Kara wrinkled her nose. “What kind of Viking doesn’t want to fight?”
“The kind that doesn’t want to die tonight,” he muttered. “I love a good fight as much as you do, but I’d prefer to wait until our odds are little better.”
“Well, there is the diplomatic option,” she said in a disgusted tone.
“Right. Let’s do that one,” Erik said, nodding eagerly, “for now.”
Kara shrugged. “Fine,” she grumbled. She stepped forward, still staring at that cracked window. “Alana,” she sang, as if she were coaxing a kitten down from a tree. “Stop hiding behind your army, and get your pretty ass down here.”
Erik’s eyes widened at her. “You call that diplomatic?”
“I called her pretty,” Kara said defensively.
A rickety door creaked open as someone stepped out onto the fire exit, her silky, blue dress swaying in the wind. “You know,” murmured that familiar, lilting voice, “I don’t enjoy being summoned, like some kind of…servant.”
Erik froze as he recognized that beautiful, seductive voice. He looked up at the fire exit above them, at the woman who leaned over the metal railing.
And he saw her…for the first time in thirteen hundred years.
12
Powerless
Alana watched them from the fire exit, the orange glow of the streetlight spilling over her white-blonde hair and her soft, alabaster skin. A thin, silky blue dress hugged every slight curve of her petite, feminine figure. The neckline of her dress swept low between her breasts, revealing their soft, rounded curves. The harsh, cold wind caused the thin, flimsy dress to sway and whip around her body, revealing a hint of her soft, pale thighs. Her plump, pink lips curved into that familiar, seductive smile, and her dark blue eyes sparkled with amusement.
Kara glanced at Erik and rolled her eyes. “Erik, stop drooling over her.”
Erik blinked as he remembered where he was. “Oh, like you don’t?”
Kara shrugged. “I have a better poker face than you do.”
The metal stairs squealed and creaked as Alana slowly descended them, taking one step at a time, moving much slower than necessary. “Kara…darling, don’t discourage him,” she chided. “I love it when he looks at me like that.”
Kara scowled at her. “I know you do. That’s why I told him to stop.”
Alana’s high-heeled shoes clacked against the pavement as she crossed the space between them. “You’re such a terrible girlfriend, Kara,” she scolded.
“And yet, that’s still not enough to get you to leave me alone,” Kara said.
Alana reached up and touched Kara’s hair, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she ran her fingers through the soft, blue hair. “What did you do to your hair?”
“It’s called hair-dye,” Kara said. “I think it looks interesting.”
Alana grimaced. “Well, I hate it,” she snarled, tugging at Kara’s hair.
Kara just smiled. “Good,” she said. She lifted her hands to grasp Alana’s face, and with a low growl, she leaned forward and kissed Alana’s soft, full lips.
At first, Alana was too shocked to react, but then, her shock morphed into need, and she soon found herself looping her arms around Kara’s neck and pulling Kara’s body flush against hers. The familiarity of Kara’s lean, muscular body up against her smaller, softer body felt nicer than Alana wanted to admit. She moaned at the feel of Kara’s warm, wet lips pressing hard against hers, and she moaned at the roughness of the kiss. Alana could almost feel the scorching anger and hatred in the way that Kara kissed, in the way that Kara gripped Alana’s hips and face, in the way that Kara growled against Alana’s lips as they kissed. She gasped as Kara’s fangs sank into her bottom lip, but the pain quickly morphed into pleasure as Kara sucked at the blood that surfaced on her lip. The kiss was so intense that Alana nearly forgot where they were. She nearly forgot that they were on opposite sides of an imminent war. That is, until she felt the white-hot pain slicing through her stomach. She gasped and stumbled backward.
Dark, bitter hatred burned within Kara’s piercing blue eyes as she stared at Alana. She had one arm looped around Alana’s waist, holding Alana’s weight, and her other hand gripped the dagger that she’d plunged into Alana’s stomach.
Alana glanced down at her stomach, watching as blood oozed around the dagger’s blade, staining her dress. “Get that out of me, Kara,” she snarled.
“Did you hurt her?” Kara growled quietly. “Did you make her cry?”
“I’m not sure who you mean,” Alana said. Her voice had a mocking edge to it, but the fact that her voice cracked with pain as she spoke lessened the impact of it. Her dark blue eyes narrowed. “Get the dagger out of my stomach.”
“Answer my question, and I will,” Kara said coldly.
Alana gave her a pleading look. “It’s hurting me, Kara,” she said softly.
The anger burning in Kara’s light blue eyes seemed to soften at that. “Just tell me that Olivia died painlessly,” Kara begged. “At least give me that.”
Alana smiled. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she murmured. She leaned forward, staring into Kara’s pain-filled eyes. “I give the orders, not you.”
Kara’s jaw tightened. “Don’t do it,” she growled.
Alana took control of Kara’s mind and snarled, “Take out the dagger.”
Unable to resist the telepathic command, Kara ripped the dagger out of Alana’s stomach and stepped back, her light blue eyes flashing with resentment.
Alana whimpered at the pain and covered her bleeding stomach with her hand. She stepped toward Kara. “Now, drop your weapons,” she snarled.
Kara dropped the dagger—soaked in Alana’s fresh blood—onto the ground, the metal clanging against the concrete. Then, she reached under her shirt and unhooked the weapon belts, allowing them to fall to the ground as well.
Alana prowled toward her, a smile curving at her lips as she leaned in close and hissed, “To answer your question, yes, she did cry. She cried from the time I stabbed her until the moment she took her last breath. And do you know what else she did? She called out your name. She thought you would save her.”
A soft, choked sob escaped Kara’s lips. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “I hate you,” she growled, staring at the pavement beneath her boots.
“Don’t you get it, Kara?” Alana growled, clutching the wound in her stomach. “You can hurt me, but you will never hurt me as badly as I can hurt you.”
“That’s because I don’t enjoy hurting you,” Kara said quietly.
Alana frowned at her for a moment, clearly confused by that statement. But then, her dark blue gaze shifted past Kara, toward the tall, blonde man who was still staring at her as if he’d seen a ghost, his green eyes wide and his mouth ajar. “Well, hello, Erik,” she murmured, offering him a sweet smile. “Are you just going to stand there, gawking at me, all night? Or are you going to say hello?”
“I just…I can’t believe it’s really you,” he whispered. It seemed more like he was talking to himself than to Alana. “I can’t believe you’re really alive.”
“Of course I’m alive,” Alana scoffed, completely ignoring his obvious pain. “Didn’t that pretty little redhead tell you? I assumed she would tell you.”
“Rose,” Kara realized. “You’re talking about Rose, aren’t you?”
Alana turned back toward Kara and smiled. “I almost killed her. Did she tell you? It was so much fun,” she giggled. “I’m honestly glad that she survived, though. She is so powerful. I would love to taste her. Or better yet, control her.”
Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Stay away from her.”
“Ah, you like her!” Alana exclaimed in delight. “I figured you would.”
Kara continued to stare at Alana, her icy blue eyes flashing dangerously.
“All of those years,” Erik managed to say, his voice strangled and hoarse, “I thought I couldn’t get over you. I thought there was something wrong with me becau
se I still dreamed about you. But it was you. It was always you.”
“Oh, come on,” Alana chided. “You say that like it was torture.”
Erik narrowed his eyes at her use of that word. “It was.”
Alana sauntered toward him. She didn’t stop until she stood so close that her body pressed against his. She looped her arm around his neck, her fingers finding the blonde curls at the nape of his neck. She pulled him closer. “Torture is the wrong word, love,” she whispered against his lips. Her lips curved into a seductive smile. “I seem to remember you receiving plenty of pleasure.”
Erik just stared down at her. “But at what price?”
Alana let go of him so suddenly that Erik nearly stumbled backward. Her mouth twisted into an unflattering scowl. “You are both so ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful?” Kara said incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”
Alana turned to look at Kara. “I gave you immortality.”
“And then, you made that immortality a living hell,” Kara snarled.
Alana sighed, “Why must you be this way?” She returned to Kara, her heels clicking against the pavement. She tilted her head to the side, her pale blonde hair spilling over one shoulder, sadness glistening in her dark blue eyes. “I miss the way things were before,” she pouted, tracing Kara’s arm with her fingernail, watching as chill bumps rose on Kara’s fair skin. “When you first fell in love with me, you were so kind. You were fierce with everyone else but gentle with me. I loved that. But now, you’re always so angry, and I don’t know why.”
Kara raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t know why?”
“I just wish you wouldn’t have become like this,” Alana sighed.
“Well, Alana,” Kara growled, her eyes narrowing, “if you didn’t want someone who fights back, maybe you should have picked a slave, not a warrior.”
A loud crack echoed through the alley as Alana slapped Kara, the force of the slap nearly knocking Kara down. “You know how I feel about that word!” Alana cried, her dark blue eyes wide with hysteria. “I hate that word—slave.”
One side of Kara’s face had already began to bruise, but she acted as if it didn’t hurt at all. She just stared at Alana, her brows creasing with sympathy.
Tears streamed down Alana’s face. “Why did you have to say that?”
“Alana,” Kara sighed, her voice softening, “it was just a word.”
Alana wiped the tears from beneath her eyes with her fingertip. A strangely delicate action, considering the aggressive outburst she’d just had. She lifted her chin elegantly, as if nothing had happened. “I need to speak with Erik.”
Kara laughed, “Do you honestly think I’m going to leave you alone with him? I know you, Alana. As soon as I leave, you’ll take control of his mind.”
“Well, aren’t you clever?” Alana sneered. She rolled her eyes and sighed, “You two were so much more fun before you decided to team up against me.”
“We’re not against you,” Kara argued. “We’re against being used by you.”
“Whatever. You don’t want to leave? You don’t have to,” Alana said.
Kara frowned worriedly. “What do you mean by that?”
Alana smiled. “You’re tired, aren’t you, darling?”
“No,” Kara answered, but as she denied it, an overwhelming drowsiness suddenly cascaded over her, blurring her vision and thoughts. “Alana, please…”
Alana poked out her bottom lip. “Aw, poor thing. You look exhausted,” she cooed. An enticing smile curved at her lips. “Why don’t you take a little nap?”
Alana’s telepathic command took effect immediately, and Kara instantly fell unconscious, collapsing face-first onto the pavement with sickening thud.
Alana cringed at the sound. “Oops. I probably should have commanded her to lie down first,” she realized. She turned toward Erik. “It sounded painful.”
Erik narrowed his eyes at her. “Alana,” he began.
“Ah, come on. Don’t take her side,” Alana interrupted, hearing his thoughts before he spoke. She returned to him, leaving Kara lying on the ground, several feet away. “You’re my boyfriend, not hers. She doesn’t even like men.”
Erik sighed, “I’m not your boyfriend, Alana. Not anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” Alana laughed. “Of course you are.”
In that moment, Erik wished that Alana didn’t look so beautiful in the moonlight, with the pale, bluish light falling over her soft, alabaster skin and pale blonde hair. He wished that he wasn’t still so attracted to her after all of these years. He wished that he didn’t feel the urge to enclose her small body in his arms, that he didn’t feel the urge to kiss her soft, full lips. He wished that he hadn’t missed her. And more than anything, he wished that he didn’t still love her. “I left you, Alana,” he reminded her, frowning, “twelve hundred years ago.”
Alana giggled, as if she knew a secret that he didn’t. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “No. I let you leave me. I always knew where you were.”
Erik dragged his hand through his wavy, blonde hair. “I still left.”
She frowned, as if he were the one who sounded insane. “Well, yes, but like I said, I knew where you were. I just let you have your space for a while.”
For a moment, he just stared at her, his green eyes wide. “Space,” he repeated in a low, hollow tone. He reached out and placed his hands on her bare arms, only his palms touching her soft skin, his fingers curled out, as if he were fighting the urge to literally shake some sense into her. “Alana,” he said slowly. “I didn’t leave because I wanted space. I left because I wanted this to be over.”
“Well, now, you’re back,” Alana said, “so it’s not over anymore.”
“That’s…not how it works,” Erik sighed. “I don’t want to be with you.”
She just smiled at him. “Yes, you do. You love me.”
“No, I don’t,” he growled, dropping his hands. “Not anymore.”
Her smile didn’t even waver. “You’re lying,” she giggled. She stepped forward and looped her arms around his neck. “I can see your thoughts, darling.”
He sighed, “Fine. You’re right. I still love you. But I also hate you.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “Isn’t that how it always is?”
Erik rested his hands on her soft, slender hips. He told himself that he was just doing it because he felt awkward with his hands by his sides, but as he felt her body under his hands again, after so many centuries of separation, some of the pain in his chest seemed to ease. “Believe it or not, I’ve heard that there are actually couples out there who aren’t as dysfunctional as us,” he quipped.
Alana tightened her hold around him, pressing her soft, gentle curves against him. “Kiss me,” she whispered, tilting her face up. “I know you want to.”
He should have said no. He should have hesitated, at least.
But as her sweet, familiar scent overwhelmed his senses, as her familiar form pressed against him, something inside him responded, just as it always had.
He lifted one hand to cradle the back of her head, her soft, pale blonde hair sliding between his fingers, as he pressed his lips against hers. Even after all of these years, the connection between them still felt as strong as it had the day he left her, and that connection felt tangible as their lips met, as their bodies met.
Erik pulled back, groaning, as Alana unzipped his pants and slipped her hand inside to touch him. “Damn it, Alana,” he muttered. “I’m here to kill you.”
“No, you’re not,” she hissed against his lips. “You would never kill me.”
He opened his eyes, frowning at her. “I might not have a choice.”
“You have everyone fooled,” she said, a smile twitching at her lips. “You have them all convinced that you would have never done those things, if I hadn’t commanded you to do them. But you can’t fool me, darling. You loved it.”
Erik pushed her away, anger flashing in h
is bright green eyes. “I loved you!” he growled. “I never loved the things you forced me to do. I loved you.”
Alana watched him with a smile. “You’d do anything for me.”
“I would have…back then,” Erik admitted quietly, “but not anymore.”
Alana took a step toward him. She grasped his shirt in her hands and pulled him toward her, tilting her face up toward his. “Don’t lie to me, love.”
Erik should have stopped her when she tried to kiss him again. He knew that he should have. But his body listened to his heart, not his mind, and contrary to what he had told everyone else, contrary to what he’d told himself even, he still loved her. And…well, the way she was touching him at the moment wasn’t helping matters. He groaned at the painful hunger that burned inside of him.
“You’re hungry,” she murmured against his lips, “aren’t you?”
“No,” he said, his voice breaking from the pain. “I don’t want to feed.”
Alana pulled back to look at him, her dark blue eyes narrowing at him. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, Erik,” she snarled. Erik growled in frustration when she grasped his chin and tilted his face down toward hers. She stared into his bright green eyes as she took control of his mind. “Tell me the truth.”
Erik couldn’t resist her telepathic control. “I’m starving. It’s agony,” he confessed, “especially right now…with you. I want you more than anyone else.”
Alana tilted her head to the side, her pale blonde hair falling over one shoulder. “Aww,” she cooed. “You’re so sweet when I force you to tell the truth.” She smiled. “Well, what kind of lover would I be if I let you go hungry?”
“No,” he pleaded. “It took me decades to gain even a semblance of self-control. If I get a taste of blood, I don’t know if I can go back to starvation.”
“Why would you?” Alana laughed. “I hate Kallias for making you starve yourself. I would have never made you suffer like that. If you had just stayed…”
Erik’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? Did you really just say that you would never make me suffer? You have done nothing but make me suffer!”
The Tomb of Blood Page 31