Pool of Crimson (6 page)

SHIT!
I was in a bedroom. This had just gone from merely deadly to fucked up and deadly. I didn’t care if he ripped my throat out then and there but he wasn’t going to shove his dick anywhere it didn’t belong.

I scrambled to the far side of the bed as my mind focused solely on the danger at hand. I was panicked and I knew it. All I could see in my mind were his hands on me and his body holding me down, trapping me. I had to get away.

He grabbed my ankle in a grip that could break the bone with a hair more pressure, yanking me back to his side of the bed with a quick jerk. The shock of his strength reverberated in my knee and hip joints as my bones pulled from their sockets just enough to ache. I grabbed for the opposite edge of the bed and tried to pull myself away from him.

I couldn’t get away.

His other hand slid up the back of my leg and pushed my skirt up over my ass. I kicked at him and pulled at the edge of the bed with all the strength I had in me. I didn’t care if I broke my leg. This
wasn’t
going to happen.

I wouldn’t scream. No matter what he did, I wouldn’t scream. He wanted to hear my fear and my pain. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I bit down on my lower lip, hard enough to draw blood as he tore at my stockings.

My heart pounded in my chest and my breath was ragged against my throat as he yanked me back to him one more time. My wrists stretched as my fingers slipped from the edge of the mattress. I slid back to him, burning my exposed skin against the harsh fabric of the cheap bedspread. My nose filled with the scent of dirty musk and I tried not to gag as his fingers slipped under my panties and tugged. The fabric ripped as he tore the elastic against my pelvis.

FUCK!

I turned slightly to my side and angled one good kick to his chest. The impact of the blow ricocheted through my leg, like kicking a tree, but he stumbled back a step. Just one step, but it was enough. I was free.

He dangled my torn panties on his index finger with a smile curving his thin lips with violence. He ran my torn lace panties across his nose, taking a deep breath. “I’ll make you scream yet, honey,” he said as his eyes narrowed on me.

I took a deep breath and cleared my mind.

This fucker’s gonna kill me. He’s gonna tear me up before he does it, too. Think, damn you, THINK!

I crab walked to the far side of the mattress, skimming my now bare ass across the scratchy bedspread. He tossed my panties over his shoulder and knelt on the bed. He reached out and grabbed my left ankle, then yanked. I raised my right leg to shove my foot in his throat. The knife shifted slightly in my boot.

The knife, you dumbass! Oh, thank you, Jesus!

I reached down my leg and slid my hand into my boot, wrapping my fingers around the firm, warm handle. My salvation.

I looked down the length of my body to the vampire still holding my ankle. He fumbled with the button and zipper of his pants with one hand.

This would have to be quick.

I took a deep breath and pulled the knife free in a swift and clean motion. I lifted my body with my core and shoved the knife through his throat in a single hard jab. The blade pushed through muscle and tissue before it reached its hilt and broke through the other side of his neck. His muscles tightened around the blade, gripping the silver. His warm blood pulsated and poured down his neck and over my fingers.

His wide eyes met mine as he reached up to grab my wrist. I yanked the knife from his throat and with all my fear and anger behind me kicked him in the solar plexus. No one made me a victim, never again. He staggered backward a few steps, blocking my exit.

I got to my feet and yanked my skirt down with my free hand as quickly as I could. Blood was everywhere, the carpet, the bed, and the walls as bled out like a sieve. The knife’s silver coating would keep him from healing himself as quickly as he normally could have. He dropped to his knees as blood left his body and pooled on the floor.

“I’d love to hear
you
scream before I kill you, but I’m afraid I cut your vocal cords. So sorry,” I said, vengeance thick in my voice giving the sarcasm bite. I brought my knife back over my shoulder and swung the weapon with all my might. It slid through his throat and spinal cord like cutting warm butter. His body dropped to my left a few seconds after his head hit the ground and rolled under the bed on my right. I breathed deeply for the first time in what seemed like forever and closed my eyes.

He didn’t touch me.
He didn’t touch me
.
He didn’t fucking touch me.

I opened my eyes, calmer than before and let instinct take over.

“I have to get out of here,” I said softly to myself as I turned and cleaned the knife on the bedspread before slipping it back in my boot.
“
Can’t just walk out the front door
.
”

I looked around the room frantically for something, anything that could get me out. I walked to the window and pulled back the drapes. A two-story drop straight down. I couldn’t make it, not with my legs intact.

I flung the drapes back, stormed across the room, and placed my ear to the door. If they’d heard us, or if they smelled the blood, the vampires would be on me in mere moments. I was a sitting duck ... trapped. I glanced up at the ceiling to pray to anyone who would listen for help. I wasn’t particular anymore. I strained my ears to listen.

Nothing.

“Is that?” I whispered as my eyes locked on a small metal obstruction in the smoothness of the ceiling.
A sprinkler system.
“I guess vampires don’t want to burn up in a fire in the middle of the day. Smart vampires.”

I didn’t have a lighter.

I ran to the dead vampire on the floor, blood still pouring out of his neck like I’d turned on a faucet. I flipped him over and searched his pockets.

A wad of cash. Not helpful.

A switchblade.
Really? Do you really need a switchblade with the fangs, buddy?

A pack of
American Spirit
cigarettes.
Closer. Ew, but closer.

A piece of paper with someone named Brandy’s phone number on it.
Asshole.

A Zippo.
Eureka!

I ran to the other side of the room and grabbed the small chair seated at the vanity and dragged it across the floor. The ceilings in this place were almost twelve feet high. I stepped up onto the seat of the chair and hoped it didn’t collapse under me. The thing was delicate and unstable as I tried to balance my weight on the edges of the chair. It was probably more than 70 or 80 years old and wasn’t built for Amazon women like me to stand on. If I broke it, then where would I be? Screwed, that’s where.

I finally managed to get my balance in my heels on the edges of that damned chair and hold the lighter up to the sprinkler. It took about three minutes for the first spray of water to hit my head before the system went off at full blast, covering me in cold water.

The first shouts of women getting wet echoed from down stairs. I jumped from the chair, not caring anymore if it broke. I flung open the door and took off down the hall at a dead sprint. I wanted the hell out of that house. The water washed over me. It was cold and soaked me to the bone. It also washed the blood from me in dirty red streaks as I ran. I grabbed hold of the banister as I turned the corner and headed down the stairs.

People ran for the front door, hands covering their heads as shrill shrieks of vanity filled the foyer. I was going to make it. I was going to get out of this house with everyone else and make it one more night.

The door to the office opened as I hit the bottom landing. The sprinklers were not going off in that room and two familiar vampires stood in the doorway. Patrick and the Marlboro Man watched. I would have laughed at the confusion on their faces as the people fled and their first floor filled with water, but I had to get out of there.

I slowed. I could feel someone’s eyes on me, and it made my skin crawl. Smarmy stood next to Patrick, a grim expression furrowing his brow. Patrick stared at me intently, recognition in his dark eyes and a smirk on his kissable, full lips.

So much for going unnoticed.

I descended the last few stairs alone, confident and with my head held high, even though I knew I looked like I had just wrestled a bear and the bear had almost won. I met Patrick’s gaze and gave a slight nod. I couldn’t help the quick grin gracing my lips. His nostrils flared and a small, knowing smile of malicious amusement turned up the corners of his mouth. He watched me from under dark lashes, making my shoulders tense and my heart race at the carnal look in his eyes.

I followed out several screeching women with a cocky tilt of my head in Patrick’s direction.

Olly olly oxen free!
I sang in my head as I high-tailed my ass down the street. I jumped into Amblan’s truck, revved the engine, then pulled out onto the road in a screech of tires and the desperation of survival.

I flipped the Zippo in my hand as I hit 40 miles per hour down a residential street. I released the breath I’d been holding since that vampire’s fingers had clenched around my throat. A warm, salty tear slid down my cheek and caressed my nose before I was able to brush it harshly away.

I could cry later.

I had to get home and take a shower.

Chapter 4

Nothing. I turned the key in the ignition again. The engine sputtered and growled but didn’t turn over.

“From what you heard ... the artiman something ... I could start researching,” Jade said, but I was only half listening.

“Ahriman,” I corrected absently as I turned the key again and listened to the engine sputter. Still nothing.
What the hell?
I sat back in the driver’s seat, annoyed. “Wait! What did you say?” I asked as my mind snapped back into focus.

“The Ahriman thingy. I can look into it. I could see if the stone means anything,” Jade said with a bright smile as she stood beside me, arm draped over my open car door. It was full dark, and I wanted to get her in her car and on her way home. I’d been on edge since my encounter a few nights back, looking over my shoulder, jumping at my own shadow. I’d even been a little apprehensive about meeting Jade for dinner when she called. I wasn’t sure how she’d gotten my number but as dinner progressed, I was glad she had.

Jade was funny. She was easy to talk to and practiced the fine art of sarcasm with as much finesse as I did. I liked her, and I hadn’t made a new friend in what seemed like a lifetime. Standing in the dark where I knew we could both be in danger made me reconsider the whole evening.

I tried the key again and felt the rumble of the engine try to turn over. I turned it in the ignition again. Nothing. “Yeah, sure,” I said. I had to get the engine to run. She wasn’t going to leave until I did.

“What’s wrong with it?” Jade asked as she crouched beside me.

“I don’t know. The engine won’t turn over,” I said, anger filling my voice. I turned the key in the ignition one more time in protest, then slammed my palms against the steering wheel. “It was fine on the way up here,” I said through clenched teeth.

“That’s all right. Call AAA,” she said calmly.

“Yeah,” I said hesitantly. “I guess you’re right.” The sooner I got it running, the sooner she would be home and safe.

After an hour of sitting in my car and waiting for AAA, I’d forgotten all about what could be lurking outside. I was laughing too hard.

“So we go on this date and everything started out so well,” Jade said with a sigh. “We had dinner at Morgan’s down in German Village and it was great. We’d been friends for a really long time. We had fun, he was easy to talk to, and the drinks kept coming,” she said with a small, sad smile. “He suggested that we go dancing, which I love to do, so we went to Alabaster. The guy at the door charged us a $40 cover which freaked him out to the point he was going to turn around and leave after standing in line for half an hour. So I paid for it.” She rolled her eyes. “My dad has money and if I want something, I just ask. It’s not a big deal,” she said with a hint of explanation to her voice.

I already knew she wasn’t hurting for money by the new BMW she drove. “I guess my paying didn’t make him feel any better. He went all sensitive about the money thing and started to drink once we got inside. A lot.”

I could tell from her tension-filled shoulders and the stone line of her jaw that although her tone was jovial and upbeat, this one had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

She sighed heavily before she continued. “At some point, he decided that it was time to make out. Not just with me but with whoever would let him.” She glared at me with a look that was filled with anger and embarrassment, but most of all hurt. “I needed a break so I went in search of the restroom. I was considering just calling a cab and leaving when I found a restroom that was basically empty.” Her expression was so animated I bit down on my lips to keep from laughing. “Amazing, I know. An empty restroom in a huge dance club,” she blurted out in frustration. “There were only a few stalls in there and one was disgusting so I moved on to the next one. Well, there was no toilet paper in that one so I reached into the previous stall to get some toilet paper. I hadn’t noticed anyone come in behind me but evidently, someone had.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “As I leaned over, I felt a hand push my skirt up and before I could react, he licked my ass,” she said, mortification written all over her face as emotion shook her voice.

I stared at her with my mouth open. “What did you do?” I asked, choking on my own laughter.

She glared at me in a way that made me feel like we’d been friends for years. It was nice. I didn’t have many friends, exactly one actually.

“In shock at what he’d done, I stared at my so-called friend for a long minute, and then shoved his head in the toilet.”

She was furious. I could almost see the fire coming from her nostrils. I burst out laughing, filling the car with the sound.

“I’m sorry,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. A knock at my window, three quick thumps of a knuckle on glass almost had me jumping out of my skin. We both broke into nervous laughter as the bulky guy with a AAA jacket dropped down to look in the window.