Crimson Covenant

by Samantha Whiskey

  “What would you call it then?” Valor asked as we took the concrete stairs down and away from the library, turning left and heading toward the parking garage where I’d left my car earlier that morning.

  I shrugged. “Wrong place, wrong time?” I couldn’t explain it any other way. It wasn’t like the creep had targeted me specifically. I’d merely gotten in his way. And thank goodness, too, because him plowing me over had slowed him down just enough for the man and his friends to chase after him. Or, at least, I assumed they did since they’d disappeared faster than my eyes could follow.

  “Whatever the case,” Valor said, stopping at the parking garage’s entrance. “You drive from now on.”

  I arched a brow at her. “That sounds an awful lot like an order,” I teased. “And I don’t remember you being my mother.”

  An old pain flashed behind her eyes, but she blinked it away. “I’m better than a mother,” she said, draping an arm around my shoulders. “I’m a bitchy best friend who happens to love you.”

  My heart warmed at her declaration. If there was one thing being an orphan had taught me, it was to appreciate true compassion and friendship when it came along. Such a rare thing, to love someone wholly and trust them implicitly. Before Valor, I’d only done so with books.

  “I drove today,” I said, jerking my head behind me. “And look at that, I parked in a well-lit area.”

  “Good job,” she teased, releasing me. “You want me to walk you to your car?”

  I laughed. “No,” I said. “I think I can manage the whole two sets of stairs on my own. Thanks, though.”

  Valor looked like she might argue, but I planted her with a don’t-patronize-me stare. “Text me later,” she said, and I nodded, waving to her as she headed toward the main city street to hail a cab.

  I turned into the parking garage, climbing the stairs, and totally avoiding the iron railing that jutted from the wall. It was covered in decades’ worth of ick I’d rather not touch. I cleared the second level in record time, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up despite my reassurance to Valor that I was fine.

  Ice crystallized in my stomach as I stepped into the near-vacant section. My car was all the way across the expanse, tucked between two black sedans. I swallowed hard and fished my keys from my bag, interlacing them between each finger. God, last night really had shaken me up, whether I’d been the target or not.

  I quickened my steps. The icy sensation spread to the base of my skull.

  No, no, no.

  You’re fine.

  Ignore it.

  It’s nothing.

  I’d felt the sensation before. Many times.

  More times than I’d like to remember. Definitely more times than I should ever let a licensed professional know. I’d made the mistake of telling one of my assigned social workers when I was thirteen about my…feelings. The ones I could never quite explain—the instincts, the visions, the nightmares that played out on the news days later.

  I shook out my shoulders as I rounded the first sedan, hating the cold cobwebs clinging to my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, my adrenaline spiking, prickling…

  Turn around, a familiar voice called in the shadows of my mind.

  My eyes widened, my body freezing at the warning.

  This wasn’t about last night.

  This was about right now.

  I could feel it in my gut, in my blood.

  My fingers shook as I gripped the keys. I held my breath, straining my ears for any movement.

  A whisper of feet hissed behind me.

  I whirled, jagged keys sticking out of my fist—

  And smacked into a face I recognized. One with blue horns and malicious, yellowish-blue eyes.

  Terror clanged through me—this close, in the stark white lights of the parking garage, I could tell the creep wasn’t wearing a mask. Then what the hell—

  He sneered, batting away my second attempt at a swing as if I were nothing more than a fly. His grip was searing, grinding my bones together as he hauled me to him. I struggled, the breath freezing in my lungs as I thrashed and clawed. His grip only intensified, and he dragged me toward that sedan—

  “No!” I screamed, managing to work some air into my lungs. “No!” Someone had to hear me. Someone had to be up here. Weren’t there cameras in garages like these? Some kind of security guard? I dug in my feet, bending my knees and flinging my arms toward my car’s doors, grabbing for a handle, anything that would stop the creep’s pace.

  My fingernails scratched against the metal, cracking two of my nails with a sharp bite of pain.

  The creep hissed again, releasing me so fast I smacked into my car. Relief pulsed through my blood as I got my feet under me, as I prepared to run—

  A white-hot burst of pain radiated from the base of my skull to the crown of my head. Black spots dotted along my vision, my limbs instantly ten times heavier than they’d been seconds ago. I slumped against my car, the cold pavement jarring my skin as I fell in a heap near my tires.

  Black bled into my vision, a thick layer of fog as I fought to get my hands to work.

  The creep stood over me, his blue horns glistening in the flickering lights above.

  I blinked, my lids heavy, my heart racing and stuttering as if it didn’t know whether to go incredibly fast or incredibly slow.

  He reached for me, his fingernails black and filed to razor-sharp points.

  I fumbled in my mind, searching through the sticky syrup for the use of my arms.

  He screeched, his head flying upward, those black eyes looking above and behind me. I couldn’t move to follow his gaze, couldn’t think, couldn’t blink.

  One second he was there, the next, he wasn’t.

  Scuffling sounded behind me.

  Grunts and wails and growls.

  My lids were lead weights.

  My heart slowed.

  A squelching sound.

  Silence.

  The deep-sea of my mind pulled me under like a heavy curtain, sinking until there was nothing but suffocating black.

  Normally, when I passed out face first in whatever ancient book I was studying for my doctorate, I awoke with my mouth as dry and dusty as the pages of the book. Not to mention a major kink in my neck.

  My lids were heavy, but my mouth wasn’t dry and dusty.

  My tongue was coated in a unique flavor—cocoa and cayenne and something else, something almost woodsy. Had I bought a cup from the coffee cart before I inevitably fell asleep in the library again?

  The memories of the night before were sluggish, almost lazy as they rushed to the forefront of my mind.

  Blue horns.

  Razor sharp nails.

  Growls. Struggles. Pain.

  I snapped my eyes open, shooting straight up in—

  A bed.

  Omigod, I’m in a bed.

  I shifted the black silk sheets around my body, sighing in relief when I found my clothes intact. The breaths in my lungs came fast and erratic as I scanned the area.

  Black.

  Almost everything in the room was black. Black sheets, silky against my trembling fingers. The ultra-soft mattress was supported by a massive ebony four-poster, the pillars intricately carved with sharp yet flowing designs. The walls were a slate-gray stone, broken apart by shuttered windows and thick, woven tapestries with midnight backgrounds and near-glowing white night-blooming flowers scattered across the top. An ebony wardrobe sat on the opposite side of the room, brass candelabras sitting atop, the black wax dripping from the heat of flickering flames.

  Panic clawed up my spine, choking my airways. I jerked the sheets to the side, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I hissed at the cold stone floor as it hit my bare feet. A quick search said my shoes had been stolen. I hurried toward the giant wooden door decorated with swirling black steel, and yanked on the handle.

  Locked.

  My heart raced, my mind trembling as I sucked in too much air too quickly.

&nbs
p; Shit, shit, shit.

  Why hadn’t I asked Valor to walk me to my car? Why had I insisted I’d be safe in the stark lights of the parking garage? Why—

  No.

  I couldn’t crumble right now.

  Later.

  I could do that later.

  I tugged and yanked and jerked on that iron door handle. So hard my shoulder barked in pain, and the skin of my palm scraped.

  “Only myself or those I choose are capable of opening that door, and the steel makes it impossible to wend through” a deep, masculine voice resonated from behind me.

  I whirled around, and I swore my heart stopped.

  Blue-gray eyes that nearly glowed, strong jaw, hair as black as midnight, and a body that could render mine useless in seconds.

  “You.” The word was a strangled breath.

  The man from the night before. The one who’d tried to help me before rushing off to help the other girls.

  He slid his hands into his pants pockets—leather. Leather that clung to every glorious muscle. Notes of citrus, cocoa, musk, leather, and cedar hit me with his simple move. The scent as intoxicating as the taste in my mouth, and somehow, the two complemented each other. My body relaxed, my breathing slowed, but my mind? It was content in panic mode.

  The man cocked a dark brow, not bothering to step toward me. Those eyes tracked my movements as I tried and failed to subtly edge toward the wardrobe. Toward the only space in the room with a potential weapon.

  “Who are you?” I managed to ask, finding more of my voice as I neared that candelabra.

  Amusement flickered in his eyes as if he could indeed read my intentions.

  “Alek.” The name rolled off his tongue, and betraying chills raced across my skin. He oozed sexuality, but in a way that both terrified me and had my blood spiking without my consent. He’d haunted my thoughts the night before, and I’d only seen him for a few minutes. Here, now? In this locked room, complete with silk sheets and a scent that made my head spin?

  “Omigod,” I said, reality hitting me like a bolt of lightning. I shook my head, subtlety all but forgotten as I snatched the lit candelabra off the table and wielded it before me. A few drops of black wax sizzled against my skin, just above my wrist that still tingled. Alek flinched at the sight. “No,” I said, the brass, burning structure before me. “I will not be sold. I didn’t hang onto my virginity for twenty-four goddamn years to have it auctioned off by some master of a sex-slavery ring.”

  Alek’s full lips parted, just a fraction. He almost looked offended—a blink of emotion before he schooled his features into what I could only describe as a predator’s gaze.

  God, how did I let this happen? I was usually so damn cautious. I practically lived at the library for shit’s sake! I barely drank, never took drugs, unless you counted my multivitamins. How the hell had I ended up in Alek-the-sexy-and-terrifying’s personal sex den?

  That dark brow cocked again as he eyed the candelabra in my hand. “Are you going to do something with that or simply stand there and burn?”

  I narrowed my gaze, anger sizzling white-hot in my veins at his condescension. “Let me go,” I said, mustering as much of a threatening tone as I could.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said, his voice deep, even, calm.

  I wanted to cry.

  I wanted to get down on my knees, curl into a ball, and force myself to wake up from this nightmare.

  But more than any of that, I wanted to smack that arrogant look off his impeccable face.

  I stepped one foot toward him, angling for better purchase.

  And I threw that heavy ass candelabra right at his face.

  The flames hissed as it soared through the air—

  And stopped.

  Like, full on, dead ass stopped.

  In. Mid. Air.

  The brass structure hovered a few inches before his face, the flames unhindered by my throw.

  He blew out an aggravated breath, his hands still in those pockets. A slight nod to the left and the candelabra gracefully returned to its position on the wardrobe. Then the lights clicked on, illuminating the rest of the room.

  My knees shook, my limbs suddenly feeling like foreign entities attached to my body. I’d seen things all my life I couldn’t explain, but somehow I’d always managed to attach some sort of logical reasoning to them.

  Nightmares that turned up on the news? Simply me being perceptive to the mood of the city.

  Knowing when Valor would be late? Me learning her patterns.

  Sensing danger before it approached? Again, like my therapists had always said, I was perceptive as hell.

  But this?

  I had no logical way of explaining this.

  I licked my lips, my mouth filled with that flavor I couldn’t explain.

  “Drugs,” I blurted out.

  Alek took one smooth step toward me.

  I retreated just as carefully.

  “No.” He shook his head, advancing another step.

  “You had to.” My eyes flashed to the candelabra, the one I knew I threw…but maybe I’d hallucinated it all. Maybe I was still hallucinating—

  “I wouldn’t.” Another step.

  My spine hit the wooden door.

  “I won’t be sold,” I said with much more determination than I felt. Because who the hell was I kidding? The size of him? He could do anything he wanted with me, to me.

  “I wouldn’t,” he said again, stopping so close I could feel the warmth from his body. And dammit, my body reacted. The traitorous bitch ached and sizzled from his nearness. Terror and lust and hunger swirled together in a crescendo rationality couldn’t follow.

  “Don’t touch me,” I snapped, though he hadn’t lifted a finger toward me.

  His blue gaze narrowed, his lips parting just enough…

  Fangs.

  Those were fangs descending from where his canines should be.

  My heart slowed, time slowed as he shaped those lips into a smirk, those fangs winking in the flickering candlelight.

  “Trust me,” he said, his voice gravely. “If I touched you in the way I wanted?” He licked his lips, his eyes trailing the length of my body. I felt that gaze like a brand. Like those flames from the candle had teased every inch of my skin. He stepped closer, inhaling deeply as if he could smell the mixture of terror and desire curling off of me. “You wouldn’t survive it, human.”

  The word somehow made everything snap into place in my sluggish mind.

  Human.

  Fangs.

  The taste in my mouth.

  I licked my lips, sampling the flavor once again. Then I took a deep, steadying breath, inhaling more of that intoxicating scent that matched and complemented the taste in my mouth.

  Blood.

  His blood. Somehow, I knew that without question.

  Vampire.

  “No. Fucking. Way.”

  3

  Alek

  She stared up at me with a mixture of defiance and disbelief, her green eyes brighter than any jewel I’d ever seen, and fuck, her scent had my fangs fully distended and my cock harder than the steel that framed the door to my bedchamber. My entire room smelled like honey, cinnamon, and vanilla, and had since the moment I’d brought her here last night.

  I’d fed her, healed her the only way I knew how, then watched over her as she’d slept in my bed. My bed. Not the infirmary, where I should have taken her. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Yes, fucking way,” I said, bracing my palms against the door and caging the tiny, fragile human between my arms, indulging the inexplicable craving to get a little closer. To breathe her into my lungs, to taste—don’t even think about it.

  “Vampires don’t exist.” She lifted her chin and met my gaze head-on, and damn if that didn’t make me grin.

  “And yet, here I am.”

  Her lips parted in a delicious little O, and my thoughts took a step beyond tasting and landed firmly in the realm of taking. The instinct to clai
m her mouth roared within me just as loudly as the hunger for her blood, and I tensed every muscle in my body to stay right where I was.

  “Don’t worry, Lyric. I’ll wipe your memory when it’s safe for you to go. You won’t remember a thing. No nightmares of Nosferatu or low-ranking demons to plague your sweet dreams.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Your driver’s license.”

  The intercom system went off at my left with a full two seconds of white noise to prepare me for the interruption. Only Lachlan would be so bold.

  “My lord.” The Scotsman’s thick burr came through the intercom.

  I grunted my displeasure and leaned a little closer to Lyric, leaving only the barest of inches between my lips and the silk of her hair. Damn, that hair had looked incredible fanned out over my pillow as she’d slept, the contrast of light and dark erotic enough that my sleep had been nearly non-existent.

  “Alek,” Lachlan snapped. “I’m well aware you’re in there. We have matters to attend to.”

  I sighed, then dropped my hands to Lyric’s shoulders and tugged her gently from the door, willing it open with my mind.

  “This had better be damned important,” I said to my second over the human’s head.

  Lyric shook off my hands and turned to face him.

  “The council is—” Lachlan’s eyes flared wide for a millisecond before he schooled his expression into something glacial, and I knew he’d scented me on her.

  Lyric gasped and backed up two steps, straight into my chest. I felt the impact like a branding iron, and the scent of her fear had me growling low at Lachlan.

  That earned me a raised eyebrow from my second-in-command. “How about I just wait out here in the hallway while you finish your feed?”

  Lyric’s fear skyrocketed, the scent bitter and unwelcome as she stiffened.

  “I’m not feeding on her, you jackass. And yes, you can damn well wait outside.” I slammed the door in his face without moving a muscle.