Undying Thirst (Crimson Coven #2)

16. Catalina

SIXTEEN

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Cobwebs coated my brain and I slowly crawled free of them. With a gasp, I shot straight up. A mattress dipped under my ass. The bed sank under my weight. I curled my fingers into the brown comforter. Tobias’s room.

The events of last night rushed to the forefront of my memory. One after the other slammed into me.

Giving into Asher, Tobias . . . Jax.

A priest ate me out and I was all for it. If there was a hell, I was heading straight there. I tempted a fucking priest out of their vow of celibacy. Guilt nibbled on my conscience, realistically, though, I understood I wouldn’t have been able to force him. Oh, no, but it didn’t stop there. I incited Jax into fucking me even though I knew he hated me. All because I didn’t want to be alone. I rubbed my temples. My lust toward them was nothing new, but last night I’d turned over a new shameless leaf.

I pressed my palms into my eyes. So much happened last night. My brain reeled as events flashed behind my closed eyelids.

Asher claimed he wouldn’t let me go.

Glee surfaced, expanding in my chest, about to pop. No, calm down , his words meant nothing. I could never truly belong.

Asher was why they hadn’t offed me. Him and maybe Tobias, but that could have flown out the window with what happened last night. The dead body on the steps flashed to the forefront. My stomach twisted.

I was so tired of being scared.

Staying with them . . . as much as they could never truly care for me, was my only option other than death. I could make a stake out of something, except I knew myself. I didn’t have killing them in me—not even a little bit. I was a survivor . . . more of a runner, and above all: not violent.

I stretched out on the bed, soreness kissing my muscles. The cotton sweater tickled my thighs. I plucked the front of the top that Asher must have dressed me in. Wait, I wasn’t bound to the bed. The sconces framing the door emitted a soft glow and I scanned Tobias’s room. The metal shutters were down.

“Asher? Tobias?” I shouted. Silence. No answer. It had to be morning.

They never left me unbound or alone until now. I eyed the doorknob. Had they . . .? Maybe my opportunity had come sooner than I anticipated. I jumped to my feet, rubbing my palms against the large sweater. I dropped my gaze to the doorknob. No way they left it unlocked. I gripped it . . . and it turned. A smile twitched the corner of my lips, and I caught myself before it turned into a full blown one. No celebrating until I was long gone.

A lovely, sweet scent reached my nose and I lifted the front of the sweater to sniff it. My eyes shuttered as I inhaled deeply. With my move, my hair fell forward, so I brushed the wavy masses back. It had puffed up much more than usual, like it did after I showered and fell asleep without blow drying it. I sniffed a lock. That didn’t smell like my shampoo, there was an earthy musk mingling with a sweet scent. Tobias. All the Crimson Coven vampires had the same distinct vanilla smell. Not overwhelming or cloying—a scent I could breathe in forever. I sighed and marched forward.

Each step was accompanied with a twinge of soreness. Whoever bathed me last night had done me a favor; it was something I could begrudgingly admit. I bet I’d feel ten times worse if I had woken sticky, naked, and in pain.

I padded across the carpet, down the hall toward the staircase. A few steps more and I would be within the faint light filtering up the stairs. The only beam spearing through the hallway since the shutters covered the window at the opposite end of the hall. I descended the steps. No one stopped me. There was no sound or a vampire springing out to yank me to their side. A smile bloomed to life.

I tiptoed as I crept forward, trying to be as quiet as possible. They were deep in their vampire slumber, but I could never assume what precautions they’d taken to ensure I stayed put. I was counting on them assuming I would be out for the entire day considering last night’s events.

The exit, freedom, taunted me from a few steps away, but I kept my pace steady and quiet. If I stepped out unscathed . . . where would I go?

I didn’t have anything. My things had all gone up in flames, from my laptop to my clothes, to most likely my cat. That included my debit cards. My heart pinched at the thought of all I’d lost. Wondering if Binx had escaped or if he was truly gone. I slowed. Sunlight spilled in from the half-circle window at the top of the wide door.

But even if I had nothing on me right now, I might not have a chance like this again. I’d just have to find a ride to the bank . . . except they’d request identification. If I went to the police, they wouldn’t be able to protect me against vampires that could compel them, and even less against their deadly strength.

Then there was the dead girl. Whoever had killed that girl, and all signs pointed to the Pale One, could kill me. What if Crimson Coven was the only reason I’d survived this long?

Who was I kidding, they were also the reason I was in this mess.

The doorknob twitched, like someone was trying to open it. What the . . .? A thin knife looking object jiggled between the hinge and the frame. That didn’t look legal. I backed up, at first hesitantly, and then I bolted into the living room and crouched behind the thick red curtain. The shutters were drawn down in here, too, so it left me within a veil of darkness.

I was just in time for the click of the lock giving to reach my ears. I kept my breaths shallow, but in my flurry to hide, I disturbed the layer of dust coating the velvet fabric. I clasped my palm over my nose, trying not to sneeze.

Whoever snuck in shut the door quietly—sneakily.

I nudged the curtain to peek out. A tall, slim form paused in the middle of the foyer, a swinging machete in hand. The weapon was half the size of my body.

My lungs seized. Was he here for me? I clenched the soft curtain in my fingers. Breathe. I forced an exhale out. Were there more people outside? Ready to catch me if I fled? I licked my lips. I’d have to take the chance.

The footsteps became louder and then the man came within my view. His gaze scanned the dark living room I hid inside. I dipped to hide my mass of hair. Gashes marred the man’s face and . . . I squinted. Were those bite marks on the side of his neck? He continued looking around and anger flitted over his expression, then he started down the hall.

Slipping out from the curtain, I oh so slowly tiptoed across the living room, stopping shy of stepping into the foyer.

What would the person wielding a machete do to the vampires? I clenched my teeth.

Not my problem. I tiptoed out and leaned to make sure it was a clear path to the door.

From the light, hollow steps echoing down the hall, he was in the kitchen. He seemed to be sweeping the area.

Would he use the machete on the vulnerable sleeping vampires upstairs? Or was he just after me?

I sighed and squeezed my hand into a fist and peeked at the steps. He could kill them, and the Crimson Coven would be no more . . . revulsion roiled in my chest. I didn’t want them to be gone. At least not all of them. Could I live with their death on my conscience? I only had a moment to think about my next act. My body moved before my mind caught up and I dashed across the open foyer and up the steps. I skidded to the left side of the hall. The first door was my target. Since I had woken up in Tobias’s room, then maybe he’d gone to bed there as he had before. I opened the door as quietly as possible, sliding inside the room and gently shutting it behind me. Closing the door left me in the dark. My heart jumped frantically. I can do this , I chanted repeatedly, almost like a prayer.

With my hands in front of me, I navigated from muscle memory since I couldn’t see anything. My knee bumped into the mattress and I ran my hands over a cotton sheet until my fingertips nudged a foot. Please, please be Tobias. Using it as a guide, I dragged my palms up the muscled body.

This didn’t feel like Tobias. He was too bulky. I trailed my hands up the large body. All of them were ungodly tall. Tobias was compact and the leanest of the three, and this one had too much muscle.

I touched a hip and the divots on the stomach dipped dramatically, marking his abs. Ren was the only one who had this many distinctly chiseled abs. Hands were interlaced on his belly and I ran my fingertips over the knuckles. Definitely Ren. He had scars on his knuckles like he spent most of his time as a human beating on people or punching poles. Could be either one, honestly.

“Ren,” I whispered and nudged my palm against his shoulder. He didn’t budge.

Could I even rouse him? My hand smacked into a corner of a nightstand and I flipped the lamp on, knowing it might bring attention to this room. But I had no choice, I needed to see. “Wake up,” I whispered. “Ren.”

I clenched my fist, poising to strike his face. I pursed my lips, winding back. I sighed and opened my hand. My aversion to violence was annoying. He’d hunted me down. He’d laughed at me. He’d stood by with that irritating smirk—I smacked him across the face. His eyes sprang open so suddenly. I hissed a breath out, clenching my stinging hand.

He lashed out, grabbing my arm so hard I landed on the bed. My bounce on the mattress cut off as he flattened me under him. Ren grabbed my throat with one hand, the ease in which he moved, frightening.

He didn’t blink as he loomed over me. I lay unmoving, struggling to breathe. He inhaled sharply, lowering the tip of his nose to brush it against my cheek. The suffocating grip loosened. I dragged in oxygen.

“If you’re trying to kill me, you’ll have to do better,” he said, voice husky.

I fervently shook my head.

“Someone broke into the house.” My whisper broke mid-sentence.

He turned to granite and after a beat rolled to the side. As soon as he was upright, he wilted to the left, staggering slightly. Each blink of his eyelashes seemed to weigh him down.

He braced himself on the wall. He shook his head and slid to his ass.

“The weight of the sun.” He paused and his shoulders moved. Vampires didn’t breathe unless they seriously exerted themselves. “It’s at the highest point.”

Time of day could make it harder for vampires to move around? That was news to me. If this was him at his most vulnerable, then we were all screwed with me as the defense.

Ren’s head fell forward.

“Shit. Shit.” I combed my fingers through my hair. I didn’t have time to freak out when that was all I wanted to do. I yanked the quilt off the bed.

“Just stay here, I’ll stop him,” I said, wetting my lips. I’d try. I tossed the blanket over his head. It would hopefully give him a chance of survival if the man killed me. He looked like a mass against the wall. I didn’t know if the person was here to steal or what, but the fact that he brought a machete made it pretty clear that this was a full-on murder attempt for someone.

Two large samurai swords hung above the bed. It was closer to the ground, the style distinct to Tatami beds.

With my heart pounding, I hopped on top and reached for the handle of one of the dangerous looking slim swords. The cool metal settled in my palm and I pulled it off the hooks it rested on. The blade immediately thudded on the bed. I grabbed it with both hands and struggled to lift it.

God, this was not the time to rue my unathletic body. I swayed to the door, moving ungracefully because of the weight. Resting the tip on the floor, it immediately gouged into the wood. I winced at the destroyed flooring.

Opening the door, I slid out, dragging the weapon behind me while holding it with two hands. How did people fight with these every day? Imagine the arm muscles . . . and that explained Ren’s muscle mass.

I inched past the stairs and crossed to the right-side hallway. Jax’s bedroom door was open.

The broad shouldered man stood at the end of the bed, staring down at Jax. Oh God. He was a big guy. Bigger than I’d thought. Broad and tall and wide. A Mack truck of a human. But he stared down at Jax without movement. The floorboard creaked. In a sudden jerky motion, he turned on his heels. There went my element of surprise.

His features tautened and his blank expression became suddenly animated as he narrowed his eyes on me.

He lifted the machete and bum rushed me. My lungs seized and I scrambled to lift the sword as I backed away.

I managed to get it pointed at him as he came at me.

Maybe I had this! . . . the hopeful thought evaporated as he smacked the machete against the samurai sword. The vibration stung my hand and I dropped it with a pained grunt.

The back of his hand flew at me, and I rolled from the force of his backhand. My hip hit the ground, and I used my heels to drag myself backwards. The sunlight spilling in from downstairs fell across his face as he stormed up to me, giving me a better look at him.

Those eyes only held rage.

I used my palms to scoot back.

He bunched the front of my shirt and lifted me only to slam me against the wall. He was human and I still couldn’t hold my own against him. My head ricocheted off the wall with a frightening thud and my sight swam.

He crouched and grabbed my neck and pinned me to the wall. He slowly lifted me until my feet kicked in the air and my eyeballs felt like they would pop.

I dug my nails into his forearms, but the long sleeves didn’t allow me to draw blood.

He stared at me, watching me struggle. Taking pleasure in my frantic movements.

My face throbbed. Something dripped into my eye. Blood from my aching eyebrow.

I couldn’t breathe out of my nose because it hurt and the scent of copper tinged every inhale.

With his free hand, he lifted his phone and snapped a picture of me. Efficient and quick, like photographing a landscape.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and his free hand joined the one at my throat.