With that, Lochlan snapped the phone shut, then he crushed it in his hand, tossing the pieces aside nonchalantly as Race snapped at him, “What the fuck, man? That was a four hundred dollar phone!”
“So buy another one. You’ve ten thousand coming as compensation for this mess,” Loch replied smoothly.
I scowled at him. “Do you really think they’re going to pay?”
“Why Juliette, my dear, have you no faith in your favorite vampire?” he asked, a smirk gracing his handsome face. “Trust me, she’ll pay, if only to buy herself some time to plot her revenge.”
He looked Race up and down then. “So, you walked out on Vienna Silk? My, my, you’ve balls of steel for that, lad. She’s not one to be trifled with, and like most any vampire, she takes betrayal very, very personally.”
“If your sire is such a scary bastard himself, what makes you think she won’t just let me go rather than not have to deal with him?”
“Because Vienna hates my father. And now she thinks we’ve stolen you away from her. She’ll not let that go unanswered.”
“Why does she hate him?” I asked.
Lochlan looked at me. “Vienna has despised Diarmid ever since he left her for another woman—a mortal woman. The same woman with whom he conceived a child.”
I felt my eyes go wide and my mouth drop open. “You mean he left her for Saphrona’s mother?” I asked incredulously.
He nodded. “Aye. And even though Clare Percy died in childbirth, she’s hated her all this time too. And Saphrona by association.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Great. Just what we needed: Another crazy bitch vampire pissed off at us.”
Lochlan laughed and reached over to clap Race on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family, mate.”
Eight
After rescuing what we could of Race’s things, which sadly wasn’t much, we cleaned up the mess Merrick had left. The complex manager had come by as we worked to let Race know he had called someone to fix the door, and Race let him know that he’d be contacting his insurance agent about reimbursing the complex for the damages. He also apologized profusely and reiterated that he had no idea who would do this to him, but that he’d sure like to find out. The manager suggested that “The people who broke in was probably teenagers high on drugs, when they shoulda damn well been in school. Kids these days got no discipline.”
Lochlan went out to the Escalade to try and sleep again after the man left us alone, handing me his keys and saying that his biology was finally winning out over his brain. He’d be virtually comatose by the time we got to leave Cleveland, he reminded us, so someone else was going to have to do the driving. I laughed because I knew how he felt about letting anyone else drive that tank of his, though truthfully I was pleased that he trusted me with it. Of course, I’d never driven anything as big as an Escalade before (Mark’s Dodge Ram was smaller, though not by much), so I was also slightly intimidated.
When it was just Race and I in the apartment at last, I stood watching him stare out the window, his arms crossed over his chest. His back was stiff and his muscles taut, and I knew that even now, his anger was simmering just under the surface.
“What am I getting into, Juliette?” he asked suddenly.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Your good buddy told Merrick ‘The boy is ours now.’ Said Vienna will think I’ve been stolen from her.” He whirled on me, jabbing his finger toward my face. “I didn’t walk away from that psycho bitch just to get stuck under some other vampire’s fucking thumb. I’m through with this shit—I don’t belong to anyone!”
Irritation flared. “First of all, you can get your finger out of my face. Second, you can stop yelling because I haven’t done anything to warrant having your anger directed at me. And third, if you had been paying attention at all, you’d have realized that Lochlan was only saying all that to help you. He’s not forcing you to trade one vampire master for another, he’s not like that.”
“And you know this how? You’ve known the guy what, a month?”
“I’ve known you less than a day,” I retorted.
“Juliette, you’ve known me nearly all your life,” Race countered.
I shook my head. “No, I knew you for a few years when I was a kid, and it’s been nearly twenty years since I saw you last. Clearly the Race Covington I knew back then is not the Race Covington standing in front of me right now. That Race was a happy kid who liked hanging out with his best friend and teasing his pal’s little sister. This one is an angry, brutish jerk who can’t even recognize a helping hand when it’s right in front of his face!”
My voice had risen as I spoke, reflecting back at Race the anger he’d shown me. He started, and stared at me for a long moment before asking carefully, “Where the hell is this coming from? All this anger? I mean, I get that I’m pissed about my stuff, but I am not usually so quick to anger. I’m not normally like this, Jules, I swear.”
I sighed and stepped away from him, wanting some distance between us even though I knew what was going on. “I think,” I said slowly, “that our bond, or the magic that created it, is doing this to us. I’m not usually so quick to temper, either.”
“But why is this happening? If I understand your explanation correctly, then it should be drawing us closer together, not driving us apart.”
I laughed without humor. “No offense, lover, but your understanding of shapeshifter magic is limited. Granted, so is mine, but I know a lot more than you do.”
“Then tell me what this is all about, because I don’t like fighting with you,” he said. I looked over at Race and saw that his expression had changed to one of pleading. I knew then that it was time to explain about the bonding ritual, because I had the sneaking suspicion it might be behind the temper flashes.
I sighed. “Obviously I’ve only ever observed shifter-human bondings, but from what I’ve seen, there’s a push-and-pull aspect to the imprinting. While the couple is certainly driven to engage in higher-than-average amounts of sex, those that choose not to complete the bond by skipping the old ritual almost always have volatile relationships. Passionate, to be sure, but volatile.”
Race lifted an eyebrow. “And those that go through with it?”
I looked at him squarely. “In my experience, their relationships are closer, stronger, than those who don’t. Squabbling is rare, and hurt feelings are quickly forgiven. Lovemaking is more intense and pleasurable. But again, those are werekind who’ve imprinted on humans. I think it’s safe to assume that with us everything is intensified, because we’re both two-natured. For all we know, our relationship could implode if we don’t go through with it—and then, of course, there’s the collateral impact on werekind as a whole.”
“You’re talking about the ability to imprint on other shifters? Like Lochlan mentioned might be a part of us bonding?”
Nodding, I sighed again. “I think his friend Marian was right. Because there hasn’t been a single recorded double imprint in over three hundred years, since about the time he says she died—until ours.”
Race ran his hand over his face and then through his hair. “So what does this ritual entail? It’s obviously something you’re reluctant to tell me about, but I think I need to know if we’re to decide whether or not to go through with it.”
“You do need to know. You have a right to know, Race, and like I said before, I’m not keeping it from you on purpose. But this ritual literally binds us together. I won’t be able to live without you, because if you die, you’ll take a piece of my soul with you. If I were to die, you’d soon follow because I’d be taking a piece of your soul with me. It’s one of the reasons mates are held in such high regard, why they’re so fiercely protected and cherished. We will truly need each other to go on living.”
I sighed again and sat on the arm of the ruined couch, which we’d set upright earlier as we cleaned. “The ritual is theorized to be the price our animal halves demand we pay for the magic that runs through us. Ther
e have been some human mates who balk at it, and I can understand why. But they don’t understand what it means to have to answer to the beast.”
“What do we have to do, Juliette?” Race asked softly.
“You would take me from behind, as our wild brethren do, and you would bite my neck hard enough to draw blood. In your mind, you would say an incantation as you drink my blood, as you literally take me into your body. The incantation and blood drinking would bind our minds, our bodies, and our souls together. We would know each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s feelings. We’d be able to find one another anywhere, we’ll experience each other’s pain, we’ll know when the other is in danger.”
“I have to drink your blood like a fucking vampire?!”
“Yeah. Why do you think so many human mates hate the idea? Hell, there are shifters who hate it, because none of us like to admit we have anything in common with them. Except when it comes to shifters, bloodsharing creates more than a simple blood bond. It creates a bond that ties us together for the rest of our lives.”
I picked at a loose thread on the tattered couch. “I have wondered a time or two since meeting Saphrona whether or not vampires realize that bloodsharing makes the bond between mates even stronger. Then again, being connoisseurs of blood drinking, perhaps they do know.”
“You don’t want to do it,” Race said after a moment.
I looked at him. “It’s not so much that I don’t want to, Race,” I said. “It’s that I’m scared to. I certainly don’t think of you as anything like them, but I was raped by two vampires. Just the thought of having someone drink my blood makes me think of them, and it sickens me. And I’m scared of giving someone the power to end my life just by dying himself. I’m scared of having that power over someone else.”
“And to put the icing on the cake, now you have to deal with knowing that if we don’t do this, there’s no telling when another chimaera will be born who can give werekind the chance to find mates among each other.”
I nodded silently, and he dropped onto the other arm of the now-useless piece of furniture on which I was perched. “No pressure, right?” he asked with a mirthless chuckle. The he sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, Jules, I’m not so sure I like any of that shit either. Don’t like the thought of drinking blood because no, I don’t want to have anything in common with the leeches. And I sure as hell can’t stand the idea of you dying just because I did.”
“The magic wants us to complete the bond. The longer we wait, the stronger it will fight to make us. There will be a lot of epic sex, no doubt of that, but if we don’t do the ritual we’re likely to have more episodes like the one we just did, blowing up at each other for no reason.”
“Going through with this will keep us from fighting over nothing?”
“So I’ve heard.”
Further discussion was put on hold when the contractor hired by the apartment manager showed up. Since there was more cleaning to be done, I set about it as Race helped him fix the door and the jamb. When the door frame was finished and the contractor gone, when the apartment was as clean as I could get it, we gathered what little Race had to take with him and walked out, locking the new deadbolt behind us. We didn’t speak to one another as we walked down to ground level, located the Escalade in the parking lot, and headed for it. After stowing Race’s meager belongings in the cargo area with mine, we climbed into the front. I looked over my shoulder at Lochlan, who was fast asleep across the third-row bench seat, and smiled slightly at how peaceful he looked even though one leg and one arm was hanging over the edge. Then I looked at Race and my smile widened. Despite the tension that now existed between us, he was my mate. Just looking into his hazel eyes and seeing him look back at me lightened my heart.
Race grinned as well, and reaching for my hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it. I gave his hand a squeeze and started to pull away, but he held me fast.
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need that hand to drive,” I said lightly.
“I know,” he replied. “I just wanted to hold it a little longer.”
With a sigh he released my hand and I started the car.
***
By my calculations, we were set to arrive at Saphrona’s shortly before nightfall. Before pulling out of the parking lot, I glanced at the fuel gage and saw that Lochlan had prepared in advance for his return trip home by filling up the gas tank. Good, I’d thought, because it meant I wouldn’t have to stop for gas along the way—though I would have to stop at least once for Race and I to go to the bathroom. Lochlan, of course, was out cold, and wasn’t likely to wake until after the sun went down.
For the first hour or so of the trip Race and I were silent. I was sure he was reliving our last conversation in his head, going over it in minute detail. And why shouldn’t he? I’d told him that completing the bond we shared meant he’d have to drink my blood. It was the only way to settle our tumultuous emotional states, the only way to enable our fellow shapeshifters to find mates with other shapeshifters. Not, as I’d said before, that there was anything wrong with mating with humans. After all, every living werekind I’d ever met had a human parent. I had a human parent, and so did Race. But the old stories I’d heard growing up, especially after I had started phasing, said that pair-bondings where both people were two-natured were something special. And nearly every one of my shifter friends had a secret desire to bond with another shifter.
Once again I thought of Atlas, the Titan of Greek mythology who was said to bear the weight of the world. It was an incredible responsibility that had been laid at our feet, one that I was certain we would not take lightly. It was something we would need to discuss again at length, and both of us would have to be comfortable with it before considering going through with it.
Then it suddenly occurred to me to wonder what others would think, not only when they found out Race was a chimaera, but when they found out that we would have to perform the ritual in order for unmated werekind to be able to bond with other weres. I felt a small measure of dread trickle down my spine when it hit me that some of the more hardcore beasties would try and force us to go through with it. They might even demand to watch, as had been done in days past when females were expected to be virgins on their wedding night, to make sure we did it right. As if I’d let that happen, I thought. No way was anybody going to watch me having sex.
Then an even more maddening thought crept across my consciousness: That some of the Family leaders might try to force Race into bonding with another woman—or more than one, for that matter. Because even though he was metaphysically tied to me, Race could still potentially create a bond with one or more females by performing the blood ritual. The Family leaders might well want to force him into taking on more than one mate, especially if I refused to follow through.
“No fucking way.”
“What was that Jules?” Race asked.
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud. Clearing my throat I glanced at him sideways. “I was, uh, just thinking of the potential ramifications of us not going through with the ritual,” I said slowly.
“Yeah, me too,” he replied. “Can I ask what you were thinking?”
“Just that there are some werekind who are pretty hardcore traditionalists. They place a lot of value into following the old ways, like watching a first mating to make sure that the female is a virgin and that the blood ritual is performed.”
“Are you serious? They actually watch people having sex just to see if a girl bleeds?” Race asked, his tone shocked.
I nodded. “Sometimes even when the girl is still a teenager, as sometimes our kind do bond that young. We begin phasing when we’re fourteen, which you already know, and though fairly rare, some shifters have been known to bond immediately after they begin phasing. Some of the Families insist that tradition must be upheld and the bonding performed right away, others will wait until the girl is at least sixteen. Others are decent enough to wait until the girls are eighteen, but even they admit
it’s damn difficult to keep a pair of mates from consummating the relationship as the bond demands for long periods of time.”
“Which is probably why they make them do it, no pun intended, right away,” he surmised. “But how do they work this shit out when one of a mated pair is human, as they have been for the last three hundred years?”
“There are some communities—few, to be sure—in which werekind live openly amongst humans. These are usually small towns of just a few hundred where the shifter population outnumbers the human population, and the humans are sworn to secrecy since no one is supposed to know we exist unless that person is a mate. These towns are also usually a few miles shy of the Middle of Nowhere so that the chance of outsiders discovering the truth is limited.”
“And when the human mates come from outside these places?”
I shrugged. “The places where our kind live openly are mostly run by traditionalists, and the humans living there do so with the understanding that if they or their children end up being a mate, they are required to submit to the traditional rituals. Traditional Families use that as a way to control who their offspring bond to, as if they can actually control it,” I explained. “On the occasions where one bonds with an outsider, I assume they either find a way to make it happen or they wait. I really couldn’t say how they manage those occasions, as I wasn’t raised in a traditionalist community.”
“But there are other shifters back home?” Race pressed.
“Oh yeah,” I said with a nod. “My mother and I are part of a pack. We’re all either Siberian Huskies or Alaskan Malamutes. And there are some nomads who don’t belong to any particular pack; a couple of German Shepherds, a panther, and an eagle or two. I think. Besides my mother and I, I’ve an aunt and an uncle who are shifters, and some cousins. Oh, and there’s a wolf pack in Dayton and another in Dublin, a Shepherd pack in Marysville, and a small pride of panthers in McConnellsville. Truthfully, nearly every major city in every state has some number of shifters, even if it’s only a few. I’m really surprised you never ran into any in Cleveland—I can understand my not meeting any in two weeks, but you’ve been there what, a few years?”
From the Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) Page 12