by Rhea, Lani
“I’m here for you.”
His head tilted to the side. Damn, he freaked her out.
“I’ll let you feed from my wrist, but not my throat, okay?”
He growled again. This time, the sound lifted the hairs on her arms. He didn’t sound like he recognized her as anything but food. Ryant, are you near the door?
Yes.
Come in here, please. Help me with this.
“Why are you talking to Ryant?” Darin rasped. “He doesn’t need to be in here with us.”
Panic stung her body like a swarm of bees. She turned to Darin. “What?”
“He doesn’t need to be in here with you and me.”
She hadn’t asked Ryant out loud. Okay, now Darin really scared her. She only thought Ryant could hear what she said through their mind communications. Fuck the feeding.
“Ryant!” she screamed. She scrambled backward, huddled in the fireplace, trembling as Darin crawled on his hands and knees for her
The door flung open and Ryant was over Darin in no time. He hissed and threw Darin across the room. He smashed into a table, obliterating it to bits.
Darin sprang back, not lunging toward Ryant, but for her. Kris shot out of the fireplace and rushed for the door with Darin in tow.
Ryant yanked him by the waist, tossed Darin against the windows. The glass cracked. This time, he sprang for Ryant, and Kris yelled, “V, get your ass in here now!”
V entered the room scattering the soot scent around with her haste. Kris covered her mouth as Ryant and V tackled Darin. Did all new bloods act this way? As if they’d turned animalistic? Sure hadn’t seemed that way in the death ring.
“I got him. Get out.” V held back Darin as Ryant made his way to Kris and shoved her out of the room.
Before he shut the door behind them, she caught Darin’s dark eyes and shuddered at the desire for her death in the depths.
Ryant escorted her toward the break room as a million questions bombarded her mind, circling and never stopping. Would Darin be normal again? What a stupid thought. He was now a vampire. Of course, he would never be normal. How long would it take for at least a small fraction of his old self to return? Maybe she’d made the worst mistake of her life and Darin would suffer. Again.
“Your thoughts are driving me crazy.” As they entered the room, Ryant’s hand rested on the small of her back. “Here, take a seat and I’ll make you some coffee.”
There was no clock. “What’s the time?”
“It’s six in the morning.”
Emotionally drained, she sank into the chair. “I can’t believe what just happened.”
“Something is wrong with Darin.”
“You think.” She swiped her hand over the table.
“Not just that. Something else. I intend to find out exactly what. I don’t want you near him until we know.” Ryant busied himself with her coffee. He turned to face her. “I’m serious. Do not go near him.”
“Trust me, I won’t.”
He studied her, and then walked her way, knelt on the ground before her. “Are you okay?” He smoothed a hand over her cheek.
“That scared the shit out of me, Ryant. He heard me talk to you through my mind.”
He stopped caressing her skin. “What?”
“Yes. He heard me talk to you. I thought you were the only one who could hear me.”
“Me too.” With a scowl, he got to his feet and paced the floor.
“What are we going to do?” She nibbled on her bottom lip.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head and paused. “V says she’s calmed Darin down, gave him some of her blood and his body didn’t reject it.”
“What does that mean?”
“When a vampire gives blood to feed, too much can kill a new blood. Fresh blood, non-vampire blood is usually what’s needed to complete the transformation. Seems he didn’t need the non-vampire blood and is doing fine on the vamp blood and he shouldn’t be.”
“Sounds very wrong.”
“I agree.” His gaze softened on her. “You’re tired, my love. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep? I can trash the coffee.”
Maybe she should rest. “I think I will. Try to forget about what happened.”
“I think that would be wise. Though I know what you went through will trouble your mind. Try not to worry. I’m here for you, Kris.”
The same thing she’d said to Darin before she had him turned. Still, she gave Ryant a weak smile. “Thank you.”
“Come on, I’ll walk you to my room.” He offered his hand, and she accepted.
As they walked to his room, she clung to his frame, needing his strength and support. Once inside his room, he walked behind her, guiding her to the bed. With tenderness, he pushed her onto the mattress then slipped off her shoes and socks and tucked her under the covers.
“Rest.”
“I’ll try my best.”
He kissed her, smoothing her hair off the pillow.
* * * *
The cell phone ringing tore her from her sleep. What the hell? Grumbling, she leaned over the side of the bed. As she fumbled through the pile of her things on the floor, she extracted her cell and checked the caller ID. It was Josh. “Hello?”
“Were you sleeping?”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t heard from you in a while. You said you had information you wanted to talk to me about. Can we meet?”
“Right now?” She only wanted to sleep.
“I have a couple of hours free. My schedule is tight after today.”
“Crap. Okay. Where?”
“Alligator Alley.”
That was two hours away. Wait, she was in New Orleans, close to Gretna. Damn, she was tired. “Okay, give me thirty minutes, and I’ll be there.”
“Sounds good.”
She snapped the phone shut and groaned, leaning back on the bed. Kris caressed the headache throbbing down the middle of her forehead.
After she got out of bed, she found a pen and paper on Ryant’s desk. She wrote a small note. I’ll be back later. Meeting Josh.
She dressed fast and staggered to her car to head to the pub.
As she drove, her mind’s eye became more awake. Why would Josh want to meet at the pub this early in the morning? The place didn’t open until ten. She shook her head. They would talk in the parking lot.
Kris pulled her car into the lot, and there sat Josh on the hood of his car. He appeared thin, tired and overworked. While she parked next to his car, she rolled down her window.
“It’s been a while, Josh. How have you been?” She glanced in the rearview, checking her surroundings, then back at him.
“I’ve been busting my ass at work. How have you been?”
“I’ve been okay. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something I recently discovered.”
“Shoot.”
“A friend helped me learn the truth behind my family history. I’m related to a man a lot of people are looking for.”
“Who is it?”
“Stanley Adams. Heard of him?”
“No. I’m sure I could help you locate him, though. I have a computer program at home. Do you want to follow me and take a look?”
“Sure.” It would be wonderful to put the issue in the past.
“Okay, follow me.” He slipped off his car and got inside.
She followed him for fifteen minutes until they pulled into his drive. She’d never been to his house. The place was a dainty little white house, maybe a two bedroom, one and a half bath. She couldn’t be sure until she was inside. He waved at her and she got out, following his lead.
Inside, the living room was dark. The early rising sun cast a blue haze through the navy colored curtains. She wouldn’t be able to see her hand wave in front of her face even if she tried. A woodsy smell permeated the air. Where had she smelled the scent before?
“Give me a second to find the lamp.” Josh’s low voice came from behind her.
She waited—she didn’t wa
nt to trip over anything. Rustling came from her side then something wacked her in the head. She yelled as light sparked behind her lids. Tiny stars speckled and danced then dissolved into darkness as she passed out.
33
The excruciating pain was overwhelming each time Kris moved. Nauseous, she lifted her arms but failed. As she tried again, a steely grip held her wrists. A sob came from her right. She flung her eyes open to earth and vines overhead. It was dark, moist and the air smelled of pure penetrated charcoal, stinging her nose.
“Hello?” someone rumbled in a parched-sounding voice near her.
She turned to see who spoke. Few torches were lit, but there was enough light to show a woman lying near on a rock slab, chained just as she was.
“What’s your name?”
“Rita.” A thin trail of tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
Gods, the very person she was looking for. “Where are we? Who brought me here?” Kris’s thoughts shifted. Josh was the last person she’d seen. Had he done this? Her teeth ground together.
“We are with them,” Rita whispered, her voice quavering.
Deep inside Kris, her stomach coiled into a tight knot. She had a feeling she know who “them” were. “How long have I been here?”
“Three days.” Rita cried harder, snorting as she tried to conceal the emotion.
Three days? Ryant must be frantic. For the first time, Kris was grateful for the second gift he’d cast upon her. She never would have wanted the gift if he had not bestowed it on her by accident. Now she saw the reason for it. Hope rose inside, flaring deep—until she tried to reach out to his mind but found only silence.
Shit. She yanked, but couldn’t move from the slab. Her legs were spread, and her waist was chained to the hard surface. “Who brought you here?”
“I don’t know,” Rita moaned.
“Who were you with last?”
“My boyfriend, Stanley.”
Kris raised her head to inspect the room. A circular pool of murky water occupied the distance between them and the table. There were two doors in front of her, a table with shiny, pointy objects glimmering with reflected fire. Three empty mason jars were centered on it. Several were filled with plant roots of some kind. The empty jars scared her the most. With no idea what they were for, she swallowed around a thick tongue.
“I will get us out of here, Rita,” she reassured the other woman as best as she could. “I promise.”
Rita sucked in a stuttering, ragged breath. “It’s no use. I’ve tried. They are very strong.”
Fuck. Okay, she had to think. Kris lay there. She had to try to get Ryant through her mind. Ryant, come on lover, can you hear me? You gave this gift to me, now use it to find me.
As she waited for a response, she searched the room again. On the far corner lay an effigy. She swallowed and glanced past the table. Two animal carcasses lay near the doors, like they had been freshly killed. Her breath picked up. This had to be a ritual room. Around the room sat some kind of plant that dispensed the low fog.
Ryant? Nothing. Her mind was quiet. Ghastly quiet. More than anything, this scared the shit out of her. Swishing from across the way broke her descent into terror. A hooded figure walked into the room, then stopped.
Kris shrank back against the slab as the hooded person—thing—from her dreams neared. “What do you want?” she spat.
The figure didn’t move or speak. Rita sucked in a ragged breath, crying harder.
Kris clenched her teeth, “I said, what do you want?”
Long arms rose from the cloak and pushed back the hood. The face she knew so well, one of the few she’d trusted, came into sight, and Josh smiled smugly at her. “I came to check on you. To see how you were faring.” He looked around the room. “It’s not the Hilton, but it works, right?”
Shock took her breath away briefly then she snarled. “You son of a bitch. I trusted you.”
He shook his head and pointed at her. “No, I trusted you.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I trusted you to stay home the night your parents were killed. But you were out with Ryant.” Josh balled his hands into fists. “You should have been dead a long time ago. I’m glad I found you here in Louisiana. It’s time to end the world. Your world.”
She swallowed, unable to speak. He moved nearer and rested a hand on her ankle, squeezing. Under her confinement, she squirmed. He stared at her with something that looked like desire but was much deeper and darker. Power. Power projected into her eyes.
“Get your hand off me.”
His hand slid to her knee. As he watched his movements, Josh licked his lips. Skinny fingers glided over her thigh, and she bucked, arching her back to move away from him. Didn’t work on damn bit.
“You see, this is what we are after.” He cupped her mound between her legs then stroked a burning path to her belly. “There is something inside you we need to complete the transformation. Deep inside is the essence that will make our true leader rise again.”
What the hell did that mean? “Get away from me.”
Ignoring her, he continued, “In due time our leader will be here, and when he arrives, we will take what we need from you.” He smiled pleasantly as he massaged her belly. “It’s not sex, Kristina. It’s the blood from your womb. But to make it easier for you, I could change my appearance, become the person you desire. Like Ryant.” His face changed, molding into Ryant’s.
Panic shot through her, pricking her nerve endings.
“Is this the person who you would prefer to take the blood from you? Someone you thought you never could trust, but now do.” His voice sounded like Ryant’s too.
“You sick bastard.” His hand left her, and she blew out a breath as he walked to Rita. “Stay away from her,” she shouted.
He looked over his shoulder at Kris as his mask disappeared, and his face went back to the normal Josh. “Or would you want me to greet both of you in the way I’ve greeted you in your dreams?”
“My dreams?”
He turned into the Reaper. Her eyes widened. Rita cried as he laid a hand flat on her belly, stroking soothingly with his bony fingertips.
“Shh.” He smiled at Rita. “Your death will be quick. You are the sacrifice.”
“You motherfucker. If you hurt her, I will kill you.”
He laughed. “You’re funny, Kris. Not even your lover can save you now.”
34
Ryant paced with frantic steps. “Where is she?”
He’d wrung his hands until they were sore. The only shred of evidence was a note stating she’d planned to meet with Josh. Ryant had located Josh’s house but no one was there. Fearing for her life, he broke in and searched the place. When he found notes on Kris and photos, he realized the human she’d called friend had stalked her for decades. There were also more papers on Stanley, but Ryant didn’t understand the connection.
Sparky burst through the bedroom door holding a file. “I have something for you.”
“What is it?” Ryant swept to his side in a flash, taking the file. He flipped through the paper and pictures, glancing over everything with a carful measure. One paper showed at one point in time, Stanley had resided at Kris’s hell house. The pictures showed video surveillance from across the street at Joe’s Bar. Ryant zeroed in on the pictures. Stanley was with Josh. Josh had a hand in on the deal. Now Ryant knew where they needed to go—to hell house.
He kept thinking about Kris. Tried to call through his mind and couldn’t reach her. Something about the house must interfere with their link. He lowered the folder. “Gather the Truces.”
Sparky left and moments later, V and Darin came into the room. He had asked Darin what the fuck was wrong with him, but received no answer. It seemed Darin didn’t know either. Ryant stared at him, determining if he should stay here at the club or go on the mission. He had no clue if Darin could handle what lay ahead. Hell, he didn’t know if he could. But he would.
“I think you
should stay, Darin.”
“Wait a minute, Ryant.” V frowned. “He loves Kris as much as you do. He will go with us. His blood is fresh, strong. Darin can handle himself. I’ve been working with him over the past few days.”
Darin stepped forward. “Like she said, I’m going. Kris is as important to me as she is to you.”
V caressed his arm.
“So be it.”
* * * *
In no time, Ryant, V, Darin and the Truces stood at the iron gates of hell house. Ryant entered first and immediately, a raw evil scratched at him. The malevolence sliced his skin but he ignored the attack. Nothing would stop him from getting to Kris.
He turned to Sparky and waved to head to the house. Low candlelight flickered in the bottom windows. Usually a welcome sign, now the glow seemed to have a hungry look. The light was only in the first floor; the top story remained dark. Something moved in one of the windows but when he looked, it was just a ragged curtain fluttering in the breeze.
Two at a time, he took the stairs and busted the door down. Wood splintered, falling in jagged pieces around him. The house reeked of death and the decay of rotting flesh. The air pressed in on him as if it tried to enter him and take over his body.
Movement caught his attention and an old woman appeared in front of him. She cackled and lifted her hands, shooting static from her palms at his chest. The shock sent him backward a couple feet. He managed to stop himself before he was pushed onto the porch. Electrical currents rushed through his veins, making nerve endings tingle.
Sparky flexed fingers, throwing a fireball of electrical current at the old woman. She moved in a flash to the drawing room. This gave Ryant time to follow. As he grabbed hold of the woman, he turned and shoved her toward the scarecrow on the couch.
After she struck the thing, she gurgled. The shirt she wore stuck out at an odd point. Crimson stained the end of a spike like a splattered star. Her eyes and mouth were open wide. She smiled with blood smearing her gums and coughed blood that dribbled down her front. The woman’s eyes glazed over and her head fell to the side.
Poised for anything, he waited to see if she was faking. When he realized she was truly dead, he yelled, “Search the house.”