Page 42 of Fated In Blood (Nocturne Vampire Clan #1)

42

EVANGELINE

T he world was a fuzzy, confused mess of choking black smoke and blaring pain.

I was smothered beneath a giant blanket, where I couldn’t hear or feel or see. After dragging me out from behind that azalea, after realizing what I’d become, Silas beat me within an inch of my life. I was too weak to even put up a fight.

Uncle Alistair had summarily executed the guard, of course, because failure was frowned upon in the Silverwood compound.

Now I was staked out in the back pasture.

My only worth? Bait to draw out the bigger quarry.

I thought I’d been tortured before, but this…this was like nothing I had ever endured.

My wrists were nearly cut to the bone, a rush of warm blood leaking off the ends of my fingers, staining the circle of crushed grass dark red. That spot between my shoulder blades kept burning, the ribs on my right side were broken. My father had ruptured my spleen and most certainly a kidney.

But all of that paled in the face of my hunger.

Somehow, beyond the pain, beyond the humiliation of being captured so easily after my grand scheme to steal the dagger, my own hunger became my greatest enemy, devouring me from within.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t think around the constant demand to hunt, to bite, to drink. I was glad I was restrained, left to wither in the blazing sun and ensnare two vampires who would never come.

I’d told my father exactly that and he’d laughed, that smug little chuckle I wanted to claw right out of his throat. I would have, if I hadn’t been pinned to the ground by his boot.

My face burned when the sun broke over the trees, dark purple clouds speeding across a blazing horizon flecked with pink. My last sunrise, most likely, if I wanted to get all maudlin. Part of me was grateful I was here.

Captive.

Helpless.

Left to my own misery.

My father thought he was punishing me—and he was—but the bastard was also saving me from myself. I was so hungry I was a danger to everyone around me. I laughed at the irony, blood spilling down my chin.

I would die here.

If not here, then in the basement of White Chapel, while Silas and Alistair took me apart piece by piece, because my father wasn’t done with me, not by a long shot. No, this was just a taste of his cruelty against the daughter who gave disappointment a whole new meaning.

Besides, death in the sunlight was always better than death in the darkness.

I never would have met my end surrounded by grandchildren, listening to a happy family telling happy stories about their happy lives.

Silverwoods weren’t destined for happiness.

We existed to purge the world of evil, except somewhere along the line…we’d become evil ourselves. Of all people, Blake and Riordan had shown me there was life beyond violence. That friendship existed. That a better world was worth fighting for.

I laughed in my father’s face when he told me what his plan was, Uncle Alistair dragging out the chains and the spikes. Both of them, so eager to set their trap. Little did they know their efforts would be for nothing. Nobody was coming for me. Nobody cared.

They didn’t believe me, but I didn’t expect them to.

No one believed a victim when they were begging for their lives.

I’d gone to great lengths to cover my tracks, including swapping out Vincent’s car. Uncle Dante taught lesson after lesson on vampire abilities—including how far one vampire could accurately track a newly turned vamp through a blood bond. Ten miles, twenty at the most, since the bond was so new and unstable.

I was five hundred miles outside of that range.

Besides, after the conversation I’d overheard, I meant nothing to either of them. So I went out on my own, and look where that got me.

Blake was right after all.

I was worthless.

My biggest regret was leaving Angel with Tyrell, but maybe, by some miracle, Riordan would keep his word, and when Tyrell was dead, he would take all those awful memories away from Angel and set her free. That was the best I could hope for.

Evangeline. Little slayer. Stop pretending you’re asleep.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating. I’d lost a lot of blood. I was starving and the Vault’s poisonous magic had sapped the very last of my strength.

We’re here…

I tried to focus, but his voice faded in and out, spots dancing in my vision like starbursts.

…but we need a distraction.

That didn’t sound like a hallucination to me. They’d staked me out in the back fields of the compound, where my great-grandfather used to raise cattle. The barn was long gone, and the split rail fences had been replaced with razor wire, but I was still on Silverwood land.

I should warn them this was consecrated ground.I should… But I couldn’t order my scattered thoughts.

They’d come. Some fuzzy part of my brain rejoiced as warmth filled my chest. They hated me and I meant nothing to them, yet somehow, they’d tracked me all the way here.

Only because they’re going to use you, Evangeline , the pragmatic part of me argued.

Of course they came for you, they need the dagger.

The dagger.

Like drawing a heavy bucket up out of a deep well, I trolled through my memories, trying to latch onto the right one. I should tell Blake about the dagger, but everything was so confused.

I’d hidden the dagger in my jacket; we needed the dagger to kill Tyrell.

If my father knew I stole that weapon, he’d have killed me on the spot. But I was alive, which meant he hadn’t found it. Finally, I found the washed-out memory I was searching for.

I’d buried the velvet bag in a shallow trench between the azalea roots, covered up with dead leaves and loam, barely a second before my father’s malicious gaze snared me.

After that, my timeline got muddled. Alistair searched me, found the tiny glass globe, his grin stretching ear to ear. “Don’t even know what this is, do you girl? If you did, we wouldn’t have caught you so easily.”

Silas never gave me a chance to answer. Not when he had years of pent-up rage to take out on me. He beat his own daughter half to death by the side of the house, next to the dead guard, while Alistair, Dante, and Virgil watched silently.

No one stopped him, no one helped. No one ever did.

Which was why I wept when I heard Blake’s voice, when he told me Riordan was here too. I never thought I’d be so happy to hear from two people who despised me.

I vaguely heard an explosion, the roar of flames, and dimly felt a shockwave hit me full in the chest like a hammer.

Smoke charred my lungs and the world went dark. Maybe I was dying.

Maybe I was already dead.

A deep, echoing silence rang in my ears, and even the sweet smell of the crushed grass faded beneath the coppery tang of blood coating my mouth.

Blake was here. Tears pricked my eyes, hot and quick and without end . They came for me.

They’d be too late.

***

“Hang on, Vicious, I’ve got you.”

I couldn’t lift my head, couldn’t open my eyes, but that didn’t sound like Blake.

The cool, amused voice didn’t belong to Riordan, either.

But my savior was powerful, effortlessly bending the iron shackles apart, and the second I was free, I could breathe again. Big mistake. I coughed out a mouthful of thick, acrid smoke, my lungs on fire.

Hunger surged past the pain, past the cold creeping up through my limbs.

Whoever this was… he smelled delicious .

“They coated the iron with silver, that’s why you’re still bleeding. Slows down the healing process and shuts down your magic. You’ve lost a lot of blood. It’s a wonder you aren’t already dead.”

Definitely not Blake .

I wanted to crack my eyes open, I wanted to look, but I couldn’t even manage that.

He prodded my aching gums, and I snapped at that probing finger, but even hungry as I was, my jaw wouldn’t work properly. “You’re fucking starving. I can’t believe those assholes didn’t feed you. How long since you fed?”

I moved my lips, but nothing came out except for a hiss of air. I didn’t know how long it had been since I’d drank from Riordan, but that night felt like a lifetime ago. Three days? Four? Time was intangible. I couldn’t pin anything down, my heartbeats slowing to a crawl.

“No matter, we’ll get some sustenance into you, then you and I are going to have a talk.”

He pressed his finger between my lips again and this time…this time it was coated with blood. I swirled my tongue around the tip, sucking it deeper, trying to get as much as I could. His chuckle was equal parts humor and satisfaction, and my skin prickled in warning.

“That’s just a sample, you vicious creature. Enough to tide you over until I take you somewhere safe.” I went limp as a kitten when he lifted me up, cradling me in his arms, then the world tipped sideways, icy cold wind whipping my face, the heavy southern heat turned freezing—dry and crisp like we were in the mountains.

Water gurgled somewhere close by and the damp air was cool and musty, smelling of ancient stone and drifts of rotting leaves and moss.

My savior repositioned me until my head lay comfortably in the hard cradle of a muscled arm, the warm skin of his wrist pressing against my mouth, that pulse beckoning beneath my lips.

“Use those sharp little fangs and take a taste. You know you want to.” His deep voice was like syrup, smooth and honeyed and convincing. And I did want to, every piece of me straining toward the lifeblood coursing through his veins, keeping time with his steadily thudding heart pressed against my ear.

I still tasted the barest flavor of him , pure power coating my mouth.

His rough, calloused thumb stroked my cheek before he pushed his wrist—that thudding pulse—tighter to my mouth, my fangs denting the tender skin but not breaking through. I wanted to feed…wanted blood so bad…but I hesitated. I…didn’t know him.

I couldn’t even string together a coherent thought.

I should… wait for Blake. Or Riordan. I knew them. They were safe.

Despite my hunger, despite my savior’s intoxicating scent…something didn’t feel right about this.

“You are so hungry, Evangeline,” my savior crooned.

“ Starving . You have to drink if you want to survive. You’re bleeding out, you see. I shouldn’t have made such a long jump with you, but I had no choice, really, given the circumstances. Now you are dying and if you wait much longer, even my blood won’t save you.”

A few words got through—drink, survive, bleeding out— you are dying .

He was right. I was definitely dying. My vision was going dark; I could hardly feel my heavy, leaden limbs. My heartbeats were slowing, I was so hungry I could barely think.

God, his skin tasted sweet.

I could only imagine how delicious his blood would taste.

“One bite, love, and you’ll feel so much better.” His fingers stroked slowly through my hair, and the sensation was sublime. No one had ever touched me like this, so tenderly, like a lover. Surely one little sip couldn’t hurt?

I clamped down, my fangs severing skin and vein, blood flooding my mouth like thick, dark wine. God, he tasted better than I’d imagined anything could taste, rocket fuel and candy, so richly decadent I couldn’t get enough, power sizzling through me.

Greedy, I took too much in at once, spluttered, then grasped his forearm, fastening my mouth over the punctures and devouring him, eyes still shut. I didn’t know who this male was or even what he looked like, and I didn’t care.

He tasted like heaven, that was all that mattered.

And there was something freeing in complete anonymity, something reckless in drinking from a perfect stranger.

I didn’t have to please him or worry he might betray me. Didn’t have to care that my name was Silverwood or how I’d once been his enemy, because when this was over, we’d walk away. Easy. Clean. Strangers.

Wave after wave of pure power swept me away, pain fading, replaced by a hum of carnal heat spreading through me like a tidal wave. Ruined skin healed, broken bones knit back together, and I became acutely aware of a stranger’s hard-muscled body pressed tight against mine, his corded forearm shifting beneath my greedy lips.

Silas hadn’t killed me after all.

Damn, he was going to be so fucking disappointed.

And I was drinking… from a perfect stranger .

My eyes flew open to take in the most handsome male I’d possibly ever laid eyes on.

He looked like something out of a fantasy book, long dark-blond hair braided back like a Viking’s, light brown eyes rimmed with an edge of molten gold that danced like a ring of pure fire. His face was the perfect blend of handsome and rugged, and without the rough edges he’d be pretty, with his long lashes and strange, piercing eyes, but with such a strong jaw, pretty was the last thing this male was.

Powerful shoulders shifted beneath my hand, heat radiated from his body, along with the musky scent that coated my mouth, saturated my senses like a drug.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice pure, sensual suggestion.

“Who are you?” The minute I let go of his arm, he lifted his ravaged wrist to his mouth and made a show of licking the bite closed, long tongue working over the area far longer than necessary as that familiar heat settled between my legs and began to burn .

“You taste sweet, little slayer. I can see why they’re so reluctant to let you go.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

He tutted, some of the amusement draining from his face. “Well, at least you aren’t boring. No need to be rude when I just saved you. You can call me Mal. I’m a friend of Blake’s.”

No…there was something about this male that told me he didn’t have anything as mundane as friends . An air of reckless danger hung around him, tinged with enough malice my heart stuttered as I realized it was just the two of us.

Yet I couldn’t stop my snort at his ridiculous claim, fighting the aftermath of his blood coursing through my body like ghostly hands running clever fingers over my hot, aroused skin. “I highly doubt that.”

Mal shrugged, his eyes never leaving my face. “What you believe matters not to me.”

“Where are we?” Now that my head was clearing, I had the presence of mind to survey the deep, rocky ravine rising around us with the thin waterfall spilling over the edge rimmed by pines.

We weren’t anywhere close to White Chapel.

In fact, I doubted we were still in Virginia, and this looked like the perfect place to hide a body.

“Nowhere important,” Mal deflected. “What is important is this. I saved your life. Now, according to vampire law, you owe me a favor to be called in at a time of my choosing.”

“First, I don’t give a shit about vampire law, and second, that sounds like a load of bullshit.” I huffed. “I was hardly even dead. Practically only half dead from what I remember. That’s worth half a favor, at most.”

He shot me a dangerous, razor-edged smile that sent me back a step. Or did I want to take a step forward? Desire surged like hot, sticky syrup, my body caught in a tug of war between fear and lust. My nose flared when a breeze saturated with his rich scent drifted by and my entire body reacted, arching toward him like there was a tether connecting us.

What did this sneaky bastard do to me ?

I was all too familiar with the symbiotic connection between feeding and sex, but I’d only had a few mouthfuls of his blood and my body was already a throbbing, needy mess. When those piercing brown eyes dragged slowly down my body, I tried not to imagine what his fingers would feel like, plunging up into me.

“We could fuck. Or I can take my blood back,” he said conversationally, as if he’d read my mind. “We can start all over, if that’s how you want to play this, little slayer. Renegotiate terms and all that.”

Dread shivered through me at his soft threat, but I managed to stand my ground, hands fisted, wishing for a weapon. “The terms are this. I don’t owe you squat. You took advantage when I was half conscious.”

The charged air around me gathered, like lightning was about to strike, the hair on my arms standing up on end. When another flare of heat curled through me, I retreated, my thighs rubbing together and smearing wetness all over.

This was so, so wrong.

Fear and need shouldn’t ever get this mixed up together.

“I’ve been on my very best behavior, but here we are, all alone, out in the middle of nowhere. You’re still a few days away from completing your transition, do you really want to try my patience, Evangeline ?”

“Not particularly, but I don’t much like bullies, either. Mal. ”

His entire body tensed then a spectral mist formed around him, like he was bending the world to his will. Wisps of spun shadow reached out and caressed my face, forming ice crystals in their wake, melting onto my sunburned skin.

“You have no idea what I am, Evangeline. No idea at all.”

I’m dying here.

Because I don’t know when to shut up.

Those were my last thoughts before he sprang.