Blood Reckoning (Unity City #4)

Chapter 1 - Ameera

1

AMEERA

I sag against the kitchen cabinet behind me and study Anson as he swallows down my blood, each bob of his throat filling me with hope. I swipe absently at the lingering tears on my face as I wait for the slight movement to stop and all the blood I dribbled into his mouth from my wrist to drain away. I’m too focused on the man lying in front of me for the foreignness of my tears to register or to acknowledge the overwhelming grief that led to them. All that matters right now is saving the man I love from true death. Not even the dark little corner of my mind that frets over the ramifications of what I’m doing is enough to stop me. I’ll worry about that later.

Anson goes still again, and I lean forward to take his wrist in my hand, then lift it to my lips. I extend my fangs and bite down, piercing his soft cool skin and drinking with strong, desperate pulls, meant to drain him as fast as possible since I’m not doing this to feed. Turning someone into a vampire is fairly straightforward. You drain them dry, then feed them from your own veins, again and again until it takes. If it takes. There’s no guarantee this will work, but I’m hopeful starting the process so soon after death will increase the chances.

A sudden gasp captures my attention and I glance up to find Samuel standing in the kitchen a few feet away with wide eyes. I was so preoccupied I didn’t sense him awaken, let alone hear him approach.

“Ameera?” he asks as he takes in the bloody mess splattered all over Anson and me, and Vanessa’s lifeless body lying nearby where I tossed it after snapping her neck.

I lift my mouth just long enough to say, “She killed him,” before continuing to drink from Anson’s wrist. I can’t take the time to explain more than that just yet.

Samuel’s eyes harden as he turns a baleful glare on Vanessa’s body. “I’ll get rid of her,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain.

I nod, grateful for his presence. He gathers up the body, along with the discarded weapon that killed Anson, and disappears, most likely handing both off to the guards so they can dispose of them. He’s gone so long that by the time he returns, I’m feeding Anson my blood again, and this time he swallows every drop as it drips into his mouth. Although the rest of him remains deathly still with his black vampire eyes open and staring at nothing. I’m as elated as I’m disturbed by the sight.

“What happened, Sire?” Samuel asks as he kneels near Anson’s head.

“I woke early and found her holding a gun to Anson’s face and demanding to know where my daytime resting place was,” I say. “He refused, and I stepped in before he could get himself killed. But he went after her when she took a shot at me. They fought over the gun and she shot him before I could pull her off of him.”

Samuel frowns and looks at Anson with sorrow in his eyes. He knows as much as I do this may not save him. “He’s a good man.”

Not that long ago, Samuel had nothing good to say about Anson Hale. But I guess I’m not the only one to change their mind about this amazing man. I’d find my progeny’s change of heart amusing under different circumstances, but all I feel right now is helpless fear.

“I know,” I say, my voice wavering as Anson continues to drink.

“What can I do?” Samuel asks.

“Help me get him to my room?”

Anson deserves better than lying on the cold, bloody floor where he was murdered. I want him in my bed and safe in my daytime resting place. Samuel nods, then carefully picks him up without disrupting his feeding. I follow along with my wrist held to Anson’s lips as Samuel carries him downstairs. It’s awkward, but I won’t risk stopping for anything.

We reach the large floor-to-ceiling mirror that’s the actual door to my room, and I use the palm scanner hidden behind the glass to open it so we can enter. Then Samuel crosses the room and lowers Anson onto the bed with care. I climb up next to Anson and let him feed until I’ve lost enough blood for my heart to stop beating. Then I pull my wrist away from his mouth and start the process all over again as I lift his wrist to my mouth.

“I’ll clean up the kitchen,” Samuel says from where he’s standing near the open door.

I nod, then bite into Anson’s skin again as Samuel walks out, closing the door behind him and enveloping me in a silence I usually find comforting. But this time all it does is draw attention to the fact that Anson’s heart isn’t beating. I didn’t realize how accustomed I’d become to the steady cadence of it when we’re together, strong and vibrant, just like he is. Its lack brings back the grief I’ve been suppressing since beginning the turning process, and it falls over me with an oppressive weight that overwhelms me, and the tears start up again.

I weep as I drink from Anson’s wrist, my tears streaking down to my chin and dripping onto his blood-soaked shirt. I touch his cheek and brush his hair back from his handsome face as my love for him aches in my chest. He still hasn’t blinked or even twitched to show any sign this is working. I tell myself it’s normal, but I’m still afraid. I wasn’t this invested when I turned Samuel, and I fear what it will do to me if Anson dies, despite my efforts to save him. What if I lose myself to the grief and become a rogue vampire who only lives by instinct and raw emotion? Who hunts and kills like a mindless animal? If that happens, I hope someone puts me down before I can hurt too many people.

I’m jolted out of my dark thoughts when Anson’s phone rings in his pocket. I reach over and pull it out, then look at the screen. It’s his sister, Amber Hale, calling. Bloody hell. This call would mean so much to him if he wasn’t teetering on the brink of true death. But I don’t dare answer it, even if I wasn’t occupied. What would I say? That her brother just died and I’m turning him into one of the creatures she fears most to save him? I can’t do that. She needs to hear it from him for her to have any hope of coping with it. But even if Anson survives, it will be days before he can have a coherent conversation and longer before it’s safe for him to be around other humans. So I stare at the screen until it goes to voice mail, then turn off the phone and set it on the nightstand. His sister is a problem for another night, just like everything else can wait to be dealt with. None of it will matter if I fail anyway.

Hours go by as I alternate feeding Anson and draining him, all the while grasping onto hope and suppressing the ever-present grief that threatens to smother it. Eventually, Samuel returns to tell me the kitchen is spotless now, and I remember he had plans to check in on Brianna tonight since she was in poor shape after suffering the Twins’ abuse for days before Anson and I killed them. But he stayed to help me instead.

“I’m sorry I kept you from Brianna tonight,” I say with a twinge of guilt.

“No worries,” he says. “She understands.”

“What did you tell her?” I ask with a grimace.

“Not about this,” he says as he waves a hand toward Anson, who’s drinking down my blood for the umpteenth time. “I just told her you had an emergency to deal with.”

Good. I don’t want him to tell her about Anson just yet, at least not until after tonight when I know if he’s going to live or die. I can’t tell anyone about this until then, and even then I’m not sure how.

“Do you need anything?” Samuel asks.

“Just for this to work,” I say, my desperation bleeding into my words.

“Anson is strong and stubborn, even more so than me,” he replies with a hint of a smirk. “If I can survive being turned, then he certainly can, too.”

“I hope so,” I say as I tear up again. “Because I don’t know what I’ll do if this doesn’t work. I love him so much. I’m not ready to let him go.”

Samuel nods in understanding, then glances at Anson and a slow grin spreads across his mouth. He tilts his head toward the man. “Look at his neck.”

I do and see that the edges of the gory gunshot wound are knitting together. The change is subtle, but my sharp vision can see it. I huff out a breath and my nerves settle a bit. He’s not out of the woods yet, but it’s something to bolster my hope.

Anson stops swallowing, and I take up his wrist and continue the process by feeding from him again as Samuel leaves the room to give us privacy. I continue the turning process on and on until the wee hours of the morning. Sometime close to dawn, I get another spark of hope when Anson actually latches onto my wrist the last time he feeds from me. I swear his canines are longer than they were before as they sink into my skin, and his neck wound is still there, but now it’s markedly better than when it was fresh.

I pull my wrist away when his mouth goes slack against the ragged wound he’s been drinking from all night. Then I snuggle down next to him, lying on my side as I study his features. His face is ghostly pale, but it doesn’t tell me if my efforts were successful. His black eyes flutter closed as dawn approaches.

I’ve done all that I can now. I’ve given Anson a chance at a new life after his old one was tragically stolen from him. And tomorrow night, if all goes well, I’ll awaken to a world that’s been set to rights with Anson Hale still in it where he belongs and my heart whole again.

“Please come back to me,” I whisper as I reach out to caress his cheek one last time as the rising sun pulls at my consciousness. Then I somehow manage just three more words before I slip away into nothingness. “I love you.”