Pool of Crimson (22 page)

“You don’t believe that, though, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t seem to have any problems discussing this with me,” I pointed out.

He looked at me in surprise and smiled with a devilish little upturn of his mouth. “No, I don’t, do I?”

“What does that mean?”

He released his ferocious grip on my chin and cupped my cheek tenderly instead.

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t be able to break the bonds of my blood oath, not with you, not with anyone.” He pushed a strand of hair from my face and met my eyes. “What are you?” he asked me again.

I still didn’t have an answer. “I’ve been told I smell like old magic,” I whispered.

“Ancient, actually,” he whispered, pulling me to him as his lips crashed into mine. His tongue pushed past my teeth and licked at the inside of my mouth. As his lips devoured mine, I understood how so many people walked eagerly to their deaths. To be lost just once in this easy intoxication was sinful and better than a lot of other deaths I could imagine.

I pulled away to catch my breath and opened my eyes. His gaze sparkled with delight and what I thought might have been contentment. I ran my fingers through his hair again. I was afraid that it was the last time I would be able to do it. I was afraid that once dawn came, I’d think better of everything and realize how much danger I’d put myself in. I would be right. Too bad I hadn’t thought of
that
an hour ago.

“I won’t let him touch you,” he said almost defiantly. “I think I understand better why he wants you for himself. I won’t let that happen.” He brushed my hair back and gazed at me like I mattered to him. I couldn’t trust it. He wanted something from me. It seemed that everyone wanted something from me.

“Why?” I asked, skepticism dripping from that one word.

“There’s power in you and if he can control it, I fear what he’ll do with it, with you. He’s gone quite mad in the last half century since Margot died.”

“You talk like I have no choice in the matter,” I said defiantly as I backed away, my anger showing in the rigid posture of my body and the stiffness in my shoulders. I wanted to be able to think, and I couldn’t think with his arms wrapped around me like a velvet vise.

“Dahlia, if he took you for his own and completed the ceremony for you to become a bonded servant, you wouldn’t have any say left,” he said calmly, but I heard the underlying fear. He didn’t want that to happen. Hell, I didn’t want that to happen. We could agree on that. An overwhelming sense of dread overtook me, and I wasn’t sure it was mine. The dread was based on knowledge I didn’t have. I met his eyes and realized that he could feel my confusion just as easily as I could feel his dread.

“What’s happening?” I asked, fear finally making my voice quake as I spoke.

“I think our magic’s mated. We’re linked,” he said with defeat in his voice as he reached for his pants. “I wish I could ask you to stay clear of this mess, but you’re linked to me now and,” he said as he slipped his pants back on and turned his resignation filled eyes to me, “I think you may be the only hope I have.”

I felt how torn he was and my gut wrenched with his emotion. I needed to get away from him and see if this awful sensation would stop. I didn’t like feeling my own emotions, let alone someone else’s. I hit the button for the partition between us and the driver.

“Stop the car,” I said forcefully. The car came to a sudden stop, and I held on to keep myself from tumbling onto the floor. I got up and reached for the door. Patrick grabbed my wrist, not hard, just enough for me to hesitate. I looked back at him with what I hoped passed for conviction. He sighed and, with a defeated shake of his head, released my hand. I stepped out into the darkness. The driver had stopped a few blocks from my house. Good job.

I looked down the street in both directions. It was quiet and deserted in the late hour. The streets were strangely eerie now that I knew someone was waiting in the dark to snatch me up. I wouldn’t let Patrick see my concern. I wouldn’t let him feel it, either. “Don’t worry about me,” I said with a smile. “I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said as he sat back against the seat of the limo.

I closed the door, then tapped the roof twice. The limo pulled away without hesitation.

I watched it go. I didn’t like the idea of being bonded or linked or whatever Patrick wanted to call it. I didn’t like that my mind had already gone to images of Patrick over me and the feeling of his body next to mine. I didn’t like how weak I’d turned out to be.

I was cold as I walked the five blocks to my house. A shiver ran from my shoulders down to my toes as the wind caressed the bare skin on my legs. It was the first time in a long time that I wanted someone there when I got home. I’d managed on my own for more than a decade. I could survive this, too. I would survive this.

Chapter 16

I stood in a circle of light in my bare feet and a frilly white cotton nightgown that hit me just below the knees. I glanced down at myself and tugged at the gown with little yellow flowers printed all over it. It was hideous and definitely wasn’t mine. I couldn’t see beyond the soft circle of light that stretched around me on all sides as if it would swallow me whole.

My heart pounded against my ribcage. The sound of it seemed to echo in the void beyond the faint light surrounding me. All I could think was that I needed to breathe, not panic. I took in a deep, ragged breath. My lungs filled with frigid cold air, chilling me from the inside out. My hands trembled at my sides. I was scared, and I couldn’t pinpoint why. All of the hair on my body stood on end as something moved out in the endless darkness.

I wasn’t alone.

I was safe inside the circle. As long as I stayed inside the circle, I was safe. A noise off in the darkness caught my attention. It echoed in the void. The sound was wet, slurping, with a steady hard crack like something broke or snapped. My heart beat sped and my breath heaved in my chest as I trembled. A soft whimper filled the silence in between the slurps. I knew the whimper of pain when I heard it. I’ve made that same noise often enough as the doctors reset my bones, stitched up the gashes on my skin, or I breathed, laughed, or cried with broken ribs. I closed my eyes to shut out the sounds of pain in the darkness. The man’s whimpers changed. He called out softly for help under the sound of sloppy slurps.

My breath hitched in my throat in surprise at the guttural sound of his voice in the dark. Somewhere out in the darkness, someone was getting eaten alive.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, as fear froze me to my spot.

A soft growl from not too far away filled my small circle of safety as something wet, warm, and thick seeped in between my toes.

I didn’t want to look down.

It oozed around my foot like warm molasses. I unscrunched my eyes and looked down at the pristine white tile floor, defaced by the growing pool of crimson spreading outward around me. I stopped myself from stepping away. The dark loomed behind me. I lifted my foot up and felt the sickening pull of warm liquid, creating the tiniest bit of suction between my foot and the floor. Something hit the pool of blood at my feet and splashed the warm goo against my bare legs and the white cotton nightgown.

An ARM! A FUCKING dismembered arm lay lifeless at my feet. I took in a deep breath to scream and it caught in my throat.

The sharp snap of someone’s neck breaking filled my ears, followed by the sickening sloppy sound of flesh tearing. A head rolled into the light at my feet.

The light shimmered off jet-black hair as the full lips that I remembered kissed the pool of crimson blood on the floor. His once intense dark eyes stared back at me as faded pools of lifeless oblivion. His decapitated head sat at my feet like a gift.

Patrick’s face, frozen in a grimace of pain. His head was a foot or so away from me, half in the light and half out. My pulse beat a quick steady rhythm against my skull, filling my ears with the rush of my blood.

A soft chuckle from just beyond the circle of light startled me. My brain froze. For a moment, I thought my heart had stopped beating as well.

One furry hoof stepped into the light, followed by dark skinned legs the color of milk chocolate, thick, like tree trunks with dark, onyx-colored hair leading a path up its naked body.

The creature stepped into the light.

Standing tall, several feet taller than me, with tusks sticking up from his bottom row of teeth, almost touching his cheekbones, he smiled, revealing a garish expanse of teeth. His eyes were the color of a vibrant, well tended fire, red and burning with hunger. In the center of his forehead was a familiar tattoo that seemed to move in the light. The large red spider spread its legs across the surface of his skin. The black trident, etched in the spider’s back blazed in the light. Blood dripped from his chin and covered his bare chest. His black hair was thick and fell down his back in stringy waves. The strands of his hair were covered from scalp to end with gold beads that matched the large gold studs in his ears from lobe to the end of his cartilage.

“I’ll kill all of you and suck the flesh from your bones,” he growled.

Dread spread through me as the realization of the danger of his words sank into my skin. He could consume the world and never be full.

I turned horrified eyes up to his maliciously smiling face and froze when he lunged for me.

My eyes darted open and stung from my sweat as it seeped beneath my eyelids. I couldn’t catch my breath. My tears mixed with the beads of cold sweat covering my skin, making me shiver.

I’m alive.

It wasn’t real.

I leaned over the edge of my bed and threw up, still clutching the small amulet in my tight grasp. The burn of bile hitting my sinuses made my eyes water. A tear slid down my cheek. I opened my eyes to see how much damage I’d done. The hardwood floor and rug were covered in stomach acid and bile.

Once I’d gotten out of bed and cleaned up the mess, I didn’t want to go back to bed. Hell, I didn’t want to go back to sleep. Ever. My dreams had been hell lately, leaving me restless and filled with fear.

I glared down at my empty bed like it wasn’t safe anymore. It wasn’t the bed that wasn’t safe, it was me. I felt uneasy and trapped. It wasn’t my unease that was making my stomach churn. Patrick’s distress overwhelmed my own feelings of outright fear and revulsion. I needed to push everything, his feelings and my own, away and disappear into something that didn’t carry the ugly stain of pain and death.

I went downstairs and slid
Disney’s Peter Pan
in the DVD player and wrapped up in a purple fleece blanket covered in
Good Luck Bear, Care Bears
on the couch. As the credits rolled and the music filled my silent house, I had the feeling that I was safe again. I hummed along, just to be sure.

Chapter 17

The ping of the elevator rang off the mirrored walls as the elevator jerked to a stop on the bottom floor. I looked up as the stainless steel doors parted. My own reflection disappeared as the doors opened to the Police headquarters lobby.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d come all the way, downtown during rush hour traffic and after a long day at work, all for Officer Hamlin. He wanted to ask some ‘follow up questions’.

“Are you positive about the make and model of that car?” he’d asked, like I was some scared teenager.

“Uh, yeah,” I said with more attitude than I should have used with a cop but he had already wasted a whole lot of my time.

“Did Jade, I mean Ms. Markowitz, also see the vehicle in question.”

“Uh, yeah,” I repeated in the same snarky tone. “I think it says that in the original police report, as well as in her statement.”

He looked down at the police report in front of him and nodded absently. “So it does,” he said, flipping between the several pages attached at the top of the file folder. “Do you have any reason to believe that someone would be looking to harm you?” His tone was skeptical as his shoulders squared and his eyes narrowed on me. That question was a little trickier to answer. I made it a habit not to lie, especially to cops. It was hard to remember what I’d said and keep my story straight. Cops tend to take lying personally.

“Why would you assume that they were out to get me? There were two people in that car,” I asked defensively, my voice filled with hostility.

“Because I know her, and no one would ever want to hurt her,” he erupted at me. “You,” he said as he narrowed his gaze at me. “You, I don’t know. She’s never mentioned you. Plus, you’re clean, too clean. Squeaky. Not even a damned parking ticket,” he snapped at me.

Officer Derek Hamlin lowered his head and breathed out his frustration in a heavy sigh.

I managed to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want him to look at me and notice me smiling.

“Sooooo,” I cooed to break the several moments of silence that had descended like a brick wall between us.

“I apologize for my inappropriate behavior,” he said as he raised his eyes to meet mine. My gaze drifted down to his large hands, clasped in tight fists next to the open police report on his desk. He could crack walnuts in that grip.

“You’re worried. I get it,” I said as I sat back in the chair and got comfortable.

“She won’t return my calls. She won’t tell me if she’s all right or if she needs help.”

“Well,” I said, suddenly very uncomfortable, “I understand why she would be a bit wary of you.”

He stared up at me, distrust evident in the cock of his head and his narrowed gaze.

“Dude!” I said, exasperation thick in my voice. “You licked her ass in public.”

His eyes grew wide and he recoiled back into his chair as if I’d struck him. “She told you that?”

“Well, last time I checked, I wasn’t psychic, sooooo, I’m gonna say yes,” I snapped. I let out a heavy breath as I tried to rein my smart-ass tone back in. Sarcasm wasn’t going to help this time. “Look,” I said, trying to make him relax. I didn’t need him rooting around too deeply in my background or looking for something to hold against me. “She told me that before you and I met. She probably thought it would never come up again.”