Last Vamp Standing (24 page)

“I was wondering why you asked earlier, when we were in the moment. I thought you were being a gentleman.” With a tug and a spin that took Dante off guard, Ariana tossed him back onto the bed. She straddled his hips and rubbed against him, skin to skin. “I was a virgin in the sense that I didn’t know my true maware.”

His hands kneaded into her backside as confusion puzzled his brow. “But your maware is astral-projecting. You had to know it. It’s how you got to the black market in the first place.”

“Yeah, but Juan Carlos didn’t know that.” A devious flare heated her middle as she adjusted herself over the rock-hard top of him.

Every marbled muscle in his body went still. “I need you to know one more thing.”

Oh God.
“Yes?”

“This was my first time . . .” His onyx eyes shifted, as if he was embarrassed to speak the words. “This was the first time that I ever allowed myself to . . . finish. If you know what I mean.”

Ariana softened over him, going pliant in his arms.
He
was the virgin. “I know what you mean, but . . . how? Why?”

“It’s difficult to separate physical from sexual hunger. Once I’m fed, once my needs are met, my body shuts down. But with you . . .” He thrust his hips, a tiny movement that made Ariana’s eyes roll back. “ . . . it’s a whole new world. I’ve never felt anything like this before. With you it’s different.”

She rolled her hips, shivering with desire as his shaft swelled inside her. “Then different is damned good.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“The end is near, and we’ve got front-row seats.”

W
ATCHER
A
RCHIVE, REPORT ON
S
AVAGE

D
ANTE’S STRENGTH WAS
returning. Faster than he thought it would. It frightened the hell out of him. Especially because it meant he had to either resist the voices and push them to the background—which he didn’t know if he’d be able to do—or stay the hell away from Ariana so she wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire when the ticking time bomb inside him exploded.

As if she knew he was thinking of her, Ariana made a little mewing sound in her sleep and snuggled tighter against him. Something shifted in his rib cage. He pulled the covers over her shoulder and tucked them under her neck.

He was playing with fire. This couldn’t continue. He cared too much . . .

She’d fallen asleep hours ago, nestled in his arms, tangled in her sheets. They’d made love twice more since he revealed the truth about his nature, and he still wasn’t sure she fully understood what they were getting themselves into.

What
he
was getting himself into.

She may think that what happened between them was a one-time thing—she hadn’t said as much—but he didn’t feel that way. Not in the slightest.

The longer he was with her, the more her skin brushed against his and the more she revealed the goodness of her spirit, the greater his resolve to make sure no other male stepped within ten feet of her.

She was his.

Yet he couldn’t stake any kind of claim to her. Only an inconsiderate ass would promise a future by her side when a hunger pain could strike at any moment.

No, if he wanted to be with Ariana, the only option was to invest in Nightshade and harvest his own crop in the cemetery. But he’d be naïve to think Savage was the only threat they’d ever meet, wouldn’t he? When the next Big Bad came waltzing through town, how could he provide the type of protection Ariana would need, the type of protection she deserved, if he was sapped, his bones replaced with twigs and his muscles with limp rags?

Lost in thought, Dante stroked Ariana’s hair well into the afternoon. He wondered what she was dreaming about. What made her twitch, tiny little jerks like she was running from something? And who was she talking to that made her lips pucker just so?

God, she was beautiful.

She had warm brown eyes that simmered with wit and intelligence, a smile that could light the dark in his heart, and a touch that soothed something inside him.

Beyond the physical though, Ariana seemed to know Dante was different, a freak who did things that couldn’t be explained, yet she’d stayed in his arms anyway. She listened to the skeletons in his closet rattle and moan and didn’t run. She let him feel the deepest, most private part of her.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, stroking his hands over her hair, brushing a few loose strands out of her face. “I’d rather die than let harm come to you, by my doing or another’s.”

He planted a kiss on her forehead, wiling the promise to tunnel deep.

She heard him. Looked up into his eyes and said, “I don’t know when Savage will return or for how long we’ll be able to stay like this, but I know you won’t hurt me.”

“I give my word that I’ll protect you,” he said. “If nothing else, you can trust me with that.”

She could trust him to walk away and bear the pain of separation, of cracking his very soul in two, as long as it meant she was safe.

“I know,” she said.

But she didn’t get it—not really. She probably never would.

She arched up and kissed him, moaning against his lips. Every other sound in Dante’s world faded away. Most importantly, the voices remained in the background.

As he pulled back, Ariana’s gaze stayed on his. Glossy. Dreaming.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, kissing her nose, her lips.

“I’m thinking of you,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his hair. “Of how my life was before you. How it’d be without you.”

“And?”

“I don’t even want to dream of it.”

“Then don’t. Not yet.” His heart soared as an idea struck him. “Ariana, what would you say if I asked you to run away with me? To go somewhere where I could guarantee our safety, far away from anyone and everyone?”

He could live on Nightshade, drink the stuff until he was blue in the face and numb to the voices. Drink until all he could hear and think and see was Ariana. And if they could run away where no one could find them, Ariana would be safe. He wouldn’t have to worry about Savage or any other psycho finding them. They could hide in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, build a cabin and live off the land. They could survive in Death Valley, invest in bikinis and harvest cacti. Or they could keep moving, faster, farther. Wouldn’t matter.

Their happily ever after could really happen. As he stroked her shoulder, feeling her skin blossom with chills under his hand, Dante went and did the thing he promised himself he’d never do.

He soared. Breathed deep.
Hoped.

It was the wrong thing to do.

With a sigh, Ariana’s arm fell against his chest. “That kind of future can’t happen. I can’t leave Black Moon.”

“Sure you can,” he said, desperate to make her see the picture he’d painted in his head. “I could provide for you, make sure no one could find us. I’ve lived on my own my entire life. We could leave tonight if you wanted to.”

“It’s not about that.” She held up her arm, twisted it so that Black Moon’s emblem faced him. “This mark was formed on my arm long before the Watchers branded it into me.”

“What?” He traced the raised red marks over a crescent moon and buried sword. “How?”

“In my twenties, after I fleshed out my maware, it started showing up. It was a series of dots at first, fine lines that’d fade and darken depending on how many times I projected.” She paused, turning her arm so that the branded sword caught the harsh afternoon light. “At the beginning, when the lines were light, I thought it was a mark that came with my maware. But then I realized the mark only darkened and the lines only deepened when I astral-projected from inside Black Moon’s walls.”

“Holy shit.” It all made sense. “That’s why you project from those pits in the forest.”

“I had to figure out a way to make it go away, and nothing helped. The Watchers only darkened it, branding it so it’d never fade. But it was always there, hiding just beneath my skin.” She paused, looked up at him. “I’m tethered here, Dante. Every time I’ve projected from this place, I’ve taken a piece of Black Moon’s energy with me. And I think, somewhere along the way, some of my energy has anchored here.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t leave. Maybe if you continued to project outside of Black Moon, as far away from here as I could get you, the mark would fade again. Who knows? Maybe with a little time it would disappear completely.”

“It’s more than a mark on my arm and a transfer of energy.” She stroked two fingers over the crescent, from the thin tip to its fuller center. “I can feel this place inside me. I know when the haven is threatened and when the Seekers are called out to defend it. I feel the weakening of the haven’s barrier and the sea spray weathering the walls on the western side of the haven. I’m more than a long-time resident here, Dante. I’m a part of this place as much as it’s a part of me. If I left, I’m sure it’d fall. And I might, too.”

“So you can’t leave,” he said, thinking about how stifled he would feel having to live in one place for the rest of his life. And if he couldn’t whisk her from this place, he was back to blank square one.

“You say that like it’s a horrible thing, that I’m trapped with no choice, but I love it here. I wouldn’t want to leave if I could anyway. I’ve accepted my fate. And I’ve been happy until I realized what was happening around us.”

“Who else knows about the mark on your arm and how you feel about this place?”

“Echo. And now that he squealed to the Watchers, they know, too.”

“What about your Primus?”

She hesitated, breathing shallow. “Maybe.”

“It’s easy to see he’s attached to you, but so is everyone else around here.” Dante paused, his mind working double-time. “Do you think—no, I’m probably reaching.”

“What?” She sat up, allowing the sunshine to slash bright streams across her face. “What are you reaching for?”

“You’ve astral-projected every elder to the grounds, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And each time you’ve astral-projected out of Black Moon you’ve absorbed some of its energy, transferring some of it onto you?”

“I see where you’re going,” she said, her almond eyes narrowing in disbelief. “But that can’t be right.”

“What if each time you’ve projected with an elder in tow, you’ve unknowingly dusted some of their energy onto you?”

“You’re being absurd.”

“Am I?” He propped himself up on his elbow. “They whisper when you’re near, as if your very opinion of them matters so much that they’d crumble if you heard something you didn’t like. They depend on you, and rumor has it no elder has ever left this place. I’ve heard that once an elder enters Black Moon, they stay indefinitely.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “Elders have left. When we had a blood shortage long ago, elders left to the city in a mass exodus.”

“Before you were the one responsible for bringing them here,” he guessed.

“I guess
theoretically
what you’re saying could be true.” She chewed on the side of her lip, thinking. “If that’s the case though, I brought you here, too. Is that why you claim to feel so strongly for me? Because of some lingering energy that dusted off when I projected you here?”

“Actually, you never projected me anywhere. I teleported us out of the black market each time. You may’ve had something to do with why we ended up where we did, why my trajectory was thrown for a loop, but you haven’t had a chance to affect me how you’ve affected the others.”

“If I’ve affected them at all.”

“Right.” Riding a wild, impulsive wave, Dante leaned over and suckled her nipple into his mouth. And as the first wave of hunger niggled its way into his stomach, Dante said a silent prayer that he could fight it off for at least another twenty minutes. Maybe thirty. “You’ve affected me in other ways, Ariana, and I’m afraid I’ll never be the same.”

“Then let’s just see if I can affect you harder this time.” She pressed his mouth to her breast and fell back onto the pillows, pulling him right down on top of her.

Chapter Twenty-Four

T
WENTY MINUTES SLIPPED
by much too quickly, thirty passed without a blink, and forty beat down Dante’s door with heavy fists.

He couldn’t afford to wait much longer. He either needed to feed—which wasn’t an option considering he couldn’t bear the thought of pulling the sexual energy from Ariana, and certainly not from another woman—or drink more Nightshade.

Both options were unacceptable.

While Ariana curled up in his arms, he told her everything about the uprising of his voices, how they drowned everything out, overtaking him, consuming him to the point of delirium. He explained what Pike had told him—the Nightshade, the mark, all of it. Ariana remained cool and collected, asking questions and chewing over his answers.

No one had ever accepted him before. Not the way she did.

He even took a leap by admitting his hunger was increasing. It was like announcing the running of the bulls. Ariana was neither surprised by his admission nor charging out the door to safety.

Instead, she stroked his back. Kissed his shoulder. And told him to make use of anything he needed in her suite before he left.

He showered quickly, setting the water to scalding, and jumped out before she got any insane notions like following him into the steam. By the time he shoved on his leather pants and tugged on his shirt, he picked up the sweet melody of Ariana’s voice. Talking to someone in the other room.

“Bring all the weapons you can dig up,” she said, “and bring a few friends.”

Had he heard her right? Was she gearing up for war or delegating the restocking of Black Moon? Curious as hell, Dante emerged from the bathroom. And caught his breath.

Ariana stood by the armoire talking on her cell phone, fully dressed in a black dress that he could only describe as Gothic Chic. Black lace gloves that cut off at the fingers stretched up to each elbow. Silver necklaces dangled past a low-cut neckline. And slick black boots peeked from beneath the ruffled bottom of her dress. Were they knee-high boots? Thigh-high? He wanted to skim his hands up the smooth span of her legs and find out.

He sneaked up behind her and ran his hands beneath her gown. She smacked him away and turned, smiling, shushing him with a finger against her lips. He kissed her finger and sat on the edge of the bed to put his boots on.

He chastised himself for ever thinking Ariana was plain. She was anything but plain—magnificent, Gothic, serene, heart-stopping. Nowhere near plain’s vicinity.

“Okay,” she said, “See you then.”

I’m back, cowboy,
a gravelly voice whispered in Dante’s ear,
fuck her and you can get some peace for another few minutes.

He stood up, headed for the door. “I’m sorry to skip out, Ariana, but I gotta run.”

Literally. He’d run until his feet bled if it meant he could satiate the voices for another minute, another hour. Jump off the highest cliff into the coldest water if it’d spark the smallest buzz of adrenaline. He’d teleport to Mirage and beat some back-alley trash if he wasn’t so worried about Savage attacking Black Moon while he was gone.

“Wait a second,” she said, following in his wake. “There’s something I want to show you. Something I found in the cemetery.”

He turned around, staring her in her angelic face. Her skin was too radiant, the curve of her cheekbones too soft.

Stick around. Suck her soul. That water’d be fine.

He tuned out the voices and simmered down the blood that had begun to boil in his veins. He held a rein on his hunger, but it’d slip through his fingers soon enough.

“What’d you find,” he said, stepping into the sixth-floor foyer. “You can tell me on the way down, but as soon as we hit the lobby, we’ve got to go our separate ways for a while.”

“Perfect.” She smiled, lighting up the hall. “I’ll take as much time with you as I can get.”

He thought the exact same thing. Until a hunger pain slammed into him right as the elevator doors hissed shut.

“Stay over there,” he hissed, his fangs humming behind his gums. “It’s coming on fast. The Nightshade must’ve been pumped with something to fuel my hunger hotter once my body digested it.”

“Like MSG in Chinese food.” She stated it simply. As if the Nightshade, his hunger, the voices in his head were all normal. A walk in the park.

“And to think I didn’t even get a fortune cookie.”

The voices mashed into a dizzying raucousness. Dante held onto the brass bar against the wall as the elevator whisked them down.

“Shoot, Ariana. Clock’s tickin’.”

“Okay,” she blurted, turning to him. “I found a tombstone. One that might be linked to your family, to you.”

“How so?”

Dante tried to be cool. Tried to pretend the voices weren’t grating against his skull. But as the elevator floor lights blinked over to L, an explosion of voices hit Dante so hard that he ripped the railing right off the elevator wall.

Ariana gasped, jumping back as the doors pushed open. “Just leave it. I’ll call our repairman to fix it. I’ll tell him this time I projected the Hulk back by accident.”

Despite Ariana’s attempt to lighten the situation, Dante couldn’t focus on anything but the bitter truth: he was dangerous. A liability. Willing blood to flow back to his knuckles, Dante forced his fingers to separate from the metal and got out of the elevator as fast as he could.

The lobby was packed with elders, most of them sitting near the windows watching an afternoon rainstorm splash fat drops against the glass. Every chair was filled, every wall covered with an elder whose eyes darted to Ariana the moment she stepped into the room.

“Time’s up, Ariana.” The heat of her gaze seared into him. “I can’t afford to stay around you any longer. Please understand.”

“You can’t afford to miss this.” She grasped his arm. “It’ll take two minutes. Then you can do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. Please. For me.”

“Fine.” His chest tightened. “Let’s just get the hell out of here. There are too many vamps stealing my air. I can’t breathe.”

“They’ll file out once the vamps from the city wake up and head downstairs for their evening breakfast. Eve said they’re taking shifts and doing great giving one another space. Elders are out and about during the day when the others would sunburn, and the rest of the vamps come out at night while the elders are sleeping. I have to admit, I didn’t think it’d pan out this smoothly.”

“You’d be amazed the things people will put up with to survive.”

They pushed out the double doors and strode across the elder training ground. Rain came down in sheets, soaking the grass and dirt, but the air was humid and warm, clamming over Dante’s skin. Luscious green grass covered the ground. It was cut so perfectly that Dante wondered if some vamp with OCD cut each blade of grass with a pair of scissors.

“When did you talk to Eve?” he asked, picking up his pace.

That’s right, coward, admire the grass and weather and make small talk so you don’t have to think about what you really want. Take what’s rightfully yours. Do it. Take the sweet stuff from Ariana’s soul.

“I called her while you were in the shower. Wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else I could do to make their transition smoother.”

“And?”

“You sure you want to be talking about this now?” She lowered her head as a blanket of mist swept over them. “I can see how hungry you are. Your eyes always flame bright gold when you’re hungry like this.”

She really had noticed everything, hadn’t she?

“It helps to be distracted,” he said, counting his steps to the forest. “It helps if you talk to me. Your voice . . . it’s soothing.”

Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.

“Ruan found some weak spots on the eastern wall, thanks to my pointing them out. He’s spent the day reinforcing them and needs more time, but it’s stronger than it was before. Slade has managed to conjure up an arsenal of weapons, though I’m not really sure if he had them delivered or rummaged up the old arms we had stock-piled in case of an emergency.”

“I hear Slade has a penchant for finding weapons wherever he can. It’s like coins to a metal detector.”

“Eve has deciphered something in the Grimorium Verum that allows her to bind death shades without mystifying the elders in her presence. At least now if he attacks with death shades, she can wipe them out without rendering our mawares useless.”

“Keep talking.”
Forty. Forty-one.
“Don’t stop.”

Lightning slashed across the dark blue sky, illuminating the entry of the forest just ahead.

“Dylan and Narci are handling bottling. They managed to secure enough blood to sustain everyone for at least the next week, but their contact didn’t make it back to the office. His assistant said Savage must’ve gotten to him.”

Fifty-two. Fifty-three. Almost there.

Thunder tore open the sky, rumbling the very air in Dante’s lungs.

“Savage is getting closer,” Dante said, clipping his words, clenching his stomach. “He’s merciless.”

“The contact’s assistant said every haven in Crimson Bay is completely decimated.”

“Enough of Savage.” Dante growled, wishing Savage were around so he could have a reason to beat someone’s ass to a bloody pulp. “Talk about something else.”

“The Watchers have been quiet, probably waiting to figure out what your next move is.”

“I don’t have a next move.”

“Sure you do. It’s figuring out where you belong. And that’s exactly why I brought you here.”

He didn’t have any time to fire off questions. They entered the forest between two large fir trees that arched over a narrow dirt path.

Dante’s throat dried, cracking like sandpaper with each dry swallow. “Have I told you how much I love surprises?” His sarcasm came off as a growl, harsh and deep.

She looked over her shoulder, smiling. “This is one I think you’re going to like.”

Round and round, bend after bend, they followed the path. Until it opened up to an old cemetery with a large tomb perched in the middle. Rogue beams of afternoon sunshine pierced the storm clouds and the green canopy overhead, creating sections of light in the shadowed dark. Dusty yellow shafts slanted over the stones, illuminating their white cherubic faces.

Though Dante had never really thought about it, he remarked how beautiful and peaceful cemeteries were. Or maybe it was just this one. There was something about it. A comforting flush crept through his insides, soothing the jaggedness that the voices had caused.

“Over here,” Ariana said, standing in front of a rounded alabaster headstone. “You have to see this.”

Voices dialing back, he trudged to her side and read, “ ‘Andre Cornelison. Black Moon’s Primus, An angel’s mate, Dante’s father, my trinity of love and life.’ ” His gaze shot to hers. “What the hell’s this?”

“Do you know the name of your birth father?”

Voices gushed through his head, heavy and full, threatening to block out every other rational thought. Every other thought save for this one.

“No, but . . .” He dropped to his knees, right there in the moss and mud. “Holy shit, an angel’s mate . . .”

It validated everything he’d discovered. Even though the information Pike gave him had added up before, there was something about seeing the truth with his own eyes that really hit home.

He was truly a hybrid. A Watcher. Descended from a mother who fell from grace and a vampire father—a Primus.

“Andre Cornelison was the Primus of Black Moon?” Dante stroked his hand across the cool face of the stone.

“I didn’t get a chance to check, but he’d have to be if he was buried here. This cemetery is for the fallen of Black Moon, the elders who lived and died here. It can’t be coincidence.”

As Dante’s heartbeat droned in and out, buzzing in his ears like a busted radio, time slowed. It wasn’t a coincidence. He felt the truth deep down in his soul. His father had lived here, had found a home in Black Moon. He’d found love with an angel—was she someone from the Watchers’ compound, or another? Dante would probably never know. Together his mother and father had created a cursed hybrid, then had given him away like the bastard he was.

Dante wasn’t sure how long he knelt on the ground, how long the lightning and thunder continued their light and sound routine around him, but he felt Ariana’s hand on his shoulder the instant she put it there.

His gaze snapped to hers. “I’m the one the Watchers have been waiting for,” he said, remembering Pike’s words. “They were waiting for me to come back.”

She brushed her hand over his back. “For you to come
home
.”

The words brushed against his ears like a caress. He’d never had a home. Never stayed anywhere long enough or given anything half a chance to root his feet in the dirt.

From the way Ariana melted into his arms when she gazed up at him, the way his heart beat fast when her body curled against his, Dante knew he’d stay in Black Moon as long as they’d allow him. As long as she wanted him there.

Although Black Moon would provide the roof and walls, his home was with Ariana, surrounded by the love and grace of her heart. He knew that now.

“We’ve been dying to get you away from the others,” a voice boomed from behind him. “Looks like now we’ve got our chance. You’re all alone, without anyone to save you. Prepare to get schooled in elder warfare.”

Dante spun around and spotted Ruan standing in front of a dozen elders, their arms folded in front of them.

“It’s like that, is it?” Dante said, eyeing each one of them. “Attack a vamp one to ten?”

“It’s like that,” Ruan said as he shoved his fist into his chin, popping his neck. “You ready?”

Dante didn’t know what the hell was happening, why Ruan was pissed or what Dante did to the others to deserve an ass kicking by a maware-wielding mob. It didn’t matter. They were here to fight. And damned if he’d deny them the privilege of meeting his fist.

Whatever questions Dante had about loyalty, his parents, the Watchers or Black Moon, there was no time to think about them now.

As Dante let the voices surface, he was blinded by their urgency. Overtaken by their raw strength.