Wicked Ever After (A Blud Novel Book 7) (3 page)

She didn’t shrink back or struggle when I laced my fingers with hers, both hands, making a complete circle. She didn’t flinch when I brought my face to hers. Even when my lips touched her withered ones, she didn’t react at all. But she didn’t open her mouth, either. Already formulating my apology for later, I pinched her nose closed, and when she opened her mouth to holler at me, I set my lips against hers and let the magic liquid rush out between us, just as the witch had ordered, snatching her hand back up to make the circle complete.

3

Everything went dark
and thick, like it does in dreams, and the only thing I could feel was Nana where my hands and mouth touched her. It was like falling for just a moment, and then I slammed onto my back, crushed under what felt like a ten-speed bicycle. Opening my eyes, I found Nana flopped on top of me in her long pink housecoat, Criminy’s face staring down at us over her shoulder through the glass of the box.

Nana moved against me and muttered, “What was in that bourbon? I’m a married lady. Not you again. None of that funny business, now.”

When Criminy got the box unlocked, he gently lifted Nana off me, and wherever she was in her head and her drugs, she didn’t question being cradled against the waistcoat of a vampire version of Mr. Darcy in the Victorianesque parlor of a carnival wagon.

“Hello, Nana,” he said cheerfully.

She blinked at him like an irritated baby bird and said, “Hello, Vampire Bill.”

Criminy raised his eyebrows at me over her shoulder, and I said, “Nana, this isn’t
True Blood
. Meet Criminy Stain.”

“Your boyfriend?” She reached for glasses that weren’t there and pushed herself away to inspect him. He delivered her to his bed, our bed, and placed her gently on the silk quilt. “The one who thinks he can beat me at chess?”

“I’m her husband, actually. Nice and legal. We’re so sorry you couldn’t attend the ceremony, but you were regrettably in another world at the time.”

“You’re better-looking than Vampire Bill, at least.”

He stepped back, and she squinted around the room. I climbed from the box, still in my night shift and stockings, and came over to check Nana’s pulse. It was racing, but she was alive enough to smack my hand.

“It’s
my
dream. Don’t you medicine at me, young lady.”

“It’s not a dream, Nana. This is . . . well . . .” I looked to Criminy, who merely grinned and shrugged. Smug bastard was always amused when I was at a loss for words. “This is the world of Sang. When you said you’d rather get turned into a vampire than die on Earth, I brought you over here. Criminy’s a Bludman.” I tilted my head at him, and he obliged by opening his mouth to show shiny fangs. “He’s not undead, though. Here Bludmen are simply predators. If you don’t mind drinking blood for the rest of your life, you can probably live another two hundred years without pain. Right?”

“Right.” Crim obligingly leaned close, and Nana pressed a withered finger against one of his pointed canine teeth. “Whatever’s eating you from the inside will disappear, and you’ll experience a rejuvenated body and spirit. And you don’t even have to kill anyone to survive. If you don’t wish to.” Nana snorted as if she didn’t believe him, and he admitted, “Although murder can be quite refreshing, from time to time, if they deserve it, you can live quite happily on vials of donated blood.”

Nana pulled her finger away and stared at a tiny bead of blood at her fingertip, where she must have punctured herself on Crim’s tooth. On purpose. Little did she know that most Bludmen would have been driven to snack on her by that sort of misstep, but Criminy was known for his self-control . . . at least when it came to anyone in his caravan.

“I was hoping for Eric Northman,” she mumbled.

Criminy looked to me, one sharp eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, Crim. I guess she likes ’em big and blond.”

“We’re a bit short on Bludmen at the moment. I’m afraid it’s me, Charlie Dregs, a two-headed nutter, or the kitchen girl, unless you wish to go into town and find yourself a beau. But I can guarantee that I have more control and kindness than any stranger.” Criminy bowed, and Nana nodded regally.

“You’ll do, I reckon. Just make it quick. Whatever brought me here got my heart sputtering, and the damn thing’s likely to stop soon.”

I reached for her hand, clasping it warmly between my own. “Are you sure, Nana?”

She squeezed once. “Why the hell not, sugar?” she said, a wicked glint in her eye.

Judging by the fact that
she was weaker than ever, was still high as a kite, and might change her mind if she lived long enough to get sober, Criminy and I elected to blud her on the spot. Well, after borrowing some tarps from Mr. Murdoch’s workshop. I hovered around with various throw pillows and blankets, trying to make her as cozy as possible in a cleared-out corner of our parlor. She smacked my hand as I tried to prop her up more comfortably, and Crim muttered, “It’s not a cushy activity, love. Best just get out of the way and let us get on with it.”

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt much.”

He silenced me with a firm shake of his head and leaned close. “With you, there are certain things I can do to take your mind off the process. Fluid is fluid, after all. With your grandmother, however, I’m going to keep it as straightforward as possible.” He gave me a meaningful look and handed me his top hat, then, on second thought, stripped to the waist.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Nana murmured as she nursed the glass of red wine Criminy had given her to further lower her inhibitions.

With more awkwardness and less predation than I’d ever seen him exhibit, Criminy pulled off his boots and crawled to my drunk grandmother’s side in his black breeches and argyle socks. “Now, Nana,” he said, “you must understand that there’s a fair amount of give-and-take here. It may hurt a little bit.”

“Everything’s hurt me for ten years past, boy,” she said, eyeing him.

“And although my general practice is to follow a lady’s wishes, I will not stop once I start, no matter what you say or how you push me away. To do so would ensure your almost immediate demise. Do you understand?”

Nana tossed back the last of the wine and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Talky feller, ain’t he? I would’ve figured you for a man of action, Mr. Bill. Now, let’s get this over with.”

Criminy looked at me and smothered a grin. “Reminds me a little of you on your first day here, love. All business.”

“As a famous man once said, get busy living or get busy dying,” I muttered.

“Mm-hmm. Morgan Freeman,” Nana said, all dreamy, settling back and crossing her arms. “Do you think he’s God in this world, too?”

I pulled up a chair before my legs gave out. This process had terrified me ever since the future had revealed that I would one day be a Bludman, too. Discovering I was a glancer had turned out to be a boon in many ways, considering that whenever I touched someone’s skin for the first time, I was afforded a vision of their destiny. It certainly helped me earn my keep in the caravan. Glancers weren’t supposed to see themselves in the future, and yet, touching Criminy all that time ago, my hand flat on his chest, I had.

It wasn’t even the pain of bludding so much that worried me. As he’d heard but supposedly never experienced, adding a little sex to the mix made the whole thing more enjoyable for both parties. No, what really bothered me was giving up my humanity, the core of who I was.

Back on Earth, I was a hospice nurse, providing comfort and strength when people needed it most. Here in Sang, a world with no germs, I was a ringmaster’s kept wife with a gift for fortune-telling. As much as I loved Criminy and wouldn’t go back to Earth permanently even if I could, becoming a Bludman meant I stood to lose my home world and the very root of my being. Instead of helping people, I would have no choice but to take from them—even if they gave the blood willingly.

I had always been fiercely proud and self-reliant, especially after I’d left Jeff and his suffocating ways. Nursing was my calling. And Sang had no use for nurses. With Nana in this world and on her way to being nearly indestructible, there was no logical reason to remain human. Nothing to stand in my way of dropping the twenty years of unnecessary aging the witch had gifted me in exchange for the potion I’d just used. Nothing to stop me from learning to laugh as recklessly as my husband. I couldn’t even have children, thanks to a dangerous miscarriage years before on Earth. All I had to take care of was Crim, and he could take care of himself perfectly well and laugh his way through any challenge. I’d have to find a new and satisfying way to be truly useful.

But he wasn’t laughing now—he looked like a bull in a china shop. Carefully, kindly, he leaned over Nana, trying not to touch her fragile bones, probably because I’d told him often enough how easily she bruised these days, how paper-thin her skin had grown. A small flare of jealousy reared up in me, for just a moment, when I saw his lips press to her neck, but when I saw the grim set of her mouth and the fearful cast of her eyes, the way her hands were primly folded in her lap and shaking, I remembered that this was as vital an operation as any she’d undergone on Earth, her one chance to keep going. And I wasn’t ready to let her go, so I held my breath as Criminy’s lips spread and covered the fluttering pulse in her throat.

When Nana’s body jerked, I did, too. Her fingers wrapped around Crim’s shoulders, and she tried to push him away. As promised, he didn’t let her, holding her firmly but as gently as he could, his throat working as he swallowed her blood. There couldn’t be much in her, tired and frail as she was. Her eyes went from terrified to slack, a little misty, her hands loosening from his skin. And then, with the sweetness of a father tucking in a child, he let her swoon to the pile of pillows, where she lay too much like a corpse.

“Crim?”

He glanced at me, panting, with eyes gone nearly feral, and shook his head. This was the tricky part, he’d explained once. Did the Bludman have enough control to stop when the human’s body was on the brink of death, and did the dying person have the good sense and the proper chemistry to accept blud into their system? Criminy’s red-splashed teeth ripped into his wrist, and I cried out at seeing the man I loved dripping with a fresh wound.

Beautiful and mostly naked, he draped himself beside her and pressed the wound to her lips, but she wouldn’t drink. The urge to check her pulse was strong, but just as in the OR, my interference could be what tipped the scales, possibly in the wrong direction. I barely breathed, watching viscous blud dribble from my grandmother’s mouth as she stubbornly refused to swallow, her lips pursed tightly just as they’d been when I’d tried to give her the witch’s potion.

“Nana, please,” I whispered.

“You must drink,” Criminy said in his commanding voice, talking around his fangs, “or believe me, you will die.”

Nana shuddered, and her throat moved. I was holding my breath, expecting every rise of her chest to be her last. I’d always assumed that moment would happen in her bed on Earth, while I was there to hold her hand and smile and ease the transition as I had for so many other patients. I had never in my wildest dreams expected to watch her latch onto Criminy’s naked, bloody arm and start drinking, greedy as a baby at the breast.

It was downright disturbing.

At least at first. And then I had to stop myself from cheering.

Nana’s eyes had gone rheumy and jaundiced recently as her body started to give up the fight, but now they were pinned to Criminy and beginning to sparkle a glimmering grayish blue. As she gulped, her insubstantial puff of hair seemed to turn like fall leaves reversing their transformation, from grayish white to tan to brown to a brilliant chestnut shade I’d seen in pictures of her wedding. Her gulps were audible and insistent now, her strong fingers clutching tightly where she held Crim’s wrist to her mouth, where he was trying to pry it away.

I’d been so busy watching her that I’d forgotten to watch him, and he was drained and beyond pale. I couldn’t tell if the hand he was using to pry her off was being uncommonly gentle or rapidly losing strength. My gut told me it was the latter, and after calling his name several times and receiving no response, I hurried to help.

Nana was stuck to him like a tick, her eyes resentful as I approached. When I put a hand on her forehead and one on his arm, I thought she might snap at me.

“You’re taking too much, Nana. It’s his turn to drink again, or it won’t work.”

I yanked hard, and she hissed at me and muttered, “Mind your own beeswax.” She clamped down harder and shook me off.

And so, like any well-bred Southern woman and experienced nurse, I pinched her nose closed, put an elbow in her face, and tried to pry her decidedly less fragile body away from my declining husband.

It worked finally, and she popped off and jerked back against the bed, nostrils flaring wide. “Sugar, you’d best get out. You smell just like a big, juicy steak just now.” Nana licked her lips and started to move into a crouch, her eyes glued hungrily to me, and that’s when Criminy pounced right back onto her neck.

She growled and pushed him away, but even with her newfound strength, she was no match for him. I could only watch, fascinated, as they kept on like that, trading blood and blud and barbs, alternately drinking and yanking away and being drunk from. It was like watching a nature documentary about a particularly foreign creature that you couldn’t quite understand but couldn’t stop watching, and they kept rewinding the bloodiest bits and forcing you to watch them in slow motion.

Finally, Crim yanked his arm away from her and somersaulted backward to a standing position, leaving Nana looking perplexed . . . and about forty pounds up from the seventy-pound bag of bones she’d been when I’d brought her here. She didn’t quite look young—there was something soft around her jaw, some smoothing of her wrinkles—but she had a woman’s shape and looked altogether more healthy and strong than I’d ever seen her. Criminy held out a hand, and she looked at it as if she might bite his fingers off, then took it and let him pull her up to stand.