Blood Possession (38 page)

Knowing that Kristina shared their blood—and their vampiric existence—the Silivasi brothers had adopted her as their sister, and Marquis had agreed to take care of her financially for the rest of her life. And the rest, as they say, is ongoing history.

“Kagen is trippin’ for real,” Kristina explained, gesturing wildly with her arms. “I walked up to him and was like,
Yo Kagen
, and he just looked right through me. So I was like,
dude, do you not hear me talking to you?
And he practically yelled,
Nachari is fine!
I was like,
okay, Mr. Hyde…
shit!”

Jocelyn smiled. “He’s just overwhelmed. Nachari is the same.”

Kristina nodded. Then she walked right past the women, went straight to Braden, and knelt down in front of him. “Hey, Bray,” she whispered in a voice so kind it could hardly be recognized as hers. “How’s my favorite little brother?”

Braden smiled briefly, then shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Nachari still hasn’t…” His voice faltered, and he didn’t try to finish the sentence.

Kristina reached for his hand. “Yeah, I know. But that’s okay. He’s probably just busy somewhere…you know…out there in the spirit world kicking some serious demon ass. You know Nachari: If he’s having a good time, then we’re just gonna have to wait.”

Her words brought a genuine smile to the boy’s face, illuminating his soft burnt-sienna eyes. “You think so, Kristina?”

She nodded convincingly. “Yeah, I do. For real.” She stroked Braden’s hand lovingly. “He’s not gone. Not Nachari. No way.”

Jocelyn looked at Ciopori and smiled. “Some wonders never cease.”

“How very true,” Ciopori said. “It is odd—the relationship she has with the boy—although, I suppose not so much when you consider how much time she spends at Nachari’s place.” Her face constricted with sorrow when she spoke his name. “I imagine there is somewhat of a bond there as well.”

Jocelyn nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Kristina, for all her crude, elementary, and in-your-face ways, had made a strong impact on everyone in the family, including Marquis. Maybe the time they had spent together had meant something after all; although, whatever Marquis and Kristina had shared, it was nothing compared to the love he felt for the beautiful woman standing in front of her.

Jocelyn sighed. “I kind of like her myself.”

Ciopori laughed, then. “Yes, me too.”

Kristina turned around and rolled her eyes. “Newsflash, everyone: I’m not human anymore. I can hear you!”

Jocelyn and Ciopori laughed.

Just then the door to Nachari’s room opened, and Katia stuck her head out. “Excuse me, but Marquis is about to inject some venom in his hand to heal it. However, before he seals it up, I would like to remove some metal fragments that are lodged in the bone. Would one of you mind fetching a pair of tweezers from the basement supply closet for me? There aren’t any in here, and I can’t leave Nachari unattended—”

“Just leave the damn things in there!” Jocelyn heard Marquis grumble from inside the room.

She cringed.

Ciopori shook her head. “Try to be agreeable, warrior,” she called, loud enough for him to hear her. He responded with a deep, throaty growl, and she smiled. Placing her hand on Jocelyn’s arm, she winked at the nurse. “Jocelyn and I will both go fetch the tweezers—we could use the exercise, anyhow.”

“Speak for yourself, sister,” Nathaniel mumbled, his witty voice echoing from inside the room.

Ciopori huffed. “That is not what I meant!” She gave Jocelyn an apologetic glance. “I didn’t mean you needed exercise—”

“I know what you meant,” Jocelyn teased. “Where do we find the tweezers, Katia?”

“At the end of the hall, through the last door on the right. They’re in the glass cabinet on the third shelf down.”

“Got it,” Jocelyn replied. Turning to Ciopori, she took her by the hand and hauled her in the direction of the stairs. “Come on, C,” she said, mimicking Kristina, “let’s go for a short walk.” Raising her voice, she added, “We could
both
use the exercise, anyway.”

She heard Nathaniel’s chuckle as the door to Nachari’s room swung shut.

twenty-six

Tiffany stood directly behind David Reed as he shimmied open the back door to the clinic, making fairly easy work of it—either vampires were not very concerned with high-quality locks, or they were not very afraid of intruders. She had a sick feeling it was the latter.

Having arrived with David and five other soldiers from the vampire-hunting militia about fifteen minutes ago, the team had been forced to wait while a brown-haired male wandered further away from the property after speaking briefly to a red-haired woman. Tiffany didn’t know for sure what a vampire looked like—she had only seen the ones that had taken Brooke—but watching the way the tall, handsome male moved, the barely leashed power that radiated from his body and the easy gait of his steps, which mimicked a lion on the prowl, she had no doubt that he was one of them. The militia had gone to great lengths to mask their scent with a special blend of herbs created just to fool vampires, and then David’s team had moved with an uncanny stealth and grace all their own.

“Shh,” David cautioned. He held a finger to his mouth and then ushered her ahead, gesturing for her to enter the building just behind his men. Apparently, he was going to take the rear. “If there’s anyone here, we’re prepared for them; but keep in mind, they have incredible hearing.” He whispered the words in a barely audible voice. “I’d rather catch one of them by surprise than be caught by surprise myself. Understand?”

Tiffany swallowed hard and nodded, noting the sweat beading on David’s forehead. They were prepared—beyond prepared—with their dangerous cache of weapons: His team had brought tranquilizer guns, each filled with enough tranquilizer to bring down an elephant in three seconds flat; semiautomatic nine-millimeters, each one loaded with a full magazine of diamond-tipped bullets; lethally sharpened stakes; and long, curved machetes used for…beheading. She shook her head in disbelief. She had to admit she had been impressed by the arms they carried—she couldn’t even imagine what a diamond-tipped bullet must cost.

Just the same, it was hard to believe they were really here—that all of this was really happening.

A part of her still insisted it wasn’t real.

Yet she knew that it was.

Brooke had been gone for ten days now, and there was no mistaking what Tiffany had seen in her dream; there was no mistaking the similarities between the predatory male who had been walking outside of the clinic and the terrifying … creature … who had taken Brooke away the last night of the conference. Vampires were real. And her best friend was in the clutches of one now. She shivered and murmured a quick prayer, fingering one of the three crosses she was wearing. Sure, David had told her that the whole crosses and holy-water thing was a myth—one that might just get her killed if she relied on them—but she figured a little extra protection couldn’t hurt. Better safe than sorry.

“Hang in there, Brooke,”
she whispered beneath her breath, “we’re going to find something useful here today, and these men won’t rest until you’re back home safely. Neither will I.”

They had just entered the building and were walking down a long, narrow corridor, when they heard a door open at the far end of the hall. The voices of two women carried through the hollow space, and two distinct sets of footsteps could be heard descending a staircase. David held up two fingers. With eyes as sharp as an eagle’s, he pointed to the right, signaling for two of his men to take cover in a nearby room. He directed the remaining three to the left, just across the hall, and then he backed into a doorway, pulling Tiffany tight to his side and eyeing her with a stern warning: “Stay right here. No matter what happens, do not confront one of the vampires.” He withdrew his tranquilizer gun and held it up against his chest. “If things get ugly, get the hell out of here…as far away as you can.”

Tiffany’s eyes grew wide. “You said there wouldn’t be any vampires around, and if there were, they would be sleeping at midday.”

David shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I was wrong.”

Tiffany tried to calm her racing heart. Panicking wouldn’t do her any good. She tuned into the hushed murmurs of the women and listened: They sounded relaxed, like friends…normal. “What if they’re human?” she asked, her heart suddenly sinking into her stomach. “You’re not going to shoot first and ask questions later, are you?”

David stared right through her. “If you wanna ask one of those things to identify itself before you strike, that’s your business; but I prefer to live to see tomorrow.” He held his arm out across her body and pushed her further back in the doorway. “Now, shut the hell up, or we’re both going to die.”

Tiffany frowned.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?

The voices grew louder as the women exited the stairwell and began to walk down the corridor. Shit, they seemed to be walking this way—coming all the way to the end.

David shifted the tranquilizer gun to his left hand and slowly withdrew a long, sharpened wooden stake. He nodded at one of the soldiers across the way, and some kind of unspoken communication passed between them: a plan of action.

Good God, was he going to try and stake one of the women?

This was insane!

These were
normal
people—not vampires—and in her desperation to find Brooke, she had all but joined a fanatical cult.

Tiffany was just about to turn and run—get the hell out of there and away from these overzealous nut-jobs—when the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She stopped and held her breath, listening to her intuition. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but something was off—and it felt very much like the night Brooke had been taken.

There
was
something different about these women.

She backed up as far as she could, trying to mold herself to the door—make herself invisible—as she continued to hold her breath. The women drew closer, caught up in the rhythm of their conversation…completely unaware of what was waiting for them.

As the first of the two passed in front of the doorway, Tiffany’s eyes met hers in a frozen moment—it was as if everything ground to a sudden halt and then began again in slow motion: The woman was positively stunning, and her eyes were almost unnatural. She had golden pupils with amber-hued lights dancing in the centers, appearing very much like sunlight reflecting through diamonds. Her long, raven hair swayed as she walked, and her face was almost…antique…in its beauty, as if not of this time.

The woman’s eyes grew wide, and she started to turn and run, but not before David bounded out of the doorway. He raised his arm high above his head, grasped the wooden stake solidly in his hand, and threw his entire weight into the thrust, impaling the beautiful woman right over her left breast. And then he gripped the end of the wood with one palm and used the other to drive it home.

The woman gasped and stumbled backward. Stunned, she slowly looked down at her chest and stared in disbelief at the protruding wooden object. When she staggered back a few more steps, the second woman rushed forward and caught her.

Shocked and incredulous, the second woman slowly lowered her friend to the ground. “
Ciopori…Ciopori…
”
The second woman kept repeating her name…and then it was like someone flipped a switch in the second woman’s head, and full recognition of the situation suddenly kicked in. The woman went into some deep, instinctual mode—like auto-pilot on an airplane—and the calm, focused look on her face said it all: This woman was no stranger to combat, and their small group was in trouble.

Evan Turner, one of the three soldiers hiding on the left—and the closest man to the second woman—shot out of the opposite doorway with a similar stake in hand, but before he could connect with the pretty, brown-haired female—drive the stake in from behind—she spun around and delivered a lightning-fast roundhouse kick to his head.

Tiffany screamed as Evan’s feet left the ground, his body slammed into the wall, and his skull imploded upon impact. The woman looked straight at her, and she took two steps back. Dear God, what had just been beautiful hazel eyes had turned a deep, coral red, and there was a low, unnatural rumble in the woman’s throat. The two remaining soldiers shot out of the doorway in an effort to pin the woman where she stood, but she quickly bent down, swept Evan’s gun out of its holster, and turned, while spraying the room with bullets at the same time. And then she did some sort of back flip—walking it off the freaking ceiling—as she landed further down the hall in the midst of the men and snapped one of their necks before he even saw her coming.

David released a tranquilizer then, scoring the woman directly in the shoulder. She pushed the remaining soldier off her and turned to face David, bringing the gun up in an expert, two-handed grip. She knew exactly what she was doing, but before she could squeeze the trigger, the two soldiers who had been hiding in the doorway to the right opened fire, unloading their magazines into her jerking body.

The remaining soldier from Evan’s group hit the deck even as David snatched Tiffany by the waist, threw her to the ground, and covered her body in an effort to protect her from ricocheting bullets. And then, after what seemed like thirty seconds or so, the room was quiet.

“Is she dead?” the disheveled soldier from Evan’s group asked. He sat up on his knees and eyed the second woman’s body warily.

David scurried to his feet. “Hell no,” he barked. “Neither one of them is dead.” He dropped his tranquilizer gun and motioned toward the soldier’s hip, where he kept a sheathed machete. “Take her head—and then her heart—before she regenerates!” He drew his own machete from its scabbard and motioned one of the soldiers to his right, forward. “Get over here, Roger.” He held out the machete.

The short, stocky man walked quickly to his side. “Yes, sir?” He took the weapon from David.

“We don’t have much time to case the place now; you finish this one, while Miss Matthews and I try to retrieve what we came for.” He turned toward the only other remaining militia member. “Don, you stay here in the hall and keep a lookout.”