The Tomb of Blood

by Britney Jackson

  Kara’s eyes widened at that. “Hunting? Why was he hunting you?”

  “Because of this,” Rose said, pulling the Stone of the Eklektos out from beneath her shirt. She shrugged sadly. “I didn’t know for sure then, but this is what he wanted. I was still human at the time. I didn’t even believe in vampires,” Rose sighed, guilt twisting at her gut. “He killed one of my teachers. He was coming after me, and I guess he killed her so that there would be no witnesses.”

  Kara’s gaze softened in understanding. “That wasn’t your fault, Rose.”

  “And a few days ago, it happened again,” Rose added, her voice thick with sadness and guilt. “Alana attacked one of my friends…because of me.”

  Kara frowned at that. “Why do you think that it was because of you?”

  “Because Alana told me it was,” Rose sighed, pain lashing through her chest as she thought about that night, as she thought about what Alana had said. “Alana appeared in my dream—or my nightmare, really—the day before it happened. She thought I would understand her. She thought we were the same.”

  “You’re not,” Kara said firmly. “You’re not like her at all.”

  Rose shifted from one foot to the other, unnerved by how Kara’s intense, blue gaze seemed to pierce right through her. “You don’t know as much as she does about me,” she admitted uneasily. “You didn’t see what she saw.”

  Kara tilted her head to the side, her dark hair falling over one shoulder, and her features seemed to soften with sympathy and affection. “Maybe not,” she said softly, “but I’ve known Alana for fourteen hundred years, and in all of those years, Alana has never shown the love or kindness that you showed within the first few minutes after I met you. Alana thinks that you are the same because you have suffered in some of the same ways that she did. But you are different.”

  Rose lifted her head, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “How did you know that?” she asked. “That…I’ve suffered in some of the same ways as her?”

  “There are certain…tells,” Kara said. She smiled sympathetically. “I wouldn’t be much of a rogue if I weren’t overly observant, now would I?”

  “She thought that I would feel the same as her,” Rose said sadly. “She offered to hurt the people who hurt me, to make them suffer. I told her no.”

  “Why?” Kara asked curiously, her voice soft and breathy.

  Rose shrugged. “It’s not who I am. Vengeance…isn’t me.”

  “You’re too kind,” Kara whispered. All of the hardness in her body—the hardness of her eyes, of her smile, of her body language—seemed to soften, all of the sudden. She reached out and brushed her fingers lightly over Rose’s face, her thumb sliding across the softness of Rose’s cheek. “So kind,” she sighed.

  For a moment, Rose didn’t move. She just stared at Kara, into those icy blue eyes, stunned by the timidness and affection in Kara’s touch. It seemed so unlike the bold, mischievous vampire that she’d come to know in the past forty-eight hours. The warmth of Kara’s fingers was so soothing, so sweet, that Rose felt a sudden urge to close her eyes and lean into the touch. An instinctual, animalistic urge. It was as instinctual as the urge to feed…and just as difficult to resist. She cleared her throat, trying to squash that animalistic part of her, the part that was so drawn to Kara. “She said that I’d regret turning her down.”

  Kara nodded in understanding. “And then, she attacked your friend.”

  “Her name is Riley,” Rose said, her brows creasing with anguish. “I don’t even know if she survived. She’d lost so much blood. Owen—another friend of mine—took her to the hospital, but I can’t get in touch with him. None of my friends will answer my phone calls. Audrey knows what I am now. She hates me…for becoming a monster. And…I think Owen might know, too.”

  Kara suddenly stepped closer, her sweet, warm scent enveloping Rose, enticing her. Her hand curved beneath Rose’s jaw, her fingers gently brushing the sensitive skin of Rose’s neck, and she lifted Rose’s face, her piercing, blue gaze boring into Rose. “You are not a monster, Rose,” she said firmly, her voice strong and lilting. “You are a beautiful, incredible creature. Not a monster.”

  Rose felt so breathless from Kara’s touch, so transfixed by Kara’s icy gaze, so stunned by the fierce honesty she saw burning there, in those light blue eyes. “People keep dying because of me,” she told Kara, her voice cracking.

  “That is not your fault,” Kara growled, enunciating each syllable.

  “Then, why do you think that Olivia’s death is yours?” Rose asked.

  Kara dropped her hand and stepped back, her lips parting in surprise. She looked away. “Because…I know how Alana is. I should have known better.”

  “Known better than to what?” Rose asked. “Live? Love? Are you supposed to cease to exist in order to protect everyone on Earth from Alana?”

  Kara laughed bitterly, “If only it were that simple.”

  “You asked if I thought you were evil,” Rose said. “My answer is no.”

  Kara’s eyes widened, a mixture of confusion and affection swirling in their intense, cornflower-blue depths. A soft sigh of disbelief escaped her lips. “You’re so naïve,” Kara said quietly. “You have no idea what I’ve done.”

  “What you’ve done,” Rose asked, “or what Alana has made you do?”

  Kara looked away, pain pulling at her features. “Both.”

  “I don’t care what you’ve done, Kara,” Rose said. Before she could think better of it, she stepped forward, causing the warm, flowery scent of Kara’s hair and skin to invade her senses. Kara’s gaze swept toward her, her eyes darkening with lust. Rose swallowed. “The only thing that matters is who you are now.”

  Kara lifted her hand and placed it on Rose’s face, her soft fingertips brushing lightly over Rose’s cheek, and those icy blue eyes that usually burned and sparkled with lust and mischievousness suddenly softened with affection. “Rose,” she breathed, almost reverently. “I’m not good. I never have been.”

  “Even if you’re not,” Rose said, “that doesn’t mean you’re evil.”

  As Kara stared at Rose, her fingers tracing over Rose’s face as lightly as a feather, something about her seemed to melt away, a façade shattering, leaving behind a softer, more vulnerable part of her. Rose was so mesmerized by the change that she almost didn’t notice Kara leaning forward, her hand drifting lower to rest against the curve of Rose’s neck, her tongue slipping out to wet her lips. Rose snapped out of her daze just as Kara’s lips brushed lightly against hers.

  “So,” Rose blurted awkwardly, “what time does your guard duty start?”

  Kara leaned back, a grin turning up at the corners of her lips. She dropped her hand and let out a short, breathless laugh. “You will kiss me eventually,” she teased, “no matter how many times you change the subject.”

  Rose laughed, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, if I were you.”

  Kara’s eyes sparkled with mischievousness, as if Rose had challenged her to a game that she couldn’t lose. “We’ll see,” she said with a cocky smirk.

  A tiny, high-pitched, nervous laugh escaped Rose’s lips.

  “I usually try to get out there around nine,” Kara said, finally answering Rose’s question. She slid her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. “Which means I still have twenty minutes left. Would you like to get a drink?”

  “I…uh… I don’t drink,” Rose said awkwardly.

  Kara grinned at her. “You have some unusual quirks, don’t you?”

  “I’m a little weird,” Rose confessed. “Maybe a little more than a little.”

  Kara leaned forward and whispered, “That just makes you hotter.”

  Rose frowned. “You…you think it’s hot that I’m weird?” she sputtered.

  Kara winked at her. “Come on,” she said as she spun around and began to lead the way toward the bar. “I need a drink, whether you do or not.”

  Rose caught up with her in a few strides. “Becaus
e you’re hungry?”

  Kara glanced at her. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

  “I’ve been told that I can be very stubborn,” Rose admitted.

  Kara’s lips twitched. “Yes, I am hungry,” she said, drifting closer and closer to Rose as they walked down the hallway. She leaned toward Rose, her lips brushing Rose’s ear. “Why? Are you going to offer me your blood?”

  Rose blinked in shock. “Uh…no,” she squeaked. “I was just…”

  “Relax, ást,” Kara purred in her ear, “I’m only teasing you.”

  Rose tried to suppress the shiver of desire that snaked down her spine as Kara’s voice warmed her ear. She couldn’t understand how the seductive vampire could have so much power over her body. “Ast?” she squeaked, blushing as she realized how breathless she sounded. “What does that mean?”

  Kara smiled, clearly pleased with herself for causing Rose to squeak like an adolescent boy. “It’s pronounced: ást,” she corrected, “and it’s a Norse word.”

  “I figured that part out by myself, actually,” Rose sassed.

  Kara grinned wickedly. “Ah…I love it when you do that.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Oh my word,” she groaned, suppressing a smile.

  When they reached the bar, Rose again found her senses assaulted by the scent of fresh blood. She straightened, breathing slowly and deeply as she tried to gain control of the intense, overwhelming hunger that boiled in her veins.

  Kara’s hand stilled on the door, and she glanced at Rose. Her gaze darkened as it swept up and down Rose’s body. “You’re hungry, too.”

  Rose blushed. “I’m not very good at controlling it yet,” she admitted.

  Kara extended one hand toward Rose, her palm up, revealing her wrist, the pale blue veins visible through her soft, alabaster skin. “Do you need some?”

  The painfully potent wave of hunger that burned through her body at that moment momentarily stunned Rose. She stepped forward, her mouth watering at Kara’s soft, sweet scent, and she ached to lean down and sink her fangs into Kara’s wrist. “No,” Rose managed to choke out. “I…I can’t.”

  Kara raised an eyebrow skeptically. “The offer is always on the table.”

  Rose finally managed to tear her gaze from Kara’s wrist so that she could meet Kara’s gaze. For a moment, she just stared at Kara, stunned that the strange vampire would offer her blood so willingly. “Thank you, but I really shouldn’t.”

  Kara smiled knowingly. “Afraid you won’t be able to handle the bond?”

  Rose swallowed. “No,” she lied.

  Kara leaned against the door, allowing her body to push it open. “Liar,” she mouthed at Rose, her lips once again tilting into that sideways, flirty smile.

  Rose chewed on her lip and then reluctantly followed Kara into the dark, red room that smelled of blood and sweat. She tried to ignore the vampires dancing and kissing as she pushed her way through the crowd, following as Kara led the way toward the bar in the back corner of the room. A sickening sense of dread twisted in her gut as she noticed several vampires turn to stare at her.

  Kara moved closer and slipped her arm around Rose’s hip. Her lips brushed against the shell of Rose’s ear as she leaned in and whispered, “Stay close to me, okay? I don’t like the way those vampires are looking at you.”

  “Do you think this has something to do with Alana?” Rose assumed.

  Kara nodded once, and then, she pressed her finger to her lips, effectively ending the conversation before Rose could ask any more questions. They reached the bar, and Kara hopped onto a barstool. She flashed a seductive smile at Rose and patted the seat next to her, motioning for Rose to sit down.

  Rose reluctantly slid onto the seat. She watched as a broad-shouldered, dark-skinned man dragged a long, white towel across the other side of the bar. His brown eyes shifted toward them, and then, he tossed the towel under the bar and walked over to them. He leaned against the bar, his arms folded.

  “Rose, this is Tom, our bartender,” Kara said. “Tom, this is Rose.”

  “Damn, Kara,” Tom teased. “You have a new girlfriend already?”

  “Oh, I’m not her girlfriend,” Rose corrected.

  “Not yet,” Kara admitted with a cocky smile. “But soon.”

  Rose scowled at Kara’s remark. “I have a boyfriend, actually,” she said.

  Tom shrugged his broad, muscular shoulders. “I had a wife back in the 1800s,” he said with a slight Southern drawl. “Doesn’t mean I like men any less.”

  Rose’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re American,” she blurted.

  Tom grinned. “What gave me away?”

  “Well,” Rose said, her brows furrowing, “you’re pretty much the only person I’ve come across since I arrived that doesn’t speak with a foreign accent.”

  He laughed, “I was born in Mississippi. You?”

  “Florida,” Rose answered. “But…not during the 1800s.”

  “Yeah. Kind of figured,” Tom snorted. “You look like new blood.”

  Rose frowned worriedly. “What the heck does that mean?”

  He didn’t answer. He just chuckled. Then, he grabbed a bottle of red wine from beneath the bar. “Do you want your usual?” he asked Kara.

  “Something a little stronger this time,” Kara answered.

  Tom returned the bottle of wine to its place and leaned against the counter again, his brown eyes softening with concern. He leaned forward, toward Kara, and lowered his voice. “I can give you a blood bag, if you need it.”

  Kara shifted uncomfortably. “Blood and whiskey will be fine.”

  “If you’re sure,” Tom said skeptically. He placed a square glass on the bar counter, and then, he retrieved a bottle of amber-colored liquid from beneath the bar. He poured the whiskey into the glass and grabbed a plastic bag of thick, crimson liquid. The blood swished around in the bag, leaving red stains on the sides. He ripped the bag open with his fangs and poured a few drops into the glass. The thick, red drops splashed into the drink and dissolved into tiny swirls.

  Rose licked her lips as the salty, watery scent flooded her senses.

  Tom pushed the glass toward Kara and then shifted his expectant gaze toward Rose. “What about you?” he asked. “Are you a whiskey girl, too?”

  Rose frowned. “What exactly is a whiskey girl?” she mumbled. She shook her head. “Never mind. No, actually, I don’t drink. But thanks anyway.”

  Tom’s brows furrowed. “I spike it with blood,” he assured her.

  “That’s kind of…worse,” Rose admitted shyly. “I don’t like to feel intoxicated. The idea of not being in control of my own mind makes me uneasy.”

  “Hmm,” Tom said, his eyebrows lifting. “Control freak, huh?”

  Rose scowled. “I prefer the words determined or ambitious.”

  Tom snorted, “Let me know if you change your mind about the drink.”

  Kara waited until Tom walked away before she turned up her glass and drained the blood-spiked whiskey in one gulp. She squeezed her eyes closed, shuddering slightly as the blood took effect. She set the glass back on the bar counter, the glass clanging against the wood. “On the night that I met Olivia, I hadn’t fed in over a week,” she admitted, her eyes still closed. “I was starving.”

  Rose glanced at Kara, surprised that Kara was actually talking about it.

  “She had baby food in her hair. I don’t think she realized it, but she did,” Kara commented, her lips curving into a small smile. “It smelled like bananas. She looked so exhausted. She’d been up all night. She had her hair tossed up in a messy ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup. Hell, she wasn’t even wearing any clothes. She’d left the house in her nightgown.” A soft, pained laugh escaped her lips. “She fell asleep behind the wheel and crashed her car.”

  Rose’s gaze softened in understanding. “You smelled the blood.”

  “I couldn’t resist it,” Kara confessed. “She smelled wonderful, and I was starving. She wa
s bleeding here.” Kara tapped her forehead with her fingertip. “And she was dying anyway. I could smell the death on her. She was bleeding internally. It would’ve taken hours, but she would have died. So, I figured I would be doing her a favor by killing her. She would die quicker, and she wouldn’t be in pain. Her last moments would be…euphoric. I meant to kill her.”

  “But you didn’t,” Rose stated.

  Kara shrugged. “I couldn’t. It doesn’t make sense. It should have been easy. I had every reason to kill her. And…you know how the hunger is. Most vampires can’t stop until the human is dead. Human blood just isn’t enough to sustain us, unless we drain them. But her heart started to slow, and I noticed it.”

  “And you stopped,” Rose assumed.

  Kara dragged her fingertip around the edge of the empty glass, staring down into it thoughtfully. “I healed her with my blood, and then, I left her there. A few nights later, she started searching for me. I tried to stay away from her, but she used her blood bond to find me. She said that she couldn’t stop thinking about me. She kissed me, and she asked me to stay with her that night.”

  “And you did?” Rose guessed.

  Kara nodded. “We started meeting up occasionally,” she sighed. “Olivia was like me—only attracted to women. But she was raised in a very homophobic environment, so she’d repressed that part of herself. She’d married a man and tried to be ‘normal,’ as she called it. Then, a few nights ago, Olivia called me, and she was crying. Somehow, her husband had found out about her, and he was angry. He threatened to tell everyone she knew that she was gay. I could hear him screaming over the phone, threatening her, and…” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I went to her home. I knew better than to go to her home. I knew that Alana could be watching me. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

  Sympathy lanced through Rose’s throat as she heard the guilt and anger in Kara’s voice. “You were thinking that someone you cared about needed you. She was upset and scared, and you wanted to comfort her,” Rose sighed, leaning toward Kara. “You cared about her. You can’t hate yourself for caring.”