Sarah’s spilled blood, blond hair, and flushed skin were the only color in the room. She lay on a plush black couch, where it seemed someone had gently set her down. Adianna could see the faint mark that attested to an almost-healed wound on Sarah’s right hand, though she knew there had been no mark there earlier in the night.
The fact that the new injury no doubt the source of the blood on the floor, was nearly closed scared Adianna more than anything had since their father had died. No witch healed that fast.
Her power flared as she knelt by her sister’s side. She was dangerously close to losing control, but she knew of nothing on earth that would make her pause to regain it.
Sarah’s skin was hot to the touch, and Adianna clamped her jaws tight as she saw the faint blush of blood on Sarah’s mouth. Reaching out with a tendril of magic, she found the poison in Sarah’s system.
They had given her their blood. Whether they had intended to blood bond her or to end her life did not matter. Sarah was a Daughter of Vida; her witch blood would destroy the invading vampiric blood, and probably destroy the body it was inside in the process.
A healer might have been able to do something, but any healer would have consulted Dominique before treating Sarah, and Dominique would have told them to let her die. Adianna would have to try on her own.
She knew what the consequences could be. This had not been attempted since Jade Arun had tried to heal her young daughter thousands of years ago. Since then every witch in the Arun line had been born with vampire blood. But if that was the price, Adianna would pay it.
She placed her hand over Sarah’s feverish brow, closed her eyes, and tried to sever the bonds the vampiric blood had already made on Sarah’s flesh.
She knew from the start it was a lost cause. The infection was too deep, and it had leached onto Sarah’s blood too firmly.
“Damn it, Sarah!” Adianna’s own shriek startled her back to the real world. “Don’t you dare die on me. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.” The last words were whispered, as she threw her mind and magic headlong into the swift tide that was Sarah’s power.
The effect was similar to jumping into freezing river rapids headfirst, bogged down by pockets full of stones, with salt in her eyes, and every inch of skin raw to the bone. First she severed the ties Dominique’s magic had fastened over Sarah’s, and then steeled herself for her next move.
Sarah’s magic was killing her as it killed the vampire blood. If Adianna could not pull out the vampiric toxin, then the only thing she could do was cut away the magic that was fighting it.
She was in Sarah’s mind as well as in her magic, and even though she did not want to hear, she knew the truth. She could save Sarah’s life by destroying her magic, but she knew quite clearly that her sister would rather die.
She held Sarah’s life and magic between two fingertips. She could snap each with a thought.
Instead, trembling, she withdrew, breath dragging through her lungs with difficulty. The sun had completely risen while she had been drowning in Sarah’s power, and she knew that the faint, cool sensation of someone’s aura brushing over her was not new. He must have been there for hours, kneeling silently slightly behind her and to her left.
She turned slowly, drawing the knife from her wrist as she did so, and he did not move to stop her.
“How is she?” Christopher asked, his voice soft.
Her voice cut as sharply as could her blade. “How did you think she would be after you gave her your blood? She is going to die.”
Christopher’s carefully neutral expression crumbled. The vampire leaned back against the wall and his eyes closed for a moment.
“I didn’t think,” Christopher answered quietly, raising his black gaze to meet the hunter’s. “I lost control.”
Adianna was Dominique Vidas older daughter. She had always been the strong sister, the one who honored the line, the one who made Dominique proud. She, more than anyone, knew exactly how much could be destroyed by losing control even for a few moments. She could also see how painful the confession was to the vampire.
Perhaps seeing Adianna’s reluctant understanding, Christopher added, “I love her, and I never meant to hurt her. And I will not let her die because I screwed up.” Though he spoke softly, Christopher’s voice was rich with self-directed anger.
He stepped toward Sarah, and without thinking, Adianna moved between the vampire and her sister. “Get away from her.”
“You’re Sarah’s sister,” Christopher said, his voice tight. “Do you really want her to die?”
Adianna flinched at the accusation; her nails bit crescents into her left palm as she clenched her hand into a fist. “How do you intend to help her?” she asked, but she knew the answer.
“I took her blood, and possibly her life,” Christopher said. “It’s only right if I give her mine.” The meaning was clear. He meant to change her, to make her into one of the creatures that Sarah had spent her whole life hunting. Christopher must have seen some sign of revulsion in Adianna’s face because he added, “She would be alive.”
“She would be a …”
“Yes, she would be a vampire,” Christopher snapped. “But she would be alive. Isn’t that all that matters? I would prefer to change her and risk having her hate me even more for it than to let her die without giving her a choice.”
Adianna could not agree. To allow her own sister to be turned into one of their kind would be worse than letting her die.
Before Adianna could raise the protest, Christopher calmed his voice and added, “If she wakes up and doesn’t want it, Sarah is strong enough to fall on the knife. At least this way she will wake up.”
Adianna choked on her own argument, and turned away from Christopher and Sarah. “Do what you have to do.” Her voice broke on the words.
She stepped aside, but could not force her gaze away. Her resolve almost broke as the leech bared Sarah’s throat; she leaned back against the wall and sank to the floor.
Get out of here, hunter. You don’t want to watch this. The vampire’s voice in her mind was loud, strengthened by the witch blood he had in him. Adianna felt the bile rise in her throat.
She stood, and turned her back on the pair. One step, two. She was almost at the door when, like Orpheus, she had to take one last glance — just in time to see Christopher draw his knife across his own skin, and to see Sarah latch on to the new wound like a suckling child.
Adianna lost control, and sprinted the rest of the way to her car. Twenty minutes later she convinced herself to slow down when she found herself pushing ninety-five on the highway; no matter how far or how fast she traveled, Adianna knew she would never outrun that last image.
From this night on, whether she chose to live as a vampire or kill herself, Sarah was as good as dead. Adianna prayed she would never see her sister again.
CHAPTER 29
AT SUNSET, Kristopher still sat by Sarah’s side, waiting anxiously for her to stir.
Had he been too late? He cursed himself for wasting time arguing with the hunter, but he doubted that Sarah would have forgiven him if he had hurt Adianna. His system still hummed with the power of Sarah’s witch blood, and if he had fought the hunter he probably would have killed her out of reflex.
His brother was pacing in the back of the room, his power crackling around him like a net of sparks, and as always Kristopher could feel the connection between them. Nikolas had a right to be there; they were in his house. It had been the only location that Kristopher had trusted to be safe enough.
A less intrusive presence, Nissa waited calmly in one of the other chairs. He wasn’t sure why his sister was there — maybe to diffuse the situation if Sarah woke up hating him.
He brushed a long black hair from his face, the only movement he had made in almost twenty minutes, and glanced briefly at the abstract black-and-white clock on the wall. The sun should have set by now. She should have awakened.
Finally Sarah moaned lightly and Christopher’s gui
lt came around to hit him again as he heard the pain in her tone. He knew that a newborn vampire, before she had ever hunted, was wracked by bloodlust so strong it could drive reason completely from the mind. Without killing, it was almost impossible to sate that hunger.
Sarah moaned again and sat up slowly, blinking to clear her vision. They all knew her mind was foggy. Her memory might not even return until after she fed. Kristopher and Nikolas both reached to help her up.
Sarah could barely stand on her own, and she leaned on Kristopher as he held her. “I need to bring her someplace she can feed safely,” he told his sister. Once Sarah had fed she would probably hate him. Worse, she might put her own knife through her heart.
Nissa stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t let her kill anyone, Kristopher.”
Nikolas laughed, and Nissa flinched at the cutting tone. “That’s impossible, Nissa. She’s a new fledgling, and her change wasn’t nearly as easy as yours was — if she doesn’t take a life, she won’t be able to sate the bloodlust, and you well know it.”
“She’s a Daughter of Vida. She won’t take a human life,” Nissa argued.
Nikolas looked at Sarah doubtfully as Kristopher gently smoothed a hand down her silky hair, trying to comfort her as much as he could while his siblings argued.
“I’ll take her,” Nissa said, her voice strong. “There are people I know at SingleEarth who will be willing.”
Kristopher mirrored his brother’s expression, doubtful. “Not willing to die.” Like his sister, Kristopher had gone through the change easily; only Nikolas had woken to the mind-numbing pain that Sarah was going through.
Nikolas and Nissa continued to argue, but Kristopher had already made a decision. Human blood was too weak to sate the bloodlust without a kill. Witch blood would have been best, since it was strong enough to quench the thirst without killing the donor, but every instinct rebelled against bringing Sarah to her kin. The witches answered to Dominique, and Dominique was the last person who could know what had become of her daughter.
There was only one choice left — had always been only one choice. Tilting his head back, he drew Sarah to his own throat.
CHAPTER 30
GODDESS, IT HURT. Fire and glass were being forced through her veins and she could do nothing about it.
Drink, she heard in her mind, and suddenly she was aware of the sweet scent that filled her senses.
Sarah’s instincts took over as Kristopher pulled her to his own throat. Graceful as any predator, she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and sealed her lips over the pulse point. She felt the weight of her own fangs in her mouth, the moment of resistance as they pierced the skin, and then only the rich, warm blood that flowed over her tongue.
Then there was only the sweet, rich taste, and a million images that accompanied it. She was not prepared for the flood of memories and emotions, but she understood that Kristopher could not have blocked her from his mind if he had tried. Not while she was this close, not while his blood flowed past her lips.
Some of the memories were pleasant, some harsh, and as she flickered among them she lost track of her own self.
“Nicholas, or Christopher?” the girl asked with a toss of her golden curls. Dressed in pale cream, with an ivy wreath and a white rose in her lap, Christine Brunswick was every inch the May Queen. He flinched at the question, but it was common enough. Only from Christine did it have the power to cut.
Power like lightening struck him, knocking him away from their willing prey. Pain worse than even the searing torture of the bloodlust, as Elisabeth Vida’s knife sank into his chest, only missing his heart because his brother had hit the witch’s arm. He thought he was going to die, like this, but somehow they got the knife out. The witch’s blood was sweeter than the richest honey, and the pain dimmed as he took it, with his brother beside him.
He remembered when the human world had found her body. The names Nikolas and Kristopher had been on the lips of the world that they had lost. Christopher Ravena — the name he had been given when he was born — was not a hunter, and so he had changed the name when he signed it on his prey. Such a small change, but a symbol of his difference, the last break he had made from the world he had been born in.
Nissa, at one of their bashes, the first time the brothers had seen her since they had been changed a hundred years before. She was nervous of Kaleo and the others, but eventually she relaxed in the heady atmosphere of predatory contentment. No one here hid his nature.
One human got out of hand and made the mistake of insulting Nissa while her brothers looked on. He never would have lived through the night, and Nissa had known that. The Devil’s Hour fell, and no one thought to stop Nissa as she bared the man’s throat and fed.
Nissa, dying as she refused to feed again. Dying as her own guilt tore her apart. He wasn’t sure he could survive without Nikolas, but he knew Nissa couldn’t live without him. Later, when she was strong again, he could go back to his brother, but right now … she needed him.
Even before he spoke to her, he adored her. Her beauty, her grace, and the thoughtful expression she wore that told him she was not listening to a thing the teacher was saying … all of that enthralled him. After he spoke to her, after he had laughed with her and learned about her, he could not have helped being fascinated by her. She was too polished, too impossible, and he kept wondering what lay beneath.
Sarah Tigress Vida, youngest Daughter of Vida. Finally he understood the strength he had seen in her. And only then, when she told him to leave her alone, did he realize that he loved her.
Fighting the desire to argue, he had fallen back into the neutral mask Kristopher wore when he was not in friendly territory. He wanted to kiss her, but instead he had been cold, because otherwise he would not have been able to keep himself from asking her to defy all the rules. He would never ask her to give up so much, not for him.
When the spell finally broke and Sarah stepped back, the hunger and the pain were gone, but a duality remained. Though Sarah tried to ignore the sensation, it was like turning her back to a conversation. The direct thoughts and memories disappeared, but there remained a lingering sense of Kristopher’s mind.
Kristopher stepped back, and Sarah knew that he would have blocked the connection, if it had been his decision. The wound that Christine had left was still healing. He had adored Christine; she had been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The last thing he wanted was for Sarah to see what Christine had been to him.
“Kristopher?” The question came from Nikolas, who had been standing quietly at the other side of the room.
Kristopher shook his head as if to clear his mind. “I’m … fine,” he answered finally. Forcibly turning his mind from the memories, he raised his gaze to Sarah’s and said simply, “What you do now is your choice.”
He was not going to mention it aloud, but she could easily feel his fear, and she understood it. He was worried that she was going to kill herself.
But if she didn’t, what could she do? Her life and everything she had known were gone. Her own mother would kill her if she tried to go back.
A true Vida would have fallen on the knife the moment she had become a vampire, but Sarah did not want to die. She had made friends with Nissa, and with Christopher, and they had taught her that the vampire blood did not turn a person into a monster.
CHAPTER 31
WHEN SHE GAVE NO RESPONSE, Kristopher took a breath. After a hesitation that told her he was bracing himself for her answer, he said, “Sarah, I don’t give a damn about your past — I love you. If you want to, you’re welcome to stay with us.”
She saw Nikolas’s surprise when he heard the “us,” but the vampire didn’t argue. The idea gave Sarah pause, however.
If the “us” had meant Christopher and Nissa, she would have said yes immediately But she knew how Nikolas lived, how he hunted. He killed, and whether his prey was willing or not didn’t matter to Sarah. She couldn’t live that way.
br /> Before she could voice her refusal, Nikolas spoke.
“Sarah …” He paused and looked to Kristopher for a moment before he continued, as if for approval. “I’m not expecting your instant forgiveness. I’m not even asking for it.” He started to take a step in her direction, but then seemed to think better of it and stopped. “But if nothing else, trust me when I say I won’t ever hurt my brother, or let him be hurt if I can stop it.” Again he glanced at his brother, but this time only for a moment, as if he already knew how Kristopher would react. “We don’t own you. Whatever you choose today … I’m no threat to you. But don’t blame Kristopher for what I’ve done, and don’t leave just because I’m here.”
Sarah opened her mouth to disagree, but then closed it as Nikolas’s words sank in. Her instinct was to argue with anything he said, but right now what he said made sense.
She couldn’t stay, but it wasn’t because of Nikolas. Quite abruptly she realized that her hatred for him seemed to have faded. Her brush with Kristopher’s mind had caused some of that; it was nearly impossible to completely hate Nikolas once she had felt the intense love and loyalty Kristopher held for his brother.
Yes, he had hurt her physically but pain was only fleeting. Honestly, the most brutal thing Nikolas had done to her had been to open her eyes and force her to see reality — the shades of gray that existed in the world, beyond the world of stark black and white, of evil and good, that Dominique had taught her long ago.
She took a breath, but her mind was made up. “I can’t stay” she said finally, and she saw — and felt — Kristopher flinch. “You know I can’t survive — and hunt — the same way you do. Even if I could, I don’t like to be dependent. Give me some time to find my own way to live.” She lifted her gaze and met Kristopher’s. His fear, which was still ringing clear in her mind, prompted her to add, “I don’t hate you, Kristopher. I don’t hate you or your brother.” On a burst of impulsiveness that would have made Dominique cringe, she stepped forward and hugged him. “I’ll miss you, Kristopher, but I can’t stay here. For now at least.”