“Open the door.” His mouth was at the crack in the open window.
Stifling a scream, she fumbled with the keys and turned them in the ignition. A harsh sound grated the air. The car was already on. She grabbed at what she thought was the stick shift, but it was the emergency brake and nothing happened.
“Mackenzie, I’m not going to hurt you. Open the damn door. There are others coming and I can’t take them all down myself.” He rattled the handle and she flew back to her seat, away from the sound of his voice. She grabbed at the passenger door handle, which lifted easily without opening. Locked. A movement outside the window caught her eye. A figure emerged from the Jeep. Blood pounded in her temples. She was trapped.
A weapon. She needed a weapon. She patted her waistband. Nothing. It must’ve fallen out in the slide.
Oh God, oh God.
“I’m sorry.” Dom’s voice was low from the driver’s window and her head snapped to the left. He stood on the other side of the glass with his dark brows pinched together in an unfathomable expression of worry, the ice blue eyes pleading with hers. He looked almost normal except…
A swirling gray cloud enveloped him and he was gone. She whipped her head around. Where was he? What had happened?
A thick fog spilled in through the crack of the window, cascading into the car like a waterfall. Her screams echoed in her ears and she clawed at the door to get out.
The man from the Jeep was at her window, teeth bared, blood dripping from his temple. With nowhere else to go, she scrunched down into the foot well and covered her head with the collar of her jacket, wishing she could snap her fingers and be gone.
With a jolt, her head bumped the underneath side of the dashboard as the car lurched backwards. Knees and elbows banged against hard surfaces as she was buffeted about like a rag doll.
“Get up.” A hand grasped the scruff of her collar and wrenched her up.
As Dom cranked the steering wheel hard to the right onto the roadway, she fell on the center console, almost into his lap. He punched it and the car shot forward. She flew back with what seemed like the G-force of a jet fighter.
“Seat belt. Now.”
What did he just say? Her mind was numb as she tried to translate the words into something she understood. Seat belt? She pawed at the side of the bucket seat where the strap originated but her hands fumbled getting the thing over her shoulder. Without taking his eyes from the road, Dom reached across her chest, pulled the belt over her lap and snapped it into place.
The dull throbbing pain in her upper arm pulsed over and over with every bump and turn. Warmth dripped down the inside of her sleeve and she tried stanching the flow with her good hand. Don’t look. It only makes it worse. She leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, closed her eyes and wished she could sleep, make everything go away. Another jolt knocked her hand free. It was covered in blood.
“Here. Use this.” Dom waved a handkerchief. His knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel and his hair billowed in the wind from his rolled-down window.
Her mind barely registered the car rounding another sharp corner but the pain in her arm had sharpened even more. Dom grimaced as he looked in the rearview mirror. He didn’t act like one of those monsters, but she knew what she saw.
So when Dom’s darkened gaze met hers, the blue of his irises completely gone, she remembered the monsters in the Jeep and everything went dark.
DOM LOOKED IN his rearview mirror. The freak was still on their tail. Must be a fortified engine in that rig. He should’ve been able to put more distance between them by now. If he couldn’t outrun them, he wouldn’t be able to head to the loft. He’d have to think of some other way.
The Porsche practically flew over the bridge, catching air a few times, and he banked it sharply to the left into the SoDo district. The sound of his suitcase thumping against the side reminded him he wasn’t catching that flight to San Diego tonight after all.
Punching it, he saw he had put some distance between them. With the Jeep’s high center of gravity, it wasn’t able to make the turn as tightly as the Porsche had. The key to outrunning it would be in the cornering, not the straightaways.
Dom turned up and down various roads heading into downtown. The Jeep still followed and even though it fell farther behind, he didn’t dare take a chance and head to the loft. They weren’t that far ahead.
As he cranked the vehicle under the Alaskan Way Viaduct, he heard the horn of the ferry up ahead, signaling its departure.
If only…
He slammed on his brakes and veered into the holding area, flashing his pass at the ticket booth. The last vehicle had been loaded, the tie ropes cast off, and a ferry worker reached for the neon orange netting to secure the car deck.
Laying on his horn, he sped down the loading chute. The worker jumped out of the way as the Porsche caught air and flew onboard, skidding to a stop behind a delivery van.
Thank God the terminal was quiet this late at night. Doing a mass mind scrub wasn’t an easy task for one.
“What the hell. Are you crazy? You can’t do that.” The ferry worker ran toward them, grabbing his walkie-talkie from its shoulder holster. Dom jumped out of the car and flashed him his identification.
“You still can’t…”
Dom brushed a hand across the man’s temples.
“We paid at the gate and were the last car on the ferry before you attached the netting and pulled away from the dock.”
The man blinked a few times and said, “You staying on the island or heading to the peninsula?”
“Not sure yet,” Dom said and watched the Jeep screech to a stop on the dock as the ferry churned through the water away from the city.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“STAY HERE.” A door slammed shut. Mackenzie turned her head slowly, as if she were in a dream, and blinked a few times, but all she saw was the empty driver’s seat.
Where was she? Who was that? Her eyes couldn’t seem to focus as she looked out the window, the muscles in her neck ached, and her arm throbbed. A narrow steel tunnel? She heard the deep low blast of a marine horn and felt a shuddering movement beneath her. She was on a ferry. As the sound faded in her ears, its familiarity contrasted with something she’d heard not long ago. What was it? An unearthly sound. Laughing—oh God, awful, hideous laughing. And the horror of the night imploded on her.
With every last ounce of energy she possessed, she wrenched open the car door and clambered onto the deck. An icy blast of wind whipped her hair around, roaring in her ears, and her knees collapsed to the pavement.
Run, her mind told her. Run.
Before she could move, strong arms lifted her from the ground and pinned her tightly to a warm chest. The scent of sandalwood filled her nostrils and a tidal wave of relief washed over her, dissolving her fear.
“They’re gone. You’re safe with me. I promise.” The reassuring rumble of Dom’s voice vibrated against her cheek.
Wait. His teeth, his eyes, the strange fog. She should push away from him, but as he stroked her hair, every muscle in her body relaxed. She didn’t want to move away from him.
“I wish you hadn’t seen what happened back there.”
Was this really happening? It didn’t make sense. Not the comfort she felt with his arms around her, the way her body automatically melted into his, or the soothing effect his voice had on her heart. Images of the night flashed in her head, but she blinked them away. Why wasn’t she scared out of her mind given what she’d seen? Why did his embrace feel perfect, so right? She had a million questions for him, but for now, at this exact moment, all she wanted was for him to hold her.
His arms loosened their grip and for a moment she thought he was going to release her, but he didn’t. The harsh overhead lights of the car deck cast angular shadows on his face, but they couldn’t mask the concern and worry in his expression. She smiled up at him as if it were the most natural reaction to want to ease the tension she felt in him.
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Her good arm slipped inside his hip-length wool peacoat and wrapped around his waist before she knew what she was doing. Like her body was on autopilot or something. He opened his lapels farther and pulled her inside against him. The smell of him calmed her senses as her cheek pressed against the muscular planes of his chest beneath his tight T-shirt. A tiny moan escaped her lips. Oh God, he felt good and she knew she was safe.
The loud drone of the engines made talking impossible. But that was okay. She didn’t want to think right now, anyway. He held her for what seemed like hours. Then in one movement, he swept her feet from the ground and set her back inside the Porsche.
“Your arm. Let me take a look at it.” His nostrils flared slightly and his mouth pressed into a hard line of concentration. She examined the chiseled lines of the face she hadn’t seen in a week—his strong jaw with its slight stubble, the chaotic state of his hair as it hung in pieces over the forehead currently creased in a troubled frown. It was a week that had felt like a lifetime.
“What happened back there, Dom?”
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his expression was hard, like he had a job to do. “Your injury. Let me attend to it first.”
She slipped her arm from the sleeve as carefully as she could, but she clenched her teeth together when sharp, searing pain shot from the wound. He scowled but his hands were gentle.
“Is it bad?”
“I’ve seen worse.” Curiously, his pupils expanded, leaving only a ring of the blue iris.
“Why do they do that? Your eyes?”
His jaw muscle tensed, but he didn’t answer.
The pulse on the sensitive skin of her arm beat against his caressing fingers and when she saw a similar spot flicker on his neck, for some reason she wondered if they matched. He didn’t seem startled when she rubbed her thumb over his pulse; in fact, he leaned almost imperceptibly into her hand. He licked the pad of his thumb then, ran it over her wound. Instantly an effervescent sensation, like the crackling of tiny pop rocks, tickled her skin.
“There. Good as new.” Before she could say anything more, he stood and shut the door.
She could hear him talking on the phone as he walked to the driver’s side. What the hell had just happened? She looked at her upper arm. Rather than a gaping gash, only a thin pink line remained. And even that seemed to be fading. Just like when she’d cut her finger at his loft.
The car shifted slightly when he climbed in.
“What’s going on, Dom? What is all this?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m listening.”
He stared straight ahead.
“What if they come back? They probably have my wallet and ID. Don’t I need to know if I’m in danger or not? And my arm…” She rubbed it but felt no pain. “How is any of this possible?”
“My associates are taking your motorcycle home and will make sure your belongings are secure. As for the others, I’m taking you to a safe place then I’m going back to hunt them down myself.”
“Yourself?” Her stomach tightened with panic. “What about the police? Shouldn’t we call them or did you do that already?”
“The police can’t handle them.”
“And what are you going to do? Maybe you got lucky back there. Please, Dom, don’t. I don’t want you to go—to get hurt.” Her voice caught in her throat. Although she couldn’t deny what she saw, Dom was different—much different.
“I’ll take care of him like I took care of his partner.” His tone was calm, as if he’d done this sort of thing many times before.
The ferry engines quieted for a moment, then groaned loudly in reverse as the vessel glided toward the dock. Ignitions fired up as people prepared to drive off and soon the line of cars next to them began to move.
What if she jumped out of the car? Walked away and went back to her ordinary life, pretended the events of the night were all part of a strange dream? Would tomorrow be normal? Would her students ask her the normal questions in class?
“Don’t even think about it, Mackenzie,” he growled as he turned the key and the engine roared to life with a little more gas than she thought was necessary.
“How do you know what I’m—” She gave a sound of exasperation. “Listen. You didn’t need to say that. I’m not going anywhere. I was just reviewing my options. But you’d better be ready to start explaining or I will leave. So you think about that.”
HE MANEUVERED THE Porsche slowly onto the ramp so it wouldn’t bottom out.
As they drove off the ferry, he waved a quick thanks to the dock worker, a nun dressed in a knee-high black skirt, white athletic socks, tennis shoes and an orange reflective vest. She smiled and waved back. The Sisters managed the ferry docks on this side and seeing them here always reminded him that good existed in this world in some very unexpected places.
“You won’t like what you hear. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
“I’ve lived under a cloud of uncertainty long enough and I’m tired of it. I know that—” she pointed a thumb over her shoulder in the direction they came from “—is the answer.”
He ran a hand over his face. Of course, she was right. He was just delaying the inevitable. She deserved to know, even if he had to wipe it from her memory later. “All right. I can’t shield you from the truth, Mackenzie, no matter how much I’d like to. You have seen too much.” Taking a deep breath, he jumped in.
“There are things in this world that have only been rumored, whispered about late at night, stories meant to scare the young and titillate the old. Most of those old stories are made up and passed down through generations. Werewolves, alien abductions, the Loch Ness monster, unicorns. But some of them have a basis in reality. They weren’t just invented from nothing. They started somewhere. And that somewhere is the reality I’m talking about.”
She looked calm enough and he didn’t sense any spike of distress. Her eyes met his and she gave him a pursed-lipped smile, not quite bold, but definitely not weak or scared.
“You saw the fangs, the bloodlust, the resistance to bullets, and you saw what I did to that guy. And I can’t forget that you saw me vapor into the car.” Yeah, that surprised the hell out of him, too. All right. It’s now or never.
“Mackenzie, we are vampires. Different maybe from what you think one is, but that’s essentially what we are.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead and waited for her reaction. She stayed silent and clutched her arms tighter.
“Are…are you okay?”
Without lifting her head, she nodded, so he continued.
“Many of the myths surrounding us are not true. We’re not immortal. We do die, but our lifespan is much longer than a human’s. Garlic, crosses, holy water—all myths, although our bodies are highly allergic to silver and we are sensitive to ultraviolet light. We still occasionally drink human blood, but we don’t kill. At least most of us don’t. I oversee a small team of Guardians here in Seattle. Enforcement agents within the Agency, the legal arm of our Governing Council.”
He explained about the Darkbloods and Sangre Dulce. He wanted her to know everything, but why? Why not just give her the bare facts with no details when he was going to wipe her memory anyway? He thought he knew the answer, but didn’t dare think further about it.
He wanted to dip into her thoughts, to know how she was processing it all, but he gave her the privacy she deserved. She needed to come to her own conclusions without his interference. The headlights formed a tunnel through the dark trees flanking the road and they drove in silence for a while.
“Is this blood condition, this Sangre Dulce, hereditary?” Her voice was barely audible above the road noise.
“We’re not sure, but we suspect it is.”
He sensed the tears well up in her eyes before they spilled down her cheeks. And when she turned away from him, a part of him withered. He desperately wanted to comfort her, to pull the car off the road and drag her in his arms, to tell
her how much he cared about her and that he would never hurt her. But he and other vampires were the cause of all her grief. The only comfort he could offer her, until he did a memory wipe, was verbal and he didn’t know where to begin.
“Mackenzie, I’m so sorry.”
“My father,” she choked. “My uncle, my great-grandmother, my cousin—countless relatives tracing back centuries. All of them gone without a trace. And you…your people were responsible.”
Her shoulders rounded with sobs and with each gasp a piece of his heart chipped off. Mile markers on the side of the road ticked by as her face stayed pressed against her knees, long hair cascading everywhere. Nothing he could say or do could remove the agony he felt rolling off her body. Several times, he reached over to touch her, to offer some sort of comfort, but each time he caught himself and pulled his hand back. His touch would be the last thing she’d want.
Then, almost imperceptibly, she began rocking. He could feel her agony as if it were his own. Without really meaning to do so, he laid his hand on her back and began rubbing gentle circles with the palm of his hand, wishing he could absorb her sadness and take it on himself.
Abruptly she sat up and her tear-soaked gaze raked over his face. Was she examining him as a monster? When she reached over, he half-expected her to lash out at him, to take out a lifetime of suffering, but instead she rested her hand lightly on the forearm of his coat.
“It’s all so unbelievable, and yet…”
She slid her palm over the top of his hand, intertwined her fingers with his, and his heart jumped into his throat. Could she possibly be accepting the reality of all this? The tiny ray of hope he’d felt earlier sprang back to life again.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Thank you for saving me from them and for telling me the truth.”
She was thanking him?
“Can you tell me about your group? The Agency? Is this the secret government agency you talked about? The one you’d have to kill me over if you told me about it?” Her eyes were red and swollen, but she smiled at him through her tears. She had never looked more beautiful.
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