It’s then I feel the atmosphere around me shift, and I’m weightless once more. Darkness still surrounds me, and yet something incredibly familiar overcomes me; I can’t tell if it’s a sensation, or a memory, or what. But it’s something I know very, very well. I’m actually starting to get pissed off. Am I in the goddamn bathtub or a dream? Loss of control now replaces that surge of power I felt moments before. I have control over nothing. I feel as though I’m crammed in a recessed hole in the wall: cold, dank, spaceless. I can’t turn my head; I can’t move my limbs. I don’t think I have any clothes on now, no gauze, nothing.
The brush of a caress grazes my waist, my hips, and the familiarity of the touch knocks the breath out of me. I crave it now, and although I can’t see it, I want it.
Invisible hands move over me, and heat trails the caresses, almost uncomfortably. I can’t move, although I want to; I can only stand here and receive. A grip moves through my hair, pulls it back enough to tilt my head. The touch is erotic, exciting, and my heart pounds, slowly but hard. Lips brush over mine, moist, full, seductive all at once. The sensation moves to my throat, across my collarbone, while hands cover my breasts. Arousal soars through every nerve ending in my body, and a silent moan is swallowed by the deepening of this strange, weightless kiss. Hands leave my breasts and move over my ribs, and strong fingers dig into my flesh as the kiss consumes me. I know it, this mouth. I can’t place it. I only know I have to have it.
Those strong fingers ease from my hips and move down, over my thighs, and then, without warning, slide between my legs. I’m caressed there, right there, a seductive touch by an invisible hand, directed by someone who knows me, knows my needs and exactly how much pressure it takes to bring me to my knees. It makes my head spin, that sexual touch, and I gasp for air as the first wave of orgasm ripples through me. Then a heated breath replaces gentle, strong fingers, and that surge of power, that orgasm, crashes over me in tumultuous waves, and I feel myself slipping.
At once, I’m knocked backward, almost painfully, and my eyes jerk open. The water in the bathtub is cold; my body temperature has lowered. I’m in the guesthouse. Inverness.
My gaze lifts, and from the corner, a figure emerges from the walls. He stares back at me.
Eli.
For a moment, our gazes are locked. Wordless.
His pupils dilate, fixing on mine. He knows me. I can sense it.
“Do it, Eli. Do it now,” a female voice commands. Carrine.
He hesitates; then his features harden. His face shakes, blurs, morphs.
And he lunges for me.
I scream, not a girly, terrified scream, but one of anger, of hurt. Of self-preservation. He’s above me, though, so fast I don’t even see him move until he’s right at me. His hands go around my throat and he squeezes, thrusts my head under the water. I hold my breath and my eyes are open as I struggle. I see his face, all morphed and horrible, hovering just above the surface. My arms and legs flail. Jesus, he’s going to drown me. Where’s Carrine?
Then something grips me. Inside. Athios’s words. I focus, forcing all of my anger and desperation to one location in my body, at the very core. It bursts free, and I surge out of the water at him. He’s back against the wall now, and he lunges at me. I’ve never seen him so . . . horrifying. Just as we meet, he’s gone. I hit the wall. He has totally vanished.
“Riley!”
Noah’s here now, and he’s grabbed a towel and draped it over me. I’m lying on the floor, crumpled. “What happened?” he asks. He lifts me, towel mostly wrapped around my naked body, and carries me to my bed. Laying me down, he follows me, his head bent over close enough that his dreads drop against my chest. “What are you doing?” Noah’s voice is angry, raspy, and his eyes flash fear.
I shake my head. “It was Eli,” I say. A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow past it. “He was there. Then . . . Carrine commanded him to kill me. He hesitated, Noah. He knew me. I could see it in his eyes.” At least, I think he did. And I think he was there.
Was he? Really?
“Riley, Eli’s not a ghost,” Noah says. He grabs my chin and looks me over, brushing a fingertip over my cheek. “You’re scraped,” he says. “I walked in just as you leaped from the tub. No one else was in here but me.” His eyebrows pull together. “What else happened?”
I stare at the ceiling and exhale. “I had . . . an experience.”
Noah waits.
So, I semi-explain, leaving out the mind-numbing orgasm part.
I tell him everything else. Including my convo with Athios.
Noah’s eyes harden. “So you’re dreaming of Eli killing you? And you have fallen angel traits cooking inside you, along with all the other venom that’s making you crazy?” He shakes his head. “This is fucked-up.”
“I’m not so sure that was a dream, Noah,” I say, and clutching the blanket to my chest, I sit up. “I was wide awake when I came out of that . . . bizarre state of existence. I looked around, knew I was in a bath of cold water, knew I was here, in this guesthouse, in Inverness.” I grab his hand, and it’s clenched into a fist. “It’s like . . . Eli was part of the wall, part of the wainscoting. He”—I shake my head, dredging up the picture of it—“emerged from the wood. Almost like, I don’t know. He was camouflaged or something.”
Noah’s disturbing eyes study me with severe intensity. “Was your sex dream with him?” he asks.
I really have to think about it, and I hate that. “I thought it was him,” I answer. “I couldn’t see a thing. Total pitch-black darkness. But in my heart, I felt it was him.” I glance toward the en suite bathroom, and I envision the corner from which Eli emerged. “Now I’m not so sure.”
“Why?”
I climb from the bed, my arms holding the towel against my body, and I walk to the window and pull the drapes back. Something has propelled me to do this, and I have no clue what. But I do it. It’s midday, but the sun has disappeared, leaving the sandstone buildings and gray stone in a murky, dreamlike frame. Pedestrians are walking along the sidewalk in front of the guesthouse. My eyes drift across the street, where a single figure stands out and catches my eye. Female. Wearing a hooded jacket. Dressed in all black. I can’t see her face.
I don’t need to.
The building she’s leaning against blurs, and the figure blends into it. Or disappears. One second, there. The next, gone.
Whatever.
Noah’s now at my side, looking out of the window, too. But I know he doesn’t see what I just saw.
“What did you see?” Noah asks.
Tell him what you see, Riley.
I close my eyes, and the motion makes my chest rise, fall, and it hurts. I feel pain inside my chest.
Go on. Tell him. He wants an answer. Give it.
The words are cold, and I can’t help shivering. I continue to stare out the window.
And just in case you’re completely blind, he wants to fuck you, too. Always has. He thinks about it constantly. I’m surprised at his control.
I shake off his words and just breathe. “Carrine is stalking me.”
Noah grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around. His face is hard as he stares down at me. “What do you mean?”
I stare up at him, unable to answer at first. Inside, my stomach is flipping around like I’m on a fast-as-hell roller coaster, unable to stop.
You didn’t think that fucking angel was the only soul who could get inside your head, did you, Riley? You think because you fucked him, you have his powers, too? I’m here now. We’ll see just how strong you really are. Imagine someone cutting open your skull and stuffing a live beetle inside, then sewing you back up. Imagine those tiny little feet scratching back and forth, back and forth, over your brain and bones until you begin clawing at your scalp, ripping open those stitches just to pull that beetle out. To make the insanity go away. It’s going nowhere. That sensation is me, Riley. And I can’t wait to show you a few things.
Only the violent shaking of my sho
ulders brings my vision into focus, and I stare blankly into Noah’s eyes.
“What the hell is going on, Riley?” he yells. His fingers are digging into my biceps now. Painfully so.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt fear. I feel it now.
“Riley!” Noah yells again.
She’s laughing inside my head now, and she won’t stop. I drop my hands from my towel and clutch the sides of my head. I push—hard. My eyes squeeze tightly shut.
“It’s Carrine,” I say without looking at Noah. “She’s inside my head now. She won’t . . . get out. Laughing, egging me on. I can’t take it, Noah—”
Then, at once, she’s gone. Just like that. My vision, my mind, is completely clear now. Free of the torture. Free of the bugs.
Noah’s hand lifts, and I only now notice he’s grabbed my towel off the floor and is lifting it back to cover me up. With one hand he holds the towel in place, and with his free hand he uses his thumb to wipe at my cheeks. Only then do I notice the tears that have started streaming from my eyes.
He sighs and pulls me against him, and I let him. His lips press against my temple. “What’s she doing to you, girl?” he says against my skin. “What the hell is she doing to you?”
I’m thinking clearly now. I hate it, but I am. Part of me wishes I could just stay suspended in some kind of weird dreamlike state—a fantasy world where everything was right, going my way, and I was the winner.
That’s not my reality anymore.
I look at Noah, and the care in his eyes almost pains me.
Almost as much what I have to say out loud. Just thinking the words rips into my heart.
“I’m going to have to kill them, Noah,” I say.
Noah just stares at me. Speechless.
My voice almost doesn’t sound like it belongs to me. Sounds like someone else speaking. It quivers, breaks. More tears spill. “I’m going to have to kill Carrine and Eli.”
Part Five
THE NESS BOYS
But there’s many a slip twixt the cup and the lip.
—William H. Bonney, Young Guns, 1988
I’m not one who usually exhibits much control, but I’ve sincerely tried to respect Riley and stay out of her head. I have now failed. It’s been nearly impossible. So I have brushed off my failure and entered. What I see there scares me. The odds have changed drastically now. With Riley’s heart and her brain colliding, the outcome cannot possibly be a good one. There has to be an intervention. No matter the cost. Her life is at stake, as well as what little humanity is left in her. Even I can see that. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. Even if it means starting a vampiric war of epic proportions. Nothing and no one matters to me except Riley. Nothing.
—Victorian Arcos
Noah stands with his back to me while I dress. Surprising, I know, because twice today he’s seen me buck-ass naked. I guess the decency in the core of his soul rose above the perverted, sexually charged vampire in him.
“Not my fault you can’t keep your naked parts covered, Riley,” he offers. “Doesn’t make me a pervert. Not really.”
Trying to make light of the situation, no doubt. I try really hard to put Carrine’s words about Noah aside, but it’s hard. I can read minds, too. And yeah, I’m not an idiot. Noah isn’t only just a powerful vampire with the trait of severe seduction. At his core, he’s a man. I’m a woman. He’s attracted to me. And I’d be a liar if I didn’t say he’s not sexually enticing. But my love for Eli has always doused that in me. There’s no one I want more than Eli. I want him back the way he was when I first met him. Not this monster he’s become. Even if Carrine is controlling him. How much of Eli is left? Anyway, not once have I ever felt threatened by Noah Miles. Just the opposite. He’s placed nobility and a vow to keep me safe over any sexual tension he may feel. That takes strength of crazy proportion. Especially for a vampire.
Thoughts are crashing over me like violent waves, even as I pull on my clothes. Confusion rocks me, and I can promise you, I don’t like feeling out of control. Oh, hell no. Too many years spent like that. Now I like total control. Of myself. My thoughts.
But now someone else has been pulling the strings to my brain. Carrine and Eli. The other half of me.
The half I have to kill in order to survive.
I just can’t believe it’s come to this. I’d rather Eli had stayed . . . Jesus Christ, I can’t even think it. Would I have rather he stayed in that alternative realm? How can all this be happening?
After yanking a black ribbed tank over my head, I pull on a pair of low-rider army green cargos and button the fly. My hair is still wet and hanging in dripping hunks, trailing water down my back, when a knock sounds at the door. Noah and I share a look, and he moves so fast his form is nothing but a blur. Seconds later, the front door creaks as he opens it. Voices. Slightly familiar. I hurry down the hall and round the foyer.
Just as I step into view, my eyes collide with Rhine’s. The young lead singer and bass player from the street, from Hush 51. All of the band members are now trailing in behind Rhine, and stand in a half circle in the living room.
“How’d you guys find out where we’re staying?” I ask.
Rhine’s gaze latches on to my arm with the dragon inked into it. A slight smile touches his lips before he looks at me. “We’ve come tae help.”
I glance at Noah, who is leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest. He looks at me and gives a slight shrug. I step closer to Rhine, give the others a brief once-over, then look back into the young guy’s gaze. “What do you mean, help us? What is it you think we need help with?”
“Och, gel,” Rhine answers with a grin. A glint of mischief lights his green eyes. “You’d be surprised at wha’ we could help ya wi’. Sort of how ya helped us all quit smokin’. How ya saved all those people at Hush 51.”
“Aye. An’ how ya can run like the devil,” Pete says. A grin slashes across white teeth. One eyebrow lifts.
I narrow my gaze.
“Do ya ken where ya are, lass?” Rhine says with a very appealing grin. “You’re in the bloody Highlands. ’Tis no surprise tae any o’ us that your mate here is a bloodsucker, although it took us a while tae figure it out. Not like us tae take so long.” Rhine cocks his head and studies me. “You’re . . . somethin’ altogether different, though.”
I’m staring at Rhine, and I gotta admit, he’s . . . impressive. Young, but pretty stable. Solid and cut, like he works out. No skully today, and his close-cut dark hair and flawless complexion make those green eyes and dark lashes definite eye- catchers. His smile widens, as if he can read my thoughts.
Impossible.
I focus. Just to be sure.
Nope. Total, one hundred percent mortal.
Noah chuckles.
“What happened back at the club? I watched. Saw the whole bloody exchange between you and that bloodsucker bitch,” Rhine said. “Froze me solid, she did, but I could still see.” He laughs, and it’s a deep, scratchy, sexy sound. “She ain’t the first one we’ve seen, either.”
“Aye, we know that’s who’s behind the murders here,” Gerry says. He’s the shyest of the bunch, I’d have to say. Wide brown eyes and dark close-clipped hair, his face baby-soft flawless, his voice soft. But when he speaks, it’s listen-worthy. “We’ve seen plenty.” He grins slightly.
“We’ve killed plenty, too,” Tate adds. Not the shy one, I notice, and a little husky. Maybe even the class clown. His wavy auburn hair flips over his ears and his eyes are the color of dark honey. And from the size of him I believe he can kick some serious ass.
“Aye, and it’s been quiet for a while. Until you showed up,” Rhine says. “Fancy that.”
There’s silence as Rhine and I hold a stare-down. His gaze is locked on to mine. “You think we’re killers?” I ask.
Rhine doesn’t hesitate. “You’d be dead as dust if we did.”
There’s a little tension in the room. More from me than anyone else, I imagine. I don?
??t like a threat. I don’t like a pack of young human hunters sniffing us out, either. I guess I’d been so consumed with Eli and the female, and the other killings, that I’d totally misjudged Rhine and his friends. Even more so than simply thinking they were thugs.
They’re goddamn hunters.
I’m staring at Rhine, still trying to wrap my brain around it all, when Noah speaks.
“We don’t have time to babysit,” he says.
Just that fast, Rhine whips out a silver blade and is holding it against Noah’s throat. The others all have similar blades in the hands.
What the hell?
I’ll give Noah Miles some cred. He doesn’t morph. He remains totally calm. But I can see inside his head. Ri, this little prick has a fucking silver blade at my neck. Wanna get him off?
Yeah, I’ll get him off, Miles. Gotta hand it to him, though. He’s pretty quick. Might use him and the guys after all. And he’s not so little.
Get him off now, Poe. I don’t want to have to kill him.
I focus on Rhine, then the guys. Drop your silver, boys.
The clap of blades hitting the hardwood floor resounds in the room. Noah moves to stand beside me. It all happens so fast the guys’ puzzled faces are almost comical.
Rhine gives me a nod. “Aye, like I said. You’re somethin’ altogether different, lass.” He shrugs at Noah. “No hard feelin’s? Was just provin’ my worth, ya ken?”
Noah returns the nod in silence beside me. I cock my head, studying the guys. “What I don’t ken is what makes you think we aren’t the bad guys.”
Rhine smiles. It’s a lazy, sexy expression that I’m sure brings many a young girl to her knees. “Because you”—he casts a glance at Noah—“and he don’t add up. No’ tae mention what happened at the club. You both saved a score of humans, whilst those other two bloodsuckers escaped. And I can sense it.” He inhales, exhales. “So do ya want our help? Or are we wastin’ our time here?”
I glance up at Noah, and he gives a slight nod. I move across the room and stand directly in front of Rhine. His eyes flash interest, and strangely enough, I detect no fear. Not one ounce. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I’ve got to know more. We can’t have their young mortal lives balancing in our hands, especially when I don’t know what the hell is going on with my own psyche. I’m as unstable as Eli. With my gaze fastened on his, I grasp his hand and hold it between both of mine. His pupils dilate, just a fraction. Then I close my eyes.