by Amber Kallyn
Jordan shook his head. “She has no memories of her time with Thomas.”
Connor laced his fingers together. “Then I suggest you two go discuss your plans. You need to come up with something.”
As Jordan rose, Fionah stood as well.
Connor asked, “Stay with me and catch me up on what you two have been doing.”
Fionah twitched uncomfortably, but sat once more. Jordan waved Dalia to precede him out of the room.
“Where would you like to talk?” he asked, feeling uncomfortably unsure.
“The garden? I enjoy it out there.”
“Fine.”
He followed her down the hall, unable to resist watching the seductive sway of her hips, how they rose to her tiny waist. The tank-top she wore showed off the tattoo on her left shoulder, three colored roses—neon blue, orange and green—interconnected with a rainbow of leafy vines.
As they entered the fragrant garden, walking through the rows of flowers, he asked, “What is your tattoo for?”
She covered it with her palm, glancing at him before staring at the path. “The roses are for my sisters.”
So, she carried her family with her. He could barely remember his. The only family he had still living he’d left back in the receiving chamber, except for one, but he wasn’t sure his other cousin still survived.
Dalia sat on the side of the fountain, glaring at him as if warning him not to come close. Jordan took her dare and sat next to her on the rim, so close their legs touched. She scooted away.
He didn’t follow, instead looked at her in silence.
After a few long moments, she rubbed her hands together before laying them on her knees. “Why would you stand up for me? You think I’m guilty.”
He thought over her words, wondering how she’d come to that conclusion, then realized it was his words and actions. He picked his next words cautiously. “I do not believe you guilty.”
“Yes, you do. Each time something happens, you immediately look at me. And it’s always with such coldness.”
“No, lass. I don’t. I am unsure. There’s a difference.”
“Your sister is sure. That woman hates me.”
“She was just a child when her life was changed. Fionah was sweet, so innocent. Then one day, she fell down the stone steps in our castle. She lay in bed, comatose for three months. It was a miracle she survived.” Jordan sighed. “When she woke, she was changed in many ways.”
“That must be hard,” Dalia said.
“Aye. For her it was torture at first. This is why her mind is so... different.” He stood at military attention, gripping his hands behind his back and drawing a mantle of control over himself.
“Does she remember her fall?”
“Nay. She cannot remember.”
Jordan faced Dalia fully. “Fionah suffers from visions of the future, occasionally of the past.”
“So she’s like a Cassandra?” Sympathy filled her voice.
“Aye.”
“And she saw me what? Torturing wolves? Conspiring to have your guard kidnapped?”
“Nay. She hasn’t seen anything clearly. Only felt. And she feels you’re connected to what’s happening.”
Dalia glanced away. “I may not remember what happened when I was with Thomas, but I would know if I was helping someone take your vampires now.”
“And you deny it?”
She met his gaze, her eyes clear and true. “Yes. I do.”
He couldn’t deny the honest ring of her voice. Yet, there was still things hidden in shadows that he had to know. “Tell me what you are.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are not pure human, lass. I want to know what else.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” She looked at her hands. “I was a human, now I’m not. You made me a vampire.”
Jordan sighed. “You said you grew up on a ranch in Montana. Your parents never said anything to you about any paranormal history in your family?”
“Of course not. There is none.”
“I guarantee you there is, lass.”
“They would have told me.”
“Perhaps.”
She stared at him, hard. “They would have told me.”
In his experience, that was rarely true, but he wouldn’t push it. “There is a way I can find out what magic runs in your blood.”
“How?”
“Let me taste it.”
Her eyes grew wide and she leaned away. “What!”
“You have tasted me. Fair is fair,” he said with a grin. The idea of biting her, of drinking her, filled him with anticipation he could barely contain. He stood, and held out a hand. “Come.”
“No way.”
“Why?”
“Because... I don’t know.”
“Come, lass. Let us figure this out together.”
“I’m human. Or was.” Stubbornness rang in her voice.
“Prove it.”
She eyed him up and down, straightened and stood without taking his hand. He grasped it anyway, leading her to the long cement bench. Sitting, he drew her down beside him.
When he inhaled, her scent wrapped around his senses. His thoughts were conflicted, his sister saying he couldn’t trust Dalia, and Connor saying perhaps he could.
Maybe, by tasting her, he would figure a few things out.
And besides, now that the thought entered his mind, he craved her. Needed her, regardless of the issue of trust and traitors.
“Fine. But be quick.” She tried to inch away, but he clamped down on her hand and pulled her against his side.
Dalia sighed, some of the tension leaving her tight shoulders. She glanced up at him. When their eyes met, he saw a longing he himself felt reflected in her gaze. To touch, to hold.
He brushed a lock of pink hair from her face, cupped the back of her head. “This will not hurt, I swear.”
Her lips parted with a gasp and the tip of her tongue darted out, wetting the bottom lip. It was all he could do not to groan as desire flushed through him. He tightened his grip in her hair, tilted her chin up, exposing the pale, delicate flesh of her slim throat.
Slowly, keeping her gaze, he licked the pale blue vein and her beating pulse.
She shivered under his touch, her eyes fluttering partly closed.
Jordan allowed his fangs to extend and slid one along the lovely vein, then bit her gently. She gasped, her hands coming up to caress his shoulders.
He sucked on her skin, drawing her sweet delicious blood into his mouth.
Intoxicating.
Her eyes snapped open, green-blue circled by red. His mind wavered as something filled him, a fog that made it difficult to think. This woman was a drug, trying to take him down into the depths of darkness, yet her entrancing gaze promised untold delights.
He drank, greedily. Leaning over her, Jordan lowered Dalia to the bench. She laid back, unresisting.
He covered her soft body with his own, letting her magic swirl around them, through him, taking him into another world. He couldn’t break away from sipping her blood.
She moaned, pressing up into his touch.
Jordan snapped out of the spell she’d woven as he realized she wasn’t moaning in ecstasy, but pain.
She wiggled beneath him, not to get closer, but trying to get away.
“No, stop,” she cried, hands flailing against him, trying to push him back. “Stop,” she screamed.
* * *
Another scream ripped from Dalia’s throat as the memories assailed her. She slashed out with her nails, scrambling to get away from the vampire holding her down, taking her blood.
His laughter rang in her ears, a sound designed to steal her remaining hope.
“You’ll never get away, dear,” his voice rasped. “Not until I’ve used you all up. And perhaps, not even then.”
His hand wrapped around her throat and she couldn’t breathe. Still, he pounded into her flesh. Ripping pain spread between her thighs, even as her vision g
rew dim and her thoughts slowed.
Then the taste of evil filled her mouth as he shoved his wrist between her lips and made her drink.
“Dalia!” Jordan shouted, jerking her upright.
His voice called to her, yanking her from the dark vision in her head.
Pain exploded across her cheek and she opened her eyes.
Jordan held her tight in his arms, pressing her to his chest. In front of her, the Judge, Connor, stood staring, his face pale, eyes pure red.
“What the hell happened?” Jordan’s voice was strained as if he was in pain.
Dalia pushed weakly against his chest. “Let me go.”
He tilted her head back, looking into her eyes. “You’re back.” He sighed and slowly let her go.
She jumped from his lap, moving to the fountain and staring into the water reflecting the colorful trees entwined in the sky above.
She wanted to dive in, to scrub her body and her mind from what she’d just seen.
“Thomas. He had black hair, and a scar running down the side of his face?” she whispered.
“Aye.” Jordan’s voice came from right beside her.
“I saw him.” She shuddered, trying to block it out. Her chest burned, flowing up her throat. She struggled not to throw up. “I n-need a shower,” she said through teeth beginning to chatter.
“Brandon?” Jordan called.
The man appeared as if he’d only been a step away.
“Take her to her room.” Jordan faced Dalia, but she couldn’t look into his face. “You have twenty minutes. Then we will talk.”
She shrugged and hurried away, desperate for the heat of the water, and soap to scrub everything away.
Dalia stumbled into her room. She ripped her clothes off and raced into the bathroom. Turning the spray on as hot as it would go, she stepped beneath it and grabbed the soap, ignoring the fact tears blurred her vision, mingling with the water which could never get her clean.
Chapter Nine
Jordan kicked the side of the fountain. “What the hell was that?”
Connor rubbed his hands together as if chilled by what he’d just seen. “A memory.”
“So you believe she is truthful claiming she remembered nothing of her time with Thomas?” Jordan asked, though after her violent reaction, he couldn’t deny it.
“Yes.”
“So do I,” Jordan admitted. “Which means she most likely is being truthful about all the rest.”
What the hell had she remembered? Something violent. He passed his hand over the stinging slashes down his throat and neck.
He paced around the fountain, spun when Connor chuckled.
“You’ve got it bad for her, cousin.”
Jordan shrugged. “She is under my care.” Even Connor knew it was a lie from his grin.
It slowly disappeared as Connor said, “She is damaged by what occurred while with Thomas. Treat her gently.”
“I’m not planning on torturing her.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Now, I suggest you go retrieve your... ward, and find out what all she remembers.”
“But gently, right?” Jordan replied sarcastically. Why did everyone think him so harsh? His people he understood. He showed them his hard side, he must to keep order. But his cousin should know better.
He headed for Dalia’s room, rehearsing what to say. It was still a little jumbled when he reached her door, but he wasn’t going to stand outside like an idiot, so he knocked.
She didn’t answer.
“Dalia?” He pushed the door open an inch. The sound of the shower came from the bathroom, as did a high-pitched keening.
Jordan shoved inside and rushed to the bathroom. His heart clenched at the sight of Dalia, curled in a ball in the corner of the shower, the spray turning her skin red from the heat.
He slapped the water off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her and picking her up in his arms. She didn’t resist, just continued shivering and crying like a wounded bird.
Taking her into the bedroom, he sat on her bed, holding her tight as she continued to shudder. He wanted to call someone. Powerlessness filled him, because he didn’t know what to do, how to make her feel better.
Awkwardly, he rubbed her back, letting her cry it out.
A long time passed before her keening grew softer, slower. Her shudders had stopped, but tears still soaked into his shirt.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked.
She shook her head.
As if she realized she was in his arms, she slowly stiffened. Jordan stopped rubbing her back, but kept his hold tight. He wasn’t much of a comforter, but it seemed that’s what she needed, so that’s what he’d damn well give her.
They sat in silence, Jordan trying to come up with something to say. Finally, he told her, “Sharing painful memories of the past can help.”
“How would you know?” she replied bitterly.
After a long moment, he was decided. “A very, very long time ago, I was a young lad, destined to be laird of our Scottish clan when my father died. But one night in December, near Michaelmas, everything changed.”
His memories of that night were startling clear, even if the faces of those he’d loved dearly had become faded. He steeled his heart from the pain that remained even after so much time. Faded, yes, yet it still burned.
“Our home was near the sea, mostly protected by cliffs. During the night, screams reached us from the beach below. We readied to protect the narrow path leading to the castle, and were unprepared when creatures climbed the rocky face and overran us.”
Dalia stilled in his arms, slowly relaxing as he spoke. It encouraged him to face the past once again.
“We fought for hours against the demons. One by one, my kinsmen fell. I thought I was dying. I’d been gutted, bitten, was bleeding all over the ground. But somehow, that morning I woke, alive. My mind was gone though. I don’t know how long it was, but when I came to my senses, I found my sister and Connor. Later I found out there was one other survivor, but she’s been lost to us by time.”
“The rest of your family, your clan, was dead?” she whispered.
He didn’t think she even realized she had grasped his hand and was patting it, trying to comfort him. He quite... enjoyed the womanly softness of it.
“All.”
“Why did they do it?”
He hardened his heart against the familiar pain. “We were betrayed.”
“By who?”
“My fiancé,” he replied shortly.
She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Time heals all pain.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Obviously not.”
That she could read him so well was disconcerting.
“Truly, lass, it does fade.”
“But not completely.” She laid her head back on his chest.
“Will you tell me what you remembered?”
Hesitantly, she said, “Thomas. He... took my blood and made me drink his.”
“There is more.”
She stiffened again and this time he let her go as she scooted away. She slumped to the closet, drew out some clothes and headed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Dalia was gone so long he feared she’d curled in on herself once more, but finally, the door opened and she came out. Her usual bright eyes were still dull, flushed with red.
“Tell me,” he asked softly.
* * *
Dalia shrugged, unable to meet his gaze as the memory repeated over and over in her mind. “There’s not much else to tell. It was only a flash, a small moment. You said I was there a year.”
“Lass—”
She was saved from his questioning by an urgent pounding on the door. It swung open and Brandon pushed inside.
“Fionah is gone.”
Jordan sat on the bed, eyes blazing red, his fangs growing long and deadly. Dalia shivered from
the fury radiating from him. “When?”
“We just found out.”
Jordan leapt to his feet and strode to Brandon, grabbing him by the shirt and pushing him against the wall. “How did this happen?” He kept pushing, until Brandon’s feet left the floor.
“Sire, I don’t know. She was with Connor and asked for privacy, so I left.”
Dalia grabbed Jordan’s arm. “Let him go.”
He dropped Brandon and swung to face her. His eyes were unfocused, blazing red. He shook himself, then stared. “Woman, what are you doing to me?”
“N-nothing,” she stuttered, taking a small step back.
Jordan glanced at his hands, fisting them. “I feel your magic. You’re doing something.”
No she wasn’t. She’d know if she was, wouldn’t she? Dalia took another step away from him.
Jordan’s lips drew back in a snarl as he stalked her way.
Connor ran into the room, took in everything and called, “Jordan.”
“Get out, both of you,” he growled.
“Don’t hurt—” Connor was cut off by another growl.
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
Both men looked unsure, but they deserted her, leaving Dalia to face an enraged vampire on her own.
Fear spiked through her at the sight. Magic sparked in the air, biting at her skin painfully. Finding her voice, she said, “You certainly look like you’re going to hurt me.”
He stopped, hands fisted. “I don’t hurt women, no matter how I feel.”
Nervously, she asked, “Then what are you planning on doing to me?”
The power in the room snapped back and he shook himself like she’d slapped him. When he looked up at her once more, he seemed more in control, but he was still a frightening vision to behold.
And quite sexy.
She couldn’t believe his anger was turning her on. Because somehow, she truly believed he never would hurt her.
The desire quickly faded as her newly awakened memory flashed in her mind again. Dalia turned from him and moved to the bench in front of the window.
The energy of his very presence followed her as he moved to her side.
“I didn’t use my magic.”
“Aye, lass. You did. You may not understand, or even realize it, but you did.”