Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1) (6 page)

“I will.” A gust of wind tossed her hair about
her, and he was gone.

While the dogs played, she thought she heard someone
whispering. High-pitched giggling broke the quiet. The gagging, sickening sweet
odor of rotting flesh hit her.

She yelled at her dogs, “Salish, Bear, back in the
car!” Shutting the door behind them, she felt the rush of wind behind her.

Whipping around, she came face to face with a short,
heavyset man, whose bloated features were gray-tinged in the florescent
lamplight. Wearing baggy jeans and a plaid shirt, sleeves removed, he looked
like a normal truck driver. He shifted his dirty baseball cap back on his head,
exposing a thatch of muddy-brown hair.

Holy crap did he smell!

Wanting to pinch her nose off from the awful odor,
her eyes watered from the stench. Drooling, the man grinned, exposing rows of
sharp, jagged teeth. She backed up, bumping into the car.

No way to escape!

“Such are a pretty little thing. Ain't she, Stan?”

A scrawny vampire materialized beside the obese one.
“Yes siree, Carl. She sure is sweet-looking,”

Two? Aw, crap. Figures. First time meeting the
Damned and they’re redneck vamps hunting at a truck stop. Great, just how my
luck’s running lately.

Carl reached out a claw-like hand to caress her cheek,
cackling when she flinched. “What's wrong, honey? I bet you’ve never met a
vampire before?”

Her dogs
were barking, clawing at the window to get out of the car and help her. With her
back against the door, she had no room to open it. Reaching out to Rathe, she
found herself looking through his eyes and
saw the big, burly truck
driver he was feeding on. Rathe released the man, searching around him.

“What the hell? How are you—?”

“I'm in big trouble here.”
She showed him the vampires
through her eyes.

“Stay calm and do not take your eyes off
either of them. I'm on my way to you.”

“Yeah, right, I'm about to become a snack, and
you tell me to keep calm? Sure, why not.”

Silence.

“See, Stan, she's gots the hots fer ya. Go on and
make yer acquaintances,” Carl urged his friend.

Giggling, Stan sidled next to her. “C’mere,
darling, I’ll make it real nice.” His voice changed, deepened as his eyes
turned red, “For me.” He grinned, exposing rows upon rows of needle-sharp
teeth. Saliva dripped down his chin as he flicked his tongue at her.

“Sorry, you’re not my type,” she managed to say,
trying to buy time for him to return.

“And what
type
are
we?” Carl asked, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re Damned, aren’t you?”

“Well,
shi
-it,
Stan. She knows about us. Well, lady, lucky for you, me and Stan are the only
vampires hunting here.”

“Here, as in Phoenix?”

“No, here at the truck stop, sweetness. We don’t
like Phoenix. Its hunting ground for some seriously twisted vamps. It’s safer
for us out here.” Sniffing her, he jerked upright. “You’re different. A
vampire’s tasted you before. Hell, you’ve got vamp blood in you. Why didn’t you
turn?” Pursing his lips, he stated bluntly, “A Borne fed on you. Took a little
too much, didn’t he?”

“Carl,” Stan sounded worried, “we should just let
the little bitch go. Messing with a Borne is bad.
Real
bad.”

“Ah, don’t get a wedgy in yer tighty-widies, Stan.
Bornes are forbidden to turn humans, remember? Whoever gave her blood ditched
her and split before any of his kind can find out what he’d done. Don’t want to
be executed for breaking their precious laws.” He grabbed a fistful of her
hair, making her wince. “Since you’re almost turned, let’s finish it. Wanna be
a vamp? We’ll make it real special for ya, we promise.” He exchanged a big grin
with his friend.

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but he didn’t
abandon me.”

“Huh?”

“He’s behind you.”

They turned around when Rathe said, “Gentlemen.”
Resting on his shoulder, he held a broadsword. “Introductions are not
necessary, are they?”

Hysterical, she thought,
Where in the hell did Rathe get a sword?

“Slayer, your elders disbanded you and forbade you
hunting our kind! We’re protec—”
The blade flashed
blue fire as Rathe swung his sword with both hands. Carl’s head flew, bouncing
when it hit the pavement. His body slowly crumpled to the ground. Green,
nasty-smelling blood oozed out of the severed neck,

Stan grabbed her, using her as a shield. “You’re
him, aren’t you?”

 
“Let her go and I might consider
allowing you to live.” Rathe advanced, his eyes locked on Stan.

“Bullshit. Rathe Romulas never lets a vamp live.
I’ll tell ya what, I’ll just take this here little morsel with me, insurance so
you’s not—” She rammed her elbow into his stomach, winning her freedom, and
dropped to her knees just as Rathe swung, chopping off Stan’s head. Beside her,
Stan’s body crumpled, and green blood squirted everywhere.

Rathe pulled her to her feet. “Did they bite you?”
He didn’t wait for her to answer, checking her neck.

“No, they didn’t scratch me either.”

“Did you get their blood in your mouth, eyes?”

“Huh?”

“Hold out your hands.” Green blood was on her
hands!

“Get it off me!”

He reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a
flask. He uncorked it and poured the clear liquid onto her hands. At first it
hurt, burning as the blood bubbled like it was hit with hydrogen peroxide. He
handed her a handkerchief, and she wiped off her hands. No burn marks.

Dribbling the liquid down his sword, the blood on
it bubbled and disappeared. Laying his sword on the hood of the SUV, he took
the flask and sprinkled the liquid on the bodies and heads. Carl and Stan’s flesh
ignited like crepe paper before exploding into flames. The bodies burned as if
gasoline had been poured onto them, only hotter — way hotter. The wind rose and
carried away the ashes.

“I told you to be careful! Why didn’t you lock
yourself into the car?” Rathe’s black eyes blazed, becoming white-hot in his
anger. “Dammit, woman, their bite is highly infectious! Just one nick of their
teeth and you would have turned. I warned you about the dangers concerning the
Damned.”

“I tried, but I-I couldn’t inside the car.”

Swearing, Rathe took her by the shoulders and kissed
her.

Chapter Four

They
dared
to
touch her!

Crushing her soft lips under his, Rathe savagely kissed
her, forcing her to feel his anger, the scare of seeing her held by the Damned
had done to him. Stabbing his tongue, forcing her to open her mouth, he devoured
her. Her arms crept around his neck; Mariah took his anger and spun it into
desire. Easing his grip, he gave and she took, and he felt her entwine around
him in a sensual wave. He never, ever, wanted to stop kissing her.

When she eased back, he sought to bring her
closer. She shook her head and looked at the sky. “Did we cause that by just
kissing?”

Confused by her question, he heard the crack of
thunder and jerked his head up to see lightening slash downward, hitting the
desert floor. Clouds of dirt erupted. Thunder replied with deafening
repercussion. In all its glorious fury, the storm consumed the sky above them.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Rathe held out his hand,
‘willing’ the storm to scatter. Never in his life had he summoned a storm
merely by his emotions, sending the elements protesting his need for the small,
human female!

Glaring at her, he growled, “Woman, you are
positively lethal to my very sanity. Let's go.”

Pissed at losing control of his emotions — again, he
jerked open Mariah's door for her, and when she was in, he grabbed his sword.
Around the back of SUV, he opened the tailgate and slid his sword in into the
scabbard, hiding it underneath the black duffle bag he kept in the car. Taking
off his jacket, he tossed it in and shut the tailgate. Stomping back to the
driver’s side, he got in and slammed shut his door. He started the engine and
sat there, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. Anger
burned red-hot to the point where he did not trust himself to speak.

 
“Rathe, I
didn’t ask for those men to attack me! I’m sorry you broke the treaty to defend
me, but this is not my fault.” Mariah watched him nervously.

He drew back, surprised. Her eyes had changed! No
longer violet, they’d lightened to amethyst, the inner ring a lighter shade.

The Change.

“Rathe, what’s wrong?”

“You need to eat.” He drove back to the
restaurant.

Parking, he shut the engine off, and dug a twenty
out of his wallet, handing it to her. She took it and went inside the truck
stop. Salish placed her big head on his shoulder. Rubbing her soft ear, he
watched as a waitress showed Mariah to a seat at the back of the restaurant.

 
If the
Change couldn’t be stopped, she would turn vampire and be hunted by Slayers and
the Damned. The thought of her perishing or turned demon, caused him grief he’d
not thought possible to feel for a human.

“Don’t worry, Salish. I’ll protect her. No one will
hurt Mariah, not as long as I am alive.”

✝✝✝

Pissed and damn tired of Rathe kissing her and pushing
her away, she held her head in her hands, trying not to cry. When the waitress
returned to take her order, she requested a steak, very rare, and a soda. When
it arrived, the smell of blood sent her mouthwatering. Cutting a small piece of
the tender steak, she put it in her mouth and chewed. Swallowed it. When it
stayed down and she didn’t get sick, she salted the steak and devoured it. When
she ate the last bite, she fought the urge to lick the bloody juices off the
plate. Instead, she took the dinner roll and used it to mop the juices.

Bristling when Rathe sat down opposite of her, he
said quietly, “Mariah, we need to talk.”

“About what?”

“The Change.”

“What change?”

“Your eyes are different, brighter. And your neck
is healed. You like the taste of blood.”

There it was, out in the open. Playing with the
straw in her drink, she kept her gaze on the dinner plate. “Are you going to kill
me?”

“Mariah, look at me.” When she did, she saw his
concern, not condemnation. “No, I will not harm you.”

“Can I recover from this?”

“I don’t know. My mother might. Come with me to
Santa Cruz and meet her. We’ll try to find a way to help you, I promise.” He
took the check the waitress set at their table. “Do you need to use the
restroom?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I’ll meet you in the car.”

In the bathroom, placing her hands on the edge of
the sink, she stared at herself in the mirror. “Well, he knows, and you’re
still alive. That’s saying something, huh?” As much as she desperately wanted
to go home, she couldn’t. Not until she stopped the Change … until she had the
vampire blood out of her system.

God, what else could go wrong?

When she was back in the car, Rathe asked, “I was
wondering, did the vamps say if they had any friends around here?”

“Carl said there are vamps in the city. He and his
friend were the only ones who hunted the truck stop.”

“Odd.”

“What’s odd?”

“The Damned prefer hunting in the big cities. I
wonder why they weren’t with a clan.”

“Carl said the ones in Phoenix were extremely twisted
and they didn’t want any part of them. Are there different kinds of the
Damned?”

“No, there aren’t.” He seemed perplexed.

“So, are we heading to California now?”

“Yes. My family is there, waiting for me.” He started
the car and drove back onto the highway.

“At the risk of insulting you, can we be there
before sunrise and talk to your mother about curing me?”

“No, you do not insult me by wanting to stay
human. Life as a vampire does have benefits. Taken as a whole, this is not a life
I would have chosen for myself. The sooner we stop your transformation, the
better for you. ”

Unsure if she could trust him not to kill her, she
kept a close eye on him. Rathe gave her an amused smile.

“Mariah, I told you I would not kill you, and I meant
it.”

“What if I told you I was shown Murphy was killed?”
She stared out her window, praying she was doing the right thing sharing what
she’d saw in her dream.

Rathe jerked the wheel of the car, almost ditching
them before he righted it. “When did you see this?”

“Earlier. In my dream.”

“Was it shown to you or were you watching it
through the killer’s eyes?”

“The nightmare man showed me. Said I was just like
him.” She scooted back in the seat, haunted by her reaction to Murphy’s death.
The sight of his blood pooling around him. Her desire to lap it up.

Rathe looked grim. “Have you remembered anything
else about the night your parents were murdered?”

“Nothing else since last night.” She drew the medallion
out from under her shirt and held it her hand, finding it comforting.

“Perhaps the protection spell keeps you from
remembering as well as hides you from the man who haunts your dreams.”

“Maybe. Why would drinking your blood have the
effect it’s having on me and my medallion?”

“Perhaps vampire blood is the reason the spell is
weakening?”

“So, if I drank your blood again, I might be able
to break the spell completely, and I could remember what’s blocked inside my
mind?”

“We talked about this before. You need the spell
intact to protect you.”

“Rathe, I need to know why my parents were
murdered. Who the hell is the monster in my head? God, he speaks to me as if
I’m his long lost love and wants me to … to die, and I think it’s so I will become
something else. Something evil!”

He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing
it. “I know it’s upsetting … frustrating not knowing, but you must keep calm
and think rationally where it concerns the man in your dream. He seems to grow
stronger when you are tired and angry. Keep him locked out of your head. Don’t
talk to him. My mother will know more what to do to help you.”

“I hope so. I have the impression he is running
out of time
and
patience. When I hide
from him, it pisses him off —
really
pisses him off, and people are dying because of me.” Her stomach gurgled in
warning. Light-headed, she clutched her stomach, feeling nauseous. Pushing the
button to lower the window, she breathed in the fresh air.

“Rathe, next gas station, can we stop? I need a
soda.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

She could see he was worried. Nodding, she tried
to smile. “Just need to settle my stomach down with sugar.”

“Sugar helps?”

“For some reason it and salty stuff does. I ate
candy bars and potato chips last night and felt fine.”

“Strange. Does juice help?”

“Actually, it did. Why does it help me?”

“Well, when people donate blood, they are given
juice to offset the loss of blood. Perhaps the sugary substance brings balance
to your body.”

“Sounds reasonable. Maybe if I eat junk food, the
virus will be destroyed.”

“Virus?”

“Sorry, your blood I ingested.”

 
Giving her
an arched look, he kept quiet. Twenty minutes later, Rathe pulled into a gas
station and parked at the gas pumps.

“Rathe, you want anything?” He gave her a
quizzical frown. “Shoot, I forgot. No food for you. Sorry.”

“Actually, I am able to digest alcohol without
difficulty.”

“Sure, let me grab a beer for you. Uh, not a good
idea. All we need on our little adventure is you arrested for a DUI.”

“Alcohol does not affect me, like it does humans.”

“I don’t know….”

“Just get me a beer.” Rathe shook his head as he
got out and went about filling the gas tank.

Laughing at having exasperated him, she said, “If
that’s what you want.”

He ignored her.

Entering the store, the door chimes made her ears
ache. She nodded to the wary clerk and searched for something to ease her
oncoming migraine. Selecting a bottle of pain pills, she went to the beverage
section and pulled out a six-pack and a soda. Walking back to the clerk, she put
the bottles on the counter. As he totaled the items, she watched him, hypnotized
by the way he moved, as he nervously glanced at her. Inhaling, she smelt his
fear. It oozed out of his smooth, tanned skin. So delicious, it made her mouth
water!

“Ma’am, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Why is she staring at me as if I’m a steak?”

“What did you say?” she asked him, frowning.

“Uh, ma’am,” he nervously shifted away, “you
okay?”

“I’m fine. Just … need something to drink.” Licking
her lips, she heard,
actually heard
,
his pulse quicken. His heartbeat thundered in her ears. The rush of blood
through his veins made her mouth dry and the need to quench her thirst made her
lean toward him.

The chimes above the door went off as a group of young
men and women entered the gas station. Her head started hurting. The whispering
began low at first, building as more voices joined in. Searching the cause, she
saw the television, above the clerk, was turned off. No radio was around. There
was nothing for her to be hearing, but the whispering was unrelenting, a floodgate
of voices, ricocheting inside her head. Another wave hit her, crushing her with
their emotions: sadness, anger — misery.

“Stop!” she yelled, startling the clerk. “For
God’s sake, leave me alone!”

“Ma’am, I’m not doing anything.”

Crying, drowning in the emotional tidal wave, she
collapsed to her knees, clutching her head. The door opened, and Rathe was
beside her, kneeling. “Mariah, look at me.” When she did, he spoke to her in
her mind, his deep voice broke through the voices,
“Mariah, take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Build a wall to
block them out. Block by block, you can silence the voices.”

Clinging to his voice, she did as he said, building
an imaginary wall around her mind, and she found relief.
“Thank you! Who were they?”

“You’ve tapped into the emotions of the
humans around us. Some you could hear, mostly you felt what they felt.”

Cold fear
hit her.
“Rathe, you said I was sensitive.
How am I hearing voices?”

“My guess
is the medallion tapped some of your abilities and because the spell has
weakened, your talents are emerging.”

“Sir, do you need me to call an ambulance?” the
clerk asked, worried.

Helping her to her feet, Rathe shook his head.
“No, she’s fine. Migraines.” He pulled out his wallet and paid for the beer and
pop. Keep the change.”

Terrible pressure in her upper teeth made her
wince. Running her tongue across her teeth, she stopped when she thought she felt
the sharp tip of a fang.
Crap!
Rathe snatched
the beer and pop in one hand, and guided her out of the store.

He helped her into the car and handed her their
purchases. She took one of the beers and twisted off the cap. Drinking it down,
she didn’t stop until it was empty. Pulling down the vanity mirror, she checked
her teeth. No fangs. Sighing in relief, she kept quiet when Rathe got in, and
they drove away. She handed him a beer and opened another for herself.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“Which part?” she asked. “The ability to hear
people and feel their emotions or the part where I wanted to attack the clerk
and suck his blood out?”

“Look at me!” Using his fingers, he pulled back
her lips and checked her teeth. How he was able to do that and drive straight,
she wasn’t sure. “You’re fine now. How about the voices?”

“Gone.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“Yeah, right before the redneck vampires attacked
me. I heard them whispering.”

She straightened, clutching the beer bottle tight
in her hand when she heard the Gypsy woman’s heavily-accented voice say,
“
Never
remove the medallion, child. It protects you, keeps you hidden from him and the
Damned. He will never be able to find you as long you wear it. Forgive me, but
I must hide your true nature deep within you, your abilities will lay dormant, until
you are ready — when you are strong enough to face him!”