by Nikki Kelly
I met Cameron’s crestfallen expression with an apologetic one. He may have loved Molly, and maybe Molly had loved him once, but seemingly she had moved on.
A twitch on the ground drew my attention, and I anticipated the Vampire’s action a second before he sprang to his feet. Cameron, however, was staring after his Molly, totally unaware that this demon’s claws were only inches from his throat. My light pulsed, bouncing between my fingers, and I concentrated, joining the bolts together. I commanded the white light to stretch out in a single, deadly sheet, but then the flutter of Jonah’s heartbeat resounded inside me, distracting me. I zoned in on the origin of the sound, finding him up ahead, slumped against a stone wall.
I should have been able to sense where he was long before now.
I choked like an old, useless car as I tried to pull back the throttle. Jonah was in the line of fire. He was too close. I couldn’t guarantee my sheet of light wouldn’t hit him, and if it did, he would be ended along with the Vampire at Cameron’s back. It took all my concentration, but as the white flickered into a blue hue, I managed to break the sheet apart, creating small halos that ran up and down my fingers instead.
But as I expelled the rings, I was knocked clean off my feet, tackled to the ground by Gabriel. Another Vampire had swooped to attack me, but as he came from my left I hadn’t seen the demon in my peripheral vision, but Gabriel had. My halos missed their intended target, striking the concrete instead. One second was all the Vampire behind Cameron needed to grab him, and I was two seconds too long willing a further bout of light to stop the demon from stealing him away.
A whoosh of wind lifted the leaves beside me as the Vampire Gabriel had just knocked away swung back toward us. I thrust Gabriel off me, and he landed on his back as I catapulted myself into the air. On course to meet the Vampire, I recognized the scar slicing down his cheek. This was the same Vampire Ruadhan had fended off. Lean and muscular, he was not like the others. He was able and clever. Meticulous in his execution, at the last moment the Vampire changed course, diving toward Gabriel’s chest instead of meeting me in the air.
The Vampire didn’t want me. He wanted Gabriel.
“No!” I shouted. Twisting midflight, I swiped my hand out, just able to grab the tail of the Vampire’s jacket. Now that Gabriel was a fallen Angel, the best thing he could do was get the hell out of the way, but gifts or no gifts, Gabriel wouldn’t let me fight his battles.
Clutching the Vampire’s jacket, I flung him backward, and below me Gabriel called out to William.
The young lad must have thrown Gabriel a weapon, because just as the Vampire’s ascent brought him to my eye level, my superior strength stalled. A silver arrowhead shot past me, missing the Vampire’s chest but striking him through the cheek. The demon slapped his gloved hand to his jaw, a heinous cry escaping him, and in the moment it took me to regain my focus he had disappeared.
An acrid scent permeated the chilled air as the last of the gunfire sounded. The Vampires fled, heading in the direction Jonah and I had come from this morning.
On his back, Gabriel clutched a speargun in his right hand. I pulled him up by his left, shaking my head.
While the men behind me collected themselves, I zoomed using the power of thought to Jonah, who was struggling to stand.
“You’re hurt,” I said, forcing his hand away from his neck.
“I’m fine,” he snapped, using the stone wall to steady himself.
“Silver?” As soon as I asked it, I knew it wasn’t, but then I didn’t understand. An injury caused by anything but silver shouldn’t sit on a Vampire’s skin for more than a moment. The skin on Jonah’s neck had been split, and it hadn’t healed yet. That wasn’t right.
“I’m fine,” he growled. Somehow, someone had gotten the better of him, and Jonah didn’t like that one bit. Running his gaze over me hurriedly, he said, “Are you okay?”
I furrowed my brow. Jonah should know without having to ask. We were connected by blood, which caused physical sensations as well as elevated emotion to pass between us.
Phelan’s deep voice came from behind me. “You shouldn’t have left the circle.”
I turned to face him, but as I opened my mouth to reply, my gaze fell to Cameron’s crossbow, which lay strewn on the ground, broken in two. I knelt down, collecting the wooden pieces and snapped string. Splatters of the little red-haired warrior’s wet blood freckled over the tiller, the fragrance as sweet as he was.
“Cameron—” I uttered his name in a whisper. “Which way did the Vampire take him?” I demanded, facing Phelan.
Phelan pinched the bridge of his nose, but then shook his head slowly. “The demon killed him, Lailah. I saw it myself.”
Rusty dark-brown liquid pooled under my feet. Mixed together, it was impossible to tell how much was Cameron’s blood and how much had been the Vampire’s.
I didn’t have to search far to find Ruadhan, and his hand stretched behind my back comfortingly. “Cameron was a light soul,” I said, knowing Ruadhan would understand. The Purebloods fed from humans with dark souls and turned people with light souls into Second Generation Vampires. The demon at Cameron’s back wouldn’t have wanted to feed from him, but as I looked to Molly cowering at William’s back, there was no luminous glow framing her body. It had been her whom the Vampire had wanted to make a meal of.
“Aye, love. He didn’t drink from the lad, but Cameron had shot him—” Ruadhan didn’t finish his sentence and I knew what he was implying. The Vampire might not have wanted to drink from Cameron, but it had wanted him to pay for the silver arrow Cameron had struck him with.
“We can’t be sure—”
Phelan cut me off. “Like I said, I saw it myself.”
My mind whizzed, ready to argue, but then Jonah spitting up blood took my attention. His eyes met mine. He needed my help, and I didn’t think he could wait.
“You did all you could do, love,” Ruadhan said as I stepped away. Still clutching Cameron’s broken bow, I walked toward Jonah.
Done all I could do, indeed. Cameron’s death was my fault. I had judged the situation—no, I had judged Molly—wrongly, and my stupid advice had caused Cameron to fight for someone undeserving. I narrowed my eyes at Molly, but before she reacted, Gabriel grabbed my arm, blocking my view of her and my path to Jonah at the same time. My upset was replaced with anger.
It might have been my fault that Cameron had gone after Molly, it might even have been my fault that he had tried to show her that he loved her by defending her, but it sure as hell was Gabriel’s fault that my halos of light had missed.
“His blood is on your hands, too, Gabriel.” My tone was callous, and before I could go any further, Phelan interrupted.
“We should get inside.” He began instructing his men to form a protective shield around me, but I didn’t move; I was too angry and too upset to hold my tongue.
To Gabriel I said, “You shouldn’t have jumped on me. I missed my shot because of you.”
“I didn’t have a lot of choice. You didn’t see the Vampire,” Gabriel started, his voice soft.
I shrugged off his comment, unprepared to confirm what he suspected—that I was blind in my left eye, that I hadn’t seen the Vampire coming, that I was weak.
Phelan interjected a second time. “Lailah, we’ve just lost Cameron. I can’t stand here and risk losing any more of my men.”
Though he tried to disguise it, there was a quiver in Phelan’s voice when he said Cameron’s name, and I relented. “Fine.”
Ruadhan and Phelan collected Iona and Molly, hurrying them ahead of us.
As we marched forward, to Gabriel I said, “Clearly you’ve been making friends while I’ve been gone. That Vampire wanted you, not me. He lured you out from the protection of the circle by coming at me, knowing you’d be stupid enough to take the bait because you got a case of the heroics trying to defend me before! He was cool and calculated and he wanted your blood—” I stopped myself as nausea swelled in the pit of my s
tomach. I looked over to Jonah, who was steadying himself against the wall. “I don’t have time for this, I don’t have time for you.”
Gabriel’s tone was as angry as it was sad. “There was a point when you had all the time in the world for me, Lailah. When I was everything you needed. I don’t understand. What happened to us?” His voice lowered. “What happened to you?”
I hesitated, rocking on the back of my heels. To be fair to Gabriel, only I could remember the conversation we’d shared, the one in which I had said that I no longer wanted to be with him, before I’d turned back the clock and saved Jonah. But it was not one that I desired to rehash. It had cut deep the first time, and I suspected with the way I felt now, the wound would prove fatal if I tried to have it again. “I changed. I had to change, to save you, to save him.” I waved my hand in Jonah’s direction. “To be able to save everyone.”
“Everyone but yourself,” Gabriel replied.
“In the end, yes.” We neared the gate of the main house. “Go in,” I said, calling the soldiers around us to break formation and filter inside. Ahead, Phelan was ushering Iona and Molly through the front door; this time he didn’t argue with me.
As the last of the men marched by, I turned to leave, but Gabriel blocked me.
“You’d leave me here with nothing, wouldn’t you? What did I do to make you hate me?” he said.
Gabriel had murdered Hanora, had tried to murder Jonah. He had always been prepared to sacrifice anyone and everyone in my name. And here we were, the first day reunited after three years apart, and he was still doing it, only this time the forfeit for my life was Cameron’s. I was so angry, but the pained rasp in his voice caused me to remember what we had once meant to each other—how he had saved me, how he had led me to the answer I had sought for so long, the answer to what I was.
His ends did not justify his means. Yet I knew he only did what he did out of love. I couldn’t agree with his choices, but then, I knew all too well what love could make one do. I’d just proved it, saving Jonah at the cost of another.
“I could never hate you, Gabriel. I love you. I will always love you. And it is because I love you that I let you go. And it’s because you love me that you let me leave. You just don’t remember it happening.”
Gabriel’s confused, faded blue eyes made me sad. “And Jonah?”
I didn’t want to hurt Gabriel, and so I hesitated to answer.
“He loves you,” Gabriel said.
I looked to Jonah, who, in the black of night, was waiting for me, and our eyes found each other’s. I thought of the plea he made underneath the old oak tree as I took what I thought to be my last breaths. He had asked me not to leave him in the darkness all alone.
I hadn’t realized what Gabriel had said was meant as a statement, not a question, and so I answered, “I don’t know.”
Gabriel’s brow dipped and his bottom lip hung open ready to reply, but I shook my head. “Good night, Gabriel. Jonah needs me.”
I left him standing in the street alone. We were no longer connected by light and so I didn’t hear Gabriel trying to speak to my mind as he said, “So do I.”
TEN
WITH HIS ARM DRAPED across my shoulders, I bore Jonah’s weight and helped him through the door of Little Blue.
“Here,” I said, easing him down on the sofa. Though I was sure that once Phelan had collected himself, he would instruct his best men to stand guard, I locked the door and fastened the shutters.
Jonah slipped his arms out of his dark coat and pressed his hands down on his neck. Rich, red blood seeped through his fingers, and cinnamon infused the air.
Automatically, my fangs cracked. I bit my lower lip, struggling to rise above my body’s reaction. I continued on, helping him pull his T-shirt over his head, and grabbed a towel that I folded and used as a compress against the wound in his neck.
But my purest instincts betrayed me again. Even as Jonah sat, bleeding when he shouldn’t be, the sight of his toned torso made my blood warm. I swallowed hard and pressed the cloth harder against his skin.
It took me a minute to find my voice, and all the while I could feel Jonah silently staring at me. Finally, I met his eyes and said, “How did this happen?”
Jonah shrugged, but the movement caused him pain, and he hissed as he sucked in air.
I lifted the towel, expecting the wound to have at least decreased in size, but it was just as bad.
Jonah wasn’t healing. The why plagued my thoughts and left fear in my gut, but at least I knew that I alone would be able to help.
I kicked off my boots and leaned into Jonah, who gently shook his head. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to. And there’s no reason not to,” I said.
I kneeled next to him on the sofa and assessed the damage. A lion might as well have mauled him. Four razor streaks tore through his throat, extending as far as the top of his shoulder.
“Are you in much pain?” I asked. For some reason, our connection was no longer enough to tell me what he was truly feeling.
“Stings, that’s all,” he said. But I knew Jonah, and it was causing him more discomfort than he was prepared to admit.
I cupped his cheeks in my hands. “Emery is gone, and with him your link to the Purebloods. Your taking my blood won’t cause them to sense me, and it wouldn’t matter even if it did. Zherneboh will know I am alive by now, because so, too, is his world.”
Jonah held my wrists and squeezed. “I might find it hard to—”
“But you will.”
His fears were understood—I knew them firsthand. When I had drunk from Jonah under the old oak tree, he’d become a stranger. My hunger took complete hold of me. But then I had heard his heartbeat, and it had led me home. My love for him outweighed my dark desires. It was an impossible struggle, and at the time, it had caused me to wonder how he had managed to withdraw on the occasions he had taken my blood. But then I later learned that both times a spark had ignited, shocking Jonah when he came too close to draining away my dark energy, preventing him from drinking me to an end. My built-in security system had served me well, but my safety came at a cost. Because of it, I would never know if the thief at my door would have been kind enough to leave his heart in place of my own.
Peeling back Jonah’s heavy fingers, I brought my wrist to my lips. Gently, I kneaded my skin and then hooked my fangs into a thick blue vein.
I held out my offering, and Jonah took me by my waist into his lap. Squeezing my arm tightly, he hesitated, but then his mouth met my skin. He inhaled sharply and the tip of his tongue glided over the laceration, gently mopping up the taste of me. His dark, luscious eyelashes batted frantically, framing the bloodied explosion that was racing around his pupils. I dared him to take me with a low, encouraging growl.
Sharing blood was more than an exercise in necessity; it was the only way to truly fill the emptiness inside, to briefly breathe life down death’s dark hallways.
That night under the old oak tree, Jonah hadn’t thought twice about offering himself to me, and so today, I returned the favor in kind. I was happy to share a part of myself with him. At least then, when all this was over and I was gone, he would be left with something. It wouldn’t give him the forever he wanted, but it was the best I could do.
Jonah’s fangs scratched my skin, and though this was for him, I couldn’t help taking my own enjoyment.
Jonah may have had a taste, but before he began to drink he stopped.
He lifted me off his lap and placed me beside him. My senses told me why. The last of his cinnamon scent evaporated as his skin stitched until it was smooth once more. Thankful as I was that his body had healed, my chest fell with disappointment at our connection being broken.
I stalled before standing. “Well, looks like you don’t need me after all.”
Jonah winked at me. “I wouldn’t say that.” He rose to his feet, and my eyes lingered on the rippled muscles of his stomach and cut lines around his hips, revealed by his low-slu
ng jeans. My insides stirred.
“If this is about our conversation earlier—” I started, but Jonah raised his finger to my lips and shushed me.
“No more talking.”
His hand found the dip at the bottom of my spine and he pulled me into his bare chest. He was soft at first, his bottom lip catching the top of mine. But as he pressed down, he stifled a low, animalistic groan that made me shiver. I leaned back, but his skilled fingers had already threaded through the back of my short hair and he held me firmly in place. The more he tasted, the more he wanted, and he invaded me more urgently now. His kiss was pure sin; and as our tongues tangled, I wondered what penalty I’d have to pay for it—surely nothing this good could ever be free.
Rising on tiptoes, I stretched to meet his six-foot height; and already dizzy from his carnal assault, I became unsteady on my feet. Jonah yanked me up and onto his boots, drawing me close enough to burrow into that sweet spot in the crevice of my neck. He skimmed his hand down my torso until it collided with the leather belt tied around my waist.
His breath hot and heavy at my collarbone, he parted the lace at my back. So close now, Jonah didn’t smell like Jonah. He wasn’t wearing his usual woody, summertime aftershave, and the way things were going, pretty soon that wouldn’t be the only thing he wasn’t wearing.
He clasped my hands together behind his neck, where beads of his sweat trickled over my fingers. His natural pheromone was musky and alluring, and I quivered deep down low.
He reached for the belt at my midriff and began to unfurl the hard leather. Watching me, he snapped the belt as he whipped it away. Breathless, I watched him back.
His eyes were dark and brooding, and as the leather hit the floor, my knees bowed.
My insides twisted with a wicked want. When Jonah’s lips once again found my neck, I encouraged him by tipping my head back. His tongue rolled over my throat, and his fangs grazed my chin. But as he hooked his fingers underneath my cap sleeves, tugging at the fabric, I became nervous. Unlike Gabriel, Jonah was rough around the edges, but he wore it well, as though he had been deliberately chiseled that way. His expertise was written in his every move. Of course it was. He was intoxicating from the inside out, and I was surely not the first woman in the world to know this. And I began to fear that I would not live up—not so much to those others but to him, to the image that Jonah had created of me.