Page 20 of Fated In Blood (Nocturne Vampire Clan #1)

20

EVANGELINE

I stared at the swirling shadows marking where Blake had just disappeared, bile crawling up my throat like lava.

“What in the fuck just happened?”

My mind spun, trying to grasp onto my new reality, but life had changed too much in these past twenty hours for me to get my bearings.

I was a vampire. One of the very creatures I’d been raised to hate. I’d drank blood, had fucking sex, then been discarded.

But beneath the confusion, the rejection, the betrayal, lay a kernel of absolute truth.

I knew what had happened. The same fucking thing that always happened. The sins of my family had come back to haunt me, like evil ghosts I’d never be able to purge from my life.

I’d spent nine years looking over my shoulder, keeping my sister protected and safe, and yet I couldn’t outrun my past, not even here… wherever I was .

Naked, alone in some ancient museum of a house, laying on a cold stone floor surrounded by furniture—was that a fucking suit of armor?—that could have come over on the Mayflower. I closed my eyes and started scraping my cobwebby memories back together.

This felt like being trapped underwater. A side effect of drinking blood, from Blake’s brief, angry explanation. I’d fed from him. Fucked him. Given myself wholly to him. No, begged him to take me. I buried my face in my hands.

Fuck my life . Self-loathing and fury and regret shivered through me in a cold, slimy river of shame.

As it was, I barely managed to get to my feet, sore between my legs, knees shaking as I stared down the long, dark corridor where Blake had disappeared.

Head in the opposite direction, Evie .

Get as far away from that bastard as you can.

The second the thought struck me, my chest tightened, lungs contracting until spots danced in my vision. I searched through my memories for a clue to what this was and came up empty, except for one image of Blake rubbing his chest in the exact same place where mine currently ached.

Panic rose, but I shoved my fear back down. Forced myself through the breathing exercises father had drilled into Angel and me from a young age.

Right . I couldn’t be here, which meant I had to get back to my apartment. Take a shower. Wash the smell of Blake Marten off my body, his seed off the insides of my thighs.

Figure out how to crowbar my sister away from Tyrell, preferably with a couple bricks of C-4.

Definitely forget what had happened in the garden.

I searched through the closet in the entry hall and, wonder of wonders, found an ancient wool coat smelling of mothballs that hung past my knees. Sage green Wellingtons covered my bare legs, and once I shoved my snarled hair up under the hat I dug out of a corner, I was unrecognizable.

The big front door didn’t make a sound when I slipped through, before I crunched down the gravel drive to the main road and, on a hunch, hung a right. I reached downtown Thorndale midafternoon, streets already filled with drunken college students, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world.

These…children were my age.

None of them had seen half of what I’d seen. I hated them for their innocence, and at the same time was equally jealous. To be so at ease in this world, so blissfully unaware of its dangers would be a gift.

A group of girls staggered past me, taking selfies with their phones, and every cell in my body went berserk. My fangs punched out so fast I tasted blood, and even from ten feet away, I heard their hearts racing, the scent of strong perfume and liquor sweeping over me in a sweet-sour wave.

Before I was even aware of what I was doing, I trailed them down the street, my senses homing in on their rushing blood, their footsteps speeding up when they realized they were being followed.

Fuck. What was I even doing?

One of them turned around and I gave her an awkward little wave that was supposed to be reassuring but only made them move faster, ducking into the first bar they came to. By the time I drew even with the door, they were lost in the Friday night crowd.

Oh my God, I’d been… hunting humans .

Not on purpose, but that’s what I’d been doing.

So far, being a vampire sucked ass. I prodded the sharp fangs protruding from my bleeding gums. My empty stomach cramped, I was practically naked under this scratchy coat, and I had blisters on the bottoms of my feet from these slippery, too big boots.

I was close to home anyway, and once I was there I’d just…cook myself a super rare steak or something because I was fucking starving. My mouth watered at the memory of Blake, but I shut that impulse down fast.

What an asshole. Even if what he said was true…none of those things applied to me.

At least…not directly.

Angel and I had been raised by our loving, single mother, but before we’d gone on the run, our lives had been grueling hours of weapons training, poison lessons, and hand-to-hand fighting.

Monster hunting was the Silverwood family business, a generational tradition passed down from father to son, or in this case, father to daughter, except my mother hadn’t approved, and we’d escaped one night under cover of darkness, my mother nursing a black eye and a broken arm that had never healed right.

Fucking hell, I was in so much trouble here. Not even the safety of my shitty apartment brought me any comfort when I snapped the handle off the door and ripped the deadlock out of the doorjamb, since I’d lost my purse in the explosion and my car was still down in the park.

The city had probably already towed the damned thing.

The place smelled like stale bread, with something dead rotting behind the stove. I lifted my head higher and took another whiff. Mouse, most likely two days old.

How the fuck could I possibly know that?

But my stomach was a real problem, along with this driving hunger, urging me to go out and hunt. To kill. I tossed a steak into the microwave, set the timer on defrost, then went to take a long, hot shower.

I couldn’t stand to smell Blake Marten for another minute and my hair was a rat’s nest of snarls and leaves. I scrubbed myself from head to toe, washing off blood and seed and other fluids I didn’t want to think too hard about, anger ramping higher and higher as soapy water ran down the drain.

He didn’t even give me a chance to explain.

Just tossed me away, like I meant nothing .

Vampires were evil, disgusting creatures who could not be trusted, and I never had to see him or Riordan again. I wrapped myself in a towel and gave myself a clinical once over in the mirror, objectively cataloging changes, some of them startling.

For one thing, my eyes glowed, not the fiery way Blake’s had, more like the subtle aura of lightning in a thundercloud. My skin was unnervingly smooth, though I still had my signature freckles. I’d always been fit, but my muscles—my entire body was sculpted and lean, and from the way I’d ripped through the door on my way inside, I’d gotten a serious boost in the strength department. Definitely a check in the plus column of being turned into a vampire.

My hair was longer, shinier, thicker, and…I craned my neck to the side. Before my eyes, the small love bite on my throat disappeared. Good fucking riddance .

But… ow , my skin was on fire and even my best moisturizer didn’t help.

I pulled my softest shirt over my head—even that velvety fabric felt abrasive—and put on a pair of boxers, then went to my efficiency kitchen and pulled the steak out of the microwave. The meat was floppy, still frozen in the center, seeping blood, and I was horrified by how my mouth watered.

I touched my tongue to the surface, and while the blood didn’t have the sizzling power Blake’s did, it had…something. Maybe enough to knock the edge off this unrelenting hunger. Another lick and I was stuffing the thing in my mouth like I was in a competitive eating contest where the prize was a billion dollars.

I wiped off my chin, frowning down at my blood-flecked shirt.

Fuck. This was going to be a serious problem.

Steak was expensive. Shirts even more so.

And I didn’t have a job, not after I’d blown Vincent off three weeks in a row.

Sure, I was stronger, faster, could smell things I didn’t want to smell, but this tiny apartment was a cage, and none of these new skills would set my sister free.

I needed weapons. I needed a plan .

I paced around my living room, yanked the stove from the wall, pulled out the mouse, buried the little desiccated body beneath the spindly maple tree out front, then came back inside and paced some more. One thing for sure, I was going to go mad locked up like this.

A drink. I needed a fucking drink.

I ripped open my cabinets, finding the moldy bread, which went into the trash and didn’t remotely improve the smell of this place. I finally got dressed—my real clothes felt like they were made from sandpaper—then headed to Valentine’s. My blistered feet had already healed, which put another big check in the vampire plus column.

I gagged when I pushed through the swinging doors, hit full in the face with a mix of stale beer, semen, piss, cocaine, and perspiration. Okay, I so did not need to smell all of that. My new sense of smell was a big, fat check in the negative column, for sure.

I wound my way through the sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor and headed for the bar. I didn’t know why I’d come here, of all places, but Valentine’s was familiar territory and better than being cooped up in my apartment.

“Bourbon, please.” I slid onto the barstool, wincing at how my jeans stuck to the vinyl seat. “Two fingers, one cube.” God, being surrounded by humans— people —wreaked havoc with my mouth, my fangs protruding no matter how hard I tried to maintain control. Finally, I just sat with my hand in front of my mouth.

All I heard were the hundred racing heartbeats around me, and anticipation curled in my gut like a cat waiting to pounce. This felt like right before I’d go on a hunt, except…now the roles were reversed. This time…I was the predator.

Wait. No. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that.

“Evie. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.” Steve pushed my drink over to me with a grin. He was one of my favorites, a stand-up guy who looked out for the college girls while also being slavishly loyal to Vince, which was kind of an oxymoron.

He frowned, arms braced on the bar. “Vince will want to know you’re here. Especially after what happened.”

Oh yeah, the fighting. Almost forgot about that .

“Of course he will.” I took a long sip of my bourbon. “Let me finish my drink first, will you? There are few things I enjoy in life, Steve, and this is one of them.”

He swiped a dingy towel around the inside of an equally dingy glass. “Then you’d better drink fast. The boss man is heading out of his office as we speak.”

“Fucking hell, can I never catch a break?” I tossed the whole thing back, relishing the burn. There was none of that pleasant warmth that followed, my head every bit as clear as when I’d set foot in here. Must be a vampire thing .

I had a feeling I’d be saying that a lot in the coming days.

“Evie. Bold of you to show your face in my bar after that disappearing act you pulled.” I tried to keep my eyes on Vincent’s sweaty face and not the heavy gold chain playing hide and seek in his chest hair. “You’d better have paid for that drink, given how much you still owe me.”

“I paid.” Behind the bar, Steve pretended to wipe down the bar as he leaned closer to eavesdrop. “And I held up my end of our bargain, so now we’re even.”

I pegged Vincent with a level stare, adrenaline sending a fresh jolt of power rushing through me. “You wanted me to fight. I fought. Now I’m saying we’re done. If you expect more, that’s your problem, not mine.”

Where my newfound boldness came from, I didn’t know. Normally I didn’t give Vincent a lot of shit, because just last week he would have buried me out back for such openly bold defiance and nobody would have ever known.

My, how the tables have turned.

“ I decide when it’s enough. I say when you’re done.” I gripped the edge of the bar, barely concentrating over the frantic thudding of his heart, the blood rushing through his veins. I would drink this asshole dry, even while he disgusted me on a cellular level. A dilemma I definitely never expected to grapple with.

Totally predictable Vince pressed his lips to my ear. “Don’t ever forget how important I am in this town, Evie. You don’t want to cross me.”

Was that still true? Even if Vincent wasn’t the threat, he imagined himself to be. I had to take this down a notch, because I’d seriously underestimated my hunger and overestimated my self-control.

I had to get out of here before I did something stupid, like tore his throat out in front of a hundred people. I was wrong. Steak wasn’t going to cut it. I wanted blood. Needed blood.

Craved blood—even this hairy dumb fuck’s.

And seriously, just kill me now . Because if I came to my senses with my fangs in Vincent Valentine’s sweaty throat, my life might as well be over.

“I fought eight times, Vincent. You made at least ten thousand every night, so we’re even. Now I’m finished. Don’t worry, I’ll never darken your door again.” I was trying to be reasonable, but clearly, Vincent wasn’t having it.

His hand closed around my arm, fingers biting in deep enough to bruise. “What did I just say? Cross me and you’ll regret it.” Something about the entitled way he was manhandling me sent my fury spiraling out of control.

“Or maybe you will.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile since my fangs wouldn’t go back in, another check in the negative column. “Let’s not find out. You should really let me go now, Vince.”

“Yeah, uh, boss, maybe…” Steven interjected before Vincent rounded on him.

“Shut the fuck up and stay out of this.”

Steven shrank back and shot me an apologetic look.

“Who do you think you are, coming in here like you own the fucking place? But you’re going to learn…Yeah, you’re going to learn.” He dragged me off the barstool and jerked his head to Steve. “Tell everyone there’s a fight in five minutes. They can place their bets with the twins.”

I let him tug me along because…honestly, some dark part of me was hungering for what waited downstairs. The violence. The thrill of the hunt. The blood.

The fact I couldn’t wait to see what my new body could do.

No. Wait. I’m not hungering for blood, and this is a bad idea .

I didn’t know anything about being a goddamned vampire. There had to be some kind of secret code or something, given they managed to remain hidden from most of humanity, and until I figured out the fucked-up society I was part of—the one that included Laurent Tyrell—I had to be cautious.

“Not tonight.” I ripped my arm out of Vincent’s grasp, his nails leaving bloody furrows in my skin. Damn, even the scent of my own blood made me dizzy. “Any night but tonight.” I had to get out of here. Had to lock myself in my apartment until I figured out how to deal with this new me, because damn, I was completely out of control.

“You will do what I say.” Vince yanked out his phone. “Now get down those steps while I make a call.”

“You’re determined to go through with this?”

Yes, yes, yes , my hunger chanted. Give us blood .

Then I didn’t have a choice as Vince’s two biggest, meanest bouncers came up behind me, hands on their weapons. Their identical heads kind of melted into their identical lumps of shoulders, like nature had skipped the neck on these two.

“You either fight for me, Evie, or I’ll have these two take you out back and put a bullet in your brain.”

“Seriously? Those are my choices?” Vincent’s twin nephews were only loyal to him, and since I hadn’t exactly been nice to them in the past, they shoved me down the stairs. A week ago, I would have ended up at the bottom in a heap of broken bones, but vampire reflexes sent me soaring through the air so I landed lightly on my feet.

Okay, that was seriously cool . Another check in the positive column.

But God, it stank down here. “Did you dress a deer down here or something? This basement fucking reeks.” The twins trundled down the stairs like a couple bobble heads while I carefully stowed my leather jacket beneath the steps, giving it a fond pat. The old coat was the only thing of value I owned, though not the monetary kind.

This had belonged to my mother.

Angelique had gotten Mom’s looks, but I’d gotten the coat.

In short order, a steady stream of eager patrons filed down the steps, drinks in hand, money in the other. Bets were placed, none of them on me. Too fucking bad.

Vincent was the last to arrive, and only once I was hemmed in by the tight ring of people with bloodlust glowing in their eyes. Not a coincidence, me thinks. “We’re waiting for tonight’s opponent,” he announced, his tone as oily as always. “Should be here any minute.”

Waiting patiently while your head was on the chopping block was not easy. Even harder when you were trying to hide the fucking daggers growing out of your mouth and the fact you wanted to pounce on the nearest frat boy and shotgun him like a Nattie Light.

But I had years of self-control and training.

I could get through one ten-minute fight, though some evil part of me was tempted to set a record and make this a one-second fight, given how pissed off I was.

But twenty minutes was Vince’s sweet spot, and I needed to get out of here alive and still put on enough of a show I’d be off Vince’s radar for a few weeks. Long enough to buy me some breathing room.

I didn’t need to be on Vince’s radar right now, because frankly, I had much bigger problems.

Vincent—predictable to the end—was going through his usual schtick when my eyes swung to the pair of scuffed-up boots prowling down the steps, the wooden treads groaning beneath the weight. I shifted to get a better view over the crowd, all singularly focused on Vincent Valentine and his amazing chest hair.

The man’s bulked-up body came into view next. He was built like a warrior, muscled arms stretching the fabric of his coat, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. This was no soft college boy. This was a grown ass man trained to fight.

I could tell by how casually he moved for someone so big, like his body was a weapon.

“…biggest, meanest fight we’ve ever held here at Valentine’s. Last chance to place your bets.” Vincent waved his arms wildly in the air and the throng erupted.

Every instinct screamed at me to get out of here , but where could I go?

Those stairs were the only way in or out.

When the man reached up and flipped off his hood, I saw just how fucked I was. My blood flickered, like a jolt of instant recognition, every hair on my body standing at attention. Vampire . There was a goddamned vampire down here.

Then I lost him in the crowd, catching glimpses of the top of his dark head as the vampire made his way toward me.

But Vincent wasn’t watching my opponent. His eyes were on me.

“Surprise, Evie. You’re not throwing this fight. In fact, you’ll be lucky if you survive.”