He looked past Violet at the house. During the day it exuded the aura of a southern mansion being resurrected. Now it was ominous, foreboding.
As he lowered Jaden into the front seat he heard Violet recite more lines from Macbeth.
“When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain. When the hurly-burly’s done, when the battle’s lost and won.”
Driving away, Briz gripped the steering wheel and yelled, “WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?”
CHAPTER 21
Ava hated hospitals. She could never fathom why anyone would choose to work in one. They were always full of sick people.
Finding no one around to help her, she had struggled alone to get her mom into the building. Now at the sight of Brooke slumped over in a plastic chair, the taste of hysteria filled Ava’s mouth as if she’d gargled with ammonia. Her head was pounding. Her nerves were shredded. Her mother’s blood covered her hands. It was smeared across her arms and blouse.
“Is anyone here? Come on, someone help me. My mom’s dying here!” Ava was shouting at the stark white walls when a middle-aged woman came through a set of swinging doors. “This dump is the hospital, right? It looks like a cheap motel. I drove past it three times. Are you going to help me or what?”
An ex-boyfriend had once told Ava that her overbearing and bossy nature was like a tear gas grenade. She accepted that as true. The grenade was detonating now, and as usual she had a deep-seated unwillingness to control it.
As the woman sat down at her desk, Ava kept talking.
“I don’t get you people. Are you blind, or are your brains clogged up from eating too many fried foods? Why are you just sitting there?” Ava flattened her hands on the desktop and leaned into the woman’s face. “My mom’s hurt. She’s dripping blood all over your cheap vinyl flooring.” Reading the woman’s nametag, Ava straightened up. With perfect posture she looked down her nose and said, “Jezebel … who names their kid that? So, Jezebel, my mom’s in some kind of a coma. She’s unconscious.”
Jezebel frowned while repeatedly pressing a button on the wall.