Page 12 of Make Me Bleed (Sanctuary #2)

CHAPTER 11

DARK

I t’s not just the voice. Someone can mimic a voice and I could be fooled. Hearing him call my name in that desperate whine I know so well, plus the way I catch the slightest hint of his scent… I know it’s my former lover.

There’s an unwashed dirty element overlaying it. It turns my stomach, or maybe that that’s the edge of darkness—of insanity, of obsession—that colors it. No doubt in my mind that it’s Peter, though, which suddenly explains so much.

He followed me to Dyea. The constant sensation I’m being watched? Julian doesn’t need to be discreet; not when he thinks that just being the top vampire in the sanctuary will earn him what he desires. Hank has never hidden himself from me, as though he has a need for me to know he’s keeping an eye on me from the shadows.

But Peter? Stalking me, waiting for the opportune moment to get me alone… that’s all he ever did in Clarity. If, somehow, he finally figured out where I moved to after I left, I wouldn’t put it past him to do the same thing here.

Is that what happened to all my missing blood deliveries? It’s possible. For all I know, the repeated couriers might even be the reason he tracked me down in the first place. Conall has been insistent these last few weeks that someone is trying to find their way inside of Dyea. He admitted they were human. He took that to mean they were witch hunters, but what if the unknown threat is literally just a human?

What if it’s Peter ?

He’s not past the borders. The magic is keeping him out, but if he’s spent all this time pushing up against it, searching for a way in… what if he finally decided to sacrifice his secrecy by calling my name, letting me know that he’s there?

I know it’s him. I know it. For his voice and his scent to reach me, he must be just on the other side of the border spell. He won’t leave, either. Whether he knows how close he’s come to find me or not, it doesn’t matter. He’ll stay until he sees me. Talks to me.

Tries to convince me that I’m his …

But I’m not. I belong to Hank Barrett, now more than ever. I’ve already made up my mind that, when he finally comes back to me, I was going to tell him. I’m not just accepting him as my beloved. I’m doing everything I can to make him my beloved.

Peter’s voice does something to me, though. It hits me then that part of the reason I’ve built such a wall between my true beloved and me has everything to do with the trauma of my last relationship. I called it an arrangement to downplay how much it hurt when Peter betrayed me, accepting a fang from Delilah instead of waiting for me to give him one of mine.

I loved Peter. I honestly believed that he could be a good beloved mate. Just like with Hank, I refused to rush into anything. We were together for a year, creeping closer to me making a decision, when he decided he didn’t want to wait.

He wanted to make me jealous. It didn’t work. Peter’s betrayal just proved to me that choosing a beloved would be a mistake. I would accept the one Fated gifted to me, or I’d have no beloved at all.

“Elise. Please… I need you.”

My fingers tremble. So does my bottom lip. Hearing the same words he used to say to me over and over again… I can’t do this. I thought I could run from the human, but I forgot what he promised the last time I saw him.

I will always find you …

He did, but maybe it’s about time he did.

Maybe it’s time I end this for once and for all.

If it wasn’t for the moonlight, I never would’ve done what I dared to do. Knowing that Peter can’t step foot inside of the sanctuary, if I wanted to face him and end this, I needed to go to him. With his voice so close, it wouldn’t be that big of a risk, and if Peter’s insanity made him violent, I could easily disappear back inside the border, leaving the unhinged human to our head of security to deal with.

I owe it to Peter to try to talk some sense into him first. For the year we had before he ruined everything, I owe him that much at least…

Facing the trees, I hesitate. It’s not so dark, but the scared three-year-old I once was is pleading with me to go back inside. I try to calm her, and I mostly succeed. Something deep and unresolved inside of me urges me to take those first steps and, with a shaky breath, I do.

Back in Clarity, I was too used to hiding the real Elise to push back. Like the time that Peter cornered me outside of the Sanguine and Bridget—when she was just a good samaritan—came to my aid. She stepped up to him, fire in her eyes, and Peter retreated.

Now? I’m ready to send him running myself. I’m not afraid of him. I never was. I just didn’t want to bring shame on the van Duren, especially when I honestly thought Peter could be my beloved. I was wrong then, and when I send him back to Clarity, I’ll finally be able to walk around without that weight on my shoulders.

I breathe in deeply as the border spell crackles against my skin, telling me that I’ve left Dyea. His scent is still as faint, yet undeniable. I take another step. I don’t see him. I don’t sense him, either.

Is he really here? Or have I finally lost it?

“Peter?” It’s a whisper in the dark. “It’s me. It’s Elise. Where are you?”

No response.

“Peter?”

This time, a soft voice calls in return, but I can’t make out any words.

Tracking it, I use my super speed to tear off in that direction, searching for whoever it is. If it’s not Peter, it’s someone who knows enough about me—about my secret past—to lure me out in the woods. It’s not Hank. Our strengthened blood-bond has him further in the distance, probably sound asleep in his cave.

I’ve come too far to stop now. I fly through the trees, hair streaming behind me, my heels kicking clumps of mud and dirt up as I wind around the foliage.

My brain tells me to head back before it’s too late. My pride tells me that I’m Elise van Duren, and there is nothing out there that can hurt me.

I’m right. There’s nothing out there that can hurt me. Oh, no. It’s what is inside of me that I can’t fight.

In the middle of my run, a cloud covers the moon. It happens just that quickly. It rolls right over it, a patch of clouds so pitch-black, the woods are suddenly impenetrably dark. It’s black everywhere I look. I sense the trees, but I don’t see them. Before my eyes can adjust to the shadows, panic strikes and black spots form, effectively blinding me. My heart races. My pulse thuds.

I keen a terrified whine in the still of the night.

My fear turns me icy cold. Whirling around, trying to escape the dark, I lose all my bearings. I’m the wilds of Alaska, but as though I’m stuck in that child-sized coffin again, I’m just as trapped.

I spent days in that coffin, my little claws nothing more than bloodied stubs before my nanny managed to free me. My parents were visiting Holland, too busy to bring their fledgling daughter, and the ‘helpful’ human thought her vampire ward would prefer a coffin to a cradle.

But the lid fell and it stuck, and I cried myself hoarse for hours. I was too weak to escape, and she was too stubborn to find help to release me. Knowing I didn’t need to breathe, didn’t need to eat, she figured there would be no harm in leaving me in the coffin.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized she must’ve done it on purpose. It’s so much easier to tend to your charge when they can’t do anything but suffer inside a small box. Did she care that she left me scars that I carry with me more than seventy years later? I don’t think so, and considering her humanity caught up with her well before I could, I’ll never know.

I force myself to breathe now. I need to stay calm. I need to think .

Only the dark won’t stop, and that same old buried fear is clawing at my chest. I’m doing the same, plucking at my shirt, tugging on my hair, gasping instead of breathing calmly.

So I run. Like the day I found my mate and bit him, I run … only I’m not heading for the sanctuary. So lost, I don’t even think I could find it if it occurred to me to run home. Instead, I run hom e . Grasping my side of the blood-bond, I instinctively sense Hank on the other end.

Right now, the glowing mate bond is the only thing keeping me sane. The darkness, my terror, my trauma… I can shove it aside as I tug on that bond, following it.

Hank. I need Hank .

When I reach the end of the tie, I don’t know where else to go. The panic flares back up, and I notice that silent tears are tracking down my cheeks. My legs are weak. I’ve run too far, too fast, and I’ve burned through most of the blood Hank shared with me. I stumble, my vision swimming, as I fall under my terror, collapsing to my knees.

And that’s when a low, steady growl breaks through the miasma of fear covering me. Heavy footsteps hit the ground, bringing a pleasant warmth with them. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

My heart swells.

Hank.

It has to be Hank.

“It’s me,” he grates out, voice gentle yet restrained. Like he wants to roar, but he’s too afraid of frightening more than I already am. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You don’t have to be afraid, Lise.”

I want to believe that so desperately.

Still, I can’t help but whimper. “Dark.” I gasp out the word. “It’s so dark. Help me.”

“Anything,” he vows fiercely, dropping to my side. “I won’t let the dark hurt you ever again, my mate.”

As the darkness wins and I feel myself going under, I shudder in relief. Because I believe him. It’s the only reason I give in to my panic. I believe him, and I don’t have to fight the dark anymore.

Because my beloved will do it for me.

When I wake up again, I’m drained. Emotionally, physically… I’m exhausted.

I’m also the most comfortable I’ve been in a long, long time.

Wherever I am, it reminds me of honey and cloves. It’s warm, the air full of a masculine warmth that has me cozying up against the furnace at my back that’s responsible for most of the heat.

And I don’t mean a literal furnace, either, though the male spooning me is as big as one. Hank’s human body is wrapped around me, my head tucked under his chin, one leg thrown over my knees as he drapes an arm over my shoulders.

He has to weigh close to three times as much as I do. My beloved bear is still careful not to use his weight against me, so though I’m entangled in his embrace, I don’t feel suffocated.

I just feel loved .

I’m on top of a mattress that fits us both easily, with silky sheets that caress my skin. My heels are off, though my clothes are on; behind me, his chest is naked, though I can see his denim-covered leg pinning me in place next to him.

As always, Hank is bare foot, though they’re clean. So is the bed.

And that’s amazing because it’s stored along the craggy wall, hidden along the side of the cave that makes up his den.

It’s not dark, though. Blinking my sleep away, I see a large crack in the rocky ceiling over my head serving as a natural skylight. It’s wide enough to let in the sun, helping to illuminate the space. And if that’s not enough? The two large sconces screwed into the wall, hosting a pair of thick tallow candles with flickering flames, does the trick.

I let out the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

The dark is gone .

Hank chased it away. Even better, he made sure it couldn’t find me after he rescued me…

I remember everything about last night; the panic makes the experience sharp instead of muddled. Everything from Peter to the sudden darkness, all the way to collapsing just outside of what must’ve been Hank’s cave. If I didn’t, Hank found me anyway, following my frantic tugging on our bond.

He saved me. Not only that, but he brought me inside his den. I can see more details now. This is definitely his sleeping area. Apart from the bed and the candles, I see a dresser that looks like it was hand-carved; most likely by Hank himself. A pair of boots is lined up in front of it, proving that he does own shoes. There’s a mirror standing against the wall that I pointedly avoid, and a gap that must lead to either the exit or another cave in the above ground system.

I want to go look. Despite all my worries about going to Hank’s den and feeling trapped like it was another coffin disappear now that I’m here. It smells like him. It feels like him. It’s safe… and I want to explore.

Only one problem: Hank is holding me so close, it’s going to be difficult to escape his possessive grip.

My bear is heavy and warm. The best chance I have is to ease myself out from under his arm, then slide across the bed until his leg shifts and rests on the mattress again.

I get about three inches away from him when Hank grumbles sleepily, tightening his grip, tugging me up against his hard chest.

His hard chest, and his hard cock .

His body is reacting naturally to the feel of his mate in his arms. I know that. He snores loudly—he snores like a bear —so it’s obvious he’s fast asleep. Even so, he buries his face into my hair, inhaling deeply as though desperate for my scent, before his thunderous snore nearly deafens me.

You know what, though?

It’s nice. I’m warm. I’m safe.

He’s here…

There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.

About an hour later, Hank finally stirs awake. His body moves, stretching as he yawns, his arm still draped lazily on top of me. I wiggle like a worm, moving so that we’re face to face.

He smirks sleepily down at me, a touch of pleasure and pride tucked in the corner of his lips. “Mornin’, my mate.”

His sleep-roughed voice goes straight to my pussy. I’m sure he’ll be able to tell how wet he makes me. Then again, it’s only fair when the evidence of his arousal is poking me in the belly.

“You’re awake.

“Mm.”

“Good. You can let me up now.”

Hank pretends to think about it for a second. I say pretend because, a moment later, the heat of his hand sears me through my shirt as he pushes me even closer.

I huff. “I take it that’s a no, then?”

“I finally have your sweet ass where it belongs, Lise. You’re in my bed. Let an ol’ bear dream a little longer about keepin’ you in it.”

Well… when he puts it like that. “I wasn’t leaving, Hank. I just wanted to sit up.”

“Honest?”

Doesn’t he know? “Vampires can’t lie.”

“That’s good to hear. ‘Cause Barretts don’t lie, either, especially not to the female who owns them body and soul. A mating’s built on honesty, and I’m happy to hear we’ll have that to build ours on.”

My lips part, ready to respond to his comment, but then I realize I’m not sure what to say. Just hearing Hank so casually reinforce the idea that we’re mates… he steals the thoughts out of my head, and the words right from my mouth with his clear and simple statements.

When he catches on to the fact that I’m not arguing that point, he sits up. In this position, I go with him, though he does release me so that we can both lean up against the headboard at the top of the bed. Made of metal the same color as the walls, I didn’t notice it at first, and I hope it’s strong enough that we don’t eventually break it…

“So… let’s get the obvious out of the way,” Hank begins, ripping my new thoughts right out of the gutter. “What were you doing out in my part of the woods last night?”

Crap. Right on the heels of telling him I can’t lie, he’s going to ask me that?

“I was on my porch,” I admit. “I thought I heard something. I stupidly went to check, and then…” I lost my shit when it came to the dark. “I felt a pull.”

He studies my guarded expression. “The bond?”

I nod.

“Okay. What else?”

My lips thin. That’s all I have to tell him. Considering he found me, he knows there’s more… but maybe I want to ask him about what happened after he did.

“I grew up with a black bear for a Mama. I know that look. Stonewallin’ me, ain’tcha? What’s the matter? You don’t want to talk about last night?”

My cheeks heat up at how easily he can read me. “Not necessarily,” I tell him honestly.

He shrugs. “Okay.”

Really? “You’re not going to push me to tell you?” When he shakes his head, I can’t help but point out, “That’s not very ‘dominant male’ of you.”

Hank offers me a crooked grin. “When my mate was frightened, she knew to come to her male. That he could keep her safe. Whether it was just the damn dark or something that hid out in it, she’ll tell her honey bear in time. For now, I’m just glad to have her in the safety of my den.” He winks at me. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout you, ya know.”

My flush deepens. Yup… I definitely mentioned the dark last night. But everything else…

“Oh, I know. And… thank you. For everything you did. You’re right. It’s silly. At my age, I shouldn’t be afraid of the dark?—”

“Your age.” He snorts. “Sweet Elise, you can’t be more than twenty. And me, pushin’ forty the way I am. The things I want to do to you… you’d blush away all my blood if you knew the depraved things I have in mind. It’d be indecent if you weren’t my Fate-given mate. Even then, I’m robbin’ the cradle, but call me a fuckin’ thief, because you’re mine, Lise. And I ain’t plannin’ on letting you go.”

I scoot closer to him. “I think you forgot something.”

“Oh. What’s that?”

“That I’m a vampire. You look good for your age, but I look great.” I grin at him. “I’m seventy-four, and you should know, I’m not innocent.”

And he’d shift to his bear and head for the mountains if he knew some of the depraved things I wanted to do to him .