I’m coming for you, he’d said the first time we spoke after that. I’d thought it was a dream, and then later figured he was just keeping up his reputation as a formidable protector of his people. Looked like we’d each underestimated the other.
“You’ve never asked why I offered to make you a vampire.”
The statement caught me off guard for more reasons than the abrupt change of subject. Vlad opened his eyes, the rings of emerald encircling his copper irises almost shimmering.
“I’m not changing the subject, in fact.”
I swallowed to relieve the lump that rose in my throat. “I thought it was because you’re worried my powers will kill me.”
“That’s a reason. Not the main one.”
He traced the scar from my temple down to my fingers before he spoke. “I offered before that, and if your powers killed you now, you’ve had enough of my blood to be brought back as a ghoul. You’d be no less immortal, so that’s not the reason why.”
“Then what is?” I asked softly.
“For one, most vampires don’t recognize our marriage.”
“What?”
He smiled slightly at my tone. “Vampires honor only a blood vow in front of witnesses, and you must be a vampire to make that vow. My people consider you my wife because I say you are, but in vampire society, you aren’t.”
Now that he mentioned it, Marty had told me the same thing years ago when I first asked him about his species. It also explained Vlad’s comment about this being our first ceremony.
“You want to change me into a vampire to make an honest woman out of me? How chivalrous,” I teased.
“Normally I don’t care about others’ opinions, but you’d only be granted certain protections in my world as my legal wife. That I care about, yet it’s not my primary reason.”
Vlad caressed my hand. My currents were muted from all the electricity I’d released making love to him, so only a faint crackle remained. That didn’t compare to the jolt I felt at the sudden intensity in his gaze.
“I despise flowery speech since those who use it are usually guilty of the worst betrayals later. That and the type of life I’ve lived have made me incapable of saying the pretty words you deserve to hear, yet if I made you a vampire, you’d feel my emotions as clearly as I hear your thoughts now.”
Then he drew my hand to his chest, placing it over his heart.
“I never turned any of my previous lovers because I didn’t want them to feel how little I cared. You I loved, yet you left me because I wouldn’t verbalize my emotions. That will probably happen again, but if you could feel what you mean to me, Leila”—his voice deepened—“words wouldn’t matter.”
His heart was silent beneath my hand. It had been that way for centuries, yet Vlad was more alive than anyone I’d met. He was also the most complex man I knew, so the thought of peeling away his layers through connection to his emotions filled me with voracious longing. I wanted to know his feelings, his secrets, and everything else that made up the man I loved. But as much as I wanted that, it wasn’t enough to make me say yes.
I touched my own chest. The steady beats beneath my hand kept me alive, yet they weren’t the sum of living. My abilities had taught me that. Instead, heartbeats were only the sum of humanity. Love and hate, passion and pain, strength and stumbling, despair and forgiveness—that was living, so the real question was, how did I want to live? As a human who needed to drink vampire blood? Or a vampire who needed to drink human blood? Both came with their share of heartache and bliss, yet when I thought of my future, only one seemed the right path.
I rolled on top of Vlad, brushing his hair back so I could see every nuance of his expression when I gave him my answer.
“This word matters. Yes, Vlad. The answer is yes.”
Vlad was gone when I awoke, but it wasn’t a surprise this time. Before I fell asleep, he’d said he was meeting with Mencheres this morning to begin tightening the noose around the traitor. Since Vlad already had all calls, texts, and e-mails monitored, plus his staff wasn’t allowed to leave, under the pretense of continued wedding celebrations, I couldn’t imagine how he’d further clamp things down, but he must have a plan. I’d find out what it was once he was back.
Until then, I had some issues of my own to take care of, like telling my family about my decision. I wasn’t going to take the undead plunge today, but I also saw no reason to put it off for months or years. Between my abilities plus living with two different vampires, there was little I didn’t know about what I was getting into. Hell, compared to how my accident had changed my life, turning into a vampire wouldn’t even be the biggest transition I’d ever undergone.
I got out of bed, my foot catching on something soft as I headed toward the bathroom. Vlad’s shirt. I caught it after an upward kick and then began to pick up the other clothes strewn around the room. He might be used to having servants clean up after him, but I wasn’t. When I got to my turquoise skirt, however, the lumpiness in its pocket made me pause.
My stolen stash was still there. When Vlad ripped this off me, I thought its contents would’ve scattered. Feeling the items through the material filled me with the same temptation Pandora must’ve experienced when she stroked that box. Was the traitor’s identity locked inside one of these? Or were these items the gateway to me losing my mortality sooner than I’d intended?
The idea of eating the occasional meal of “long pig” as a ghoul wasn’t appealing, but how could I shy away from avenging the deaths of everyone at the carnival plus protecting those here? I hadn’t suffered any ill effects from using my powers yesterday. Maybe I still had so much of Vlad’s blood in me that it countered the damage my powers caused. For now, anyway.
There was another reason I shouldn’t wait. Changing into a vampire could wipe out my psychic abilities altogether. At the very least, it could put them out of commission for a long time. This might be the only chance I had to discover who’d betrayed Vlad before anyone else got hurt—or worse.
I can’t stop you from doing what you feel you must, Vlad had said, while warning me about what he’d do if he found out. I drew in a long, slow breath before taking off my right glove.
I must.
Then I plunged my bare hand into the pocket. Images overtook me as I touched all the items at once. Through the fast-forward-type reenactment of several staff members, one person stuck out, and it was the last person I expected to see.
What was Sandra doing in there?
Chapter 33
Vlad gave me a look of such suspicion that, had I been anyone else, I’d expect it to be followed by interrogation.
“You want to go shopping?” he repeated.
“Yes,” I said, and it was the absolute truth. “Come on, nothing I’m wearing even belongs to me—”
“They do, those clothes are new,” he cut me off.
“—and you did everything for our wedding down to picking out your own ring. Even if I didn’t want to buy a few things for myself, which I do, I also want to get you something. If you go with me, it won’t be much of a surprise, will it?”
That earned me another what-are-you-really-up-to look, but my thoughts agreed with my words and my expression wouldn’t have been more innocent if I’d borrowed it from an angel.
“Come on, you own the town we’re going to,” I added. “It’s not like I want to borrow the jet for a quick jaunt to Paris.”
From his expression, he was weighing his misgivings against the time-tested truism that women liked to shop.
“Guards will accompany you,” he said at last.
“Of course. I’m bringing Gretchen and Sandra, too.”
He waved a hand, humans not concerning him. Inwardly I smiled, but continued to think of nothing aside from clothing, shoes, and sexy lingerie. From the flare to his nostrils, that last one pleased him.
“I’ll have your escort ready to leave in twenty minutes.”
Then he leaned down, his stubble grazing my cheek as he murm
ured, “Don’t bother getting me anything. You’re all I want.”
I didn’t hold back my smile this time. And you say you’re not good with pretty words.
“I won’t be long,” I promised.
Twenty minutes later Sandra, Gretchen, and I piled into the back of the limo. Shrapnel drove, since with Maximus gone, he’d moved into the position of Vlad’s right-hand man. Oscar rode shotgun, and four more guards followed us in another vehicle.
“What’s with the entourage?” Gretchen asked. I shrugged as if I had no idea.
“As the voivode’s wife, guards are expected,” Sandra said.
“What’s voya-voda mean?” Gretchen asked, sounding it out.
“Prince, basically,” I replied. “Voivode was Vlad’s title back in the day.”
My sister slanted a grin at me. “So you’re a princess now?”
“No,” I said at the same time that Sandra said, “Yes.”
“No,” I repeated more firmly. “I already get bowed to. If anyone calls me Your Highness, my head might explode.”
Sandra laughed, finger-combing her strawberry blonde hair. “If I were a princess, I would insist on it. And on a crown.”
Would you? I thought coolly, but smiled as if it were a joke. “Romanians are used to royalty. Americans, not so much.”
The limo slanted as we began descending the hill. I glanced out the window in time to see the top of the mansion disappear behind a wall of trees and rock. We wouldn’t see much beyond those two things for the next thirty minutes. This was the only road leading to town, and no one but Vlad’s people used it.
Gretchen continued to chatter on about how if I was a princess, then that made her famous, too. Like Kate Middleton’s sister, Pippa. I didn’t bother telling her that no one outside of really old Romanian vampires or Vlad’s people considered him a prince. Why spoil her daydreams sooner than I had to?
I waited until we were midway between Vlad’s house and the town before I made my move. I hadn’t done anything before in case Sandra had been in the communications room because one of the staff was hungry. If Vlad knew I had the slightest suspicion about her, he’d employ his methods for finding out the truth, and I wouldn’t do that to a friend when I could get the same results without emotional or physical scars.
So once Vlad was too far away to read my thoughts and Sandra couldn’t escape with Shrapnel speeding around corners with a vampire’s usual disregard for the steep terrain, I smiled at Sandra, took off my right glove, and laid my hand on her arm.
The shriek she let out at the voltage coursing into her was lost under the instant swarm of images.
I’d just fallen asleep when the sound of my door closing startled me into wakefulness. A dark shadow contrasted against the cotton candy–colored pink walls, and when it came closer, moonlight revealed a vampire I recognized at once.
“What are you doing here?” My voice was thicker from drowsiness. “I’m not on the feeding schedule tonight.”
He didn’t speak, but continued to come toward me. For some reason, fear threaded through my emotions. That made no sense. Vlad wouldn’t stand for us to be ill treated and I’d fed this vampire many times before. Yet when he reached the bed, I shrank back, a bone-deep instinct overruling my logic.
Not again! I wanted to shriek, yet I still didn’t know why. Then terror and guilt rose, the sensations both sickeningly familiar and overwhelming. Before I could speak, an emerald glow blinded me. At once, my concerns vanished. As the vampire whispered his instructions, I found myself nodding. Of course I would relay his message, and I had a message for him, too . . .
Gretchen’s scream yanked me back before the last images faded. For a moment, I hung suspended between Sandra’s mentality and my own. That’s why I didn’t react when the vampire in the front seat held up the small device even though I knew what it was. I’d seen one of those before, and while it was no bigger than a cell phone, its presence meant death.
Then the final ties to Sandra’s memory dropped. White light suffused my hand as I snapped a current toward the front seat, but it was too late. Shrapnel pushed the button on the detonator the instant before my whip cut through him.
The subsequent boom! shook the limo, but we didn’t explode. The car behind us did, and the sudden fireball claimed my attention for a few costly seconds. Long enough for Shrapnel to yank the steering wheel to the left, aiming our speeding vehicle right at the guardrail before he bailed out the door.
Gretchen’s scream as we hurtled over the cliff was the last thing I heard before everything went black.
Blood.
Its taste flavored my mouth while its coppery scent hung in the air. I swallowed, expecting the pain radiating through me to vanish, yet it didn’t. That’s when I realized I wasn’t swallowing vampire blood for healing. It was my own.
I forced my eyes open even though it felt like razors had replaced my eyelids. Then what I saw made me forget the pain. Gretchen hung above me, her black hair hiding her face, red drips falling onto the smashed glass that surrounded me. Sandra was also suspended by her seat belt, her blood flowing in a thicker trail. Between us was a thick tree branch, of all things, its leaves spattered with crimson.
Why aren’t we dead? was my first thought, followed immediately by Where’s Shrapnel? I sat up, trying not to scream from the pain. A glance at the front of the limo showed the driver’s side was empty. The passenger side wasn’t. Oscar’s pale face had an expression of shock that even his rapidly mummifying skin couldn’t erase. He was also suspended upside down by his seat belt in the flipped limo, the hilt of a silver knife buried in his chest.
I lurched toward that knife, sending more fiery arcs through my body. It felt like my ribs, collarbone, and left arm were fractured, plus I had more cuts than I could count from all the broken glass. Still, I was lucky. Without the side and front air bags, I’d be dead. I hadn’t been wearing a seat belt since I wanted to grab Sandra in case she tried anything. Little did I know the danger came from the front seat, not the back.
Grunts of agony escaped me as I hoisted myself over the broken glass into the front of the limo. Once there, I saw through the smashed windshield that a tree had stopped our descent down the cliff. That was the good news. The bad news was the orange flickers licking up the underside of the hood.
I yanked the knife from Oscar’s body, intending to cut the seat belts from Gretchen and Sandra, when noise outside made me freeze. Someone was coming, and I wasn’t naive enough to think it was rescuers.
I licked the blood-coated knife so fast that I cut my tongue, but before that pain fully registered, it vanished. In the seconds it took me to lick the other side, my whole body hurt less. By the time Shrapnel ripped off the passenger side door, I was crouched in front of Gretchen and Sandra, holding the knife in one hand while electricity crackled from the other. He immediately leapt back several feet, body tensed to dodge anything I aimed at him.
“Why?” I spat.
Half of his shirt and jacket hung in tatters, the red-stained slash showing where my whip had penetrated. Despite the severity of the wound, it hadn’t killed him. It had only slowed him until he healed enough to come back and finish the job.
“Because now you know,” he said in a hard voice.
“I don’t mean this,” I said, a jerk of my head indicating the ruined limousine. “Why did you betray Vlad?”
“I didn’t intend to.”
Now his voice was almost a whisper. Despair skipped across his mocha features, followed by weary resolve.
“None of this was supposed to happen. You think I wanted to kill my friends in that car? I don’t even want to kill you, but I have no choice.”
I raised my right hand higher. “You so much as twitch and I’ll cut you in half for real this time.”
He was too far away for me to attempt it now, but if he came closer, he’d be in range. I didn’t dare risk charging him due to the steep incline, plus that would leave Gretchen and Sandra helpless. Instea
d, I waited for him to lunge at me with his inhuman speed, but as the seconds ticked by and Shrapnel didn’t move, I grew suspicious. Sure, he knew I wasn’t bluffing, but it wouldn’t take long for word of the crash to reach Vlad. He had to know that, so why wasn’t he at least attempting to—
Then the wind blew a noxious fume my way. Once I smelled it, I understood. Shrapnel didn’t have to move to kill me. All he had to do was wait for the fire to reach the leaking gas tank.
Chapter 34
“If you run now, you might make it before Vlad gets here,” I said, switching tactics. I couldn’t free Gretchen and Sandra and fight off Shrapnel before the car blew. We both knew that.
“It’s already too late. You didn’t die in the crash and it took too long for me to heal before I reached you.”
Again he sounded more weary than villain-ish. He even sighed as though burdened beyond what he could bear.
“Now all that’s left is to ensure your death.”
“What did I ever do to you?” I snapped, hoping someone from the mansion had seen the smoke and help was on the way.
“It’s what you will do if you live.” His gaze shifted to my right hand. “My death is already certain. Hers is not.”
Her. I took a last stab at making him run or charge me.
“You mean the pretty brunette vampire?” I said, betting it all that it was the same woman I’d glimpsed in my vision. “Hate to break it to you, but she was found out days ago. Vlad’s already got people hunting her down. We just didn’t know who the traitor was.”
“Lies,” Shrapnel hissed.
He took a step forward and I held my breath. Come on, just a little closer!
“How’s this for lies? She’s five foot four, curvier than me, thick walnut-colored hair, lilting accent . . . want me to go on?”
I couldn’t, but as the scent of gasoline increased, so did my desperation. I debated charging him despite the steep hill and his incredible speed. Then he took another step closer.