The Dark Vampire: Last True Vampire 3 (39 page)

“True,” she said. “But anyone can change.”

Jenner hoped so. If he was going to win Bria’s trust he’d have to convince her that he could quit with the controlling psycho mate routine. He’d have to let go of his own crippling fear and have a little fucking faith.

Chelle’s chin tilted down and to the left, as though she’d picked up on some faint sound. “Time for round two,” she said with a devilish grin that was identical to Ronan’s. “Lucas took your mate to The Standard, Downtown L.A. But that’s all I know.”

Chelle turned to head back down the hallway and Jen
ner paused. “Go easy on him, Chelle. The members of his coven are—”

“Adorably innocent?” Chelle finished for him. The points of her fangs were fully visible in her wide smile. “Don’t worry; I know how to take care of him.”

That’s what Jenner was afraid of.

The
joy of Bria’s freedom soured with Jenner’s absence. So far, her trek through downtown L.A. hadn’t offered the sort of entertainment or thrill that she thought it would. From the hotel’s roof she’d leapt to the next building and the next. She’d flipped, dove, tumbled, and launched herself from obstacle to obstacle with such grace and ease that her flow state had no equal. She could outparkour the most skilled traceur and still she found no joy in it. Even when she’d followed her GPS to the geocache not far from the Standard and signed the logbook inside, she felt hollow. Unfufilled. Nothing held her interest as Jenner had only last night, his powerful body moving over her as he thrust deep inside of her. This separation wasn’t what she wanted. Not really. But she couldn’t be the sort of female who didn’t stand by her convictions. She’d warned Jenner. Asked him to treat her as though she was his tethered mate and not a prisoner in the home he’d declared as
theirs
.

Loneliness ate away at her and it had only been twenty-four hours since she’d left the apartment. She missed
him so much it hurt. His gruff voice and sharp expression. The deep groove that cut into his brow, and his large, imposing form. The way he could be both gentle and fierce. His thinly veiled restraint. Half of her soul seemed to be missing. In fact, since the moment Lucas had dropped her off at the hotel she could no longer sense Jenner past their tether, and she’d taken enough blood from him that it shouldn’t have been a problem to find him if she’d wanted. The absence of any sense of him frightened her more than any possible threat against her could.

After her uneventful geocaching adventure, Bria decided to roam downtown L.A. simply because she could. She carried two daggers and a set of throwing knives for protection and kept them sheathed beneath her light jacket and at her back. Bria might have been free to do as she pleased, but she wasn’t stupid. The sensation that someone—or something—watched her hadn’t subsided since last night. Invisible insects traveled the length of her spine and her fangs tingled in her gums. Instinct clawed at the back of her mind, a part of her vampiric nature that Jenner had helped her to hone. Rather than subside, that need to be vigilant, to stay on her toes, had only increased. Bria wanted to make a point to Jenner, but she didn’t want to die, either. The necromancer had been close to Jenner’s apartment last night, and for all Bria knew she could still be close.

Bria continued to walk down Flower Street, careful to keep her pace slow and to stay as close to the edge of the brightly lit sidewalk as possible. Her unease grew and with it shame over what she’d done. Gods, she’d been every bit as stubborn as Jenner. Where he’d insisted she stay cooped up so he could guarantee her protection, she’d insisted that she be free to traverse the city without a single thought to her own security. The threat against her was very real.
Bria, how could you be so foolish?

Her decision might have been foolish, but she wasn’t afraid. In fact, she welcomed an attack. If anything, to end the anticipation. She hadn’t gone out unarmed. If the necromancer wanted her she should have shown herself and fought Bria fair and square. Bria had to prove to herself, to Jenner, that she could take care of herself. Protect herself if she had to. Otherwise, she’d never be anything other than a yoke around his neck. Their tether had to be equal in all things; Bria refused to be nothing more than a responsibility to him.

A tingle of sensation danced along Bria’s skin and she shuddered. A spark of magic. She stole a glance around her in search of the magic user. It could have been her own stupid paranoia that got the better of her. Witches and fae were both magic users and were for the most part benevolent. Naya was certainly an example of a witch who distanced herself from black magic.
Shake it off. Don’t let your unease distract you
. Yet instead of heading toward the hotel, a dark energy urged her away and Bria changed her track and crossed to the other side of West Sixth. She abandoned well-lit and crowded main streets for darker, vacant alleys and side streets as some foreign force goaded her from her intended path. Her heart began to pound with her mounting anxiety and her fangs no longer tingled but throbbed. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end and a low growl built unbidden in her chest.

Without even realizing it she’d been herded. Directed away from the safety of the lights and crowds and forced onto a narrow road that dead-ended at a tall concrete wall. She’d been corralled as easily as a mindless sheep. It appeared as though the attack she welcomed would happen sooner than she’d thought.

Trapped.

A pair of eyes peeked out from behind a Dumpster and studied her. Low to the ground, they glistened with an al
most metallic sheen. A dog? Coyote? Mutant tomcat? No. Bria’s stomach rippled with fear. It rose hot and thick in her throat. Whatever watched her now was much, much worse than a hungry wild animal.

Bria had grown up believing that wendigoes were the equivalent of supernatural boogeymen. Something to scare petulant dhampir children into minding their parents. This one was every bit as intimidating and terrifying as the stories depicted. The only difference between the myth and the wendigo that watched her now was that this particular one had at one time been her father.

She’d lived her entire life up until this point believing that her father had died during the Sortiari attacks. She hadn’t even been born when he’d fallen in battle. Her heart clenched at the thought that her own father had become a creature of nightmares. Before he’d ever had a chance to cradle her in his arms, to nurture and coddle her, he’d been commanded to hunt her down.

The wendigo snarled as it shifted its weight. As far as she could tell, there was nothing left of the male who’d sired her. Bria’s heart pounded in her chest. She’d managed to cheat death not once but twice so far since her birth. Maybe she should stop trying to thwart fate and hand herself over.

No!
The thought rang through her mind with the impact of a battle cry. Bria had too much to live for to give up now. She might have thought at one time that the only way to escape her lot in life was to die, but not anymore. The possibilities of her future were endless and she was mated to a male she couldn’t wait to experience those possibilities with. She refused to leave this world until she was damned good and ready.

Slowly, she deposited her backpack on the ground and drew the daggers from their sheaths. The wendigo canted its head as it continued to watch her, the motion almost
avian. Its lips pulled back to reveal tusk-like teeth that glistened with dripping saliva. Bria swallowed down the fear that threatened to choke her and gripped the handles tight to keep her hands from shaking. She’d never known her father, but this creature wasn’t him. She’d do whatever she had to do to save herself. Even if that meant killing the very male who’d sired her.

The air pressure changed. Bria’s shoulders felt weighted down, her lungs compressed, and her skin tightened on her frame. A sharp pain shot through her ears as though she’d been plunged hundreds of feet below the water and she’d yet to decompress. Swallowing, taking a breath, even focusing her vision, became problematic as the silhouette of a body came around the corner. The wendigo let out a mewling whine and rushed to its mistress’s side, coming to heel like any obedient pet.

As Bria struggled to breathe she tried to remind herself that she didn’t need the air in her lungs. The function was a reaction to the panic that gripped her, and if she couldn’t get a handle on her fear she’d be dead before she made a single move to fight.

“You’re not much use to me now.” The necromancer’s voice slithered toward Bria, coating her senses as though with thick oil. “But a bargain made is a bargain kept. No one, not even the niece of Thomas Fairchild, is allowed to escape her fate.”

A chill shivered down Bria’s spine. It would do no good to ask for mercy. None would be afforded. “Only a coward enslaves another and forces him to do her bidding. Perhaps you should fight your own battles, witch? Otherwise I can’t be convinced that you’re as formidable as I’ve been told you are.”

Bravado? Oh, absolutely. If Bria didn’t do something to bolster her confidence she’d surely crack. Her vision cleared by slow degrees, and soon Astrid’s face came
clearly into focus. Bria never would have guessed the lithe beauty standing before her practiced such dark and forbidden magic. Her long hair was nearly silver, the strands shining in the low light. A serene expression rested on her eternally youthful face and not a single blemish marred her flawless skin. Teeth white and straight became visible as a slow smile spread across her dark pink lips, and her eyes, wide and blue as a pool under the summer sun, watched Bria with not much more than mild interest. Astrid could have passed for nineteen, if that. And she was beautiful enough to be a model or a movie star. The necromancer must have fit in quite well in L.A.

“Do you think I roll out of bed looking like this?” Laughter filled the air, light and euphonious. Had she heard Bria’s thoughts? Astrid reached down with one perfectly manicured hand and stroked the top of the wendigo’s head. “Dark magic takes a toll on the body. Fortunately for me, I’ve found a way to counteract its effects.”

Bria’s stomach turned. It hadn’t been enough that her mother had sacrificed a member of their coven to resurrect her father. Astrid had exacted a higher price. “The blood of an infant,” Bria murmured more to herself. She didn’t need confirmation to know the truth of it.

“It does wonders,” Astrid replied with a smirk. “Better than Botox.”

Bria choked up on the daggers and kept her weight on the balls of her feet. Static energy charged the air and instinct, coupled with weeks of Jenner’s instruction, clawed at the back of her mind. Astrid brought her finger gently down on the wendigo’s head.
Tap, tap, tap.
And Bria braced for the impending attack.

Jenner hustled down the walkway toward the front of Mikhail’s property where he’d left his bike. His tether with Bria had become increasing slack to the point that he
could no longer feel the presence of her soul. Panic welled hot and thick in his throat and Jenner swallowed it down. Gods-damn it, if he’d just compromised—not treated her as though she had no choices—he wouldn’t be tracking her all over the fucking city, worried over the fact that something, or someone, had managed to block their bond.

His cell rang and Jenner dug it from his pocket as he straddled the worn leather seat of his bike. Ronan’s name popped up on the ID and Jenner swiped his finger across the screen as he turned the key. “You need to check on your sister, dude.” The bike roared to life and Jenner spoke over the growl of the engine: “I think she might break her new toy.” He revved the engine and coasted down the driveway. The metal gates slid open and with every inch Jenner’s impatience mounted.

“Later.” Ronan replied. “Lucas is on his own for now. Get downtown. Now. Naya’s got a bead on your necromancer.”

Fuck.
Jenner hit the gas and sped through the gate. He was at least twenty minutes away if he put the pedal to the metal. Fifteen if he ignored traffic lights. His gut twisted into an unyielding knot and he damn near broke the hunk of plastic in his hand with the tension that stretched out through his fingers. He held the phone closer to his ear, the sound of wind rushing past him nearly drowning out the sound of his own voice. “Where?”

“We were driving past Flower when Naya picked up on the magic. Mikhail sent me to pick up Saeed before sunrise and I’m on a time crunch.”

Jenner’s heart rate kicked into overdrive. He pushed the bike as fast as it would go, one hand steering while the other held the phone to his ear. “Lucas took Bria to The Standard on Flower last night.”

“Fuck,” Ronan spat. “That’s only a few blocks from where we are now.”

Agitation churned like acid in Jenner’s gut. He weaved between two cars, nearly clipping the rearview mirror of a Corvette before he righted the tottering bike. “I’m about ten minutes out.” Less if he could help it. “Saeed can wait. I can’t sense Bria. There’s not even a blood bond between us anymore.”

Another sharp expletive came through the receiver. In the background Naya said something to Ronan and he replied, “Absolutely not.”

“So what, you’re just going to fucking abandon her?” Jenner had no way of knowing if the necromancer had found Bria, but the coincidence of her location didn’t give him hope that his mate was safe. “Bria could die by the time I get to her and you’re just gonna drive by like a gods-damned punk and put Mikhail’s political agenda ahead of my mate’s life?”

In all the years he’d known Ronan, Jenner had never talked to his friend with such disrespect. Nothing mattered more than Bria.
Nothing.
Ronan could coldcock him later if he wanted. Right now Jenner couldn’t be bothered to give a single fuck.

“No one fucking said that.” Clearly Jenner wasn’t the only one riled up. “I’m turning around now, but I’ve told you already, Naya isn’t getting within a stone’s throw of that evil bitch. We’ll keep her in our sights. Just hurry up and get your ass down here.”

Ronan disconnected the call without another word, which was fine by Jenner. He shoved the phone into his back pocket, bent low over the handlebars, and sped toward downtown.