Bloodlust

  Declan stopped a dozen feet away and glanced over his shoulder at me. “Are you coming?”

  When I moved closer to him he turned his face away so the scarred side would stay in shadows, away from the light shining down on us from the street lamp. The undamaged side of his face showed the man he could have been in a different life—a handsome, if a bit rough around the edges twenty-eight-year-old. Same age as me. Very different lives.

  I wanted to touch him, but I restrained myself. “Don’t hide from me.”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  “You asked me how I was feeling, so now I’ll do the same. How are you feeling right now?”

  His jaw tensed. “I’m fine.”

  “The new serum is—”

  “Holding strong. Much better than before.”

  Better. It wasn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe the experimental drug he’d been pumped full of a week ago.

  His now-deceased adoptive father, Carson Reyes, had been very concerned about Declan’s dhampyr nature. So much so that he’d developed a special serum that had to be injected every three hours since Declan was a child. This serum was meant to curb any vampiric tendencies he might have—violence, bloodlust, erratic behavior of any kind. The serum also restrained his emotions so much that he appeared to have none. This made him the perfect weapon who could follow orders to the letter and not give his father or anyone else any problems. He’d been an effective killing machine who felt nothing apart from getting the job done.

  Shortly after he’d met me he’d been forced to stop taking his serum regularly when it was stolen. I’d been worried that the violence and need for blood might overwhelm him, but it hadn’t. Instead I’d met a different Declan, one who felt emotions strongly and wanted more from life than merely being a blunt instrument sent out to kill monsters.

  Carson was still convinced he was right, that dhampyrs like Declan were dangerous and unpredictable. He’d been developing another serum—one that was meant to be permanent. He’d forcibly injected Declan with it, hoping it would save his son from giving in to any bloodlust. Ever. But that also meant that his emotions—including love, compassion, and sexual desire—would be permanently dampened.

  I needed answers. “I’m going to check the bar one last time.”

  Declan shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

  I felt the resolve flow through me. It helped me to ignore the stinging pain from the vampire’s bite. “Five minutes, I swear. Wait for me here.”

  “Jill, no—”

  Before he could stop me, I turned and quickly reentered the dark and musty interior of Ravenous. Keeping a close eye on my surroundings, wary of anyone who looked suspicious—and, admittedly, a lot of people did—I made a beeline to the bar where I’d been sitting earlier. The newspaper I’d been flipping through still lay closed on the scarred wooden bar top. On the top of page twenty-two I’d seen a small black-and-white picture of me and a heartfelt plea from Cathy, my older sister, asking anyone who knew my whereabouts to please contact the police immediately.

  I forced myself to look away from the newspaper toward the bartender.

  “Have you seen a guy in here tonight?” My words came out in a rush. “Early twenties, about five-ten, sort of thin. Light brown hair. Looks a bit like a frat boy?”

  He eyed me as he ran a wet rag along the countertop. “Not a lot of frat boys come in here.”

  “No shit.” I hissed out a sigh of frustration.

  “But, yeah, I think I’ve seen the guy you’re looking for.”

  My breath caught in my chest. “Really? Where?”

  His gaze moved over my shoulder. “Right behind you.”

  I spun around to see Noah standing ten feet away after coming out of the restroom on the right side of the club.

  A wide smile spread across his boyish features and he closed the distance between us in a few steps. “Jill, I wasn’t sure if you were here or not.”

  I hadn’t realized until this very moment how incredibly worried I’d been that he was hurt . . . or worse. The last time I’d seen him he’d been recovering from a bullet wound.

  “Where the hell were you? You said you’d be here over a half hour ago.”

  His smile widened. “Good to see you, too.”

  I hugged him tightly. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m not. But, ouch. Be careful. I’m still recuperating.”

  “Sorry.” I released him, and he placed a hand over his chest wound hidden under his dark blue shirt.

  “Don’t worry about it. But if this was a normal world I’d likely still be in a hospital bed slurping up Jell-O cubes.” His amiable expression faded and he touched my face. “Christ, you look like hell.”

  I’d take it as an insult if he didn’t look so concerned. “I feel better than I look, believe it or not.”

  “You’re paler than last time I saw you. Maybe it’s just the new hair color. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You’re still hot. You’re a hot chick who looks like she hasn’t slept in about a decade.”

  “I’ll go heavier on the under eye concealer the next time I enter polite society.”

  “Are you in any pain?”

  Having poison in my veins came with a whole set of issues, a couple of which were excruciating pain and nausea. I’d been given another drug, a fusing potion, meant to bind the Nightshade with my blood on a cellular level. Since then, things had been better.

  “Other than feeling headachy and weary, kind of like a constant low-level hangover, I haven’t experienced any severe pain since taking the fuser.”

  “Not yet, you mean.”

  I cringed. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “I got more fuser for you so you can take it regularly. I know it doesn’t exactly go down easily, does it?”

  “It sure doesn’t.”

  The fuser ramped up the pain I felt about a hundredfold before it started to work. As the saying went, it was always darkest just before the dawn.

  “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down,” he said.

  “Thank you, Mary Poppins. If I didn’t have to inject it, I’d be happy to swallow a bucket of sugar with it.” I reached for his sleeve to draw him closer when some other rough-looking bar patrons moved past us. “Is that what you wanted to see me about tonight? The fusing potion? I thought you might have some other answers.”

  His expression tensed. “Not yet, I’m afraid.”

  I felt a stab of disappointment at his answer. “Oh.”

  “Where’s Declan?”

  “Waiting vigilantly outside. Armed to the teeth.”

  “That’s surprisingly reassuring to know.” He glanced at my neck as I twisted a lock of hair around my finger. “Making new friends?”

  I touched the fresh fang marks. Luckily for a newly designated pincushion like myself, a vampire’s bite healed in a matter of a few days, leaving no scars behind. It was small comfort since they stung like a bitch. “You kept me waiting too long. I met a couple guys who liked the way I smelled.”

  He grimaced. “Sorry. I take it they’re gone now?”

  “Permanently.” I glanced around. “Now that you’re here, I do want to talk to you about Declan’s new serum.”

  Noah looked nervously over his shoulder. “Yeah, sure. But . . . listen, Jill, there actually is another reason why I needed to see you tonight. And it’s not because I enjoy the dulcet tones of Black Sabbath and the smell of sweaty leather.”

  “What is it?”

  Noah shot another look over his shoulder. “Jesus, Jill, when he contacted me yesterday it scared the shit out of me. It was the last damn thing I expected. He wants to see you, but he didn’t want me to mention that until you got here.”

  My heart sped up. “Who?”

  Noah met my gaze and held it. “Matthias.”

  There was a long moment of stunned silence before I gathered my thoughts together enough to answer him. “He—he’s alive?”

  Noah nodded.

&n
bsp; Fresh panic raced through me. “And he’s here? Right now?”

  “In the flesh.”

  I had the sudden urge to turn and run, to escape this bar as fast as my feet could carry me. But my legs felt like lead.

  Matthias was alive. It couldn’t be possible. It shouldn’t be possible.

  I turned as if in slow motion to see the vampire king in question step out of the shadows to my left, his pale gray gaze trained on me. My mouth fell open in shock. I couldn’t help but be stunned to see him again—alive and well and standing right in front of me.

  After all, I’d been the one who’d killed him.

  2

  THE REST OF THE BAR BLURRED IN MY PERIPHERAL VISION and the throb of the music dulled in my ears. When Matthias got within six feet of me he slowed and dark veins faintly surfaced on his pale cheekbones.

  “I’d almost forgotten how powerful it is,” he said so quietly I barely heard him. “I hadn’t properly braced myself for your scent.”

  “I can’t believe this.” The shock made my words sound hollow. “You died right in front of me. Fire, ash, you were gone.”

  “A parlor trick I’d planned well ahead of time for just such an occasion. That, along with a sliver of mental influence helped me to cloud minds and escape. It was all smoke and mirrors, Jillian.”

  I’d known Matthias had a love of magic. He’d even been friends with Houdini himself once upon a time. It was a possibility to me that it had all been a trick, but with each day that had passed since it seemed less and less likely.

  He’d drank my blood—the same blood that killed every other vampire who’d tasted it.

  I moistened my dry lips with the tip of my tongue and flicked a nervous glance at Noah, who stood with his arms crossed and a worried expression on his face. My attention returned to the former vampire king. “So my blood doesn’t kill all vampires.”

  “No.”

  “You proved once and for all that the ritual—your brother’s ritual—worked.”

  “In part.”

  While vampires had the potential for immortality, they were still vulnerable and could be killed by a wooden stake or silver blade through their hearts, by decapitation, by fire.

  In their search for true and inarguable immortality, a secret group had formed called the Amarantos Society. They believed that the blood of an infant female dhampyr imbued a vampire with that immortality.

  Thirty years ago, Matthias’s brother, Kristoff, murdered his own daughter and forced Matthias to drink her blood alongside him.

  Just thinking about it made me feel physically ill.

  “You wanted to talk to me.” I tried very hard not to let my voice tremble. I failed, but at least I tried.

  He nodded, his gaze traveling over my face and down my tank top and short black skirt. I felt chilled even though it was warm in the bar with all the human bodies milling around generating an unpleasant sticky heat. When his gaze returned to mine, I fought the urge to look away. Matthias appeared to be no more than thirty, a handsome man with dark blond hair that fell nearly to his shoulders, but I knew he was at least four hundred years old.

  Vampires, especially those as old and powerful as Matthias, could easily manipulate a human’s mind. I knew this firsthand because he’d once manipulated mine.

  “Where is my daughter?” he asked after a moment.

  Just before Matthias faked his death, he’d asked me to take care of his baby daughter, who’d been born in the research compound where Declan and his father lived.

  “She’s safe.”

  “Where is she?” he asked again, sharper. “Tell me.”

  “Jill doesn’t know.” Declan’s voice made me jump. He’d entered the club despite his earlier protests. I could see he’d already attracted the wary glances of others around us in the bar. His gaze narrowed on Matthias. “And this is not a discussion to have in public.”

  Matthias eyed Declan, as if sizing up the dhampyr. “I disagree.”

  “Your daughter is in good hands. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

  “But you won’t tell me where she is, will you?”

  “No, I won’t. Not now.”

  Matthias’s attention shifted to me and I could see his frustration. “Jillian would tell me.”

  “Don’t be so sure. She doesn’t know you very well and I’m sure she doesn’t trust you.”

  “You’re sure about that, are you?” Matthias’s strained expression now showed a trace of amusement. “I’ll assume she hasn’t told you much about the time we spent together alone in my chambers.”

  Declan’s jaw tightened. “The subject hasn’t come up.”

  “I can still feel her body against mine, see her bare skin flush with desire. She has a tattoo on her left hip—a small Japanese symbol for strength, isn’t it?” He glanced at me. “Do you remember that, Jillian?”

  “Go to hell.” My face was hot with anger and embarrassment.

  “Hell, heaven . . . sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.” A smile played at his lips.

  “Enough.” Declan’s voice was harsh, although Matthias’s words hadn’t seemed to put much of a dent into his cool composure.

  It had put a big dent into mine. What happened between me and Matthias had been a huge mistake, one brought on by that strong mental influence of his. What I’d felt for him for a few brief moments hadn’t been remotely real. It had been more of that smoke and mirrors he’d spoken about earlier.

  Declan didn’t trust Matthias to start with, and it looked as if the feeling was mutual. The dhampyr had been raised to hate vampires all of his life and he didn’t disappoint. It was one of the reasons he’d taken his original serum so religiously—because of his hatred of his vampire father who’d allegedly raped his mother.

  All of his life he’d been led to believe that monster was Matthias himself. But that had been a lie.

  Declan moved his seemingly unaffected gaze from the vampire king to Noah, ignoring the previous bait Matthias had thrown out. “Do you have any information tonight that can help Jill?”

  Noah cleared his throat. He’d been watching our uncomfortable exchange like a spectator at a tennis game. “Still working on it, Dec. It’s not easy now that I’m away from the compound since all the research material’s there, but I’m doing my best. I’m gathering info on your new serum, too. That’s not quite as top secret, so I expect to have some solid news soon.”

  “If you have nothing useful to tell us, then being here tonight is a waste of our time. Jill was attacked earlier.”

  “I know, but—”

  “When and if you learn anything that can actually help us, please contact us again.” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist. “We’re leaving.”

  I expected Matthias to try to stop us, but he didn’t. He stood in place, his hands fisted at his sides, and silently watched us leave the nightclub.

  DECLAN AND I RETURNED TO OUR MOTEL NEAR VENICE Beach, the latest in a succession of motels we’d stayed at for the past week. It wasn’t The Ritz or even the Holiday Inn, but it had a bed and a TV and a bathroom that actually worked. It was a one-story U-shaped motel with a vacancy sign flashing out front of the small parking lot where our ten-year-old Buick—admittedly acquired through less than legal means—was parked along with a couple other cars.

  My entire life now easily fit into a tote bag and had been purchased entirely at Walmart. Including the tote bag. It definitely made it easy to leave a location quickly without worrying about forgetting anything important. But it wasn’t exactly what you’d call a life of luxury.

  Back home in San Diego, working as a temp, I hadn’t had tons of money and clothes. At twenty-eight, I’d still had a roommate to afford rent downtown as I figured out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I’d lived paycheck to paycheck. But this was much different than even that modest lifestyle. All I could do was hope that one day very soon things would return to normal and I could stop running and hiding like a criminal who’d esc
aped from prison.

  Declan hadn’t said anything to me on our half hour drive back here. I’d stayed quiet, trying very hard not to let what had happened since arriving at the bar only an hour and a half ago haunt me. My neck stung and I immediately went into the tiny bathroom to clean the vampire bite with a damp facecloth.

  “He won’t just let the subject of his daughter drop, you know,” I said, glancing over my shoulder.

  Declan stood by the door, his arms crossed over his hard muscled chest. He didn’t reply.

  “Declan, are you listening to me?”

  He finally looked at me, his gray gaze flat. “He shouldn’t be alive.”

  “But he is.”

  “You said he drank your blood. That he killed himself right in front of you.”

  “It was a trick so he could escape.”

  “Did you know it was a trick?”

  “I ... had a feeling it might be.” Just before he’d bitten me, an act of rebellion against a woman who meant to use Matthias as a stud to breed dhampyrs, he’d whispered that he’d find me.

  He did. It was just a bit quicker than I ever would have imagined.

  “I see.” Declan watched me dab at my injured throat with the cloth.

  “About his daughter . . .”

  “I told you that she’s somewhere safe. Somewhere she can be looked after. We don’t have the means to properly take care of a baby. It would have been too dangerous to keep her with us.”

  “I know that.” Frustration welled inside of me. “But why can’t you tell me where she is? Don’t you trust me?”

  “I trust you. I don’t trust Matthias.”

  “She’s his daughter.”

  “And she’s a dhampyr. She’s very valuable. Her blood is worth more than diamonds to those interested in the immortality ritual.”

  I was surprised by how cold he sounded. “He wouldn’t just hand her over to the Amarantos Society.”