Blood Shadows (30 page)

“Are you crazy?” she asked, raising her voice. “You better chill out, Bray. What is your problem?”

The boy’s feet felt like shifting pillars against the ground, quaking and rising beneath him, and for a moment, he started to feel afraid of what was happening. “My problem? What’s your problem?” His voice wavered, betraying his underlying insecurity. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why are you being so…sneaky?”

Kristina frowned then. “It’s not sneaky, Braden. It’s called
privacy
. And I have a right to it. Damn, why don’t you just…go find a crossword puzzle or something?”

Braden widened his stance, planting both feet approximately a shoulder’s length apart and bending his knees. He was trying to appear threatening and had instinctively fallen into an attack stance. “Who was on the phone,” he repeated, sounding more predatory than he had ever sounded before—the guttural tone of the words rolled out on a snarl.

Kristina took a step back, for the first time appearing unsure. “It was just a friend—some girl I used to know from the casino, okay?” She walked over to the couch, picked up her diary, turned on her heels, and started to leave the room. “I’ll talk to you later, Bray, maybe after you’ve calmed down.”

Braden felt hot tears sting his eyes, and he hated feeling so weak in the face of a potentially serious situation. “Stop!” he yelled, sounding more desperate than commanding.

Kristin spun on her heels angrily, squaring off to face him, and by the heated look in her bright blue eyes, she was no longer playing around. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped. She pointed her finger at him and waved it as she spoke. “You might be my friend, but you ain’t got it like that. Comprende?”

Braden felt like the room was spinning around in circles now. “I’ll do what I want,” he argued, knowing he sounded crazy. “And you better start listening.”

Kristina shook her head, incredulous. “Whatever!” She waved her hand in a brisk dismissal and turned to leave the room again.

To Braden’s utter surprise, he shot across the space at lightning speed, not at all sure if he had flown or dematerialized to get there that fast, stopped directly in front of her, and squared his ever expanding adolescent shoulders, creating a wide barrier to block her path. “You’re not going anywhere, Kristina!”

“Excuse me?”

“Not until you answer my questions first.”

“Get out of my way, Braden. I mean it.”

“I can take the answers from your mind if you won’t give them to me,” he threatened.

“Cannot,” Kristina snapped, sarcastically.

“Can too!” he argued.

“Can. Not.” She punctuated each word separately.

“
Can. Too.
I can do whatever I want! I’ve dug into people’s minds before.”

Kristina smiled then, but there was nothing lighthearted or congenial about it. “Oh, what are we talking about now? Katie Bell? The little girl who you almost
lobotomized
while trying to play wizard? The mess that Nachari had to clean up for you?” She leaned toward him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “You mess with my head in any way, Braden, and Marquis will have your hide.” Her voice rose proportionately as she continued to counter his threat. “Not only is it forbidden, but I highly doubt you’re even capable of it. More than likely, you’d just…accidentally kill me. Is that what you want?”

Braden felt like he was going to cry. And why was that, anyhow? He was a male in the house of Jadon, a warrior in the making, a vampire with the burgeoning skills to one day be a great wizard, besides—why was he letting her get to him like this? “Don’t you talk to me like that,” he barked defiantly, unable to think of a better comeback. “I want to know who you were talking to, and I want to know
now
.”

Kristina shook her head in disbelief. “
Braden
…” She lowered her voice. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m not going to stand here and argue: It’s none of your business, and that’s the end of it.”

Braden felt himself shaking. “It is, too, my business.” He cleared his throat, searching for a better argument. “If I’m going to mate you one day, then you’re damn right, it’s my business.”

Kristina laughed then, and Braden was surprised at how much the derisive sound hurt. “Oh my God, Braden,” she snickered. “Are you serious?” She rolled her eyes, as if whatever he was thinking wasn’t even worth the time it took him to think it. “You are not going to mate me one day, Braden. That was just…you trying to be nice because I happened to be feeling down.” She took a step back and looked at him distrustfully. “Seriously: Are you okay? Do I need to call Marquis or something?”

Now that was just insulting.

Braden looked down at the ground. When he finally raised his head again to meet her gaze, he felt heat envelop his body, and his senses heightened—his eyes narrowed their focus, and his hearing grew more acute. “Why have you been lying to me?” he asked, speaking almost too softly to be heard.

Kristina took a step toward him. “Wow…okay, this conversation really is over.” She gestured toward the hallway, making it crystal clear that she wanted him to step aside so she could leave the room. “Move.
Please
.”

“I asked why you’ve been lying to me,” he whispered.

She stared at him for a minute and then squared her jaw. “Move, Braden.”

He stood his ground.

She brought both hands up, placed her palms squarely on his chest, and shoved him—hard. “Move!”

Braden dug in his heels, surprised that his body didn’t budge. “Just tell me why—”

“It’s none of your business!” To his absolute shock, she kicked him in the shin with the spike of one heel and elbowed him in the gut, shouting, “I said
move
!” Her face flushed red. “I’m not playing with you anymore, Braden. You’re acting crazy—like an asshole—and I’ve had enough. Get out of my way!”

He stared at her in shock. He couldn’t believe that Kristina was actually being this mean to him—especially when
she
was the one who was lying.

Furious, she glared at him and grinded her teeth. “You know what? You’re trying way too hard to act like Marquis these days—you’re not my boss, and you’re not my mate, and you’re never going to be!” Her voice continued to rise with anger. “And in fact, contrary to what you might believe, you’re not a warrior or a wizard yet, either!” She stomped her foot and leaned toward him. “You’re just a fifteen-year-old boy who’s about to get slapped if he doesn’t get out of my way. She was just about to shove him again when all at once he whirled around like an angry lion, a supernatural hunter outmaneuvering its prey.
Now, move!
”

He locked his right arm tightly around her waist, pressed his chest hard against her back, and gripped her chin with the fingers of his left hand, instinctively tilting her head to the side to expose her jugular. Before she could move or even protest, he released his fangs and pressed them hard against her vein, the sharp tips piercing her skin deeply enough to draw a trickle of blood, and then he growled deep in his throat, issuing a clear, feral warning: “I may be a kid, but I’m still a male.” As power surged through him, he spoke in a harsh, heavily accented voice. “And I
am
Vampyr.” He bit down ever so slightly while inhaling her scent before slowly adjusting his fangs. “And you
will
yield.”

Braden heard his own voice as if it belonged to someone else.

Someone older. Someone wiser. Someone far, far more powerful…

As the words drifted around in some ancient, unknown memory, his canines continued to throb with a growing, almost inexplicable need. There was something he wanted. Something he couldn’t name. Or even understand.

Not blood.

Not power—well, not really…

Dominance
.

Absolute, unyielding control.

Braden Bratianu wanted to break Kristina’s will and impose his own; he
needed
to etch his identity into her very DNA for all time so she would never challenge him again. He could not—
he would not
—have his manhood tested by this female or any other. The very idea of it made him want to drink her blood until she grew weak and limp beneath him, cowering at his superior strength.

The idea of being emasculated by her went against his very evolution.

He may very well be a boy—just fifteen years old—and he may very well be known for all of his mistakes, mishaps, and messes, but he was still a male…and a vampire…and a member of the house of Jadon, and he would not kowtow to the defiant whims of an obstinate woman like a sniveling idiot.

Not now. Not ever.

He tightened his grip, daring her to move or resist.

After what seemed an eternity, Kristina finally swallowed and wet her lips, preparing to speak. “Bray?” Her voice was shaky and unsure.

He closed his eyes and tried to find himself again. To lose the haze.

“Braden?” she repeated his name. “Please…let go.”

At last, her body yielded like a limp noodle. There was no resistance left, whatsoever, and the contrasting reaction from a woman who had just moments ago been so spirited and defiant left him feeling confused and unsure.

He relaxed his arm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely.

“It’s okay.” Her voice was hesitant. “Just…just let me go.” She wrenched her neck free from his teeth.

When he finally pulled away and stepped back—and glanced down at his body just to make sure it was really his—he could have heard a pin drop in the room. Kristina was staring at him like he was an alien; and honestly, he kind of felt like one.

What in the world had come over him?

“I’m sorry, Kristina,” he repeated, appalled. “Did I hurt you?”

She smoothed her clothes and shook her head. “No…no…I’m cool.”

“Are you sure?” He felt like the world’s greatest bully.

“Yeah…yeah, that was just—wow.” She forced an insincere smile. “You’re a trip, you know that? There’s way too much going on with you, I swear.”

Braden nodded. It was true. Every time he turned around, something strange and unexpected popped out; and he didn’t know if it meant that he was becoming more of a vampire—finally growing into the species he had been converted to—or just more of a mess. But jumping all over Kristina? Now that was just crazy. Wrong. And he needed to figure it out before he said or did anything else that might make him act even crazier.

Hanging his head in both shame and bewilderment, he whispered, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Kristina shook her head slowly, still staring at him like he had mud on his face…and maybe with a little newfound respect. “No…not really…I mean…” Her voice trailed off, and she reached up to rub her neck. When she brought her hand back down, her fingers were coated with a light film of blood.

Braden’s stomach did a strange, queasy flip. “Do you need some venom?” he asked, reaching up to awkwardly feel the edge of an incisor. He wasn’t entirely sure if he could make one come down.

Kristina shook her head. “No…that’s cool, but thanks, I’ve got it.” She turned her head to the side, as if a bit embarrassed, released one of her own incisors, and dripped some venom onto a finger. Then she dabbed the small puncture wounds at her neck and shrugged. “See? All better.”

Braden nodded, and then he looked away, unable to face her. He had never felt so awful in his life. How could he have attacked Kristina? Okay, so
attack
was too strong a word, but still—despite their differences, and her obvious head-trip over Ramsey, they were supposed to be friends. And with Nachari gone, with the other brothers so busy with their mates or at the clinic, Kristina was really all he had for now.

“I really am sorry,” he said.

Kristina shrugged her shoulders. She stepped forward, approaching tentatively, and slowly wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a gentle hug. “It’s okay, Bray—really. It’s not like we both aren’t still trying to figure out this whole vampire thing, right? The only oddballs converted for reasons other than the Blood Curse.” She released him, stepped back, and smiled. “Besides, in a way it was pretty cool—that you can get all predatory, wild, and stuff like that. Just don’t do it to me again, okay?”

Braden nodded vigorously. “I won’t! I swear it.”

“Cool,” she said, “and drop the third degree? Please?”

Braden frowned. He still had a lot of questions—and he still felt like he deserved honest answers—but he could hardly press her now. After what he’d just done, he would be lucky to keep her friendship. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“Braden?”

“Yeah,
yeah
.” He swallowed his pride in an effort to let it go. “I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

“Then you’ll drop it?”

He frowned, feeling defeated. “Yeah…I’ll drop it.”

For now.

nineteen

Valley of Death and Shadows ~ Sunday

Nachari Silivasi jolted awake in his stiff, uncomfortable bed, disturbed by the sound of an iron key jiggling in the lock of his heavy prison door. He rubbed his sleep-filled eyes, struggled to catch his bearings, and immediately leapt from his horizontal position on the dingy mattress to the other side of the room, perched low and ready in the corner.

Ever since Suirauqa’s visit—and the mayhem that had rapidly ensued—he kept a much more watchful eye. Yes, he was still a prisoner at the mercy of his captives, but he was also a vampire on a mission to make it home. Alive.

As the door slowly creaked open, he rocked back on his heels, ready to strike if necessary and face Ademordna’s wrath later. Of course, that depended upon who it was. If it did happen to be the Supreme Ruler of the Middle Kingdom—Ademordna himself—then he would just have to take his medicine as he always did, comforted by the knowledge that there were only nine days left in his Blood Moon—seven before the deadline he had given Noiro would come to pass.

Gods and goddesses,
be faithful
—please let the crazy demoness succeed in her mission.

As a spattering of unnatural light shone through the broadening crack in the door, his lethal eyes fixed on a stumpy, diminutive form shuffling into the room; and Nachari had to shake his head to clear his vision. The demon, minion—whatever it was—that entered the cell could not have been more than three and one-half feet tall, more like a child than a man. However, his gruff manner and obvious masculine features made it crystal clear that it was indeed an adult, a fully mature demon.