CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

It took me a few fuzzy seconds to realize I’d been hit by a person. It felt as if I’d been hit by a cement truck going a hundred miles an hour, or so my wavering mind believed. My consciousness faltered like a flickering light bulb and I struggled desperately to stay awake, determined to hold on to the world.

I lay on the ground with half my face buried in a bed of dry leaves. I was trembling from head to toe, but otherwise completely immobile. I strained to focus my eyes on the figures I saw looming in the distance.

I was facing the direction from which I’d come and I could see Bo a couple hundred feet away. He stood in a shaft of moonlight as it filtered through the trees. It dappled the ground all around him and sprinkled his rigid body with silvery spots. Even in the pale light, I could see the tension in him.

Bo’s face was contorted in fury and his eyes were an unnatural, ghostly green that looked almost white in the low light. His lips were curled back from his teeth in a gruesome, fang-laden snarl and, even from where I was, I could see that his pale skin was cracked like an old canvas painting.

Multiple low growls rang sinisterly through the still of the night. I couldn’t tell which noises were coming from Bo and which ones were coming from the two men that were circling him like vicious predators. Their backs were to me, so I could only see that one was taller and thicker than the other. I imagined, however, that their faces were distorted in much the same way as Bo’s. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were vampires, and they were on a mission—a deadly mission.

Bo backed up a step from the two and dropped slowly into a crouch. I saw him grab something from the ground at his right hip. His fingers curled around the dark object and he stilled. He was poised to strike, battle ready.

In a flash of movement so quick I could barely follow it, the taller vampire charged Bo, hurling himself through the air toward him. Bo straightened, catching the vampire in flight and, turning, used the vampire’s momentum to throw him to the ground.

Bo landed on top of him and raised his arm above his head. He paused for one long heartbeat, his moonlit form like a mercury-dipped statue. I saw what he held in his hand. It was a piece of wood as thick as a baseball bat with ends just as blunt.

My vision pulsed with every heavy throb of my heart. It stopped beating for one instant when an animal-like roar split the air. A shiver raced down my back as Bo brought his arm down in one lightning-fast motion.

I heard the sickening crunch of bone followed by the hiss of spraying blood as a chest exploded. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, but against the backs of my eyelids, my mind painted a clear image of the scene. I could plainly envision the broad head of the makeshift stake crushing the sternum of that vampire and obliterating his heart.

When I was finally able to open my eyes again, it was as if I’d fallen asleep and awakened hours later to a totally different scene. And Bo was not making out as well in this one. He was being held aloft by the shorter of the vampires, his feet dangling several inches off the ground. I could see the chalky fingers that were wrapped around his throat.

In one sharp movement, Bo jabbed his fist into the other vampire’s elbow. I heard the splinter of bone as the arm buckled. The milky fingers lost their grip and Bo fell to the ground.

The other vampire backhanded Bo, a violent strike, but one that barely moved Bo’s head. Bo’s lips lifted in a scary smile before he slammed his flat palm against the vampire’s chest.

The vampire stumbled back, but righted himself quickly and charged Bo in a tackling motion that put his shoulder right into Bo’s stomach. I heard a grunt as the vampire drove Bo back against a tree, pinning him against it with a branch-shaking thud.

Straightening, the vampire lifted his arm and punched at Bo’s face. Bo shifted his head to one side and the fist missed his face by a scant inch. The vampire’s knuckles made contact with the tree and it crumbled under the impact, bark and shredded wood flying out in an explosion of debris.

Bo grabbed the vampire by the shoulders, holding him still for a head butt. When their skulls collided, it sounded like a clap of thunder. The vampire growled, not even dazed, and drove his curled fingers deep into Bo’s side.

The fight went on, first one then the other gaining the upper hand. I watched every movement with bated breath, every answering strike with a hammering heart, praying that Bo would emerge victorious.

Slowly, as the two vampires danced violently through the woods, I felt life return to my stubborn limbs with a near-painful tingle. I willed my arms and legs to move, the need to get to Bo, to aid him somehow, an almost tangible force.

As the battle wore on, I saw that each of the vampires was operating with fewer and fewer intact limbs. Gaping gashes and broken bones were highlighted with every movement. Though some of the wounds were already beginning to heal, I didn’t know how much more damage either of them could sustain and remain upright and battle worthy.

Even though I was only human, I knew that my intervention—that adding my strength (however meager) to Bo’s—could mean the difference between his life and his death. That’s what drove me to my hands and knees and then, eventually, to my feet, where I leaned unsteadily against a nearby tree.

I’d managed to stumble a few yards forward when I saw Bo, in a burst of energy, lunge forward and trip the other vampire then pin him to the ground.

Bo swung his fists a few times at the guy, and, though I couldn’t see the man lying on the ground, I could hear the dull thwack of flesh being pummeled.

Relief washed over me. It appeared that it would soon be over, that Bo was going to win and that he would live at least a little while longer. Unfortunately, my relief was premature.

Something bright flashed through the woods. It was like a match head flaming to life and then being dropped immediately into a cup of water. The light was there and then it was gone.

The streak swept Bo off the other vampire and carried him deep into the woods, far past the point where I could still see him.

A breathless panic constricted my chest and I searched the dark forest and moonlit ground for signs of Bo. There were none.

Far-off sounds tickled my ears and I cocked my head to the side, trying to triangulate the location of the ruckus, a ruckus that I could only assume was Bo and the phantom creature. Pinpointing their position to my left, I pushed myself away from the tree on which I’d been leaning and forced my legs to propel me over the uneven ground toward the commotion.

It seemed I limped and exerted for miles before I could actually make out shapes among the motionless trees. And when I did, my heart stopped.

Bo was nailed to a huge boulder, spread eagle fashion, by thick wooden stakes that were protruding from his shoulders and thighs. A shimmering apparition of a man stood over him, as if waiting for the perfect moment to deal death to Bo.

There was blood everywhere and Bo’s head lolled lifelessly to one side. My heart stopped and I watched his chest for movement, to see if he was breathing. He was so absolutely still that my knees nearly buckled in relief when he finally rolled his head upright and spoke to the man.

Blood spewed from his lips with every syllable.

“This isn’t over,” he said. “If you kill me, someone else will come along, someone stronger than me, someone who can take you down. And they will. They’ll rip out your black heart out and salt the earth with your blood and then they’ll tear you apart and bury the pieces.”

An eerie chuckle rippled through the trees like the dark echo of an empty soul. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled uncomfortably.

“You don’t even know who you are, why you must die, and yet you would send others to fall for your cause. Are you sure it is only my heart that is black?”

Bo jerked as if the man’s words physically pierced him, but he said nothing.

The man continued. “If others come, they will meet the same fate as you—death. Eternal death. The death of the soul that nothing can regenerate. You will never know of the power that I wield, power that can remove your life force from your body and extinguish it from the universe. The memory of your existence will be no more. It will be as if you never were.”

My mind reeled as I listened, my heart thudding wildly, painfully, inside my chest. Was what he threatened even possible? And if it was, what kind of entity could accomplish such a feat? There was only one thing, one manifestation of the purest evil, that came creeping to mind and it made my blood run cold.

Bo wrestled against his restraints, but he barely managed to move at all. Judging by the cracks in the rock to which Bo was affixed, the stakes must’ve been deeply embedded, an accomplishment that must have taken incredible strength.

“Stop your struggling. You brought this on yourself. Now it’s time to reap the whirlwind.”

With that menacing warning, the ethereal man raised his hands, fingers splayed and curved in a claw-like manner, toward Bo. At his gesture, the trees around me began to creak as the wind whipped through the branches. It stirred the leaves on the forest floor and sent them spinning through the air. A low hum began to sound, as if the ground was coming alive beneath us. Louder and louder it got until it was a dull roar in my ears.

Above the ambient noise, I could hear Bo panting, his breath coming in shallow bursts like he was in pain. His moan caused my guts to twist in agony. In my mind, I was scrambling to find a way to help him, to put an end to whatever atrocious things this man was planning to do to Bo.

As if he could no longer contain it, a reluctant scream burst through Bo’s gritted teeth. The sound ripped through me like a scalpel, tearing my heart open in one quick swipe.

With no thought as to what I was going to do, or to the consequences of my actions, I stepped forward, making my way to the man who hovered ominously over Bo.

When I was no more than three or four feet from him, he turned toward me and I gasped—in recognition.

I was standing face to face with Lars—only not. He looked ghostly and chilling, more frightening that anything I’d ever seen, even in the best of scary movies.

His entire body seemed to be in constant motion, but motion that remained within the confines of his shape. It was as if he was changing, growing with every second, shifting and moving right before my eyes.

His blondish hair was adrift about his head, wiggling in a peculiar golden halo, squirming even. And his face, it was paler than Bo’s, and beneath its surface, I could see movement there as well. It was like seeing hundreds of faces fighting for control, for dominance. It was as if his inner demons were visible to the naked eye, like they could be seen writhing and fighting for escape.

“The beautiful Ridley. I see you’ve had the blood of your mate.”

Confused, my eyes flickered to Bo. My bravado faltered when I saw the stunned expression he was wearing. I didn’t understand it.

“Let him go, Lars.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll keep him. After all, I’ve only just begun,” he declared with a smile that could freeze water.

“He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“On the contrary, little flower, he has perpetrated quite the offense. And, sweet as it is for you to come to his rescue, young Bo here knew what he was getting into, knew the risk he was taking. I’d wager that he even expected death to come calling for him some day soon, isn’t that right Bo?”

Lars didn’t turn to look at Bo, but I couldn’t help stealing one more glance in his direction. He had closed his eyes again. Whether in exhaustion or defeat, I couldn’t know, but it didn’t matter to me. Either way, I had to save him.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, turning back to Bo in one fluid motion. He gave me no more thought than he would an irritating fly.

Lars moved closer to Bo, pausing for only a moment to look down at him and say, “I would say I’d be seeing you around, but…I won’t.”

Arching his back and throwing his head back, Lars let out a deep growl, one that curdled my blood and quieted every noise in the forest. The silence that followed was deafening, a loud roar of nothingness in my head as I watched his hostile takeover of Bo’s body.

The erratic movement inside the shape that constituted Lars increased for several tense seconds, wriggling desperately, frantically within the bounds of his frame, until I began to see a rhythm emerge.

It was as if a million tiny points of light slowed and began to shift in a choreographed dance that held me captive. And then I saw something reaching for Bo, like the essence of Lars was stretching forth to claim him.

Thousands of wispy white fingers floated out from Lars like tendrils of smoke gravitating toward Bo. They settled on every surface of Bo’s body, tethering him to Lars with thin, milky threads.

Pinpricks of blood sprang up at the tip of each tendril and Bo’s body began to convulse, spasms squeezing his muscles from head to toe. His legs and shoulders strained against the stakes that bound him to the boulder, blood weeping from each wound and trickling down the face of the rock.

Within seconds, Bo’s entire body was covered in blood and, though he was silent, his face was contorted in pain. It wasn’t until I saw the telltale greenish black gangrenous color creeping up his neck toward his chin that I felt something foreign stir within me.

In that moment, something changed inside me. I doubt I’ll ever be able to adequately describe it. But I’ll never forget it. It was terror mingled with determination, desperation mixed with rage. It was an earth-moving force that welled up in my body, threatening to break it apart.

Building and building, a pressure started in my chest and radiated down into my stomach where it churned angrily. Bo’s pain bubbled and gurgled in my veins, like my own blood was in agony, trapped inside my body.

Building and building, my lungs burned with the scream that crouched there, one that I held in and fed from like a fire feeding from oxygen. It fueled me somehow, pulsing and thriving inside me, pushing me to act.

Building and building, fury swelled behind my lids like a red tidal wave, washing away all reason and logic. I felt as if my skin could no longer contain the tsunami.

Like a broken vase, I was busting open and wrath was gushing out through the cracks. In every fiber of my being, I felt it, all the way to fingertips that vibrated like they were about to explode.

And then I did.

Every nerve in my body was suddenly on fire, and every surface cried out in pain. If a thousand knives were slicing me open all at once, it couldn’t have hurt any worse. My very skin was splitting. I could feel it.

My eyes met Bo’s and I couldn’t look away. His were wide with awe and something else that I couldn’t identify. But it didn’t matter. Nothing did, nothing but Bo’s safety.

My gaze and my focus shifted to Lars and I let go. Like exhaling a pent-up breath, I released what I was feeling, unleashed the rage, pouring every last drop on Lars in one mammoth surge.

A banshee-like screech shattered the cool night air. It reverberated through my soul and woke the forest. I saw Lars flinch. At first, his reaction seemed to be nothing more than surprise over the sound. But then, he looked toward me and on his bizarre face of faces was awareness. I was no longer someone to ignore.

For a fraction of a second, the world stood still. Lars and I stared at each other, eyes locked and wills clashing, until he stopped as well. All the movement that was inside him, all the movement that was him, simply ceased. And for one sweet moment, I could taste his fear.

I felt my lips pull up into a smile just before Lars exploded in a blinding burst of light that tore me off my feet and sent me hurtling through the air. I landed on my back with a breath-stealing thump and sat up immediately to look around.

Through the white spots in my vision, I could see that trees, even large trees, were flattened in a circle around where Lars had been. Dust and leaves were settling back to the earth in the aftermath of his brilliant disappearance and there was no sign of Lars, no sign that he’d ever stood in the woods across from me.

I scanned the forest, fully expecting him to pop back up somewhere else. I kept thinking that it was too easy, getting rid of him. For me—plain ol’ me— to get rid of someone supposedly so old and powerful, it had been far, far too easy.

When several minutes had passed and it seemed that Lars wasn’t coming back, I sprang into action, rushing to Bo’s side. He was barely conscious and he was bleeding badly. I pulled at the stake in his right shoulder, but it wouldn’t budge. I wasn’t strong enough to move it even an inch.

“Bo,” I whispered, stroking his cheek.

My heart sank when I got no response, so I tried a little more stimulation.

“Bo,” I called more loudly, tapping his cheek with my hand.

I thought I heard a moan, but I couldn’t be sure.

“Bo,” I shouted near his ear, pinching his earlobe between my fingers.

“Ridley,” he croaked.

I looked into his face and when I saw his eyelids flutter, my legs nearly gave out beneath me.

“Bo, I can’t get the stakes out. What do I need to do?”

His lids trembled with his efforts to open them, but still they didn’t rise.

“Follow the path to the cabin,” he instructed, his breathing shallow and labored. “Bring Lucius.”

Though I was afraid to meet a very old vampire like Lucius by myself, I was more afraid that Bo wouldn’t make it. That fear trumped any leeriness of Lucius.

“But what about you? What if more vampires come? I can’t leave you here alone.”

It sounded ridiculous, even to my ears. Whatever bizarre thing had happened with Lars notwithstanding, what protection could I provide Bo? I was still nothing more than a weak, fragile human.

“No choice. You have to go.”

Chewing my lip, I wrestled with indecision for a few seconds before Bo’s voice spurred me into action.

“Now, Ridley.”

Quickly, I bent and pressed my lips to his, promising, “I’ll be right back.” Not sparing myself even a brief glance behind me, I took off through the woods.

Turns out I didn’t have to travel very far. Bo wasn’t even out of sight yet when a man stepped in front of me, earning a startled yelp from me.

I didn’t have to wonder what he was. Between a very pleasant honeysuckle smell and his uber pale skin, I knew he was a vampire.

I was instantaneously filled with a fright that froze my muscles and locked my heart in a vise grip. But before I could panic, he spoke.

“Don’t be afraid, lass. I’m Lucius.”

His silky voice put me at ease right away, like an auditory valium. I felt my muscles warm and relax and I had to purposely resist the smile that tugged at my lips.

Though I wouldn’t have called Lucius handsome, I couldn’t deny that he was incredibly appealing. He made me want to giggle like a silly ten year old, something I didn’t do even when I was a silly ten year old.

Lucius had sparkling emerald green eyes and dark red hair that was parted in the middle and bound at his nape. Though his skin was alabaster white, it wasn’t hard to imagine him with the ruddy, freckly complexion typical of an Irishman, which was what I imagined he once was. Though his accent had all but faded, there was still a lilt to his voice that gave away his European heritage. He was positively charming and attractive in an inexplicable way.

“Let me tend to Bo,” he said, touching my arm with his cool fingers.

Lucius walked around me and made his way to Bo, with me fast on his heels.

I watched as he easily pulled the stakes from their place deep in the rock, freeing Bo’s body.

When the last stake was removed, Bo slumped lifelessly to the ground and my heart lurched. Lucius bent and threw Bo over his shoulder and turned back to me.

“This way.”

The cabin that had been our destination wasn’t far from where we’d been accosted. It looked simple enough from the outside with its log walls and small front porch, but the inside was something entirely different.

The entry level of the cabin was innocuous enough with its one-room floor plan that consisted of a tiny kitchen, a living room with a fireplace and a bedroom that lay behind a folding metal partition. Not including the front door through which we entered, there were three other doors dotted throughout. I assumed one was a bathroom, since it was near the bedroom, and the other looked like a pantry beside the refrigerator.

It was the third door toward which Lucius headed. Curious and a little nervous, I followed.

The door led to a long flight of stairs that descended many feet into the earth. It ended at another door. This one had a sophisticated keypad that required biometrics to open.

Shifting Bo to better free his hand, Lucius pressed his thumb to the pad, punched in a series of numbers and, with a soft click, the door popped open. Lucius stepped through and held the door so that I could enter as well.

I stepped into a grand parlor that looked as if it was lifted out of a Victorian mansion and deposited beneath the cabin, beautiful and perfectly intact.

The walls were painted a rich dark cream and trimmed with wide crown molding and decorative corner pieces. A huge fireplace dominated one wall. Above it hung a mirror with an ornate, gilded frame that looked like it cost a fortune and weighed a ton.

The floors were hardwood and covered in thick rugs that were brown, rust and cream in color. Atop them sat several small delicately curved, Queen Ann-style sofas and chairs, upholstered in brocade of matching hues.

In the center of the high ceiling was a crystal chandelier, its base surrounded by a large plaster medallion. It shed a soft warm glow over the entire room.

The crackling of the fire and the smell of roses completed the surreal scene. I was speechless.

With no thought to the furniture, Lucius deposited Bo on one of the couches directly in front of the fire, arranging his limbs comfortably before he scrambled out, muttering a low, “I’ll be right back.”

I crossed the room and knelt beside Bo’s head. I brushed the backs of my fingers over his clammy forehead and he stirred, wrinkling his brow and turning his face toward me. I saw his body tense and I stilled my hand.

Bo’s nostrils flared as he tested my scent, and then, as if he was satisfied, his frown disappeared and his tension eased. With a weary sigh, he relaxed back into the cushions.

Lucius returned quickly, carrying a bag of blood and an opaque half gallon jug.

“I don’t keep a very large supply of human blood on hand. I hope the one bag, coupled with the deer blood, will be enough to help him heal.”

Setting the blood down beside the couch, Lucius looked over his shoulder at me.

“Come, lass,” he said. “Lift his head.”

I hurried to Bo’s side, lifting his head while Lucius pierced the bag of human blood and waved it under Bo’s nose.

He held the plastic packet to Bo’s mouth and told Bo to drink. At first, Bo didn’t respond, so Lucius rubbed the bag back and forth across Bo’s lips until he finally opened his mouth and bit down on it.

Within seconds, Bo drained the bag. Beneath my hands, I could feel his body temperature warm a few degrees. I watched, fascinated, as life began to slowly seep back in to his features.

Next, Lucius held the sealed jug sideways against Bo’s mouth. With a loud pop, Bo obediently sank his teeth into the rigid plastic. I watched his throat work as he pulled large gulps of liquid down his throat. He frowned as if it wasn’t something he was enjoying.

When Bo had finished the animal blood, Lucius took the empty container and set it aside, turning to lean his back against the couch and stretch his legs out in front of him.

“Now, we wait,” he announced.

“Alright.” Though I agreed easily enough, I felt anxiety curl in my stomach, twisting it into a tight knot.

“I feel like I know you, Ridley, what with Bo talking about you so much.” Lucius rolled his head toward me, a pleasant smile on his lips. “And of course, I’d like nothing better than to use this time to get to know you better, but I would imagine that you have even more questions than I. Is there anything you would like to know?”

Was there ever! With nothing but time on our hands, I knew I’d have the opportunity to get a few answers, but not to the million or so questions that started clamoring for attention all at once in my head. One drifted to the top, however, taking the position of top priority.

“Can Bo be saved? From the poison, I mean?”

Lucius sighed, a sad look coming to settle on his face. “You would ask that,” he said. “No, lass, I’m afraid not.”

My heart broke a little bit more with his answer, like he’d been the final word on the matter, the one tiny thread of hope to which I’d been clinging.

“How long does he have?” I smoothed my hand over Bo’s brow, dreading the answer. Anything less than one hundred years was not enough.

“I can’t be sure. There aren’t very many vampires who try to kill themselves in this manner.”

“It’s not like that’s the only reason he’s doing it,” I snapped. Then, shaking my head regretfully, I apologized. “Sorry. I’m just- I’m just frustrated.”

“As am I, Ridley. As am I.” Lucius looked morosely into the flames licking greedily at the wood inside the fireplace. “He’s been like a son to me, a breath of fresh air in a long and lonely existence.”

“He said you’re four hundred years old.”

“The brat,” he chortled. “Telling a woman how old I am. And lying about it no less. I won’t be four hundred for another nine years.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “What was he thinking? I mean, nine years makes a world of difference when you’ve lived nearly half a millennium.”

Lucius smiled broadly up at me, apparently enjoying my sarcasm. “Oh, Ridley, what a joy you are.” When he sobered, he continued. “Yes, I’ve lived a long, full life, but now—after all these years—it seems it was full of loss and heartache more than anything else.”

I sat quietly for a moment, not knowing what to say to that. Finally, I asked, “Do you regret coming to America?”

“Good Lord, no! I love it here. It’s been like watching a child grow up. I only hate that now they’ve infiltrated this continent.”

“Who?”

“The Uccideres,” he answered, the “r” rolling off his tongue.

“Who are they?”

“To best explain them, I must first give you a short history lesson about the vampire. Do you mind?”

“No, no. Please.”

“It all started with the venom. It is said to have been given to man by the devil himself, a weapon through which he hoped to enslave the human race. According to legend, it nearly worked. But over time, as vampires learned to control themselves and learned the dangers of feeding off one human too often, we were able to settle down into a very peaceful existence.

“A code of sorts was adopted among that first small band of European vampires, who we now call the ‘Elders’. Humans were rarely turned, usually only for the purpose of preserving one’s mate. After all, it would be far too painful for a vampire to live without his mate, so not turning anyone was out of the question. Turning one’s mate is really the only option in such cases.”

Lucius paused, lost in thought, lost to something that took him from the present for a heartbeat. While he tarried elsewhere, a multitude of new questions rose to my mind. Before I could ask any one of them, however, he drifted back to the here and now to continue.

“Apologies, lass. I digress,” he said, clearing his throat. “What you saw tonight was an Uccidere. They are aberrations that arose from one elder many, many years ago. His name was Constantine.

“For centuries, Constantine had never been satisfied with the low-key way of life the vampires had adopted. Though he’d had his missteps every now and again, none of the elders ever expected that he might defy The Tribunal so completely. But, alas, he did. When he left Rome, no one could have anticipated the havoc, the destruction, the slaughter that he would wreak upon the human race. By himself, he was quite the scourge. Some say it is as vampires were intended to be.

“Before Constantine could be stopped, he had turned hundreds, probably even thousands of humans into vampires. That, however, was not an issue in and of itself. It was the kind of people that he turned that posed such a problem. Criminals, prostitutes, drug addicts, sex fiends, masochists, killers, thieves, all from the distasteful company he kept. Unfortunately, when they turned, they not only brought along many of their own hedonistic habits, but learned the way of the vampire from Constantine himself. It was a bloody, bloody time.”

“You said he was stopped, though, right?”

“Yes, but not before damage more than a thousand lifetimes could be done. Some of the world’s most notorious murderers have been traced back to Constantine or one of his people. Jack the Ripper, Attila the Hun, Amelia Dyer, Darya Saltykova. There were even some Americans suspected of ties to Constantine’s children, people like The Green River Killer and Son of Sam. The list is endless and spans hundreds of decades, but the vampire epidemic has never really been a confirmed threat in this country until recently.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that they must be stopped before another army, of Constantinian proportions, can be created. These days, it’s easy to see why legend claims that the venom was born of the devil to destroy mankind. It is a power, a thirst that only the strong can contain, can manage without giving in to the euphoria of it, the thrill and the pleasure of it.”

An odd look came over Lucius’s face, a look that made the hairs on my arms prickle. I could tell he was lost again—somewhere, some place in time, in sensation—and for some reason, I was afraid to bring his attention back to me. Survival instinct maybe.

After a few tense moments, his expression cleared and he turned to me and smiled. I was glad to see that he had returned from…wherever.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you wanted to use this time to learn about vampires. I just assumed that you would want to know what happened to you in the woods.”

His statement puzzled me. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand what you mean.”

“My guess is that Bo has fed you, at least once. Is that right?”

“Yes, but how—”

“The poison affects humans differently.”

“The poison?” I felt the blood drain from my face. I hadn’t even thought of that. I wondered if Bo had. “How did you know?”

“Even if I hadn’t seen what you did to that Uccidere, I would’ve known by your skin.”

“My skin?”

“Yes. Standing in the forest, you looked just like Bo does after he ingests the poison.”

In perfect clarity, the image of the gangrenous color spreading across Bo’s nearly translucent, cracking skin came to mind. Reflexively, I looked down at my arms. I was incredibly relieved to see that they were the same medium olive tone that they always were.

“But- but—”

“Oh, you will only be able to see it when Bo’s in danger. It’s your body, your blood reacting to his. You share a common bond.”

“When Lars exploded, is that how I- I did that?”

“Yes.”

I struggled to wrap my mind around it, but I just couldn’t get there. “But how?”

“Many strange and powerful things lie in the blood. The venom changes it, mutates it in various ways and, depending on the person, a broad spectrum of reactions can occur. For example, most vampires can affect a fair amount of influence over humans, an ability that only gets stronger with age. But some are so powerful, they can literally compel humans to do anything, even things that would bring pain and harm to themselves. It is a very dangerous ability.”

“But I won’t turn into a vampire from just drinking it, will I?”

“Oh, no. You have to be infected with venom for that to happen. But when you drink infected blood, its properties sort of enhance your human traits. You may experience better hearing, vision, healing, strength and speed, but it is usually short-lived unless you ingest blood regularly.”

I shuddered. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

“Many humans like the augmentation, but even more, there are those vampires who would use it.”

“Use it? How?”

“Unfortunately, in our history, some vampires have made a weapon of sorts out of humans. A vampire can turn several humans and feed them his own blood. His ‘children’ then go and feed their blood to any number of humans that they drink from, giving that one vampire—the father of them, if you will— control over the masses. Through his ‘sons and daughters’, he has access to the minds of all the humans they’ve bonded with.”

While I was assimilating all that Lucius had revealed, I busied myself smoothing Bo’s hair. It was then that I noticed his deteriorating condition.

His skin had begun to cool again and his gray-green pallor was deepening.

When I looked to Lucius, he was frowning.

“What’s happening?”

“It appears the animal blood is not going to be enough to supplement the human blood.”

“Can you give him more?”

“No. It’s all I have.”

“Is he going to get worse?”

His frown deepened. “That is a distinct possibility.”

My mouth gaped open. While Lucius might be alright with that outcome, I certainly was not.

“Can’t you get more?”

“I could hunt, but the animals can sense me, which means that they are scarce around here these days. I have to travel quite a ways to find prey.”

That didn’t sound very promising and I searched desperately for another option. And then I found one.

“Wh-what about me?”

Lucius cut his eyes to me in a look that gave me pause. “That’s not an option.”

“But why? It could save his life, right?”

“Yes, but it could risk yours.”

“How so?”

“It’s possible that he could accidentally inject you. In his current state, I’m not sure his control is completely intact.”

Although that did cause a trickle of fear to ripple through me—living an existence like Bo’s for eternity, only without Bo—I only hesitated for one short breath before I came to the conclusion that no cost was too high.

“I don’t care. I’m willing to risk it to save him.”

“Bo would never forgive me.”

“Yes, he would. Eventually. Besides, he’s worth it. He’s worth anything.”

Lucius eyed me, a smile curving his lips. “You love him.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an observation. A very good, very accurate observation. There was just no denying it anymore.

“Yes. And I can’t lose him. Not yet.”

“But there are other risks.”

“You mean the bond?”

“No. I mean a risk to your life.”

“What other risk? Bo didn’t say anything about—”

“Bo doesn’t know.”

“What? Why?”

For the first time, I started to feel a little suspicious of Lucius. He was telling me that, after all this time, there were things Bo didn’t know, things that Lucius himself hadn’t told him. But why? Why wouldn’t he have told Bo everything? That just didn’t make any sense. It seemed to me that Lucius was trying to convince me to let Bo die, something I would never do.

“You know that Bo is dying,” he said. When I nodded, he continued. “At first, he was so disgusted with what he’d become that he refused to drink human blood at all. It wasn’t until revenge took hold that he began to use the blood bank supply to sustain himself. But only until he could find his father’s killer. At that time, I saw no reason to tell him what he could do to humans. He had enough self-loathing without all the finer details. Since he began tracking and killing the Uccideres and draining them—poisoning himself—it hasn’t been an issue simply because the poison affects the thirst, suppresses it, so that he doesn’t crave fresh human blood like he would otherwise.”

I nodded, resisting the urge to gloat when I told Lucius, “Bo told me that.”

“What he didn’t tell you, what he doesn’t know, is that when a vampire drinks from a human, he feeds on more than just the blood. That is why animal blood cannot sustain us in an equal manner. We feed off of life. Each time a human is fed upon, it drains them of a portion of their essence, shortening their lifespan.

“I’ve seen humans, after having been fed on only twice, turn into something akin to the walking dead. They become decaying, mindless shells of the people they once were. Their lives, the minds and bodies, become dominated by a hunger of their own. They’re insatiable, violent. Some, it only takes one feeding, some more. Again, it depends on the person. Stronger humans can take more…abuse than their weaker counterparts. But a vampire can never be sure which variety he’s feeding upon. That’s part of the risk.”

I chewed my lip as I considered what Lucius was saying. What if he was telling the truth? Bo had admittedly already fed on me once, and, though many would probably argue the point, I seemed to be fine. But what would another feeding do to me? Make me some kind of zombie?

I thought of the recent reports of suspected mad cow disease and I wondered if they had anything to do with the rash of vampire attacks. Though I wanted to know, I refused to ask. I didn’t want to be swayed, dissuaded from saving Bo for any selfish reason.

“I’m willing to take the risk, but I have one question. Why didn’t you tell Bo? Whether he technically needed to know or not, he deserved to know.”

Lowering his head, Lucius at least had the good grace to look contrite. “Bo was so devastated by what he’d become, by his father’s death, by his own survival, I didn’t have the heart to tell him what a danger he was. Not until it became necessary anyway. And, fortunately, it hasn’t become a necessity.”

“Until now,” I clarified.

“Until now,” he agreed with a somber nod.

With dread and anxiety gnawing insistently at my stomach, I took a deep breath and straightened my spine.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Bo’s worth it. He’s had too much pain and anguish in his life for it to end without him finding justice for his father, and he won’t be able to do that dead, so…”

I thought I saw a flicker of admiration flash in the green eyes of Lucius, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Alright then. Come,” he said, offering me his hand.

On shaking legs, I rose, letting Bo’s head fall gently back to the couch as I took Lucius’s hand. I knelt beside him on the thick rug, my face right in front of Bo’s grayish-green one.

I looked to Lucius for direction. His expression was one of sad resignation, but despite his reservations, he nodded toward Bo.

“Give him your throat.”

Feeling the tremor in my fingertips, I released Lucius’s hand, not wanting him to know how afraid I was. I looked at Bo’s sweaty face and my resolve strengthened.

Scooting forward, I leaned over him, positioning my neck directly over his mouth.

“Is this good?”

“Perfect,” Lucius replied quietly. “Now we need to stimulate him. Bo,” he said, speaking sternly. “You need to feed.”

I closed my eyes and waited. I had no idea what to expect, but I felt like I had a pretty good idea of what to fear. I just wanted Bo to hurry up and bite me so that I wouldn’t start thinking of all the reasons I probably shouldn’t be doing this.

“Bo,” Lucius repeated, more harshly this time. “You need to feed. If you want to find your father’s killer, you must feed.” There was a hard edge to Lucius’s voice, one I suspected he thought might infiltrate Bo’s stupor and reach his foggy brain.

Still, there was no movement. I could feel the tickle of Bo’s breath on my neck, but that was all.

Then Lucius shook him. Hard. “Bo!”

Nothing.

“Bo,” I said, thinking that my pleas might jar him awake. “Please. You need to drink.”

Nothing.

“Bo, please!”

Still nothing.

I leaned back and looked from Bo to Lucius and back again.

“He looks worse,” I said of his shiny skin and generally unhealthy pallor.

“If we can’t get him to respond, to drink, there will be no hope.”

I whirled on Lucius. “Then do something!”

Lucius’s jewel-like eyes bored into mine. “If I hunt, he could be gone by the time I get back,” he warned.

“Then I guess you’d better hurry,” I snapped coldly.

Reluctantly, Lucius stood, looked down at Bo for another few seconds then turned on his heel and he was gone. I didn’t even see how he left the room. He was just gone. I didn’t see or hear the door open. I didn’t see or hear him running or moving. He was simply there one minute and not the next.

With a shudder, I turned my attention back to Bo.

“Bo, please wake up,” I pleaded, stroking his cheek. “You can’t leave me yet. I’m not ready. We haven’t had enough time yet.”

My voice broke on the last and I swallowed hard. I didn’t want him to hear my upset. He needed my strength, not my weakness.

“Bo, if you ever had any feelings for me, open your eyes and look at me.” When I got no response, I added, “Now!”

He was so still, he could already have been dead for all I knew.

I put my ear to his chest. In the quiet, I could make out the slow, steady thump of his heart. I knew that as long as I could hear that, there was still a chance to save him.

In repose, his usually animated mouth was relaxed. His lips were not too thick, not too thin; they were just right. Chiseled. Hard. Manly. Perfect.

I reached out and touched the tip of my finger to them, tracing the smooth contour. Impulsively, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his.

The intoxicating smell that was distinctively Bo’s flooded my nostrils and washed over my senses. My throat clenched. The prospect of no longer smelling that scent was unthinkable.

I leaned back, just enough to lick my lips. I thought I might be able to taste him, but I couldn’t. I wanted to take it in, take a part of him into myself, to hide it away for safekeeping. I wanted something of him that I never had to let go, something that would never fade or die.

I closed my eyes against the tears that threatened and pressed my lips to his once more.

A sob shook me and my lips moved against Bo’s. When it passed, I still felt movement beneath me. I gasped. Bo’s lips were stirring under mine, ever so slightly. I increased the pressure and, much to my relief, Bo responded, deepening the kiss.

By his fervor, or lack thereof, it was evident that he was still weak, but he was alive, alive enough to curl my toes and make me remember why I’d risk my life to save him, even for one more day.

My eyes flew open when the significance of his kiss fully penetrated my mind. He was awake. If he was awake, he could feed.

Pulling back just enough to break contact, I said, “Bo, you need to feed and I want you to drink from me.”

Bo groaned and shook his head in one firm motion. He was resisting.

“Please, Bo. I want you to.” I kissed him again, hoping to draw him in with passion. “Please,” I sighed into his mouth.

His breathing increased, becoming more ragged, but still he resisted. “No,” he whispered.

“Bo, you will die if you don’t feed. I know it’s going to happen eventually, but please don’t leave me yet. Please. I’m begging you. I want you to drink from me. I want to be bonded with you forever. I want to feel you when you’re gone. At least give me that. Please.”

When I pressed my lips to Bo’s this time, I was taking the proverbial gloves off. I put my hand on his chest and leaned up, sinking into the kiss. I let my tongue slide between his lips and glide over the silky interior of his mouth. I reveled in the sweet taste of him.

Again, he kissed me back. Not exactly vigorously, but it was enough to let me know that he was quickly coming back to the land of the living.

“Bo,” I moaned, tearing my lips from his.

Scooting up over him, I straddled his hips, crushing my breasts to his chest and pressing my throat to his mouth.

“Bite me, Bo. Please. Take it.”

My heart was booming inside me and I was suspended between desire and fear, a very heady combination. Every sense, every nerve, was tightly focused on Bo and his mouth.

When I felt his lips open and his tongue touch the flesh of my neck, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. My skin was hypersensitive and his cool tongue felt like ice—smooth, sensual, wet ice. My belly trembled with want.

“Please,” I whimpered, shifting on top of him, craving the contact, the friction of his body against mine.

An instant before he gave in, I knew I’d won. I felt it somewhere deep inside me, like he was coming home, and I was his home. There was a flash of utter completion, of perfect peace right before I felt the sharp pinch of his teeth piercing my flesh.