Page 29 of Fated In Blood (Nocturne Vampire Clan #1)

29

EVANGELINE

B lake measured me up with a scowl, from my beaten-up tennis shoes to my too small, faded t-shirt. “Wow, and I thought my life was pathetic. Thanks for making me feel better, Slayer.”

“Fuck off, loser.” I found a fuchsia tote bag that had once belonged to Angel and stuffed a few more shirts and jeans inside, along with two pairs of underwear and my extra bra. “Your life is way more pathetic than mine. My life is awesome, because in the morning, I am going to kick your fucking ass. Then I’m going to save my sister and get the fuck out of here and never see you again.”

“Don’t forget about killing Tyrell. Kind of an important detail, since your success hinges on him dying.”

“Yes, him, too,” I snapped, glancing around for some small object or trinket, anything, really, that I would miss, only to discover there wasn’t a single thing that mattered to me.

Not here, anyway.

“Now I’m going to Valentine’s and getting my jacket.” I hoisted the garish bag over my shoulder. “I expect you’ll be coming along?”

Blake reached for my arm, and I jerked out of range. “Valentine’s is three blocks away. We’re walking. You so much as try to fly me anywhere and I’ll leave a bloody stump where your hand used to be.”

“Still thinking like a human.” But he curled his fingers back and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Lead the way, Slayer. The sooner we get out of blood bag town and back home, the better.”

“Blood bag town?”

“Thorndale,” he snapped, like the answer was obvious and I was an idiot. “With the college, this town is nothing but a revolving feeding trough for our kind. A bunch of walking, talking blood bags. Always has been, ever since the day the town was first chartered back in 1610.”

Was that why my father had mentioned this place ? My memories were vague, at best, but he’d definitely talked about Thorndale, usually with my Uncle Ezra. God, I wished I’d paid more attention to my father’s stories, but I was usually too busy trying to stay away from his fists.

I was the daughter of a vampire slayer. Every time I smelled blood slicked on a steel blade, I thought of home. Not the sort of home where a fire crackled in a warm hearth, but the kind where you hid in the darkest corner and prayed the monsters forgot you existed.

“Anyway, this won’t take long.” I closed the ruined door behind us, since the locks were ripped off, but that couldn’t be helped right now. Since he was probably reading my mind anyway, I kept my thoughts carefully blank about what I planned to do when I came back.

Whenever that might be.

After Tyrell’s imminent death, apparently, which couldn’t come too soon, in my opinion.

“Rohr’s going to have to put a block on your thoughts before you go anywhere near Tyrell,” Blake groused, following me down the steps that led to the street. “Or you’ll get us all killed.”

“That’s rich, coming from the undead.”

“We can still die, as you well know. It’s how we bite it that matters.”

“Oh, har, har.” But I really didn’t have a response to that, because he was right. It was a universal truth that nobody got out of here alive, but there were a number of ways to go, most of them gruesome. Far fewer were gentle, and when you considered the lives we’d both led, I highly doubted any of those were an option.

The streets were packed tonight, filled with drunk frat boys and giggly sorority girls, lovey-dovey couples holding hands, and horns honking in the busy street, my head spinning from the assault of sounds, and I was shocked to realize it was Friday night.

But the smells…cloying perfume and sour vomit, cigarette smoke and vape pens, and the bane of all aromas, Axe body spray.

“Fuck,” I muttered beneath my breath, but I kept going, because this might be my one and only chance to get my jacket back, especially if that decision was up to Blake the Snake. “It’s Friday night.”

“Your keen powers of observation never cease to amaze.”

“First of all, I died, was just turned into a vampire, and after that, we…” I clenched my jaw before another word escaped and I completely humiliated myself. “ Never mind .” I gave him the side eye. “It’s not like I’ve been keeping careful track of time these past few days.”

“Why is Friday night an issue?”

I wasn’t about to give this asshole a single reason to turn back. That jacket was all I had left of Mom and I sure as fuck wasn’t leaving it behind in Valentine’s disgusting basement.

I pulled my hood over my face and tucked every wisp of hair away.

“It won’t be a problem.” I wiped every trace of worry from my thoughts, stuffing my head full of all the happy, happy, joy, joy memories I could muster. “The bar will be packed and the staff’s too busy to monitor the crowd closely. I know exactly where my jacket is, and we’ll be in and out before Vincent even knows we’re there.”

Blake rubbed his temple. “Why do I feel like I have brain freeze right now?” he muttered. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, you vulture, except I’m tired. And I’m hungry again.”

I groaned internally. Note to self: do not reference said humiliating experience ever again in front of this asshole.

Talking about being hungry in front of Blake shut him up, though, and we walked the last two blocks to Valentine’s in relative peace. There was a burrito food truck parked out front, and we dragged in a cloud of that spicy, fragrant aroma with us through the front doors of the bar, which was rocking its usual Friday night wall-to-wall college crowd.

“This way.” I kept my head down, keeping the hood pulled up over my hair. With luck, no one would recognize me, though plenty of curious eyes picked out Blake’s hulking form as we threaded our way through the throng, my hope dissipating by the minute. This was probably a mistake. There were too many people, and why could I hear everyone’s fucking heartbeat ?

“Keep it together, Slayer,” Blake muttered behind me.

We’d reached the door leading to the basement when my newly sensitive ears detected a bloodthirsty roar. There was a fight tonight. A vicious one, given how rabidly the crowd was cheering.

On one hand, maybe we could hide amongst the chaos. On the other hand, the twins were surely posted at the bottom of the steps, taking bets and keeping the audience trapped until the fight was over.

Ten feet from the stairs, I came to a full stop.

This was a mistake. Already, my fangs throbbed with my need to feed, that insatiable hunger rising, the thud of a hundred heartbeats building to a thunderous roar in my ears. My control was shredding, even faster than last time, and as much as I despised my sulky vampire bodyguard, I turned and slammed my hand into his chest.

“We’re leaving. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Why wait? We’re already here.” He blew past me, never missing a step, while I scrambled to catch up, grabbing his arm.

“Yeah, I know, but the basement’s packed and Vincent’s goons are posted at the bottom of the steps. We’ll never make it past them.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. I thought you knew all our tricks, Slayer.” His eyes took on a wicked glint. “But let me demonstrate you know nothing about us. Nothing at all.”

The sight of the neon-lit bar—the loud, drunken crowd—disappeared into a wavy blur around us, the heavy thumping of the techno music becoming a dull, deadened rhythm, barely discernible, even to my ears. This was like watching a movie through a magnifying glass with the sound turned down to one.

“There. I put a shield around us. We’re practically invisible and you’re safe from Vincent’s big, scary nephews.” I glared at his wide shoulders, so fucking tired of being treated like I was a helpless liability, even though this was better.

“Why not do that before we walked in here?”

“Because I wanted to see how long it would take before you’d turn tail and run.” He shifted and his eyes flashed gold, like a predator in the dark. “How long before your hunger turned ravenous. I see your teeth, little slayer. Do try to keep those cute little fangs out of these children’s throats.”

He paused at the door, amusement dripping from his voice. “I heard your last visit didn’t end so well.”

“Not for Collum, it didn’t,” I snapped. “And if you don’t shut up, maybe this visit won’t end well for you, either.”

“You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.” When Blake opened the door, the roaring of the crowd was more like a hushed whisper, but I imagined without the shield, they were screaming at a fever pitch, salivating over two unfortunates beating each other to a pulp for their enjoyment, and for Vincent’s profit.

“I just need to get down there. My jacket’s beneath the steps. One minute, tops.”

“Lying baby vampires first, then.” The bastard held the door for me, and I slammed the pink bag into his chest on my way past, his eyes goggling as he wrapped those enormous arms around the fragile little bag.

“Hold this and I’ll be right back. Try not to lose my pathetic collection of clothes. They’re the only ones I have.”

I stomped past him and down the steps, buoyed by a burst of courage that grew stronger when I slipped right between the twins without them noticing. I dodged around a drunken frat boy, who splashed his drink all over me as he stumbled. I rubbed my arm.

Not even wet.

This shield thing Blake put around me worked like a fucking charm.

I wanted to have magic like this.

Wanted to be fast and strong and be able to dip into my bag of tricks any time I wanted.

My jacket was right where I left it, wedged between some old beer cases and a pile of broken chairs. I couldn’t describe my relief when I slipped my arms into the sleeves, feeling the soft, worn leather hug my body.

This jacket had been a big part of my life, and sappy as it sounded, every time I put it on was like feeling my mother’s arm around my shoulders. Plus, if I concentrated really hard, I could—almost—still smell her perfume. A mix of rich florals with woodsy hints. I zipped the jacket up tight, instantly feeling calmer than I had in days.

Mom had gotten me and Angel away from a monster. Hidden us for years, working herself to the bone to keep us safe.

Protected me in other ways, too. Ways I’d promised to never reveal to anyone. Ways that involved magic and dangerous secrets.

If Aurora could do all that, I could figure out how to free my sister.

That was when I realized the echoing silence wasn’t from the shield wrapped around me. When I turned and stepped out from beneath the stairs, what I saw rooted my feet to the floor.

The entire basement had gone quiet, every single person staring at Blake.

Blake, who should be as invisible as me. Blake, who carefully set my pink bag down on the floor beside him before straightening up with an arrogant grin as he faced a gleefully grinning Vincent…and Laurent Tyrell.

Blake, whose shadows spun out in a violent rush, only to be snuffed out like morning mist.

A very much alive Collum lounged against the far wall, glittering eyes glued to Blake. I didn’t know Collum as well as I recognized that look. There were years of hatred behind that pointed glare, years of planning and cruelty, and I edged around drunken frat guy, trying to get close enough to… do something .

A now healed Bosch flanked Laurent’s right side, and the twins were positioned at the foot of the steps, hands on their sidearms. They might look slow as snails, but those bastards could draw.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What was I supposed to do?

Every piece of me screamed to run, but goddammit, I couldn’t just leave Blake here, no matter how much of a cocksucking bastard he was. I measured the distance between me and Blake, and between us and the top of the stairs, estimating how quickly a bullet traveled.

We’d still have to get past Collum.

Have to get out of this bar and out onto the street. Past two hundred innocent revelers, high on tonight being Friday and the start of the weekend. Fuuuuck .

I was in a full-on panic when Blake’s eyes caught mine. Only for an instant, before they slid up and up and up, to that door at the top of the steps. Then his voice echoed inside my head.

Run, little slayer. You don’t want to see what comes next.

Collum pushed off the wall in a move so predatorial I sucked in a breath. “The mighty Blake Marten. I didn’t expect you to venture out of your little haven so quickly when you have a sweet new plaything. Where is that little bitch, anyway?”

I heaved out a sigh of relief around my bone-shaking fear. They didn’t know I was here.

Not yet, at least.

Again, Blake’s eyes flicked to the top of the steps, lines of annoyance fanning from the corners of his eyes. Fuck me, but I shook my head, not even knowing if he could see me.

“Freshly fucked and safely tucked into my bed, right where she should be.” Blake’s pompous, entitled attitude should have pissed me off, but I was too busy trying to figure out how to get us both out of here alive.

I could go after Collum as a distraction, giving Blake an opening.

I’d beaten him before, and I was stronger now, with the element of surprise. But those guns were a problem, and we were outnumbered with Bosch and Laurent in the mix. Why the fuck were they here at Valentine’s, anyway? Before my rescue mission gone bad, I’d done my homework, and Tyrell never ventured out of his castle. Ever .

“What are you doing in Nocturne territory, traitor?” Blake sounded bored, that lopsided smirk never faltering. “Last I heard, you were banished to the desert for being a cunt.”

“Lucky for me, I’ve been brought back into the fold.” Collum sneered and Blake’s eyes widened; the kind of surprise that told me this was a turn of events he hadn’t anticipated. “Laurent has decided Riordan’s caused enough problems. It’s time a real king took his place.”

For the first time since he’d learned my name, Blake dropped his hard-ass act. His fear bled into me, tangling with my own until they were indistinguishable. The combination was paralyzing, stealing the air from my lungs.

Run, Slayer. Get the fuck out of here and warn Riordan they’re coming for him. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.

He moved to his right, forcing Collum to change position. The twins followed suit, shifting away from the exit, creating a narrow aisle between me and the steps. The crowd stayed clear of the threat, huddled against the far wall, one loud noise away from bolting.

Blake’s inner turmoil raged as he lifted his brow. “And who would that new king be? Surely not you, you fucking piece of shit. You couldn’t rule a?—”

“That’s enough.” Tyrell stepped forward, Bosch glued to his side, Vincent watching all of this play out with the kind of focal intensity the greedy bastard usually reserved for big piles of money or a nice pair of tits.

“Enough of these games; enough wasting time. Show some respect, dog.” Tyrell lifted his hand and Blake jerked like he’d been struck. A tremor of pure power slammed into my chest and traveled straight through me, along with an overwhelming compulsion for me to obey .

To bow, to kneel. To submit.

I’d never experienced any force this profoundly dominant before, never withstood such a catastrophic loss of control, where my mind screamed, rejecting Tyrell’s control, but my body was softening, aching to fold and bend to his will.

I doubled over, trying not to vomit.

Blake was fighting Tyrell as hard as me, but even through the shield I heard the crunch when he crashed to his knees onto the concrete floor, phantom pain tearing up through my legs as if my own kneecaps just broke.

Shaking, I lifted my head, teeth grit, combating Tyrell’s merciless compulsion with every bit of strength I had.

This bastard controlled my sister, but he’d never control me.

And Blake…like he had his hand braced in the middle of my back, he shoved me toward those steps, toward freedom, pain squeezing my chest so tight I could barely breathe.

“Blake Marten, you are guilty of allowing your spawn to fight in public, to reveal our existence to the humans, and to attack her elder with no provocation.”

You fucking liar , I wanted to scream, but self-preservation pinched my mouth closed.

Ever so slowly I forced myself upright, every aching limb trembling from the effort, nothing but a bug caught between two mighty, opposing forces. Tyrell trying to keep me pinned down, and Blake shoving me toward those steps with unrelenting urgency.

These two were going to tear me in half.

Go to Crimson House. Warn Rohr. Blake’s rough voice shook from the effort of getting out those six words, of forcing me toward the steps and fulfilling his command.

My thighs shook when I lifted my foot onto that first stair tread, muscles screaming from the sheer effort of fighting against Tyrell, from Blake’s unbreakable control. God, Laurent was more powerful than any being I’d ever imagined, but Blake was equally determined to get me out of here, even if this killed me.

“You know what the punishment is, Blake.”

That was Collum’s gloating voice, and while I couldn’t turn my head to look, I winced at the meaty smack of a fist hitting flesh. Pain rippled through the side of my face, my jaw went numb, and the vision in my right eye blurred, then went black.

Collum was so smug when he gloated. “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this.” The next blow was like a knife to my gut, filling my mouth with a coppery tang.

I tried to turn around to help Blake, tried to make my body obey, but my efforts were futile.

My hand was on the doorknob when the crowd thundered up the steps behind me. I was shoved through that door by a wave of panicked, desperate humans, then carried through the bar and out into the street, where I started running toward Crimson House.