The Turning-Blood Ties 1 (24 page)

I couldn’t say bites. I crushed the pills into quarters so they’d go down easier and got a paper cup of water from the bathroom sink. Slipping my hand behind his head, I helped him to ingest the pills. “Why did you come here?”

He choked a little on the water, and it roughened his voice. He sounded like a man, not the boy who’d attacked me in the bookshop. “You saw what happened. He kicked me out.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’d come here. You knew who lived here.”

“I knew you lived here.” His arm jerked in an effort to wipe away his tears, but he couldn’t yet control his limbs. “I thought you’d let me stay. I didn’t know you were going

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to feed off me and let him do w-what he did to me.” The last part came out as a shamed whisper, and he closed his eyes. “I love irony, when it doesn’t happen to me.”

He felt he was being punished. I wanted to weep for him, trapped in his prison of selfloathing, but he didn’t need that now. He would shun my pity and turn away from me. Then he’d have no allies left. “You didn’t deserve this.”

“Yeah, well. That’s your opinion.” He laughed bitterly, and more tears rolled silently from his eyes to wet the hair at his temples.

“It’s not an opinion. It’s a fact,” I told him sternly. “You didn’t deserve what he did to you.”

He looked away, and I could practically feel the blame radiating from him. I cleared my throat softly and decided to change the subject. “Ziggy, when you got here, did you tell anyone you knew me?”

“Yeah. The guards at the door. I told them I was looking for the doctor, that I knew you from the hospital.” He sniffled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mention the Movement. I figured they would have probably killed me.”

Rage brought me to my feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

With enough strength to splinter the hinges, I wrenched the secret door open and strode into Cyrus’s chamber. Two guards stood at his bedroom door, but they stepped aside and even opened it to admit me.

Cyrus was sprawled naked across the bed, the sheets and blankets in a tangled heap on the floor. Blood spattered the linen beneath him, and he snored in the depths of a contented sleep.

I could kill him right now and he’d never see it coming. The thought came before I had a chance to guard my mind from him, and I tensed, waiting for a response. His breath hitched, but he didn’t wake.

I stepped to the side of the bed, intending to wake him, but his arm shot out and caught my wrist. He pulled me down and pinned me beneath him.

“You’re mad enough to kill me, then?” he murmured against my neck. “You should have brought a weapon, because I can guarantee you won’t be able to do it with your bare hands.”

I didn’t struggle. “How could you do that to him?”

“How could you lie to me?” He twisted a hand in my hair, wrenching my head back painfully. “‘Who is he?’ you asked, as though you hadn’t the faintest clue that he’d come asking after you. As if I were stupid enough not to notice you’d cut yourself off from the blood tie, become so closed down to me that it was obvious you hid something. Who is this man to you, Carrie?”

I wanted to spit in his face. “He isn’t a man. He’s practically a child. And he’s a friend of mine. He was looking for a place to stay.”

“And I should just open my home to every derelict who wishes to show up?” He rolled off of me, and I pointedly ignored his nakedness.

“You do for your pets.” He’d grown aroused as he lay on top of me, and I clenched my teeth to fight the mirrored feeling from our invisible connection. “Why should it be different for him?”

“It isn’t.” Cyrus reached for the crystal bell that lay on his nightstand and he rung it sharply. The door opened, and the two sentries moved into the room. Cyrus pointed to the

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bedding on the floor, and they wordlessly began to untangle it. Cyrus reclined against the pillows, utterly shameless in his nudity. “I only did what I would have done with any of my pets. I took what I wanted from him, and in return he’ll get what he wants from me.”

The guards laid the covers over us both, and Cyrus pulled me into his arms. Though I was still angry, his touch felt so good that I didn’t resist him. I rested my head on his chest. “Promise me you won’t do that to him again.”

I felt his breath on the top of my head. “Fine. I won’t touch him against his will. But I won’t promise not to try to bend that will. He was a lot of fun.”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” I snapped.

He chuckled and stroked the exposed skin at the neck of my robe. “You’d be disappointed, anyway. I don’t kiss and tell.”

I started to rise. “I’m going back to check on him. He’s pretty beat up. But you already know that.”

“Stay.” It wasn’t a request.

“You there,” he called to one of the guards. “Blast, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Thomas, sir,” the guard replied quickly.

Cyrus nodded. “Thomas. Go and see to the young man in Carrie’s room. He’s in your care today.”

As the guard moved to do as his master bid, I called after him. “If he complains about the quality of care you give him, I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”

Thomas didn’t even blink at the warning, but I felt Cyrus’s pride through the blood tie.

“Very good, Carrie. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying your role as lady of the house.”

His arm slipped around my waist and he cupped my bottom through the robe. I pushed his hand away. “Don’t think you’re going to get any. Ever.”

He replaced his hand and pulled me tighter against his side. “Do you really think I could perform after the energy I expended with your friend?”

“I said I don’t want to hear about it.”

He laughed softly. “Sleep, princess. All I wanted was to feel you beside me. Where you belong.”

His words were like a death sentence.

Though it was nearly noon, I couldn’t sleep. I listened as my sire’s breathing grew slow and even, and his gentle snore returned. I propped myself up on my elbow and studied him.

He couldn’t have been very old when he’d been turned. Twenty-five at most. In sleep, his face was smooth and devoid of lines, unmarked by the volatile emotions that ruled him in wakefulness. His skin, though pale, stretched across a body hardened from years of physical labor. From what little I knew of the time he’d been born to, I guessed he’d worked hard as a human.

This man is your sire. This man is the blood that pumps through your heart. I pressed a kiss to his lips. No matter how much I tried to hate him, something defeated the effort. The blood tie? Or my own, insane attraction to him that grew despite his cruelty and depravity?

When I was near him, I wanted him. When he was out of my sight, I hated him. If I could

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just weed out my true emotions from those governed by the blood tie, I’d know how I felt. Maybe I’d be able to feel my own blood in my veins then, not just the scorching presence of his.

One of his arms secured me at his side as though he were afraid I would bolt. The other lay across his chest. I reached for that hand, surprisingly elegant despite the lethally long nails that tipped each finger. I remembered what Nathan had said about vampires looking different as they aged. If I lived long enough, what would I become?

I lifted his hand and wondered what I would see if I linked our hands the way he’d done before. If his defenses were down in sleep, would I be able to choose the direction of the visions? I laced my fingers with his and closed my eyes. Before the rushing current took me, his body thrashed against mine, as if he were in a nightmare. Then a red film washed over me and an unimaginable pain tore through my chest. I opened my mouth, or rather, Cyrus opened his mouth, and a scream of agony burst from his raw throat. “Father!”

“Hold still, boy. Your brother didn’t carry on so!” When Cyrus opened his eyes, the face that belonged to the stern voice sneered down at me. Though his skin was weathered with age and the lines of a hard life, he bore a striking resemblance to my sire. Blood stained the front of his shirt and the ends of his long white hair. His hands were inside Cyrus’s chest, searching, pulling, ripping.

In a dizzying second, the vision changed. The face before me morphed into that of a young woman, her body limp, her eyes wide but sightless. The searing pain in Cyrus’s chest began anew. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t move.

Couldn’t pray.

His father’s laugh echoed in his ear. Cyrus’s scream was harsh, his voice used up by his cries for mercy. A deafening roar propelled me out of the vision, and I sat up, panting, at the same time Cyrus woke from his dream.

His features transformed in his rage. “Did you get a good look?”

The Cyrus I knew was gone, replaced by the ruthless figure of John Doe. I cowered, and was ashamed of the motion. “I needed to know…” I had no idea how I would finish the sentence. “I needed to know how I really felt about you, and I thought I might get a clue by poking around in your head.” That wouldn’t leave me vulnerable to his manipulation or anything. My eyes searched the room, finally resting on the scar that divided his chest. “I wanted to see how you got that scar.”

Wrong answer. He grabbed me by my shoulders and flung me from the bed. I hit the floor and skidded painfully, the soft carpet cutting like razors as it scraped my skin.

“Get out!” He leapt from the bed and snatched his robe, angrily thrusting his arms into it. I stood, rubbing my tender knees. “Don’t be mad. It’s not like I—”

“Did you hear me? I told you to get out!”

He paced the floor like a caged animal. I thought he’d strike me, but each time he raised his hands they closed in frustrated fists and he dropped them to his side. Eventually, he gave up and stalked to the door. He called to the two guards who blocked it after he passed. “I’ll be in my study. See that I’m not disturbed.”

Aching with physical pain and rejection, I pushed one of the guards aside. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to follow him,” I snapped when they protested. I told the truth. The sun would set in a matter of hours, and I had a meeting with Nathan. I’d need to be strong.

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Because I didn’t know what Nathan would do to me when he saw me.
Fourteen

An Uncomfortable Reunion

T he guard sent to watch over Ziggy had fallen asleep at his post. I dismissed him coolly and took a blanket from my bed to tuck Ziggy in with. Fatigue penetrated me all the way to my bones, and I groaned when I saw the time on the clock on the mantel. I’d only get a few hours of sleep before I had to meet Nathan. And sleep would not come easily. I tossed and turned in the bed, agitated beyond my own nerves. Cyrus was still awake. I could feel his anger and his restlessness, but I didn’t take it to heart. Whatever he was upset about had less to do with me and more to do with what had been going on in that vision.

I woke groggily from the little sleep I did manage to get and dressed quietly, wishing not to disturb Ziggy. As I passed through the parlor, I stopped to check on him. He didn’t look like a boy anymore. His exposure to Cyrus’s cruelty had wiped the last traces of childhood from him. If the thought broke my heart, I could only imagine how it would make Nathan feel. I made a conscious decision not to tell him what Cyrus had done. For the most part, the mansion was still asleep. I got the distinct impression that this wasn’t an “early to bed, early to rise” kind of place. A few guards scurried around, preparing the common rooms for the occupants who’d soon fill them. With a fearful glance at the study, I stepped furtively out the back door. A fresh blanket of snow covered the lawn. I tried not to think of how the hedge maze, frosted with shimmering crystals of ice, reminded me of The Shining. I was creeped out enough without the threat of Jack Nicholson jumping out at me. I reached out to Cyrus with my thoughts, hoping that I sent off an innocent “just going for a walk” vibe. But it was like hitting a brick wall with my mind. Cyrus was ignoring me. For a moment, his neglect stung me. Then I had the good sense to remember I didn’t want him to pay attention to what I was doing, anyway. I had enough to worry about without wondering if my sire would rip me to shreds for my betrayal when I returned. Not to mention the fact I had no idea whether Nathan had even received my message, and if he had, whether or not he would actually show up. If I got caught, I was a goner. I couldn’t even lie my way out of a parking ticket. What if Clarence had sold me out after all? He didn’t like vampires, period. Why should I have expected him to help me?

I kept to the shadow of the wall. I was sure every step I took would be my last before I was finally discovered. My initial trepidation had mounted to full-blown fear by the time I reached the gate. My cover disappeared as the stone wall broke, and I gasped, startled. On the other side of the weathered iron bars, Nathan jumped at the sound. I hadn’t given much thought to what my reaction would be when I saw him. I guess I’d assumed I’d have to plead for my life or fight him, so I wasn’t prepared for the concern on his face or the way he gripped the bars like a man in a prison cell.

“Where is he? Is he okay?” he asked, peering past me up the lawn.

“He’s fine,” I assured him. “He’s just tired. He had a rough night.”

Nathan’s jaw set as he spoke through tight lips. “I swear, Carrie, if anything happened to him—”

“Hey!” I snapped. “Do you really think I’d hurt him?”

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“Yes, I do.”

It stung too much to let it go. “You don’t know anything about me.”

I started to walk away, but then I remembered Ziggy and my reason for meeting with Nathan in the first place. Before I could turn back, Nathan called my name, and the anguish in his voice cut me to the quick.