Vampire Elite (29 page)

Odji shifted so that they were lying next to each other, sliding his hand slowly down her body. “Well, I have a pretty big family. I have a father, brothers, a sister, and uncles and aunts.” Odji found the sensitive spot between her legs and began caressing it. “When we get out of here, you’ll come with me to live with my family.”
 

Zlata pulled Odji’s hand away from her body. “You can’t be serious. You’re talking about your Sekhmi pride. I’m not naïve; I know how Sekhmi live.”
 

“Yes. My pride is my family. What’s wrong with that?”
 

“You’re crazy. How can I live with your Sekhmi pride? I’m Amiti.”
 

“You’re my blood-bond and my mate. Our blood-bonds live with us; we consider them part of our pride. You’ll be safe. Nobody will ever touch you. I absolutely guarantee your safety. We have one Amiti female who has lived with us for centuries.” He kissed her possessively, claiming her.
 

She broke their contact. “And what? This one blood-bond supports all the members of your pride?’

“No. Only two.”
 

“And the rest? How do they feed?”
 

Odji shifted onto her, pressing her hard into the bed and opening her legs wide with his thighs.
 

“Don’t try to distract me. Answer me.” Zlata squeezed her legs back together.

“I’m in charge here. And I want you now. Open yourself to me.” He would not tolerate resistance, especially from his female. She was his. Amiti, blood-bonds or not, were supposed to obey Sekhmi.
 

Zlata put her hands on Odji’s chest and pushed him away, demanding that he release her. He had to obey; he’d promised himself that he would never use force with her. She rolled out from underneath him and climbed on top of him, placing her hands on either side of his head.
 

“Answer me, Odji. How does your pride feed?”
 

“What do you want me to say?” She’d ruined the whole game with her stupid questions.

“I want an honest answer.”
 

“Fine,” he bit out. “They feed from bloodstock.” He moved out from under her, stood up, and shoved his legs into his pants.

“So you’re inviting me to come live with your pride, while they keep my people locked up in prisons downstairs. How could you possibly think I’d agree to that?”
 

“Are you telling me that you’re not going to live with me?”
 

“I love you Odji. But I can’t live with someone who believes it’s okay to keep people—
my
people—locked up like livestock. You pretend it’s not happening. Blood just miraculously appears at your table. You may be fine with it, but I’m not.”
 

Odji cocked his head. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just be content with him? “Listen, Zlata. What can I do to convince you to come with me? As soon as we’re out of here, I’ll give you the world. I’ll give you a life you could never have imagined. I love you. I want you, desperately, more than anything else in the world. But I can’t abandon my pride for you.”
 

Zlata shrugged. “It’s up to you. When the humans let us go, I’m not coming with you until—”

“Until what?”
 

“Until you change your perspective and decide to do something to end the practice of keeping Amiti bloodstock.”
 

Odji began pacing the room. He hated this. He really hated it. She was demanding the impossible. When he looked over at her, she lay stretched out naked on the bed like an offering, her message clear:
if you make the right decision, all this will be yours, boy.
 

“You’re asking me to do something I can’t do, Zlata. I don’t have the power or authority.”
 

“But you can help us. You’re Sekhmi; the Elite trust you. You could lead the Order to prides who keep bloodstock and help us to free them. Then I’d stay with you forever. You’d be my true mate. Help us, Odji. You’re the King’s son. You have the power to help us.”
 

“No, Zlata. I won’t. I’m Sekhmi. I can’t go against my people.”
 

“Well, neither can I.”
 

She got up from the bed and went to the intercom panel embedded in the wall by the door. As soon as she pushed one of the buttons, the green light came on, indicating that someone was on the line.
 

“Please, take me out of this room. I request separate accommodations.”
 

Then she got dressed and waited.
 

Odji dropped onto the bed and tried to look indifferent. He watched as the door opened and Dr. Orlov appeared in the doorway. Zlata picked up her belongings and disappeared behind the door without saying goodbye or even looking at him.
 

Then the heavy door shut and Odji was alone. For a few minutes he stared at the door, not believing how fragile and short-lived his happiness had been. Then he pushed his face into the pillow, biting down on it to keep himself from screaming.
Please, Zlata, come back. I can’t live without you. Please come back ... I love you.
 

But he kept his silence. Only a few tears escaped from his eyes, immediately absorbed by the soft fabric of the pillow. His life had just lost all meaning. But what could he have done? He’d faced the worst dilemma possible: his love or his people. And Odji had chosen his people even though it meant eternal loneliness and darkness in his soul.

Chapter 41

Zlata was shown to her new apartment at the research station. It was as luxurious as one could expect in a place like the station. There was a large plasma TV, a vanity stocked with cosmetics, matching bedspread and drapes, comfortable loveseat and upholstered chairs. There was a full liquor cabinet with crystal glassware and a small refrigerated unit.
 

But none of it mattered.
 

She headed straight to the bed and buried herself under the bedspread, soaking her pillow with bitter, salty tears. She wept until sleep overtook her and then drifted into disturbing dreams.

She missed Odji so much already that she could understand having dreams of him, but that wasn’t what was happening. She was dreaming about ... herself; she was herself, and yet she was watching herself, as though she was two people.

The following night and the night after that, her dream repeated. She saw herself at the chamber of Sekhmet, prepared for sacrifice, then in the room with Odji, feeding him and making love to him.

During the day, she became obsessed—with herself. She was missing herself and desperately wanted herself back. It got so bad that she refused feeding and was considering suicide.
 

Wait a minute. Feeding?
Where had that come from? She didn’t
feed
; she ate. Was she going crazy?

She freaked out, hiding under her blanket, then staying awake all night, turning the stereo or TV on at full volume, just to fill her mind with something other than her thoughts. But nothing worked. She was still missing herself.

Within a week she was craving her own blood with an intensity that was obviously insane. She bit into her wrist and sucked her blood. It tasted terrible. How could vampires covet it so much? And, to her disappointment, it did nothing to stop the craving, which just kept intensifying every day.

Another week passed and she became physically ill, the pain slamming into her like a baseball bat. Her skin crawled, her heart burned, and she had a splitting headache, a stomachache, and searing pain in her bones and joints.

“Zlata, what’s the matter with you?” Oberon’s voice reached her through the thunderstorm in her brain. His cool, soothing palm covered her forehead. “You have a fever. Are you in pain?”

She nodded carefully; any movement was painful.

“I’ll bring you some painkillers and we need to do a blood test.”

But when he laid her arm out next to her for the blood test, he saw her ragged wrist and gasped in shock.
 

“What happened here?”

“Nothing.” She tried to pull away from his grip.

“Who did this to you? It doesn’t look like a vampire bite.”

She needed help; she couldn’t keep this to herself any longer. She forced herself to communicate through the pain, speaking through clenched teeth. “I’m losing my mind. I’m craving ... my own blood.”

“When did this start?”

“When I left Odji. But it’s gotten worse.”

“So, you have a fever, and I can tell you have a lot of pain. Any other symptoms?”

“You’ll laugh. I miss
myself.”

Oberon started to laugh.

“Told you you’d laugh.” She felt her mouth crack into a smile.

“Zlata, Zlata, my dear, sweet child.” He leaned over her, stroking her forehead gently. “You’re not crazy. You have a rare Amiti gift. All Amiti in blood-bond relationships can inhabit their partners’ bodies in certain ways—see the world through their eyes, know what they’re feeling—and their partners can feel them, too. But your gift takes it to the next level. You can share the consciousness of your Sekhmi blood-bond: his mind, his body, his memories. You see what he sees; you feel what he feels.”

“Oh!” She finally opened her eyes to look at Oberon. “So this is Odji? Him missing me? His bloodlust.”

“Yes. You’ve allowed yourself to be absorbed by his mental and physical state. He has refused human blood, and now he’s in a great deal of pain.”

“Poor Odji.” Zlata’s vision grew blurry with tears. “I need to go back to him.”

“I think that’s the best course of action. At the very least, I need to teach you how to master your new skill. Otherwise, you’ll lose your mind; you won’t be able to distinguish your experiences from your blood-bond’s. And learning to do that requires concentration beyond what you’re capable of in your current state. I can’t think of any way to relieve your symptoms other than to relieve his. And then you can work on learning to project and withdraw your consciousness at will so you’re always aware of what’s happening and to whom.”

Oberon took her back to Odji’s room, stopping her in front of the door. “One other thing. Given that Odji’s on a hunger strike, so to speak, there’s a chance that he may not want to feed from you. If that happens, this will help you bring him around.” He handed her a small dagger inlaid with onyx and mother of pearl. “Always remember that vampires find the combination of nakedness and blood nearly irresistible. Bloodlust and sexual arousal are two sides of the same coin. Amiti have used that vulnerability to our advantage for millennia.”
 

Zlata entered the room to find Odji lying on the bed, breathing shallowly. He was deathly pale and covered in a sheen of perspiration, his hair matted to his forehead. She put the dagger on the table and tentatively approached him.

“Odji.” She lightly touched his cheek with the back of her fingertips.

His eyes flew open. “What are
you
doing here?” Even though his words were hostile, Zlata felt a rush of joy.

“I came to feed you.”

“Get out.” He rolled over, turning his back to her.

Now what? She stared at his back, feeling a tangle of emotions: happiness, anger, rejection, relief.

Wait: what was the relief? Oh, it was Odji’s relief, not hers. She tried to focus, as Oberon had said, and followed the relief like a thread leading back to his emotional field. There she found a tangle of emotions, but it was less complicated than what she’d been feeling. She realized it was because he was only feeling his own emotions, while she’d been feeling hers as well as his. Interesting. From here she could tell whose feelings were whose.

He was being torn apart. His heart rejoiced and was reaching out to her, sighing in relief that she was here. But he was trying to convince himself that he hated her for leaving him and for daring to disobey him.
 

Zlata smiled inwardly.
My sweet Odji, you’re just a little boy trying to play grown-up.
She got naked and climbed into bed with him, nestling under the covers and wrapping her arms around his feverish body.
 

He wanted to push her away, but he couldn’t. “I told you,” he said, his voice raspy, “to get out of here. Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

“Of course.” She nuzzled his cheek, still sensing everything he was feeling. The vastness and depth of his love thrilled her. It filled her up, making her feel complete, knowing how much she was loved.
 

“Zlata, it’s very hard for me to control myself. All I can think about is sinking my fangs into your throat and making love to you. You have to choose: either accept me for who I am, because I’m not abandoning my pride for you, or leave now and never come back.”

She flicked her tongue in his ear. “Let’s not talk about it right now. Let’s have a truce.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. No truce. Either you’re my mate and blood-bond or you’re not.”

“How can you be so stubborn? You’re starving to death. I’m here to save your life, to give you what you need, what you crave, and you’re arguing with me? What’s wrong with you?”

He pulled out of her grip. “Go!”

“Fine. You leave me no choice.” Zlata rolled off the bed and walked to the table where she had left The Convincer. Without letting herself pause to think about it, she drew the blade across the spot on her throat where Odji had first bitten her. She felt the skin slice open, and then the trail of the blood as it streamed down her chest, between her breasts, down to her groin and inner thighs.
 

If this didn’t release his iron control over his bloodlust and get him to take her vein, then his feelings for her would do the job. He’d have to seal her wound, at least, or she’d die.

Odji jerked and sat up, glaring at her. This was pure, unadulterated provocation, and they both knew it. She was playing dirty.

Zlata slowly walked toward him. The blood had reached her feet and she could feel the wet trail she was leaving behind her. Tossing her hair aside, she arched her back to give him a better view of her breasts and the thick stream of blood running down her body. She watched herself through his eyes; his vision had narrowed, leaving him aware only of her bare skin and her blood. All his senses and instincts were urging him to launch himself at her, but he held back. His willpower was like steel.