Bound By Blood (17 page)
Authors: Amanda Ashley
She turned away, sickened by the sight.
“Katy, we need to go. There may be others.”
“The . . . the body. We can’t just leave it. . . .”
“Yes, we can. I need to get you out of here.”
Feeling numb, she started to walk. She had gone only a few steps when Zack swung her into his arms. She felt an odd sensation, as if she was flying.
When the world righted itself, they were in her room in the Fortress.
Zack set her on her feet, his hands folding over her shoulders to steady her. “Are you all right?”
She stared at him, her face pale, her body trembling. “You could have been killed.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t. Are you all right?”
“No, but I will be.”
“Did you recognize that guy?”
“He was one of us, wasn’t he? I mean, like me. A Romanian vampire.”
Zack nodded. It seemed odd that he could sense her kind when she couldn’t. Of course, he hadn’t been able to detect them, either, until he identified their particular scent, which made him wonder why Kaitlyn couldn’t detect it. The only thing he could think of was that her human blood somehow blocked it.
Kaitlyn blinked, her mind clearing as the initial horror faded. “We need to tell my father about this right away.”
She didn’t wait for Zack’s reply, just took his hand and hurried out the door.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he muttered as they went to find her father.
Chapter 25
Drake stood in front of the hearth in the library, his arms folded across his chest, his face implacable, as Zack related what had happened.
“You took my daughter out of the Fortress,” Drake said, biting off each word. “You knew her life was in danger, and yet you took her hunting.” He shook his head. “I think it best if you leave here now.”
“No!” Kaitlyn had been sitting on the sofa beside her mother while Zack spoke to her father. Now, she jumped to her feet. Moving to Zack’s side, she linked her arm with his. “If he leaves, I’m going with him.”
“You will not.”
“I think we all need to calm down.” Elena crossed the floor and placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Zack didn’t have to come here and tell us what happened, but he did. Kaitlyn, did you recognize the man who attacked you?”
Kaitlyn frowned. “I don’t think so.” She smiled apologetically. She didn’t know any of Rodin’s sons and daughters very well; it didn’t help that they all looked very much alike.
“I can take you to the body if that’ll help,” Zack said.
Drake nodded curtly. “Kaitlyn, stay with your mother.”
“Be careful,” Elena said. “There could be others out there, just waiting.”
Drake kissed his wife on the cheek. “We will not be long.”
Drake scrutinized the scene of the confrontation, his senses expanding, drawing in the fresh smell of blood and death. And the unmistakable scent of Marius Korzha, another of his half brothers. Did Nadiya intend to send her sons out one by one to avenge the deaths of Daryn and Florin? And when she ran out of sons, would she send her daughters and her grandchildren, as well?
He felt no sorrow for his half brother’s death. Marius had made himself Drake’s enemy the minute he lifted a hand against Kaitlyn. If Ravenscroft had not killed Marius, Drake would have done so without a qualm.
Drake had brought a blanket with him. Spreading it on the ground, he placed Marius’s body and severed head in the middle, then wrapped the blanket tightly around the grisly remains.
“Gonna bury him?” Zack asked.
“No. I am going to send him back to his mother.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Drake shook his head. “I am going to send the body to her house in Bucharest. If Nadiya is not there, one of her other children will advise her of his death.” Drake looked at Ravenscroft. “You are in this now.”
“I figured I was in it when I killed the first one,” Zack said with a shrug. “But, hey, bring her on. The sooner we kill her, the sooner Kaitlyn and I can get out of here.”
Drake regarded the other vampire a moment before asking, “Are you as powerful as you seem to think you are?”
“I don’t know. I’m about a hundred years older than you are. Even so, I think your way of life makes you weak.”
No sooner had Zack spoken the words than he felt a sharp blast of preternatural power. Had he been mortal, it would have knocked him off his feet. But he wasn’t mortal, and he had power of his own, which he now directed at Kaitlyn’s father. Supernatural energy crackled in the air between the two men, singeing the leaves of the trees, scorching the earth.
“Had enough?” Drake asked.
Zack snorted derisively. “Is that the best you’ve got?”
With a rueful shake of his head, Drake reined in his power. Zack Ravenscroft was truly a vampire to be reckoned with. And even though it galled Drake to admit it, he feared the other man’s power was, indeed, stronger.
As soon as Drake reined in his power, Zack did likewise. He probably should have let Kaitlyn’s father win their little pissing contest, he thought ruefully, but it just wasn’t in him to back down.
The two men stared at each other a moment, then Drake hoisted the blanket-wrapped body to his shoulder and willed himself back to the Fortress.
Zack remained where he was, his senses sweeping the countryside. Blood was a wonderful thing, he mused. Giving Kaitlyn his blood, drinking hers, had enhanced his powers, sharpened his senses. Had it done the same for her?
Once he was certain there were no other vampires lurking in the area, Zack willed himself back to the library in the Fortress, only to find it empty.
He waited a few minutes, hoping to see Kaitlyn, then made his way to his room at the end of the corridor. Stripping down to his briefs, he stretched out on the mattress. Arms folded behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling.
It had been a strange night. He was used to being in the company of humans, but he had never seen vampires and humans mingling the way they had in the ballroom earlier that evening. Like Drake, some of the vampires had chosen to marry humans, which in itself was a rare occurrence, at least in Zack’s world.
But things were different here, in the Carpathian Coven. Right or wrong, vampires and mortals had found a way to coexist, each benefiting the other. It would take some getting used to.
And then there was Nadiya. What kind of woman—vampire or human—sacrificed her living children to avenge two dead ones? Three dead now, Zack amended. And he had been responsible for two of them.
As for taking Kaitlyn hunting—he blew out a breath. All things considered, he had to admit that it probably hadn’t been the brightest idea he had ever come up with. But it had sure as hell been fun while it lasted. Watching her take pleasure in her vampire nature had been a remarkably satisfying thing to see. He knew, from his own experience, that Kaitlyn would never be truly happy until she accepted the whole of who and what she was. Only then would she be comfortable with both sides of her nature—at home in her own skin, so to speak. He thought he had helped her achieve that more fully tonight. It bemused him to discover that her happiness was more important to him than life itself.
Plagued by a nightmare, Kaitlyn woke before sunrise, and then, unable to get back to sleep, she left her bed and went into the kitchen, where she fixed a cup of peppermint tea and honey, hoping it would help dispel the last vestiges of her nightmare—a horrible dream in which their attacker had been the victor and it had been Zack sprawled on the ground in an ever-widening pool of blood, his head separated from his body.
She carried her tea to one of the tables in the dining room and sat down, the cup cradled in her hands while she went over the events of the past night.
It had started off so well, being with Zack. The movie had amused him. He had laughed from time to time. Occasionally he had whispered the dialogue along with the actors. When she asked, he admitted he had seen the film dozens of times. Later, they had danced. As always, she had reveled at being in his arms, feeling his strength, seeing the love in his eyes, hearing it in his voice. Hunting with him had been exciting, an adventure like none she had ever known before. For the first time in her life, she had embraced her vampire half, and because of it, she felt stronger, more confident. Yes, it had been a wonderful night, until they started for home. And now, because of her, Zack had killed two men and his life was in danger. Or maybe the blame lay with Florin.
She knew the story of Florin’s treachery. Knew it had happened the night the Master of the Irish Fortress had challenged her grandfather for control of the Carpathian Fortress. Rodin had defeated the challenger, and then Florin had darted forward and stabbed Rodin in the back with a long wooden stake. In retaliation, her father had killed Florin. The matter should have ended there. A life for a life. Now, more than twenty years later, two more of Nadiya’s sons were dead. Why had Nadiya waited so long to exact vengeance for Florin’s death? When and where would it end? Who else would have to die before it was over?
She stared at the cup in her hands. Lost in thought, she had forgotten all about the tea and now it was cold. Pouring it into the sink, she left the kitchen. Without conscious thought, she found herself standing outside Zack’s room.
She placed her hand on the door. Was it locked? Was he asleep? It was not yet sunup. She pressed her ear to the door, but heard nothing.
She tried the knob, surprised to find the door unlocked. She slipped inside, her gaze moving immediately to the bed. He slept on his back, one arm flung over his head, the covers pooled around his hips. His chest was bare. She swallowed, her fingertips pressed to her lips lest some sound betray her. Was he naked beneath the sheet?
Mesmerized by the sight of him, she stood there, avidly admiring the spread of his shoulders, his long muscular arms, his broad chest and flat belly.
Moving closer, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, gasped as his hand closed around her wrist, his fingers like iron.
“Zack, it’s me!”
“Katy?” He stared up at her. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you decided to wake me up?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be asleep already.”
“There was nothing else to do.” His gaze moved over her face. “Do you think it’s wise, your being in here?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Katy, you silly girl, I think you know better than that.” He lifted the covers in invitation. “Come, join me.”
Kicking off her slippers, Kaitlyn slid under the blankets, sighing as Zack’s arm slipped around her shoulders, drawing her close to his side. She was relieved—and disappointed—to discover he was wearing briefs.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek.
“Me, too.” She ran her fingertips over his chest. “It’ll be dawn soon. The sun’s coming up.”
“I know. I can feel it.”
“Can you? What does it feel like?”
“I don’t know how to describe it. It’s sort of like liquid fire running through my veins.”
She grimaced. “Sounds awful.”
He shrugged. “It comes in handy.” Sleeping when it was his choice was entirely different from the Dark Sleep that claimed him with every sunrise.
He stroked her cheek, then kissed her lightly. He could feel the lethargy stealing over him as the sun slowly climbed over the horizon, felt it dragging him down into a dark abyss that ended in a deep black void.
“Zack?”
“I love you,” he murmured, and slid into oblivion.
Chapter 26
Nadiya Korzha’s blood ran cold as she folded back the bloodstained blanket and stared at the grisly remains of her son. Grief quickly turned to rage, hardening her desire for vengeance a hundredfold. Marius had been her oldest son. And her favorite child.
Raising her head, she gazed at the people clustered around her. “Who did this?”
There was a lengthy silence before her youngest daughter, Marthe, answered, “No one knows. We found his . . . his body outside the front door of the home place and brought it here.”
Nadiya lowered her head, nostrils flaring. “Sherrad,” she hissed. “I should have known.” Hands clenched, she stood, her body trembling with outrage. First Florin. Then Daryn. And now her favorite son. “All of you, leave me.”
One by one, her sons and daughters filed out of the room.
Nadiya stood there a moment, breathing heavily as she surrendered to her grief and then, as if swaddling a newborn babe, she wrapped the blanket around his remains and carried it into her bedroom. Placing her burden on the bed, she removed his bloody clothing, and after filling a basin with warm water, she gently bathed his body, then dressed it in a clean suit of clothes. Lifting his head, she washed his face and brushed his hair.
When that was done, she carefully bundled his remains in a blanket pulled from her bed and carried it outside.
Cradling his body to her breast, she let her tears flow unchecked.
The blanket was wet with her tears when she lowered him gently to the ground beneath the branches of a towering oak. Using her own two hands, she quickly dug his grave.
“I will avenge you,” she whispered, lifting him into her arms once more. “I swear it by everything I hold dear.”
She held him close, reluctant to let him go as she recalled the wintry night he had been born. Her labor had been long, but the pain had faded when she saw the pride and happiness on Rodin’s face.
The sun was rising when she floated, as light as a feather, down into the grave. “Rest well, my son,” she murmured as she lowered him onto the ground. “Rest well.”
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