Love Me to Death (Underveil) (11 page)

Chapter Ten

W
hen the pressure of teleporting faded and the ground finally solidified under her feet, Elena opened her eyes…and screamed.

Nikolai clamped a hand over her mouth. “Silence or we’re dead.”

Crap.
They were dead anyway. The stone wall they stood on was no more than two feet across, which would seem plenty wide except for the fact they balanced at least five stories up and it was snowing like crazy.

Her eyes locked on what appeared to be a frozen moat below with miles of forest stretching out beyond.
Holy crap.
They’d landed in a scene from
Lord of the Rings
or something.

“Don’t look down.”

Right. Too late.

He reached down and took the suitcase from her hand.

Damn, she was sick of this—sick of being terrified, sick of being ignorant and helpless, sick of depending on him for everything. But right now, she had no choice because he’d landed them like a couple of birds perched on the freaking wall of a castle or something a billion feet above the ground in the middle of a snowstorm.

Then it occurred to her that he could only teleport to places he’d been before. Why had he ever been
here?

“Hold on to me,” he whispered.

She grabbed his belt loops on the back of his jeans. He had no coat on over his T-shirt. He had to be freezing, since her teeth were chattering and she wore a parka. Served him right.

She shuffled along behind him, keeping the same foot forward until they reached a huge window in the building at the end of the wall. He pulled his dagger out of his boot and jimmied the lock until the window swung open inward. He paused, holding his breath as if listening, then stepped over the sill and into the room, turning to help Elena. Once inside, he silently closed the window behind them.

A blow came from behind Elena’s knees, sending her to the floor right before a heavy crack filled the blackness.

“Aleksi,” Nikolai whispered.

“Niki?”

Then the sound of a match striking. The tiny orange flame grew as it took hold on a candlewick. The unmistakably perfect form of Aleksandra, dressed in something so sheer she might as well have worn nothing at all, waivered in the flickering light. “Why are you here?”

Nikolai rubbed the back of his head. “To have my skull cracked, obviously.”

She ran to a basin on a small table and retrieved a wet a towel before returning to him. “Here, let me clean it off.”

Elena remained on her knees but covered her nose and mouth. The smell of his blood was unlike anything else. It was a magnet pulling every molecule in her toward him. She rolled in a ball on her side to prevent her body from crawling to him on its own. She gulped a breath of air through her mouth to keep from smelling it, but she could
taste
it.

“You hurt her,” Nikolai said as Aleksandra wiped the blood from the back of his head.

“No.” She rinsed the rag in the basin and put it back on his head. “She can’t possibly be that fragile. If she is, we’re all dead.”

Nikolai grabbed her wrist. “Meaning what?”

“We can’t talk here. Go to the forest—to the big tree where we played as children.” She grabbed a huge brown fur from her bed and placed it in his arms. “Go now, Niki, before they come.” She pulled Elena to her feet and shoved the suitcase at her. “I’ll follow soon.”

He pulled her back out through the window and leaned against the building. She kept her eyes on his face, rather than look down this time. The sun was rising, softening the harsh lines of his face. He drew her near, hands on neck. “We can’t teleport in or out of the fortress. It’s magically protected to prevent it.”

So close she could taste him, Elena weaved on her feet as Nikolai chanted. Then, with a slam, she knew she had been teleported again. Eyes closed, she breathed deep through her nose, taking in the rich, coppery perfume of Nikolai’s blood, no concern as to where they were. Hell, they could be up on another wall for all she cared. It was as if his blood had rendered nothing else relevant. Her whole body hummed with the scent of him as she dropped the suitcase and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him as close as possible.

A deep, masculine rumbling sound rolled through his chest, reverberating through her body as he reciprocated and ran his hands up her back, entwining his fingers in her hair. “Elena,” he whispered.

Yes.
This was what she wanted. She lowered her hands and rubbed over the hard ridge in the front of his jeans, and he groaned again. She needed him with her, against her, in her. She needed to…bite him?

No!

She shoved as hard as she could against his chest, sending him sprawling in the snow.

No.

“What game is this?” he asked, rising to his feet.

Still shaking off the blood-induced trance, she took a step back. There was only an eerie hint of light slanting low through the trees, accenting the angular planes of his face. He’d never looked more beautiful to her—wild and angry, surrounded by the surreal beauty of the untouched forest.

What was happening to her? This was all wrong. She took several more steps back. This wasn’t like her at all. She was attracted to order and convenience. Security and predictability. Not some wild, primitive immortal death angel in the middle of a forest who knows where. A death angel who hated her.

It had to be his blood making her crazy. And every minute she was with him, she found herself more vulnerable.
It’s only his blood,
she assured herself. She could beat this.

N
ikolai stood and brushed the snow off, then grabbed the bearskin and shook it. It was only his blood she craved, and for some reason that bugged the shit out of him. Why should he care at all? She was a vampire, and even though their souls met on the cord, he knew it would never work. Perhaps it was simply the rejection that burned. He’d never been denied by a female before, and it stung. Yes, that was it. It was only his pride. She meant nothing.

“We need to get moving,” he said, wrapping the bearskin over his shoulders, then grabbing the suitcase and tucking it under his arm. Fortunately, they were very close to the meeting place. “Come.”

He struck out for the destination but the cord jerked him to a stop.

“Come!” he repeated.

“I’m not a dog you can command.”

He could see the defiance in her eyes, and it aroused him. So strong. But as much as he admired her will, they didn’t have time for this right now. They could play who’s on top later.

“Elena. We must—”

The sound of motors cut him short.
Shit.
They’d been discovered, and teleporting again this soon was iffy, especially since there were two of them. Besides, he needed to take care of this because he couldn’t just let Aleksi teleport right into a trap or ambush. Best to face whatever was bearing down on them and hope it wasn’t Slayer Elite Forces.

“Listen to me well. You must not move no matter what you hear, do you understand?” She was mortal and could get hurt so easily.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

“If they see you, they’ll kill you. Get on your belly in the snow, now. Lay perfectly still no matter what.”

She nodded and dropped to her hands and knees. At least she was compliant when it was essential. Once she was flat, he spread the skin over her. He would need to stay in one place to be effective. If he were within their striking range, they’d be within his as well. He pulled the cord to give himself the most length possible. At least it wasn’t on his sword arm. He positioned himself over the skin, one foot on either side of her. No blade would find her. Not while he was alive.

The first of the snowmobiles crested the berm, and he almost shouted out with relief. The next two were no different. They were manned by wood elves, the easiest of the Underveil creatures to defeat. Why would they be defending the Slayer fortress?

Though equipped with rifles—probably to kill or injure Elena—the elves were also armed with swords. Bullets would do nothing to him, but a good slice with a blade would slow him down, though not kill him, even if forged by the light elves. He would have to be burned to ash or decapitated by a Slayer sword to be defeated, and the chance of a wood elf doing that was zilch. Still, they could kill Elena easily, which was his primary concern as the first snowmobile rocketed toward him.

Sword in front, ready, he waited…and smiled. This is what he was best at—what he was made for: combat.

Before the elf could even get his sword around in a full swing, his head hit the snow in a black, sticky mess. The snowmobile continued down the hill to a ravine, headless body dumped before it rolled.

“Next?” Nikolai shouted.

Ah, two at once. Bring it.
Feet still on either side of Elena’s body, he brought the sword over his head and swung in a full arc, slicing the torso of one, and causing the other to swerve wildly, losing control of his vehicle, which rolled several times before smashing into a tree.

The one with the slice through his middle came to a stop and dismounted the vehicle. He yanked the rifle from his snowmobile, grin visible in the rising sunlight. Shit. He’d figured out Elena was under the fur.

A quick glance revealed the third guy who had wrecked was limping toward his vehicle, probably to get his rifle as well.

Shit, shit, shit.
If only he weren’t tied to her. Heart pounding, he focused on his opposition. They’d try to immobilize him with bullets most likely.

The wood elf engaged the magazine with a sharp click, and Nikolai snatched the dagger from his boot. As the gun tip rose, aiming right at the vulnerable human between his feet, Nikolai drew the dagger back and allowed all his well-trained muscles do the work. Landing hard, he held his breath as the shower of bullets began.

Forever, the sharp staccato of gunfire rang in his ears, as every nerve ending fired with pain. The woman under him remained motionless. If she died, so would he. Hopefully, his body would absorb it all, and none of the bullets would pass though him into her.

A shrill, familiar scream echoed through the forest, and then the gunshots stopped.

“The bastard!” Aleksi shouted from somewhere nearby. “Wood elves?”

He groaned and lifted his head to find her storming toward him, gold eyes flashing.

“Honestly,” she continued, helping him roll off Elena. “Is there no one with whom Fydor will not ally?”

Elena flinched as Aleksi ripped the fur off her. Relief flowed through him like warm water. She had survived. He wanted to sit up and check her for wounds, but was unable to move.

“Are you shot?” Aleksandra asked her.

“I—I don’t think so.”

“Well, then get up.”

She rolled to her side and tried unsuccessfully to push to her feet.

Aleksi, sword covered with black tree elf blood, crouched over where Nikolai lay sprawled on his back in the blood-soaked snow. She placed her hands on either side of his face. “Hang in there. I’ll get the bullets out as soon as your human baggage makes herself useful.”

Elena tried to stand again, but fell back on her back. “I can’t. My legs are frozen or asleep or something.”

“Then crawl. I need your help.”

She crawled the several feet through the bloody snow to his side, covering her nose and mouth with her hands. Obviously, the smell of his blood was affecting her.

“Hold out your hands,” Aleksandra ordered. “I can’t leave evidence that he has been healed. You must take the bullets with you.”

Elena held out her bare hands and placed them together. One, by one, for what seemed like forever, Aleksi moved her hands over his body, removing bullets with a pain that rivaled being shot in the first place. Fuck, it hurt. And still, they kept coming
. Clink, clink, clink.

“You’d better be worth it, little human,” Aleksi said, finally sitting up. “There. I got them all. Niki, are you still with us?”

“Yes.” His voice was strained, but at least he could still talk.

“You need to teleport now. Right now. Can you do that? I know you’re hurt. Has a sufficient amount of time passed?”

He nodded, which was the best he could do with his body ripped full of holes.

“More will come if we remain here, and they might not be simple wood elves. Go to the cabin. It’s very close, so you won’t have to use a lot of energy to get there, and no one knows of it. Teleport there and heal. I’ll come to you when I can.”

Again, he nodded.

“Where is your dagger? The one I gave you?”

His eyes searched the area and stopped on the body of a wood elf with a jeweled knife hilt protruding from the gray skin of its throat.

“It’s how they’ve been finding you. I overheard Fydor bragging about it to a guard. He altered it and put a device in the handle so they could track you.” She walked to the body of the creature, ripped out the dagger, and wiped the black sticky blood off it onto its jacket. “And it’s how they’ll find me.” She stood on the bearskin that had covered Elena, raised the blade, and plunged it into her own belly. “Shame on you for stabbing me like this.” Her face contorted in pain. “I love you. See you soon.”

Mouth open in a silent scream, Elena, still holding the bullets, trembled as Aleksi crumpled over in the snow.