Chapter 4
Chapter Four
It was the thirst that woke her. The pain of her parched throat and the grumble of her stomach trickled through her consciousness. Thirst/hunger—for vamps it was one and the same.
Then the other sounds registered. The soft expulsions of breath in the air. The squeak of beds, close, probably within one hundred feet. The rumble of cars on a highway.
She licked her lips. The move didn’t help the thirst any. Nicole opened her eyes. He was beside her. Keenan’s long lashes cast dark shadows against his cheeks.
His chest was bare. His muscles strong and toned and his skin tanned a golden brown. The thin sheet lay just over his hips, barely covering his waist and legs.
Nicole glanced down. Her clothes were gone. Right. She’d figured that when she felt the cold air on her breasts. She grabbed the sheet and yanked it up.
And that thirst had her teeth stretching. Burning.
He was still asleep. So close. If she was careful, he wouldn’t even realize what she was doing.
Maybe.
Nicole leaned over him and her hair fell forward to brush against his arm. She could hear his heartbeat drumming. Such a strong, powerful beat. He’d tasted so good before. If she could just get a few more sips of blood, she’d have enough strength to head back into the night and disappear.
Her mouth lowered toward his throat. Just a few drops.
“So I had to promise not to hurt you, but as soon as you wake, you go right for my throat.”
She froze. Her gaze lifted, and she saw his lashes slowly rise.
He turned his head a fraction and met her gaze. “Hardly seems fair, sweet.”
She swallowed—or tried to, anyway. “You don’t understand the thirst.” For a human, it would feel as if the person had gone a week without food. So consuming. Overwhelming.
“I understand more than you can imagine.”
No, he didn’t. She wrenched away, keeping that sheet clutched to her as she rolled for the edge of the bed.
He grabbed her wrist in a lightning-fast move. Now it was her turn to freeze.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, but his hold wasn’t rough. His thumb was stroking her. Like he was enjoying the feel of her skin. Weird.
Sexy.
A shiver skated over her. “If I can’t take from you, then I have to find someone else.”
Now his hold tightened. “Going to seduce another human?”
Her head whipped back toward him. “Would you rather I ripped out their throats?”
“I’d rather you didn’t do anything with them. Humans are dangerous.”
She laughed. “Of all the monsters out there, I fear them the least.”
“Then you’re being a fool.” He still didn’t let her go.
And, great, he’d called her a fool. Way to sweet-talk.
“Humans hunted you last night,” he growled. “When humans realize what you are, they want you dead.”
“ Everyone wants me dead.” Why did he think she’d been running for so long? “I’ve been running from shifters, demons, and hunters like you ever since I became one of the undead.” And she was tired.
If they’d just leave her alone, things would be so much better.
But since she’d risen as a vampire, she seemed to have some kind of beacon on her back. They kept coming after her. Before she’d left New Orleans, a group of demons had broken into her house. Screaming, fighting, they’d tried to force her to leave with them.
They hadn’t expected her vampire strength. She hadn’t expected it either. But when she’d nearly ripped a demon’s arm from his body, the others had finally backed off.
“How long have you been a vampire?”
Not a growl now. A deep, rumbling question. His thumb still stroked her wrist.
“About six months.” She licked her lips. Thirsty. The sheet had dipped near his waist. She wouldn’t look down there, well, not again, anyway. “One day, I was your average almost thirty-year-old. I was walking in the sun, eating chocolate cake, drinking margaritas after work. Then…” She shrugged. A careless move when she cared too much. “Then one night, I became something else.” She wouldn’t talk about that night. The hunter wasn’t going to pity her and offer to let her walk away. Hunters had no pity.
“A vampire bit you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, that’s usually the way it works. He bit, I fought back, and?—”
“You had to ingest his blood in order to change.”
I drove the broken glass into his throat. Blood poured from the wound. On my hands. My face. My shirt. Nicole cleared her throat. “I guess I did.” She paused, and her hands clenched around the sheet. “His, but not the other bastard’s.”
“The other?—”
“There were two of them there that night. One who attacked and one who just watched .” No matter how much she’d pleaded, he hadn’t helped her. “When I fought back, the other one got out of there fast enough. He ran, but one day I’ll find him.”
“Will you?”
Her head jerked in a nod. “Damn right. And he’ll pay for what he did.” No, what he hadn’t done.
Help me.
Keenan turned his hand over and offered his wrist. “Take the blood.”
Nicole blinked. “Why?—”
“You can’t hunt. Those humans might have tracked us and if you go out to hunt, they’ll find you.” He paused, then said, “And if you don’t drink, you’ll just slow me down.”
“Uh, I don’t have to slow anything with you, we’re not?—”
“ Drink. ”
Right, like she was going to refuse a buffet. She yanked his wrist toward her mouth. Her teeth scraped over his skin. Her tongue tasted him and then she bit.
“ Nicole. ”
Her gaze flew to his face. His blue eyes glittered at her and, as she watched, a dark flush covered his cheeks.
So good. No taste had ever hit her like this, and with every delicious drop of his blood, strength seemed to pour back into her.
“Is it supposed to feel like this?” His voice was gravel-rough.
Was she hurting him? Her fingers were curled tightly around his wrist, but she’d tried to be careful when she bit.
His teeth ground together. “Your mouth ..” His breath hissed out.
Her head lifted at once. “Pain? I’m sorry, I?—”
Keenan gave a hard negative shake of his head. “ Pleasure .”
Oh. She hadn’t felt pleasure when she’d been bitten. Only terror and agony. But the men she’d tasted over the last few months had seemed to enjoy her bite, and?—
He pushed his wrist toward her mouth. “More.”
She wanted more, but there was always a price. “Do you know what happens when I drink?”
His eyes narrowed.
The sheet had started to rise at his waist. Aroused. Oh, damn, she’d meant to keep her eyes up. She yanked her stare to his face. “When they drink, vampires link with their victims.” Another lesson she’d learned. “The more I drink, the more control I’ll have over you.” Maybe she should have just shut her mouth. Having control over a hunter could only be a good thing.
But she remembered what it was like when someone else had the control. When someone else had been in her mind, forcing her actions, and yanking her around like a puppet on a string. I won’t do that to him. She dropped Keenan’s hand.
There were two kinds of vampires in the world. Those that had been born to the blood, and those that had been taken, like her. The Taken had been transformed, but if you traced the bloodline—the literal, actual line of blood that had been spilled and drunk—a Taken would always trace back to a Born.
And the Borns—they were the ones with the absolute control. They could link with every person in their sick blood family tree. Link and control.
The Born’s thoughts would whisper through his family’s minds. Slipping inside, weakening, compelling, controlling.
No, no, I don’t want to kill!
But she’d been made to kill.
No control.
She wouldn’t do the same to Keenan. No matter what else he was, he’d saved her the night before.
“You won’t have control over me.”
He sounded so certain that she almost laughed. But when she glanced at his eyes, she found his gaze blazing back at her.
“It doesn’t work that way for my kind,” he added. “Only one thing can control us and that one thing isn’t a vampire. Vamps have no power over me.” He stared down at his wrist a moment, at the faint marks on his skin, then he glanced back at her. “So drink up because you can’t hurt me, you can’t kill me, and you can’t control me.”
Her fingers reached for him and curled around his strong wrist. “Sounds like you’re my perfect food supply.” The words were meant to be mocking.
She lifted his wrist to her mouth and sucked the skin. Her eyes were still on Keenan, and she saw the flare of his pupils. Her teeth raked over him. “Too bad you’re a bounty hunter and all you want is to turn me over to your boss for a quick payment.” Because she was a wanted woman.
Some blood could never be washed away.
Nicole bit him. His breathing deepened and his drumming heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears as she drank.
Strength filled her. Strength and need.
Lust.
She’d never physically wanted her other prey. She’d just taken a few sips from them and hadn’t indulged long enough to truly enjoy the taste of their blood.
Keenan was different.
She licked him and stole away the last few drops of blood. Their eyes held. There was no mistaking the raw desire on his face or in his eyes.
“I’m not a bounty hunter.”
She lowered his hand. “You’re with Night Watch.” Night Watch was the bounty hunting agency when it came to paranormals. The Night Watch agents were often Other , too. Who better to catch the supernaturals than the shifters with their enhanced senses? The witches with their magic?
And she’d already been warned once by a Night Watch agent. Dee Daniels had sent all the vamps a warning when she slayed Grim, the Born Master who’d been controlling them.
Cross the line and die.
“I know about Night Watch, but I don’t work for them.” His head cocked. “I don’t work for anyone.”
Now her heart raced too fast. “But you said?—”
“No, you said. And I was hunting at the time, so I guess that did make me a hunter.” His lips twisted. “Of sorts.”
“What were you hunting?” Her fast heartbeat seemed to shake her chest.
“You.”
She jumped off the bed. The sheet ripped, but she kept a hold on just enough fabric to cover her body.
“I’ve been chasing after you for a while now.”
“Chasing me. But not because you were hired to find me?”
He shook his head.
Where were her clothes? “Then why?”
“Because you’re the key.”
No, um, she was a vampire. Not some kind of shiny?—
“I lost something very, very important, and you can help me get it back.”
—magical— what ?
He rose from the bed. The sheet dropped. Oh, damn, she looked. Very impressive.
Too bad he was crazy. “I’m not a key to anything.”
He walked around the bed and gave her a real nice view of his sculpted ass. Then he snagged a pair of jeans from the back of a chair. Well, that was probably for the best. He yanked up the jeans and kept stalking toward her. “Actually, I think you’re the key to everything.”
Her gaze searched his. “You’re wrong. I’m a schoolteacher. I-I?—”
“You were a teacher. Now you’re a vampire.” He shook his head and studied her a little too clinically. “I don’t know if that will make things easier or harder.”
Nicole started creeping away from him. “Look, I really wish you luck on finding your lost key, but I think it’s time for me to leave.” Her back bumped into the door. “Thanks for the, ah, blood, and the bed, but now?—”
His gaze flew to the door behind her.
Then the door shook. Hard. Someone was banging a very powerful fist against that wood.
“I’m not the only one who thinks you’re the key,” he rasped. “You ever wonder why all those demons were after you?”
“I just thought I had really crappy luck.” Even before her change, she’d been dealt one raw hand by fate. If the vampire hadn’t taken me out ? —
“Actually, you may be the luckiest woman I’ve ever met.”
Bull.
The door shook again.
“There’s a demon on the other side of that door,” Keenan told her. “He knows you’re here, but he thinks I’m just some human, so that means we’ll both be easy prey.”
She sidled away from the door. “I don’t care much for demons.” Not since that gang had jumped her.
His eyelids flickered.
“But I’m not scared of them,” she continued quickly. “I?—”
The door smashed as wood splintered beneath the force of the intruder’s blow. Nicole jumped back even as the demon shoved his way inside.
He was muscled and tall and had angry, pitch-black eyes. A demon’s real eyes were always black. The iris, the sclera—everything was black. But usually the demons used glamour magic to hide that telling indicator.
Nicole guessed that this particular demon didn’t care that she knew what he was.
“Vamp,” his voice thundered, “I’m tired of chasing—” He broke off. His eyes zeroed in on Keenan. And the demon paled. “You…you’re not...”
Keenan stepped forward. A grim smile curved his lips. “I’m her guardian.”
The demon’s black eyes seemed to double in size. “Bullshit! She’s a vamp, she doesn’t have?—”
“No one touches her, no one hurts her, not without going through me first.”
Oh, wait, that was...Nicole’s breath rushed out. Nice. But she was a vamp with superhuman strength, and she could certainly manage to handle a demon or two.
Even if the jerk in her doorway looked to be close to six foot four and made of bricks. Size didn’t equal strength. Not in this new world she lived in. So she stepped forward, still holding her thin sheet. Her arm brushed Keenan’s because their bodies were so close.
The demon couldn’t seem to tear his gaze off Keenan, and yes, that was fear in the intruder’s eyes.
She slanted a quick glance at her hero. He didn’t look particularly scary to her. Sexy and strong? Double check. Scary? No.
But he was sure making the demon tremble.
“You don’t want me as an enemy,” the demon finally said, but he made no move to approach them. Actually, she was wondering if the creep could move.
“Yes,” Keenan returned flatly, “I do. You and your boss.”
Why did everyone but her seem to know what was happening? Nicole felt like she was missing far too much.
“So go run back to Sam and tell him that she’s off-limits,” Keenan ordered. “There’ll be no more vamp hunting, not unless he wants to lose his demons.”
The demon’s head jerked in a fast nod, but as he stepped back, his gaze darted to Nicole.
Her breath sucked in on a hard gasp. Hate. There was no mistaking the hatred and fury in the demon’s stare.
Even as the demon turned and ran, she knew she’d be seeing him again. She also knew that if she faced him alone, he wouldn’t hesitate to go for her throat.
“We have to get out of here.” Keenan’s eyes were still drilling through that broken doorway. “Even in a dump like this, that crash would’ve attracted attention, and the cops are the last thing we need now.”
Right. She realized her claws were out and that burning black demon eyes were imprinted in her memory. “He was scared of you.”
“He should be.”
“ I’m the vampire, but he was scared of you.” She turned and caught Keenan’s arm with her right hand. Her left still gripped the sheet and held it just above her breasts. “Before I go anywhere with you, I want to know just what the hell you are.”
That same grim smile tilted the corners of his perfect lips. “I just told you, sweet, I’m your guardian.”
“Bull.”
He turned away, those strong shoulders shrugging, and her gaze dipped down the taut lines of his back. Golden skin, muscle, and—scars. Bright, angry red scars. Two of them—each about seven inches long—sliced right along his shoulder blades.
“What happened to you?” The scars were still fresh and looked damn vicious.
He grabbed a T-shirt and yanked it over his head. “I made a mistake.” He pulled another shirt out of a small gray duffel bag and tossed it to her.
She caught it, and her fingers squeezed the soft cotton. “What kind of mistake?”
This time he tossed her underwear—her bra and panties. His gaze lasered on her. “The kind I won’t make again.”
Right. Nice and mysterious and broody. Keenan was sure striking her as a broody kind of fellow. She let the sheet fall and saw his eyes widen when he stared at her naked body. “You realize that tells me nothing.”
He didn’t speak. His eyes locked on her breasts as he took a step forward.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned even though her voice had gone husky. “Guardians are supposed to guard, not touch.”
That light flush stained his cheeks again. “Maybe we do both.”
Her nipples pebbled. Down, girl. She still didn’t know him. Sure, she’d tasted him, but she hadn’t gotten so much as a whiff of his past or his current life with that drink of blood.
He could be anyone. Anything.
No matter how sexy, she couldn’t.
Yet.
“Why’d you strip me?” She put the shirt he’d given her on the table, then pulled up her panties. She took her time hooking her bra.
He licked his lips. “I had to bathe you in order to get the blood off.”
Nicole didn’t remember that. Actually, the last thing she remembered was that truck ride from hell. “Guess I should thank you for that.” She just kept on owing the man. At this rate, her tab was going to be huge. Suspicion slithered through her. “Just what all did you touch while you were bathing me?”
The bra was in place, pushing up her breasts. Yes, his gaze was still on them. Men—supernaturals or humans—were always the same.
“Not enough,” he muttered.
Her eyes narrowed.
“When I touch you with sex in mind, you’ll know it, sweet.”
He seemed so confident. But why did she see a slight tremble in his fingers?
He spun, giving her his back once more. His shirt now hid those scary red scars. “If we stay any longer, the cops will be here.”
“I can handle Mexican cops.”
He laughed. A rusty, rough sound. “Maybe, if we were in Mexico.”
Oh, no. She shoved her hands into the sleeves of the shirt and popped her head through the top. The shirt swallowed her and smelled like him. Her fingers rubbed the bottom of the T-shirt. “Tell me, please tell me that you didn’t drag me into the U.S.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome. When you passed out, I saved your butt and got you out of Mexico and away from the locals there who were out for your blood.”
She hauled up her jeans. In seconds, she’d found her boots. Nicole managed to shove her feet inside them just before he grabbed her arm and they stumbled through the broken door.
And, yes, sure enough, the wail of a siren was already cutting through the night. She stayed quiet while they stuck to the shadows and hurriedly jumped into the truck. They eased out of the lot, driving nice and slow, and cruised right by the black-and-white patrol car that raced into the motel’s parking lot.
Nicole waited a minute, then five more, and as the truck ate up the miles, she finally spoke the words she had to say. “I’ve heard demons recognize each other on sight. That they can look right past the glamour and see the monster inside.” Her nails tapped against the rough armrest.
The truck sped up.
It was the way of the paranormal world. Like recognized like. She always knew when she was near another vamp. She’d heard that witches felt the power pull of their brethren.
“That demon,” she continued carefully, “he took one look at you, and he got scared. ”
“Because he was smart.”
Right. “But just what did he see?” Nicole asked as she let her gaze sweep over him. “When he looked at you, what did he see that made him back off?” Not just back off— run away.
Keenan’s head turned toward her. Even in the dim lighting, she could see him clearly with her vampire vision. He had such beautiful blue eyes. Wait, those eyes were getting darker. Darker.
Demon eyes.
“I guess he saw through the glamour,” Keenan told her, his voice quiet.
Oh, damn.
She was in trouble.
Sam stared up at the night sky. So many fucking stars. Millions of them glittered down on him.
Humans looked at the stars and they wished and they dreamed.
He looked at the stars and knew they didn’t matter. The stars were just chunks of glass in the black sky. No, the stars were meaningless.
Others were up there, though, nestled in the heavens. Powerful beings were pulling all the strings and making the puppets dance.
Footsteps thudded behind him. Sam inhaled, catching the scents of the one who approached. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Demon. Elijah .
No vampire. Fuck. The bastard would bleed for failing again. How hard was it to bag one newbie vamp? The lady was so fresh she’d probably barely cut her fangs.
Sam turned around, ready to slam a burst of power right at the demon, but the fear in Elijah’s black gaze stopped him. And made Sam smile. Finally.
“Y-you never said she’d have backup.”
Because Sam hadn’t thought the vamp would. He’d worked so hard to cut her off from the rest of the world. Her silly little comfort system she’d had in New Orleans—ripped away. Her job—gone. Her home—destroyed. No family, no friends—they were all terrified of her now. No one wanted to be close to a killer.
When you isolated your prey, it was always so much easier to take them down.
“He could have fuckin’ killed me!” Elijah snarled, spittle flying from his mouth.
Sam raised a brow. “He?” His voice came out mild, as always.
“Him—yeah that fuckin’ angel that was at her side. And she smelled like him. Shit, ain’t there some rule about angels fuckin’ around?”
“Probably.” Undoubtedly. Another way to get cast out. Angels didn’t enjoy nearly the preferential treatment that the humans did. Screw up once—get ready to burn.
“And fuckin’ with vampires?” Disgust etched deep lines on the demon’s face. “What the hell?” Elijah didn’t much care for vampires.
Who did? And as for angels...
Demons were right to fear them.
Sam took a deep breath and asked, “You’re sure the man with her was an angel?”
Elijah’s head bobbed in a quick nod. “There’s no damn way to kill one of them, you know that!”
“Everything dies,” he snapped, sick of the lies that the Other chose to spread, particularly lies about themselves. Only one being was immortal. As for all the others... we can all die. Some of them just had the unfortunate pleasure of perishing over and over again.
Yes, life could be one fucking blast.
Elijah yanked a hand through his thick hair. “Well, I don’t want to be that everything. ”
Too bad. Elijah was already marked for death. Sam had seen the bastard’s end coming for days. Mostly because he’d planned it. Elijah had his uses. The demon was strong, evil, and usually ready to rip and tear. But even a killer had to die some time.
“Describe him to me.” There were hundreds of angels. Thousands. Could be any?—
“Blond, black eyes, with black wings that hung over his shoulders.”
Black wings.
“I didn’t even see the wings at first. They moved behind him, like weird-ass shadows.” A pause. “Just like yours.”
Sam rolled his shoulders and slowly stretched his back as he felt the ghostly flutter of wings that weren’t there anymore, not really.
Elijah hissed out a breath. “Weird-ass ... ”
The shadow wings were just an illusion. A magic memory. Only seen by demons or angels. Those who had the blood of the celestial beings in them.
Lucifer hadn’t been the only angel to fall. So many others had lost their grace. Or traded it for the chance to be like the humans.
No, the demons who walked the earth now weren’t puppets of the devil. They were descendants of the Fallen. Not as favored as humans, but not as cursed as most of the monsters, no matter what some of the zealots liked to think.
“Did he have any unusual marks?” Sam pressed. Who was he up against? You couldn’t fight a battle without knowing your enemy.
He’d been right. The vamp had been the link. The key. The Fallen had gone after her, just as Sam had suspected he would.
“No,” Elijah said with a shake of his shaggy head. “He was blond, and he had black eyes. He was one of them damn pretty-boy angels but...” The demon’s eyes narrowed. “When I first saw him, I swear I felt a cold wind blow right over me.”
Sam’s breath expelled. Perfect. There were so many angels out there, so many different kinds—some harmless and some very, very dangerous. He didn’t want to waste his time with the harmless variety.
“How did he act with the woman?” A freshly-fallen angel would be confused. Unprepared for the onslaught of emotions—and needs. Lust.
Easy pickings.
Elijah glanced over his shoulder. But, the demon didn’t need to check for a threat behind him. The real menace was right in front of him. Was the fool truly becoming a trusting sort now? Fatal mistake.
“His eyes kept going to her.”
Interesting.
“And he said he was her guardian. ”
Sam’s lips quirked at that bit of news. He suspected the individual was far from a benevolent guardian angel. But if that was the spin the Fallen wanted to play, then who was he to bust anyone’s bubble? At least, not yet.
“I’m all about killing a vamp.” Elijah crossed his arms over his bulky chest. “But I ain’t taking on that bastard.”
“You’re that certain he’ll take you out?” The demon’s fear was new. Elijah had never been afraid of a hunt before.
But Elijah was backing down. “I know death when I see him.”
Yes, Sam was rather betting that he did.
“We’re done,” Elijah said, turning away and giving Sam his back. Oh, bad move. “I’m sick of dancing on your damn string.”
Right. Same song, different fucking dance. “And where will you get your special brew, Elijah? When you walk away from me, who will help you?”
Now that stopped him.
Elijah looked back, and the struggle was clearly etched on his face. Like so many of his kind, Elijah had a bit of an addiction. Demons and addictions. When Elijah used his drugs, he could focus his thirst for blood and violence. With the drugs, he didn’t kill just anyone—he killed specific targets.
Without the drugs, women and children— everyone —became his prey.
Sam liked to think he’d been doing his part to keep the dog on the leash these last few months. But if Elijah was ready to bite the hand that had been feeding him, Sam just wouldn’t be able to play nicely with him any longer.
“You’re not the only game in town,” Elijah muttered and kept walking.
Oh, but I am.
“When you change your mind,” Sam called after him, “maybe I’ll help you.”
Elijah was nearing the top of the small hill, his body a dark shadow.
“And maybe I’ll just kill you,” Sam whispered, smiling, because he knew that the demon couldn’t hear him.
His attack dog would be back. Probably within forty-eight hours. And if he wasn’t, there were always other demons. Others who needed what he could give them. Others who were weaker, and so easy to control.
Demons came in every size and power. Some barely tipped the scales, those with powers between one and three. Those poor bastards might as well be humans. A power scale of ten was supposed to be the strongest. A level ten, or L-10, was the alpha of the demon land. So the stories said.
The stories were bullshit.
Sam glanced back up at the sky and all those glittering stars and he began to whistle.
It took a while for a Fallen’s powers to come back. The crash and burn wiped out an angel. This new opponent wouldn’t be at full strength yet.
It was the perfect time to play.
And time to see just how attached the “guardian” truly was to his charge. Would he kill for her? Bleed for her? Die for her?
One way to find out.
A star fell, blazing a trail across the sky.