Wicked Bite

by Jeaniene Frost

  “No, but . . .” Dammit, now he was confusing me!

  “No is right. They’re simply untrained. You were, too, and instead of training you to control your power, Tenoch made you fear and suppress it.”

  “Because I hurt people with it,” I snapped.

  “Did they deserve it?” he countered. “I’ll wager they did, because when your other nature broke free after I died, you didn’t hurt innocents. Instead, you took out the demons who’d tried to kill us, and you forsook eons of vengeance against Dagon in order to pull me back from the grave. When that half of you grabbed the wheel again, you repeatedly protected me, propositioned me—my favorite part—and saved dozens of humans from drowning beneath a toppled house. Show me the evil in any of that.”

  Well . . . I couldn’t, if I was looking at it objectively. But if Ian was right, Tenoch had punished me for simply existing, and the man who’d rescued me, protected me, and loved me when no one else had couldn’t have made such a colossal mistake. Could he?

  No. Ian hadn’t seen what Tenoch had seen back when vampires from a rival clan had kidnapped me in an attempt to force Tenoch to side with them. What I’d done had made Tenoch fear me for the rest of his life. How could I discount that?

  “You’re ignoring the fact that I wanted to do those good deeds.” My voice was flat. “What happens if I want to do something terrible when my other half is in control?”

  Ian snorted. “Then the person you do it to will richly deserve it. You wouldn’t even murder your second-worst enemy when you thought she hadn’t remembered her foul deeds. I would’ve cheerfully slaughtered Ereshki, and I don’t have your supposedly malevolent other nature. Don’t blame it on Dagon’s power in me, either. I know what I am capable of without it.”

  Each point bashed at walls that housed my long-buried doubts, hurt, and anger. I hadn’t always taken Tenoch at his word about me. It hadn’t seemed right that everyone else could mold their character based on their actions, while I had to accept that I was born defective. But, as Ian predicted, wondering if Tenoch had been wrong made the ground feel like it disappeared beneath me. Believing Tenoch had been the basis for almost everything I’d done. If I ripped that belief away now, how did I put myself back together? In many ways, it was easier to continue to believe Tenoch than confront the possibility that I’d lived my entire life based on a lie that the sire I adored had told me.

  “That’s different,” I said to cover my roiling emotions.

  He sighed. “It isn’t. You are one of the finest people I’ve met, to my great exasperation. If you were more selfish, you wouldn’t have stayed away from me after I was first brought back from the dead. You also wouldn’t have spared the little bitch we now have to track down, and you wouldn’t have caged half yourself away to the point that you damn near have a split personality. But you are ridiculously unselfish, which is one of the reasons I so enjoy holding you down to pleasure you before allowing you to touch me,” he added almost offhandedly. “You’re so used to putting yourself last that I truly savor making you come before I’m even inside you.”

  This must be what emotional whiplash felt like. One moment, I was frustrated over his flattering but incorrect portrayal of me, and in the next, I was looking at his mouth and thinking of all the ways he had used it on me.

  “You’re maddening,” I finally said, too jumbled on the inside to come up with anything more articulate.

  He laughed. “Back at you. Leila cursed me right and proper when she bade me to fall in love with someone like you.”

  “Good thing Leila isn’t a real witch or that curse might’ve stuck,” I muttered without thinking.

  He cocked his head. “Whatever do you mean?”

  I hadn’t intended to bring this up. With everything else we’d touched upon, the last thing I needed was to confront Ian with what he didn’t feel for me. “Never mind.”

  He came closer, that relentless gaze pinning mine. “Don’t put me off. What do you mean?”

  Fuck it, why not? I thought despairingly. I’d have to spend years processing all the points he’d brought up about me. Why not give him something to think about, too?

  “I mean you don’t love me.” I squared my shoulders. “It’s fine,” I added. “Things are still very new between us, even if the past couple months feel like years, and . . . why are you laughing?” I demanded, seeing his chest shake with mirth.

  “Because you might be spectacular in bed, but no one’s that spectacular,” he got out between infuriating chuckles.

  Anger shot through me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His mirth faded as his expression sobered. “You’re serious? But you told me you remembered my last words.”

  At that, pain arced through me enough that I looked away. “I do. You, ah, said that you could have loved me.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  My gaze snapped back up. “What?”

  “You misheard me,” he said, ripping my heart apart. This whole time, I’d clung to the hope that one day, “could have” would turn into “did,” and this whole time, I’d been wrong?

  “Not really a surprise,” he went on, heedless to how he was shredding me. “Half my brain was pronged end to end with one bone knife while the other half was partially skewered by a second. Not a recipe for intelligibility, is it?”

  I sucked a breath in and held it so I wouldn’t scream. “What did you say, then?” I managed to ask in a calm tone.

  He closed the space I’d put between us. “Not ‘could.’ I didn’t chase you all over God’s green earth before branding myself a married man in front of the whole bloody vampire council because I could have loved you. I did it because my actual last words were ‘should have told you I loved you.’”

  I froze with such suddenness, it was as if I’d used my abilities to make time stand still. I knew I should say something, but I was too shocked . . . and too afraid that somehow, this wasn’t happening. I’d wanted it too much for it to be real.

  His lips curled as he yanked me closer. “Heard me properly this time? Or do you need to hear it again?” His mouth lowered. “Should have told you I loved you,” he said against my lips. “Whether you’re Veritas the Law Guardian, Ariel the vampire-witch, or Death’s scary demigod daughter. Doesn’t matter. In all your forms, in every manifestation of yourself, I love you.”

  Then he claimed my mouth with a kiss that made me glad I was sitting down, because otherwise, it would have leveled me. He didn’t stop kissing me for the next several hours, but I managed to speak between them, and it was the same four words.

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 38

  I never wanted to leave Mencheres’s beach house. Not when I would forever associate this place with where I’d truly discovered happiness—all internal conflicts about Tenoch and the other half of myself aside. In fact, I was already formulating an offer to buy this place from Mencheres when the water I’d cupped in my hands suddenly shimmered and a familiar, feminine voice said “Ariel” from it.

  I was so startled that I dropped the water and jumped back from the sink. I was alone in the bathroom since Ian had left after our long, very enjoyable shower. I’d stayed to comb the tangles out of my sex-tousled hair and brush my teeth. I’d been in the process of rinsing my mouth out when the water in my hands suddenly began talking in Ereshki’s voice.

  Either I’d just experienced a complete psychotic break, or Ereshki really had been trying to communicate with me through the water. I gave both possibilities fifty-fifty odds.

  No point wondering which. I cupped my hands beneath the sink’s still-running faucet, filled them, and waited.

  No voices, no strange shimmering. Psychotic break, then. I sighed. Well, I’d lasted nearly five millenniums without one. Guess I was overdue. It could be worse. I heard that writers had psychotic breaks every decade or so—

  “Ariel,” a voice said before Ereshki’s shimmering image formed in the water cupped in my hands. “Don’t dr
op me this time,” she added. “This spell is quite taxing.”

  The only reason I didn’t hurl her watery image into the mirror was because I was curious why she’d dared to contact me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said with heavy sarcasm. “Wouldn’t want to tax you. I want you hale and hearty when I rip you to pieces.”

  She laughed. It hit me like a physical blow when I saw the corners of her eyes crinkle with her mirth. When I was human, that sight had been one of the only joys in my life. Now, it filled me with enough rage to make my hands quiver.

  “You did surprise me with how vicious you’ve become,” she remarked. “I had no idea you’d go right for my throat when you first saw me. I thought you still had a sister’s love for me. If I’d known you learned of my duplicity back when you were Dagon’s, I never would have followed you into that bathroom.”

  “I was never Dagon’s,” I spat. “But you have been since the moment we met, and every single moment after that.”

  I saw a hint of her shoulder as she shrugged. “Famines were common when I was young. I didn’t want to die of starvation like the rest of my people. Dagon offered me an alternative.”

  An “alternative”? That’s how she brushed off what she’d helped Dagon do to hundreds of men, women, and children who, unlike me, didn’t come back from the dead after they were sacrificed to him? I wished she were in my hands right now. I’d squeeze the life from her while smiling the entire time.

  “Why are you contacting me? This spell is too complicated for you to use only because you want to gloat.”

  She allowed herself another smile before it faded. “I didn’t realize the depth of your power until I saw you hold back part of the sea. Dagon told me you could tear blood and water from people, but that . . .”

  “Is the least of what I’ll do to you,” I said pleasantly.

  “That’s why I’m contacting you.” A hint of aggravation filled her voice. “I don’t want you to kill me. Do whatever you want to do to Dagon, but leave me alone.”

  Laughter broke from me in harsh peals. “I had no idea you were so funny, Ereshki! Please, tell me another joke.”

  Even through the unsteady sheen of the water, I saw ice fill her clear brown eyes. “Dagon long suspected that Ashael was hiding something. How amusing would you find it if I told Dagon that Ashael was the one who brought you to Yonah’s? Or that the two of you had ‘much in common,’ as you told Yonah?”

  I stiffened. If she did that, Dagon would repeat it, and Ashael would be hunted by other demons for his allegiance to their most-wanted fugitive. Add in the speculation that Ashael wasn’t a “real” demon, and he would be marked for death by every species that feared mixed-race people, which was all of them.

  Shit.

  A knowing look crossed Ereshki’s face. “I thought you cared for the handsome demon. I was too far away to hear what was said, but you appeared to be pleading for Ashael’s life when your lover threatened him right after you arrived at Yonah’s.”

  Dammit! That had happened within full view of Yonah’s house. With the mirrorlike quality of his windows, I couldn’t tell if anyone had been spying on us. Clearly, at least one person had.

  “You must have been shocked to see me,” I noted.

  Another shrug. “Not then. I didn’t recognize you until later. It had, after all, been a very long time.”

  For some reason, that made me angrier than everything she’d said before it. When you helped torture and murder someone for a decade, the least thing you could do was recognize her!

  Ian suddenly filled the doorway, but a sharp shake of my head kept him from entering. “So, you’re offering to keep quiet about Ashael if I don’t hunt you down like the filthy scrap of vermin you are,” I summarized in a hard tone. “And I’m supposed to believe in your sincerity about this why?”

  Her brow rose. “I grow tired of doing Dagon’s bidding. His last task, sending me to destroy Yonah’s island so he could claim credit afterward, nearly killed me, as you know. But, if you kill him and agree to spare me,” her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes again, “I’m free. Is that sincere enough for you?”

  Was she capable of such back-stabbing selfishness? Of course she was. I knew that better than anyone. But I didn’t trust her. Still, that didn’t mean she was without usefulness.

  “Sweeten the deal. Give us a location on Dagon first.”

  “He doesn’t report his whereabouts to me,” she scoffed. “When he wants me, he uses the tie in my brand to find me.”

  “Then tell me where you are so I can find him that way.”

  She gave me a look that was so worldly, it reminded me that she’d lived for as many years as I had. “So you can kill me and lie in wait for Dagon next to my bones? I think not.”

  I gave her a savage grin. “Worth a try.”

  Her image started to fade. “The spell is nearly depleted. Accept my terms, Ariel. Unlike Dagon, I am not trying to kill you, so killing me would only be salve to your pride. Is that truly worth more to you than Ashael’s life?”

  Yes! part of me wanted to shout. I wished that part came from my other half, but no. I owned all of it.

  My sigh exploded out of me. When I spoke, it was through teeth clenched from long-denied rage. “Tell no one of Ashael,” I gritted out, “and I vow that I will never kill you, Ereshki.”

  The last thing I saw was her smile. To anyone else, it would look like the carefree grin of a pretty Middle Eastern woman in her twenties. To me, it was venom sliding through my veins.

  I threw the water into the sink, then pushed past Ian without speaking. I couldn’t stand to hear his recriminations or have him urge me to go back on my word. I already knew why Ereshki didn’t deserve a shred of my honor, but if I only kept my word when it was easy, then it was as worthless as she was.

  I was so agitated, I walked out of the house and onto the boardwalk. The sun was up, its bright rays warming the cold wood beneath my feet. I didn’t stop until I’d left that wood for sand, then left the sand for the icy embrace of the waves.

  Ian, no surprise, joined me. I had on a robe that floated around me in the waist-deep water, but he wasn’t wearing anything except an oddly satisfied smile.

  “What?” I said. “Going to tell me you were right about me being too stupidly honorable for my own good?”

  “Not at all,” he replied in a cheery tone. “I’m too busy envisioning how I’m going to thank Ereshki.”

  “Thank her?” I repeated in disbelief.

  His smile slid into a grin that rivaled the freezing waters for its coldness. “Before, I couldn’t fathom how I’d get to kill her without robbing you of your well-deserved vengeance. Now, she solved that problem, so I fully intend to thank her before I slaughter the little bitch.”

  I started to laugh, which I wouldn’t have thought I was capable of only moments before. But this truly was funny, in a karma’s-coming-for-you way.

  Ereshki had gotten free before because Ian’s guards had made the mistake of underestimating her. She’d just made the same mistake with Ian. Ereshki thought she was safe because I’d vowed not to kill her? Wait until she saw what Ian could do.

  “I’m suddenly in a good mood,” I said.

  “So am I,” he replied, his grin turning wolfish. “Because thanks to her contacting you, now I can also feel where she is.”

  Chapter 39

  The blur that made up my surroundings stopped with the same nauseating abruptness I’d grown used to with teleporting. We’d driven to Dummerston, Vermont, but left our car at a gas station to teleport the rest of the way. Now, Ian stopped a full half kilometer short of where he said he felt Ereshki.

  We stayed at the edge of Route 30. The narrow, north-south road was mostly free from cars despite this being the hour where most human workers would be on their way home. Still, this section of Dummerston looked like it hadn’t been clogged with rush-hour traffic in decades, at least. I pulled out a pair of binoculars from Ian’s bag and aimed it wher
e he pointed.

  Winter had stripped many of the trees bare, allowing me to see past them to a three-story white lodge with a rust-colored fence. There were two tiny shacks on either side of it, but the lodge was the main structure, with the mountain towering up behind it. A faded sign out front proclaimed that this had once been a ski mountain, but from the empty slopes, lack of lights, and missing ski lifts, it had been closed for many years.

  It might have one resident inside, though. I couldn’t tell. The windows I could see were all boarded up.

  “I can’t see inside, and it’s too far away for me to hear a heartbeat,” I told Ian, lowering the binoculars.

  “Ereshki’s in there,” he said with absolute confidence.

  Then she’d chosen her hideout well. The former ski lodge wasn’t near any rivers, and when I sent my senses out to check the ground for water reservoirs, the lack of energy that bounced back practically screamed Parched! to me. There wasn’t even snow on the ground despite this being the height of winter.

  “I suppose the Sahara was too far for her to travel,” I said, only half joking. With the earthquake spell at Yonah’s, the teleporting spell to leave Ian’s house, and contacting me through the water spell, Ereshki might not have had the energy to go farther than Vermont. Thousands of years demon-branded or no, that was still a lot of magic for her to wield.

  Ian let out a grim snort. “If she wanted to live, then she should’ve conjured up another teleporting spell.”

  “She’s probably out of juice,” I replied.

  He flashed me a predatory look. “Then this will be easy.”

  If it was, it would be the first easy thing that had come our way since we teamed up months ago. Still, I could hope.

  “Let’s find cover,” he said, hefting our three heavy bags.

  We chose the remains of a large tree for our hiding place on the opposite side of route 30. It was a hundred meters farther from the lodge, plus the surrounding patch of evergreens blocked our view, but Ian assured me that he could feel it if she tried to leave. I hadn’t seen a car in the lodge’s parking lot, but Ereshki could have hidden one in the back. Or she could have done what we’d done and left her car elsewhere—assuming she’d driven to this section of Vermont. This could have been where she’d teleported to when she escaped from Ian’s. That had only been a day ago, even if it felt much longer.