by Linda Howard
“She’s my friend!” She screamed the words at him, kicking and fighting for all she was worth, jerking on his hair, kicking his shins. None of her efforts seemed to bother him at all. Enraged, terrified, she fumbled for the pepper spray in her pocket, aimed it at his face. “You let me go! I can’t just stand here and watch this happen! If I die, I die, but I won’t let him kill her without even trying to stop him!”
He made another of those movements so fast the action blurred, jerking the pepper spray from her hand. He tossed it away without even glancing at it, and gave a sigh. “Fuck,” he said, in an almost conversational tone, then tossed her aside and was through the door faster than her eyes could register the motion. A half-second later, Valerie came flying inside, landing hard on the floor and rolling a short distance before her limp body came to a stop. With a cry, Chloe flung herself beside Valerie, frantically looking around for something to stop the bleeding from the dreadful wound in her neck, which looked as if an animal had bitten her. There was nothing she could use so she jumped up and raced to the bathroom, grabbed several towels, and ran back. Through the open door she could see … blurs. There was thudding, snarls, the sound of blows, but she couldn’t focus on anything long enough to make out details. She could make out the impressions of flesh and hair, and red smears of what had to be blood, but the two men—men?—themselves were moving so fast she could barely tell they were there.
Let them kill each other, she thought violently, pressing a towel to the puncture wounds on Valerie’s throat. God, what was going on? Nothing made any sense, unless …
What she’d seen tonight—the fangs, the biting, the unearthly speed with which they moved. What she’d heard—humans, worse than insanity, monster. Bits and pieces that fell into place—she’d invited Luca in, but Sorin hadn’t been able to simply bring Valerie inside, he’d asked permission—and waited for her to give it. The long hair, the otherness she’d sensed—it all made sense now.
Except it didn’t. Her senses spun as she tried to get a handle on the impossible thing she was thinking. This couldn’t be real, but Valerie was lying there on her living room floor, bleeding from a bite to the throat. That was real. The unearthly struggle going on in her front yard was real.
Dear God. Luca was right: she would almost rather be insane, or have a brain tumor. Vampires were fucking real, and for some reason they wanted her dead.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
In battle, Sorin was almost his equal. He was strong, a man born to battle as a human and one who had continued to hone his skills after being turned. There was also a part of Luca that made him reluctant to kill a man he’d fought beside in the past, one he actually admired.
He was hampered by his need to take Sorin alive, for questioning. Sorin had no such limitation; he fought hard and fast, his intent plain. With Luca out of the way, Chloe would be dead the moment she set foot outside her house. Within thirty seconds, Luca knew he was in the fight of his life; taking Sorin would be difficult enough even if he wasn’t holding back a little.
“You’ve been practicing,” he grunted as he dodged a blow that might have caved in his skull.
Sorin grinned, his face alight with the joy of battle. “You haven’t,” he taunted.
Their battle was fast and savage, moving from the porch to spill across Chloe’s small yard. They didn’t need weapons beyond their hands and feet and teeth, though so far they both held back from using their fangs because neither of them wanted to move in that close to the other. They moved faster than the human eye could follow, each blow unnaturally strong. Luca didn’t go for the death blows to the heart or head, but he deliberately maneuvered so they were moving farther and farther away from Chloe’s house.
Sorin feinted with his right and Luca moved his left arm to block it, for a fraction of a second leaving his heart unguarded. Sorin’s left fist came in, faster than sight; Luca simply let his momentum keep him turning and he moved in closer, taking the blow on his right shoulder before Sorin’s punch could reach maximum force. The force of the blow rattled the teeth in his head, but he ignored the shock of impact and drove his elbow into Sorin’s solar plexus.
Sorin wheezed and immediately retreated just out of reach. Luca leapt, taking advantage of Sorin’s momentary disadvantage, and slammed the big blond Romanian full force into a tree trunk. A lesser vampire would have been stunned into unconsciousness, but Sorin instinctively fought back, fought through his temporary daze. Seeing a brief opening, he took it, sliding away from the tree so he was no longer pinned between the trunk and Luca’s attack, gaining himself a second of relief.
“Not bad, old man,” he said, needling Luca, trying to get under his skin. Human or vampire, battle tactics were the same.
Luca gave a brief snort. The day “old” was an insult to a vampire was the day he’d know the world was at an end.
Was Sorin holding back, too? His eyes were blazing with fierce pleasure, the same pleasure Luca had to admit to feeling. All too rarely did he have an opponent who could test his mettle, who gave him a real battle. In that respect, he and Sorin were much alike. They were, at heart, more at home on a battlefield, sword and ax in hand, pitting themselves against worthy opponents. Luca, at least, still had the occasional battle—such as with Enoch—but Sorin must be starved for the kind of competition that fed his soul. Was he deliberately prolonging the battle rather than trying to end it quickly?
A kick to Luca’s side sent him reeling, but he recovered, rounded, came right back with a fist to Sorin’s face. The skin split and he felt the splash of blood on his hand. The scent of their blood filled the air, clear to Luca’s sensitive sense of smell. Sorin came in low and fast, catching Luca in the gut with his shoulder, and they fell to the ground together, rolling and punching. Sorin got his hand around Luca’s throat as they rolled across the grass, but Luca took advantage of the opening and drove his fist into Sorin’s chest, pulling the punch just enough to keep from stopping Sorin’s heart.
Instinctively Sorin retreated from what could have been a death blow, throwing himself backward, then they were on their feet again and he was aiming for Luca’s chin with a savage uppercut. Luca did a backwards flip, the power of Sorin’s punch coming so close that he felt the wind of it on his face; the flip brought Luca around and up, coming in below Sorin’s guard and forcing him to fall back even more.
This wasn’t accomplishing anything, he thought, his initial pleasure giving way to annoyance. He and Sorin could continue this way all night and into the morning—that is, if Sorin was able to tolerate sunlight, though at his age, with his strength, he probably was. They’d both be weaker beneath the sun, and the wounds that were inconsequential by moonlight would take on more meaning, more danger—plus a lot of humans would be out and about, and be witness to the battle of the supernaturals taking place on Chloe’s lawn. Sunrise was hours away, though, and while he’d rather question Sorin than kill him, if this continued much longer he might not have that choice.
A wailing noise in the distance grabbed his attention, and he swore. Sirens. Dammit, Chloe had called 911.
Sorin heard the noise, too. He backed away, breathing hard. The two of them surveyed each other. Both had been hurt to some degree, but their various wounds were already healing.
“Why are you doing this?” Sorin asked angrily. “She’s just a human. We’re your own kind, you should be on our side.”
“Why do you want her dead?” Luca countered, though he already knew; he simply wanted to see what Sorin would tell him.
The sirens grew closer. Sorin backed farther away. “There’s something bigger going on than this little human. Stop wasting time with her.”
“The uprising?” Luca made a scoffing sound in his throat.
“Don’t laugh. We’re so much more than these miserable little humans, and you know it. We shouldn’t have to hide what we are, we shouldn’t have to sneak our food like a child sneaking cookies. Tell me one way, just one, that we’re inferior to humans. We aren
’t. You should join us, Luca. The Council has outlived its purpose, keeping the kindred safe by keeping us hidden. We can seize control now; we’re the future.”
“I’m not here to debate politics,” Luca said.
Annoyance flashed over Sorin’s expression, but the sirens were getting closer and closer. He kept backing away, and pointed at the house. “You can’t always be here. I’ll come for her again, or someone else will. You can’t guard against us all.”
Then he was gone, moving with such speed he effectively disappeared. The sirens came even closer, and Luca had to make a decision, fast. He could leave Chloe to her own devices, or he could stay and watch over her. Sorin had said he, or someone else, would be back. If a vampire came to her door posing as a woman in distress, a repairman—hell, anyone—she’d invite death into her house. Her life would be over before she even realized what she’d done.
He shouldn’t care. There were other conduits in the world, others who could bring in the Warriors. And it wasn’t as if Luca had any love for the Warriors themselves, the self-righteous bastards. The Warriors could, and would, kill vampires with ease. They knew how, and they wouldn’t hesitate. Luca wasn’t a fan of the rebels’ cause, but neither did he want to see his own kind slaughtered because a few of them wanted more power in the grand scheme of things.
But though there were other conduits, there was only one Chloe—Chloe, who remembered him.
In an instant he was at her door. She’d invited him in, so he had no trouble crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him. She was kneeling beside her friend, trying to staunch the bleeding, and for the moment she didn’t realize he was there. She had no weapons, no self-protection skills. Without him, she was basically a sitting duck. If nothing else he had to explain to her what was going on, warn her of the danger. And then …
If he left her to her own devices, she wouldn’t live another forty-eight hours, probably not even that long. From what he’d seen, she was in the process of connecting with her Warrior, but was not so far along that the vortex might open within that short time frame. There was still a distance between the two energies he sensed—Chloe’s, and that from the other side. Before the Warrior came through their energies would have to merge entirely and Chloe would have to understand what was required of her. That hadn’t even begun to happen; she was still in the “I’m going crazy” stage of denial.
He was more than a little torn. The rebels’ argument definitely had some merit. Keeping the existence of vampires a secret wasn’t an easy task. Sometimes it was galling to be forced to structure one’s life around inferior beings. What vampire wouldn’t want to be openly at the top of the food chain? It was humiliating to be forced to hide from lesser beings. On the surface, victory should be easy enough for those with superior strength and intellect.
And yet … Luca saw a different possible result. The rebels had forgotten what they themselves had been like before they were turned, and they were discounting how stubborn, willful, and downright insanely resistant humans could be. Humans would never completely bow down to vampires; the war would never end. In the end, a lot of vampires would die, maybe more than they could afford to lose. Humans definitely had the advantage of numbers, so they could afford to suffer far more losses than vampires could.
The world would change, and not for the better. While it was easy to dismiss humankind as being far beneath the kindred, there was an innocence and a beauty about these foolish, troublesome humans that shouldn’t be lost. Chloe Fallon, who would rush toward certain death to defend her friend, shouldn’t be lost.
Besides, he still didn’t know why she was immune to his magic. Until he knew why she could remember him, she was a puzzle, a curiosity … a gift.
At this point, Luca was alone. He didn’t know who he could trust, and who he couldn’t. Every member of the Council, every employee of the ancient ruling body, was suspect. There was no way of knowing who among his acquaintances had joined the rebels, and it wasn’t as if he could go to the human authorities.
Which left Chloe—Chloe and her Warrior. At the moment, they were his only allies.
* * *
Chloe suddenly became aware of Luca’s presence behind her and she whirled around on her knees, bloody towel in her hand. He was standing no more than six feet from her. There was a spot of blood on his jaw, another on his forearm, though she couldn’t see any actual wounds.
Vampire! her subconscious shouted in warning. No shit. Thanks for the warning, but at the moment she was short on crosses and garlic. The only thing that prevented her from descending into shrieking panic was the knowledge that twice now Luca had saved her from other vampires.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
“For now. We need to get our story together, now, before the police get here.”
Chloe glance down at Valerie to check on her; she had passed out, but was breathing slowly and regularly. “You called the police?” she asked in surprise.
Luca’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “No. I thought you did.”
She had certainly considered doing so, but what the hell was she supposed to say? Help! Two vampires are brawling in my front yard!? She didn’t think Valerie was in any immediate danger, unless the vampire’s bite carried some sort of disease that no hospital could help her with.
Her dazed mind kept going back and forth between being relieved that she wasn’t crazy, and being stunned to discover that beings she’d always thought of as fictional actually existed. It wasn’t as if she could deny what she’d seen with her own eyes. Maybe tomorrow she’d think this was all a dream; maybe Luca would use some vampire woowoo on her to make her forget.
She hoped so. She didn’t much like having her world turned upside down. Forgetting would be very, very good. On the other hand—there was always that other hand, dammit—how could she protect herself against something if she didn’t know the danger existed?
Outside, the sirens grew louder, closer, then passed on the connecting street, on their way to some other destination. Lucky cops, she thought; whatever had happened at that destination, it couldn’t possibly be as interesting as what had happened here. Ignorance was bliss.
First things first. “Will Valerie be all right?”
Luca walked closer, looked down. He studied Valerie as if she were an inanimate object—with curiosity but no concern. He made a sort of put-upon noise, then moved so quickly Chloe didn’t have a chance to tell him to stop, or ask him what he was doing. He scooped Valerie up into his arms and carried her to the sofa, where earlier in the evening Chloe and Valerie had talked and watched television as if the world wasn’t about to change.
He went down on one knee beside the couch and bent to put his mouth to Valerie’s throat. Chloe cried out, darting forward. “No!” she yelled, grabbing his shoulder and pulling at him.
He covered her hand with his, lacing his fingers through hers a little as he looked up at her. “It’s all right. I’m going to lick the wound. My saliva will make her heal much faster than she would on her own.”
Despite herself, Chloe was a little disarmed by his touch, the intertwining of their fingers. Fiercely she tried to remind herself that if he was a vampire, he could play all sorts of mind games with her and that made her more determined to hold on to her instinctive hostility. She’d been bowled over by him from the moment she first saw him, and now … now she didn’t know what to think. “You aren’t going to bite her?” she demanded suspiciously. “You don’t want a taste?”
Was that a sparkle in his eyes? Maybe, because he almost smiled. “You know what I am.”
“Not being blind or stupid, yeah, I do.”
“Good,” he said softly. “Then you know that if I want to feed from her, there’s nothing you can do to stop me. But I’m not hungry, and she doesn’t appeal to me on any other basis. I’ll heal her, and I’ll make her forget everything that happened tonight. On the other hand, I’d very much like another taste of you, if you offer.”
Ch
loe’s heart lurched, then began racing from a tangled combination of fear, anger, and excitement. Taste her again? When had he tasted her the first time? She felt that odd shimmer in her brain, behind her eyes, and abruptly she had a vague memory of him hunkered in front of her with her skirt pushed up and his tongue gently licking over her leg. Her knee … yes, her leg had been scraped, and he’d taken care of her. You’d think she’d been leaking chocolate, the way he’d seemed to savor her blood. Oh, God. Her legs turned to spaghetti as the memory brought a rush of physical longing that rattled her with its intensity. Level-headed Chloe simply didn’t get lost in lust, but with Luca, she was afraid that might actually be possible.
She took a deep breath, forcing her thoughts away from that direction. Valerie was what was most important here, that and the sudden sea change her world had just undergone. “Can you make me forget?” she asked with a tinge of bitterness, because what she wanted most was for all this weird shit to just go away.
Luca shook his head. “In your case, forgetting could be deadly. You have to be on guard, and you can’t be if you don’t remember.”
“What if I don’t want to know what I know?”
“You don’t have that option. Chloe …” He paused, squeezed her fingers before releasing them. “You’re different.”
Great. The one time in her life she wouldn’t mind being perfectly ordinary, and he tells her she’s different. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you going to explain that a little further? Because, frankly, that doesn’t tell me squat.”
“Later. Let me take care of your friend first.”
He’d even distracted her from Valerie. Chloe felt as if she should smack herself in the head. Yes, what had happened had her rattled, but it hadn’t made her stupid, she hoped. “Yes, of course. Valerie first, then … explanations. Lots of them.”
He gave her a quick, wry look before leaning forward again; he slowly began licking the two puncture wounds in Valerie’s slender throat. The tip of his tongue danced repeatedly over the twin wounds. His long hair fell across his face, obscuring her view, and that gave her the strength to look away, to suck in a long, calming breath.