Ambrosia (Nectar Trilogy, Book 2) (11 page)

At the sound of those words, words that sounded like they were ripped from the bottom of Tristan’s gut, Kyla’s crying went uncontrollable. Big stuttering broken sobs. Tristan kissed her forehead but let go of her.

“No, we’ll be there tomorrow. I need to take her somewhere for a while and … and … 

No…he got away.

No, I’m cool. I said I’m fine, man. She’s not okay but she will be ‘cause I’m gonna fucking kill that motherfu---

No… Sam’s heading to you as soon as he finishes clean-up at the scene.

Two security guards. Ripped throats.

Yeah, Sam said it worked but it was wearing off a few minutes later when he got near her.

Whatever.

Can Liam track her now that he’s fed? Anything else I need to know?

Fine. You check your end and make sure no one is fuckin’ feeding him info.

Better not be!”

Tristan left the vehicle. Kyla was shivering. She spotted a bottle of water in the half-zipped duffle bag so grabbed it and started to drink it. She choked a little but then got some down. Then she opened the door and poured water on her still dirty hands and then wiped with the rest of the tissue from the car. Tristan was outside pacing back and forth on the sidewalk of the residential side street while talking on the phone.  She couldn’t hear him. She poured the last of the bottle of hand sanitizer on her hands.  She wished she could bathe in it.

After a few minutes he got back in, grabbed a t-shirt out of the bag and put it on, then got out and into the front seat and started to drive. Kyla was still in back, shivering, hiccupping, eyes shut tight.

After a few minutes they were at another hotel. It was another high-end swanky hotel, definitely too high-end for the fact that she was wearing a bloodstained jean skirt and a man’s button down shirt (that was torn) over a bloodstained tank top.

He opened the back door and took her hand and their bags and then they walked in and to the front desk. He checked them into a room under an alias, telling the desk clerk not to ask any questions and telling the clerk not to remember him but to contact him if anyone asked questions about him.

He waved off a bell boy who offered to take the bags, carrying them himself, and then they were in a second floor hotel suite, the bellboy following.

It was big, luxurious. Tristan dropped the bags and then tipped the bell boy who’d opened the door. As he attempted to give them a tour of the room and explain their amenities Tristan said, “Get the fuck out. You’ll have no memory of us,” and then he locked the door.

She sat on a sofa, arms around herself. Tristan went to the bar and poured a big glass of something and downed it. Then he disappeared into the bathroom and she heard water running.

He was back. He picked up his phone and started to dial, “Go wash his stench off,” he bit off.

Kyla jerked in surprise.

His eyes instantly went sorrowful, “I’m sorry. Sorry. Please, baby, go wash your hands really well and then take a bath. I have calls to make. I’ll get food. Are you okay? Are you hurting? Need me to help?”

She shook her head, “I’m okay.”

She wasn’t. Not remotely.

She pulled the plug from the bath he’d started and instead showered. Robotically. She felt dirty. So dirty. So, no bath. No way did she want to sit in water that held any part of him.

Nothing had entered her veins while Liam drank, nothing like emotion. All she’d felt was cold. And with that cold had come immense strength to push him off. But then he’d caught her off guard and fed again and then he was stronger, so strong that she couldn’t fight him off.  She’d felt no further cold.

Any woman would find Liam Donavan attractive. Kyla, before falling for Tristan, would’ve thought so, too. But what’d happened was absolutely repulsive. If Sam hadn’t come when he did, Liam probably would’ve drained her. Or, at the very least, he’d have stolen her away with plans to get the most out of her he could before he drained her bone dry out of greed.

What was Sam’s story? And what was with that medieval-looking bejeweled dagger?

After getting as clean as she figured she could get, she found a hotel robe and wrapped it around herself and padded back out to the bed. Tristan was just ending a phone call. He was looking out the window, his back to her. He tossed the phone down and thrust his hands through his hair and let out a big breath.

“Hey,” she whispered.

His shoulders slumped and then he turned around slowly and looked at her. He looked pained, hurt, sad. Really sad.

“Hey. Come here,” he said but then he moved to close the distance and took her into his arms. He was smelling her. He sniffed her throat and then sniffed and examined her hands. He walked her to the bed and they got on it. He held her close. She put her face into his chest and inhaled his sweet scent and closed her eyes. She fell asleep in his arms, his palm on the back of her head and his other arm around her waist.

She woke up, still in his arms, her cheek and her fist on his chest. She looked up at his face. He was staring at the ceiling. His face was like stone. His eyes were still dark. Not black but not quite bright blue. His expression was so hard and so angry.

“I have things to tell you,” he said.

She nodded and sat up.

“There are a lot of things you need to know all outside this Liam shit. And the Liam shit…it’s too fucking much on its own.”

He was quiet a minute, then said, “But I have to kill him before he gets near you again. But right now I need you to tell me what happened.”

“He knocked when it was time for you to come and I didn’t look out, I just…I opened it cuz I thought it was you or room service. I shouldn’t have opened the door.”

“Babe, he killed the security guards. Sam found them dead. Even if you hadn’t opened it, he would’ve gotten in.”

Kyla shivered, remembering the two men in the stairwell.

“What happened?”

“He bit me a bunch of times but didn’t get much blood because I kept knocking him back. It was like I was stronger than me but not strong enough. He kept coming at me. I kept feeling these, these…cold surges in my body with this strength I didn’t know I had but then it was gone. It was there but then it was gone.”

“Fuck.”

“Tristan, please feed.” She threw her arms around his neck, “Feed from me and make love to me, make love to me gentle and sweet and cover what he did and do it until I’m exhausted so I can sleep this off. I need to sleep some more. A lot more. I need to sleep this away.”

He shook his head, “I can’t fucking touch you that way.”

She choked on a sob, thinking that he wouldn’t touch her because he felt like she was still covered in his stench. Her heart plummeted to the bottom of her stomach.

“No, princess. It’s not what you think,” he whispered as she let out an audible sob.

“You’re ovulating,” he added.

“I’m what?”

“You’re ovulating.”

“I’m ovulating?”

“Yeah.”

“Ovulating?”

“Yes. I knew it the second I got to you outside the hotel in that alley.”

“How?”

“You just are. I can’t tell yet if he… if he fertilized...” The sourness on his face felt like a kick in the teeth, “It’ll take a few days for me to tell if---”

“He…he was inside for a second, barely inside, not even all the way. I don’t think he could’ve. As soon as he started to try to get in, Sam burst in.”

Tristan breathed out slow and squeezed his eyes shut tight, looking so relieved. But it only lasted a split second and then his eyes went stone cold, “You’re mine.”

“I know.”

“That motherfucker!” He flipped her and started scenting her all over. He inhaled at her stomach, put his nose between her legs, got back to her throat and inhaled.

He sat up and then let out a slow breath, “It’s too soon to tell but I don’t think he got you preg…” He didn’t finish the word, “I need to go. Find him. Fuckin’ kill him. How do I do that and keep you safe at the same time?”

“Honest, babe, he wasn’t even all the way in. Mostly it was his hand down there and at my chest. He’d only started to try to get in but he didn’t get far. I was so … so dry…”

He growled, looking like he wanted to smash something.

“Lure him to us,” she said, “then get rid of him.”

He nodded, “It might happen anyway. He wants more. I know he does. I don’t know if he can track you or not now that he’s fed multiple times. Adrian doesn’t think so. But if I fail…he’d drain you. Or, he’d get you pregnant and then you’d probably die giving birth to his, his...”

“Tristan,” she sighed, voice full of pain.

“Right now, all I want to do is get you pregnant. Then no one else can. I want to fuck you and feed from you so I’m sure to be strong enough to crush him and anyone else who comes after you. So you’re strong enough, too. You gain strength every time I feed, too, baby. It’s all I can do to stop myself. It’s like I have this primal need that I have to fight off. That probably means he didn’t get you and you’re still ovulating and I want to fuck you until you can’t walk, I want to plant my seed in you so fucking much. It’s all innate. All of this is. But if I do it, giving birth will probably kill you. If I leave you to go off and try to catch him, I put you at risk of being caught and killed or getting pregnant and if he doesn’t kill you, you probably die as you give birth to
his
baby.”

“God…”

“If I lure him to us, you’re not safe. If something went wrong…  and there’s so much you don’t know. So many things I found out. Fuck.  And you could’ve fought him off but you’re still weak from my almost draining you before and then not feeding from you yet today and
I
put you at that disadvantage so he fed and then he fed again, making him strong enough that you couldn’t fight him off. If he feeds again…I’m a bad guy, princess. I’m not good. I’m not your prince charming. The only reason I didn’t kill you out of hunger that first time is become of my bloodline and self-control. Vampires take. Kill. Deceive. It’s what we are. We are entitled, we believe humans are made to serve us.
You
were made to serve me.”

She shook her head.

“You were! Wait until you get the truth. Fuck. You’ll understand then. You need to know that we do not hesitate to kill, lie, steal, cheat. If you can’t serve us or feed us, we kill you. Unless we find a reason to turn you. Then you become what we are. If I didn’t love you and that love didn’t wake up some latent humanity in me,
I’d
kill you before sharing you with someone else.

And he’s not super vampire or a royal. He’d absolutely kill you. He killed his enchanted blooded pet and that sent him on that killing spree. What kind of a threat will he be on
your
blood? He’s out there now, processing it, getting stronger after feeding from you. And you’re ovulating so it was innate for him to try to fuck you,” his nostrils flared, “He probably waltzed in there with no intention of sex but then couldn’t fucking help it. I’ve got to stop him.”

“Okay, I have questions…”

“I have so much to tell you. So much.”

“Sam? Why was he there? How come he didn’t attack me?”

“That’s part of the problem. Sam. Fuck. If he wasn’t there, Liam would’ve done more damage. He probably would’ve taken you and run. But the fact that he was there is not a good thing because it means I’m dealing with even more disloyalty. Sam found Liam but then followed him here; clearly he figured out which hotel I’d booked us into. Then Sam was hot on his heels. Sam is on that experimental drug Adrian wants to use on me. That’s why he didn’t attack you. But Sam should’ve warned me. He clearly has more loyalty to Adrian than me.”

“Okay, listen to me for a sec..” she said, “What if you make me what you are. Then Liam can’t take me, kill me, or get me pregnant. Make me become a vampire and then it solves all our problems.”

“No fucking way.”

“But isn’t that how this is destined to go?”

“What?”

“Standard vampire romance, right? The vampire falls for the human, the human falls for the vampire, and then she becomes a vampire and they live happily ever after? Isn’t how this goes? That’s how it always goes.”

“No. Not even close.”

“Why not? You were turned. What if I…”

“No. Most female vamps are even worse than males. They’re diabolical. They’re cold. If I’m rotten, a female vamp is festering and putrid. I refuse to make you into that. I’d give up your blood, never again have it or the nectar, I love you
that
much that I don’t want you to be a vampire. You won’t be you. And even more important, you won’t wanna be you. There are things worse than death for you. And being a female vamp is worse than being dead. If I turned you, you’d hate me.” He stopped and got a faraway look in his eyes, then softly added, “Just like Becky. Only with you, I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

“Becky?”

“Rebecca is a walking, talking, blood-sucking piece of hatred. She hates me for turning her.”

“Wait. What?”

“Andre loved her and she was dying. She had a brain tumor the size of a grapefruit. He was keeping her, feeding from her, loving that she wasn’t mesmerized. He fell for her and hard. She was the sweetest fucking thing, baby, the sweetest girl. So fuckin’ full of life. She was on the verge of death and I was newly vamp and I was working for Andre. He’s from a strong bloodline and he was teaching me the ropes, grooming me. And I saved her on her death bed by turning her. For Andre. For her. So she wouldn’t have to die. He was losing her and he was a mess and I told him to turn her but he said he couldn’t, that she wouldn’t be Becky anymore. She was wasting away and I was so green, still so human-like that I didn’t believe it could be
that
bad, so
I
turned her, thinking I’d help him keep her but it was a mistake. She wasn’t the same. Rebecca became evil, hateful. Now they’re in a prison together.