by Brenda Trim
“I need to find Zander, and then we will tell everyone,” Orlando said before he hurried into the war room.
Breslin was tight on his heels with her heart in her throat. She walked in just as Zander turned from his desk along the back wall. His gaze met Orlando’s, and Breslin didn’t need Elsie and Izzy’s ability to know that their world was about to change forever.
“Can we have a word, Liege?” Orlando inquired and Breslin lost her temper.
“Stop shutting me oot, arseholes! I know something is wrong. I canna feel Bhric, and I want to know what the fuck is going on!” she snarled.
Zander stood and crossed to her side then placed a comforting palm on her shoulder. “There is no need to shut oot the others. If this is aboot the family, it affects us all,” her brother informed Orlando and Santiago.
Both males nodded their heads as their shoulders dropped and their eyes trailed to the ground.
Mack and Kyran walked into the war room, followed by the rest of the Dark Warriors. “You called, Liege,” Cade murmured.
Cade’s twin, Caell, took a seat beside Cailyn as all eyes focused on Santi and Orlando.
“Yes. Orlando and Santiago have requested a family meeting,” Zander explained as he ushered Breslin to a chair.
Breslin watched as the others took a seat. Orlando raked his hands through his white-blond hair and glanced over at Santiago. As more and more of the strands stood on end, Breslin’s heart beat faster and faster, and her mouth went dry. Orlando looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and Santi didn’t look much better.
Orlando cleared his throat then began, “SPD was short-staffed tonight and Santi and I were called to the scene of an accident.”
The warrior stopped abruptly and closed his eyes. Breslin thought he might break down and cry from the overwhelming emotion splayed across his face.
Santiago patted Orlando’s back. “It was a motorcycle accident. There were no…no survivors,” Santi said through a cracked voice then lowered his head.
Breslin couldn’t believe her ears. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the implication.
“Spit. It. Oot,” she demanded through clenched teeth. Tears brimmed and unshed emotion burned her throat.
“It was Bhric’s Tomahawk. From the evidence left behind, it looked like he lost control and crashed into a telephone pole. He didn’t survive,” Orlando shared then buried his face in his hands.
Breslin’s mind refused to accept his words. “Nay. You’re wrong. A simple accident canna kill my brathair. He’s a vampire!” she shouted, giving voice to her denial.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Zander asked, his eyes wide and glassy. Izzy scrambled down from Elsie and ran to her father and climbed into his lap.
“There were reports from a local bar that he left intoxicated. His bike hit the pole at high speed. A fire ensued, and that’s what took his…” Orlando trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.
“Maybe he loaned the bike to someone else and it wasn’t him,” Breslin countered as she jumped to her feet and leaned across the table.
Of course, that’s what happened. Any minute, Bhric would stumble through the front door, hungover as hell, and make some wise-ass remark.
“He didn’t loan the bike to anyone,” Santiago declared and reached into his pocket.
Santi pulled out an object and laid it on the table in front of her. “I’m so sorry, Bre.”
Breslin tore her eyes from Santi’s to look down at the object. It was the Tarakesh signet ring. Each of her brothers had one, but Bhric never took his off. The ring lay there, charred and covered in soot.
This couldn’t be happening. Bhric couldn’t be dead, Breslin’s mind shouted as she collapsed to the floor.
Fire erupted as her trapped emotion broke loose. She screamed and yanked at her hair as tears streamed down her face. Her world fell away as her heart shattered into a million pieces. She didn’t give a shit if the world burned down around her. Breslin’s anchor was gone and she was lost without her twin.
Chapter 4
Alex rotated her head, working out the tension in her neck. The man, vampire, or whatever he was, was asleep in her guest bedroom, and she had no idea what to do now that she had him home. She crossed to her kitchen island and emptied the contents of her messenger bag onto the stainless-steel countertop.
Her shift change had been a harrowing ordeal after she’d absconded with the patient. By the time she walked back inside the building, the staff was in a panic. Peter rushed up to her and asked if she’d run after the man. Alex played along and said that she saw him walking out, gave chase but was too slow, and watched him get in the passenger side of a dark truck, and drive off.
Her brother always said she was a terrible liar and called her on it every chance he could. Tonight, she must’ve put on the performance a lifetime, because Peter didn’t question her. After updating the physician in charge, Alex went to the storage closet and grabbed some medical supplies. She kept basic first-aid on hand at her house, but needed a few additional items.
Alex lowered her head as guilt assailed. Not only did she sneak a patient out of the hospital, she’d stolen from her employer. All for a complete stranger. Shaking her head in disbelief, Alex put the bottles of pain medication, syringes, and other supplies in the cabinet beside the fridge then decided to check on her Ice-Man.
What she’d done was irrational, illegal, and out of character, but there was something about him driving her. It went beyond physical attraction. There was no way in hell she could leave him victim to what would happen when the others discovered he was a vampire. Bile rose in her throat, and her heart stopped when she considered the potential outcome.
As she walked towards the guest bedroom, she noted the unmistakable change in her house. One extra person created a different atmosphere. She didn’t have a large home, but it was big enough to make her feel lonely when it was just her. Now, the presence of another was comforting.
She bypassed the living area with its black leather sofas and made her way down the narrow hallway. The low rumble of his snore echoed, getting louder as she approached his room.
Recalling the timber of his voice made her blood hum. Alex never knew she was a sucker for an accent, but every time he spoke, her mind turned to mush. She had fifteen years of higher education under her belt, but couldn’t form a complete sentence after the vampire remarked that she was beautiful in his irresistible brogue.
A shiver ran up her spine as the cold, tile floor seeped into her bare feet, reminding Alex she needed to get a runner for the hall. Hell, she needed a lot of items. Vincent took every rug from the house when he left, and she didn’t fight him on it. Rugs were the last of her concern when her marriage crumbled. Unfortunately, she hadn’t spent any time replacing things.
Now, with a man in her house, she glanced around and winced at her oversight. The flat-screen television, along with the electronic components, also walked out the door when her ex left. Alex never watched TV, preferring a good book to the awful selection of cable channels. The only thing she’d been pissed about him taking was the stereo.
The day after Vincent left, her brother came over with a bottle of wine. When Brad asked her to turn on some music, she told him Vincent took the sound system. He insisted they go to the local electronics store and replace that shit, pronto. She loved her new voice-controlled speakers. Sadly, Alexa was the only date she’d had lately. Geez, her life was boring.
She worked at the hospital four days a week and volunteered to pick up shifts on her days off. Mountain biking was her favorite pastime in her earlier years, but medical school and residency had consumed every minute, leaving no time for leisure.
Then Vincent came along, and Alex was with him in her spare time. He loathed biking, so she passed up many opportunities to get out and ride. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, her exercise regimen took a downturn.
Treatment limited her physical capabilities and the recumbent
bike she purchased was no real substitute to the challenging trails. Alex hated that her passion fell by the wayside. Admittedly, she was nothing but a pathetic workaholic.
Sighing, she glanced in the bedroom and chuckled. Her guest was lying sideways on the queen-sized bed, his feet hanging over the edge. He filled the bed like his presence filled her house. He was magnetic and all-encompassing.
She watched him sleep. His full lips were slightly parted and his eyes darted beneath closed lids. His broad chest slowly lifted with each breath, and a deep snort followed. She imagined it would be impossible to sleep in the same room with this man, given how loud he snored. In this calm and peaceful state, it was easy for Alex to forget about his fangs. He seemed like an ordinary man.
Suddenly, he rolled over, and spouted something in a foreign language, startling her.
Okay, enough of the staring at the hot stranger, Alex chided and turned to leave the room.
“Thank you, lass,” he croaked.
Alex spun around. “Oh, hey there. How are you feeling?” she asked as she took a few steps closer.
A groan escaped as he maneuvered to a sitting position. He pushed his body backward until he leaned against the headboard. She wanted to help, but fear kept her rooted to the spot. Now that he was awake, Alex didn’t know what to say or do. She brought an unknown man into her house, and now she was alone with him. She was an idiot.
The guy could be a rapist, for all she knew. He may be injured, but she was half his size, and wouldn’t stand a chance against him if he attacked. Alex fingered the cell phone in her pocket and realized she should’ve let her brother know about her houseguest.
Then again, the man had done nothing to make her fear him. Still, she decided it best to keep her distance for now. She’d made enough mistakes where her Ice-Man was concerned.
“Shite, my head is killing me. I swear there’s a fucking ice pick in my skull,” he responded as he rubbed his chin. He winced when he hit the bandage and his brows furrowed in confusion.
“You aren’t that far off the mark. Although, the knife is no longer there. I take it you don’t remember what happened?” Alex questioned.
“Nay, I doona remember last night at all. I canna think with the burning in my brain. And, my throat is on fire,” he said and looked around. “Where am I?”
“You’re at my house. I’m Dr. Alexandra Layne, but you can call me Alex. Can I get you some water? Then I’d like to examine you, and we can talk about what happened to you. I’ll be right back,” she instructed.
Alex was halfway down the hall when she heard a loud thump followed by cursing. She dashed back to the room to see Ice-Man struggling to get to his feet.
“You aren’t strong enough to walk yet. Get back in bed,” Alex ordered and tossed aside her cautionary plan as she rushed to his side, helping him stand.
He shook his head and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, but continued to the doorway. “I’m no’ going back to bed.”
“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” she asked as she slowly walked with him to the living room. Alex wasn’t sure she was much help, given she was a good foot shorter than him, but at least she kept the guy from falling back to the floor.
He stopped and met her gaze. The furrow between his eyebrows deepened and his lips pursed. “I doona know.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I’m stubborn. I doona know if I am stubborn,” he clarified in a scratchy voice, reminding her she needed to get him some water.
It was her turn to gape at him. She was about to ask how that was possible when she recalled his injury.
“We need to have that talk now,” Alex said and deposited him on the sofa and went into the kitchen.
She grabbed a glass of water and a few supplies then returned to the living room.
“Here, drink this,” she urged and handed him the cup as she took a seat beside him. “What do you remember?”
“Nothing of importance. I can tell you this is a sofa and this is a glass of water. I can tell you the days of the week, and the months of the year, but I canna recall my name or where I live. And, I doona know you. Are we lovers?” he asked as he lifted the cup with trembling hands. He licked his lips and gulped down the water as she contemplated his situation.
This guy wasn’t a threat to her. If anything, he was more frightened than she was. Alex couldn’t imagine waking up in a foreign place with no memory of your past or identity. She encountered all manner of people in her work, and had developed a sixth sense about others. This man didn’t have malicious intent, and that realization eased some of her trepidation.
However, the injury to his head was more severe than she’d anticipated. If his fangs hadn’t scared the crap out of her and sidetracked everything, she would’ve requested an MRI, and known more about the damage to his brain. Now, what was she going to do? She couldn’t take him back to the hospital for additional tests. Then again, if there was bleeding on his brain, it could kill him.
“No, we aren’t in a relationship,” Alex replied, trying to hide the blush that stained her cheeks. She was surprised he assumed they were lovers. She was nothing special. A fashion model, with nine feet of legs, seemed more his speed.
He tilted his head in confusion but Alex continued, “I’m an ER physician. You came into my hospital last night with a stab wound,” she added, and noticed his eyes travel to her neck. Out of habit, her hand went to the mark over her left breast, wondering if he was staring at her scar.
“The knife cut through a portion of your brain,” she explained then hesitated. She didn’t know if she should mention his fangs, or that they scared the crap out of her, causing her to panic and rush him from the hospital.
“Are you telling me I have brain damage?”
“It’s too soon to tell the long-term effects from this. Do you have a family? Siblings?” Alex asked, hoping to spark a memory, while avoiding the bigger question…Do you know you’re a vampire?
He laid his head back on the sofa, and she noticed some blood on the dressing over his wound. “Nay. Well, I’m no’ certain. I canna picture any family, although, I know I must have a mamai and da.”
Alex reached over and laid the back of her hand against his forehead, and he closed his eyes at her touch. It was easy to ignore the spark that zapped her skin, given how hot he felt. It immediately made her wonder about infection. Luckily, she grabbed antibiotics from the hospital, just in case.
“I need to check the sutures and make sure you didn’t reopen things with your trip down the hall,” she said softly.
“I’m no’ so easy to hurt. It will be healed in no time,” he responded automatically, his eyes still closed.
Recalling how quickly his bleeding stopped, she had to agree with him. “At least you remember that about yourself. I would ask what you do for a living, but you probably can’t answer that,” Alex teased as she removed the tape and gauze from his chin.
“Apparently, I fight,” he said with a grin and opened his eyes. His amber gaze met hers and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
“I would have to agree with that theory. As your doctor, I recommend you stop. It’s bad for your health,” she said and smiled.
He reached over and placed his large warm palm over hers. The contact turned her butterflies into a swarm of bees.
“I’ll try and remember that,” he replied with a wink and her heart thumped so hard, she was positive he heard it.
Alex jerked her hand away, needing space. Her nerves were frayed, and the man had done nothing but touch her hand. She needed a distraction. Reaching to the coffee table, she grabbed a towel and dabbed the area that had started to bleed again.
Several thoughts popped into her head. Was his vampirism contagious? Could she become a vampire by touching his blood? Or did she need to ingest it?
“So what happens now?” he asked, interrupting her musings.
The waver in his voice made her heart go out to him. He was helpless and rely
ing on her to make his situation better. This man had a home and a family out there, but he didn’t know their names or where they lived. She wanted to help him, but they were in a city of millions, and she didn’t have a clue as to where to begin.
Breslin’s chest constricted, stealing her breath. She opened wet eyelids and swallowed thickly as her world spun out of control. She looked to the night sky, searching for answers, but nothing came.
She glanced to the orchid in her hands. The continuous wringing had caused it to wilt. Breslin insisted on having her and Bhric’s favorite flower for his ceremony, but at the last second, she refused to be a part of her twin’s burial.
Her mind rebelled against the idea that Bhric was dead. There was no denying it was Bhric’s ring that Santiago retrieved from the corpse, but she felt sure that her brother was out there, hurt and possibly fighting for his life, and no one was searching for him.
Breslin wanted nothing to do with the charred remains brought to the compound. Her family could go through whatever burial ritual they wanted, she thought, as she looked out over the dark lake, and tossed the flower overboard.
Was she acting selfish? Yes. But she couldn’t be a part of a ceremony that was a goodbye when she believed in her heart he was still alive. She needed to get her shit together and find Bhric.
Breslin curled into a ball at the bow of her boat, trying to alleviate the pain in her stomach. In the distance, she could hear Zander and Elsie calling for her, but she ignored them. She needed to be alone.
Once again, she tested the bond she shared with Bhric. She wanted to scream when all she could feel was a wisp of pale grey smoke. It was no longer the thick titanium band it used to be, and that made standing by her conviction difficult.
Could it be his lingering spirit she was feeling? Her parents’ deaths were the closest comparison to what she felt now.
Breslin was three years old when the archdemon murdered them, yet she vividly remembered the tears burning her cheeks and feeling like she was going to explode. Uncertainty and fear had her trembling next to Bhric and Zander, as fire shot from her tiny palm, and onto her parent’s pyre. Guilt replaced fear as she watched them burn. Breslin hadn’t meant to be mad at them for leaving her, but she couldn’t take it back.