Saved by Blood (The Vampires' Fae Book 1) Page 5

  Thank God, Kyle can’t see me now.

  Still shivering, I drifted into a restless sleep. Images of the shadow monster and the three beautiful men played in my mind over and over, taunting me.

  Daring me to guess which were the angels and which were the devils.

  When my eyes opened again, the itchy feeling in my muscles was gone.

  The room looked the same as it had when I dozed off, and I realized I had no idea what time it was—or even what day it was. Had it been several hours since my attack on that dark street, or a few days? Was I even in New York anymore?

  I’d become so accustomed to the constant ambient light and sound that seemed to exist almost everywhere in the city that it was strange not to sense them. This place was too dark, too quiet.

  The key jiggled in the lock again, and I jumped. He was back.

  I took a deep breath. Play nice, Willow. Stay calm and maybe you’ll get out of this in one piece.

  The tall, broad-shouldered man stepped into the room, but this time he wasn’t alone. The other two men from my dream stepped in behind him. The first one had a shock of black hair, shaved on one side and longer on top, flopping down over his stunningly blue eyes. His lip and eyebrow were pierced, his features sharp as cut glass. He looked like a rock star, and the tattoos creeping up his neck only added to the effect.

  The second one with the strange green eyes didn’t make eye contact, but I somehow felt like he was peering straight into my soul. His golden-brown hair was wavy, and he had a perfectly shaped mouth and a small dimple in his chin.

  My jaw fell slack, all the threats and bargains I’d prepared dying on my tongue. These men were beautiful, otherworldly—and terrifying.

  Before I could force words from my parched lips, the rock star stepped up to the side of the bed. He cast a reproachful glance over his shoulder at the tall, dark-haired one who’d visited me before, then leaned over to unwind the restraints on my wrists.

  “Careful. She kicks.” The first man’s gravelly voice was dry.

  “Yeah? Funny, she’s not kicking me. Maybe it’s just something about your charming personality that makes people want to kick your ass,” the rock star shot back.

  A grumbling sound was the only response, but I hardly heard it. The rock star’s face was only inches from mine as he removed the restraints, giving my aching wrists some relief. His blue eyes danced with humor at my stunned expression, one corner of his mouth lifting as he stared down at me.

  My breath hitched. The bright blue of his irises were so close to mine, and the smoke and clove scent of him seemed to envelop me. I blinked, trying to stop the sensation of falling into him as though gravity had somehow been reversed. I kept my eyes squeezed shut until I felt him pull away, his low chuckle lingering in my ear.

  As I sat up slowly, the first man stepped forward and offered me another bag. Even though the smell made my mouth water, I shook my head. I couldn’t deny what it was any longer, and now that the pain in my body and the cramping in my stomach had eased, the rational part of my mind was taking over again.

  And it wanted nothing to do with any of this.

  “Suit yourself, wildcat.” He shook the bag gently. “But you’ll need to feed again before too long. Your body has been through a lot, it needs nourishment. And I’ve seen what you’re like when you’re hangry.”

  My gaze whipped up to his face, startled.

  Did he just… make a joke?

  For a heartbeat, a ghost of a smile whispered across his face, then his dark brows pulled together again, his dour expression returning.

  “No, thanks. I’ll—I’ll be fine. What happened? Why did you bring me here?” I licked my lips. “What do you want with me?”

  “Nothing. Apparently.” Rock star glared at the tall, dark one, who ran a hand through his hair in irritation.

  The green-eyed man tilted his head, gazing down at me. Or through me? His irises were pure white instead of black, and I wondered if he was blind. But if that were true, why did he seem to perceive so much?

  “You were attacked,” he said gently.

  I clenched my hands, fear sliding through me like poison. “By you?”

  “No. By a shade. A dangerous supernatural creature, undead and powerful. We found you and saved you.”

  The biggest man grunted, turning away from the bed. The muscles of his back bunched with tension.

  Dangerous supernatural? Undead?

  I forced my brain to try to process those words instead of dissolving into a gibbering mess.

  “You… saved me?” I repeated dumbly.

  I strained to remember anything helpful, but all I could access were flashes of the shadow monster and the three men’s faces.

  Then something new sparked in my memory. A taste. Like the liquid in the bag, but hotter, more satisfying. I had drunk it and felt high for the first time in my life. I’d never done drugs, not even in high school, but I was sure the feeling I’d experienced had been better than any drug could produce. It’d been intoxicating. Addictive.

  “Yeah, we did,” said the rock star. He brushed the dark lock of hair out of his eyes, but it fell back into the exact same spot. “You were in bad shape, sweetheart.”

  “How did you kill that thing?” I asked.

  Goose bumps ran up my arms as I recalled the hulking, shadowy creature. It had been ephemeral and yet solid, and so dark that no amount of light could illuminate it clearly.

  The first man sighed, turning back to face us. “We didn’t kill it. That was our aim, but it escaped. We had to let it go to save your life. You were bleeding out on the pavement.” The line between his brows deepened. “You had minutes left.”

  “How did you save me?” I asked.

  A memory of claws raking down the front of my body assaulted me, and my breath hitched. I looked down at myself, searching for bandages or wounds. I was stiff and sore, but I could find no obvious signs of any attack. Except…

  I narrowed my eyes, staring at my arms.

  A network of fine white scars crisscrossed my skin, so faint I hadn’t noticed them earlier. They seemed to form some kind of pattern, but I had no idea what it was. Had each of these scars been a wound from the creature? How had they healed already?

  The blond man sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting a hand on my ankle. I could’ve lashed my foot out and kicked him in the face, but I was feeling less and less like attacking these men. Whatever the hell was going on here, they were the only lifeline I had at the moment.

  “You were too far gone for medical intervention. You’d lost so much blood. We had to turn you.” His smooth voice was almost apologetic.

  The words took a moment to sink in, and when they finally did, they drilled into my brain like a hot poker.

  Oh God.

  This wasn’t a joke.

  It wasn’t a misunderstanding.

  It wasn’t a bad dream.

  That opaque plastic bag I’d sucked so greedily from had been full of blood. I had drained the entire thing and liked it. I’d needed it.

  I stared up into the man’s kind, sightless eyes, my heart stuttering in my chest. Helpless tears burned in my throat as every truth I thought I’d known about the world crumbled around me.

  “Turn me?” I whispered. “You mean I’m a… a…”

  My throat closed. The word wouldn’t come.

  9

  Jerrett

  “A vampire,” Mal bit out curtly, his nostrils flaring.

  I rolled my eyes. For fuck’s sake.

  His anger was directed inward. He hated that he’d agreed to turn the girl. He was only being a dick because he felt like shit about what we’d done, but still.

  Give the girl a damn minute to process it, huh?

  The woman’s face drained of color, her hazel eyes widening. Shock reflected in their depths, but resignation was there too. She’d known, even before Mal opened his big mouth. She wasn’t stupid. She was just scared.

  A flush worked i
ts way across her skin, tingeing her chest and cheeks a soft, dusky pink. Goddamn, she was fucking beautiful. She was stunning, even in the midst of her shock. Even as she realized she was one of us.

  The corner of my lip rose in a half-snarl.

  No. Not one of us.

  Mal had made that plenty fucking clear. We weren’t keeping her, as much as I wished we could. Sol and Mal had both made good points about why this was the better course of action, but I still thought they were wrong. Mal was a great hunter—cool and calm in a fight, smart and careful. But when it came to things like this, he was a fucking mess. He tried to use his head to make decisions that should be left up to the heart and gut.

  “Vampire…”

  The girl repeated the word as if her lips had never formed those sounds before. She blinked then said it again, as a question this time.

  “Vampire?”

  “Yes. Like I just told you,” Mal said impatiently. He rocked on his feet, like he couldn’t wait to get out of here.

  Her eyes narrowed, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “Well, excuse me. I need a minute to deal with that insane news, okay?”

  I smiled, tugging my lip ring into my mouth. Fuck, I liked this girl. Anybody who talked back to Mal when he deserved it was all right in my book.

  Sol squeezed her ankle. “Take whatever time you need. We know it’s a lot to handle. But please remember, we did it to save you. You’re alive now because we turned you. I hope knowing that can help you come to terms with this.”

  “Hey, it’s not so bad,” I put in, trying to reassure her. “I’ve been a vamp for a long time, and I do okay.”

  “Not so bad?” She gave a breathy, humorless laugh. “This would never have happened in Ohio,” she muttered.

  I quirked a smile. “Eh, I dunno about that. There’s a pretty big clan right outside Cincinnati. And yeah, it’s not so bad. You’ll crave blood sometimes, but you don’t need to drink it every day to stay alive. You can still subsist mostly on human food. And when you do need blood, you won’t have to kill to get it.” I gestured to Mal and Sol. “We don’t. All three of us took a vow not to drink from unwilling humans. We steal blood bags from hospitals when we need to.”

  “From hospitals?”

  I bit back a grin. It was obvious this girl was smart and capable. But it was like the revelation of her new supernatural status had sapped her brainpower. All she could do was repeat what we said in a slightly higher register.

  Mal studied the woman, his dark eyes thoughtful.

  “What do you do for a living?” he asked.

  Her gaze flew to him, and for a second, it looked like she was struggling to remember the answer. The idea that she’d had a life and a job before all this seemed to catch her by surprise.

  “I work at a bar. Osiris,” she said slowly. “That’s what I was doing before I got attacked. I always work late, so I’m used to walking home in the dark.”

  Mal dipped his head. “That’s good. So you’re used to evening hours. You can keep working, as long as you don’t go out during the day.”

  The girl’s eyes narrowed in anger. I didn’t blame her. My brother was a good man, but his bedside manner could use a lot of fucking work.

  “That’s all you have to say?” she hissed. “You turned me into a…” She swallowed hard but forged ahead, her anger overriding her fear. “A vampire. And now the best you can do is tell me it’ll all be okay because I can still work as a cocktail waitress?”

  I tried to cut through the tension, even though Mal kind of deserved the wrath she was throwing his way.

  “I know it sucks, but my brother’s right, sweetheart. The best thing you can do is go back to your old life. Just do what you were doing before you were turned and stay under the radar. Don’t let anyone know you’re a vampire. It’s the safest thing for you. Trust me.”

  The girl turned to face me, a look of abject despair on her face. A knife twisted in my heart, and I could’ve thrown Mal off the fucking roof for making us do this.

  “I… I work at a bakery too. Will I not be able to do that anymore?”

  I grimaced. “Honestly, probably not. But you’ll be able to keep working at the bar. You work nights there, right? So it won’t be a problem. Just act like nothing happened.”

  “Act like nothing happened,” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. She was back to repeating what we said again, but this time it wasn’t even remotely funny. It was heartbreaking.

  I wanted to wrap her in my arms and hold her. To tell her that everything would be all right. My brothers seemed to be struggling with similar feelings, if the thickening of the air was any indication. But none of us moved.

  “You’ll be all right, sweetheart,” I said softly. “You’re a survivor. We all saw that firsthand. It’ll be hard at first, but you’ll adjust to your new life. Hell, maybe you’ll even enjoy it one day. There are a few perks.”

  From the corner of my eye, I caught Sol nodding slightly. The three of us had each struggled with various aspects of our vampirism, Mal most of all, but we’d come out the other side stronger than ever.

  She would too.

  Fuck. I didn’t even know this girl’s name, but I cared for her already. Though Mal was acting like an ass-wipe, I knew he did too. So did my youngest brother.

  It made sense. The bond between a vampire and someone he or she turned could be a powerful thing. It wasn’t always strong, but the transformation forged a connection that would never fade.

  You couldn’t give someone a part of yourself, something that changed the very essence of who they were, and both walk away untouched. That wasn’t how it worked. This woman with the soft hazel eyes and shining chocolate-brown hair was connected to all three of us now. And that bond would likely grow stronger if we spent more time together.

  Which, of course, was why my brother was in such a goddamned hurry to kick her out. He knew if we didn’t do it soon, everything would get messier and more difficult.

  “Do you have a boyfriend? Husband? Children?” Mal asked. His voice was clinical, but his eyes burned with interest.

  She stared at him for a second before answering slowly. “No. I… did. I’m divorced. But we hadn’t had kids yet.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. She was divorced? She looked young, which meant she must’ve gotten married very young. And what fucking idiot let this stunning woman go?

  “That’s good too. You won’t have to try to explain the change in your behavior to a loved one. It will make things easier for you.”

  The woman’s face paled, sadness washing over her features. I resisted the urge to punch Mal in the face. I knew he was trying to help, but every word out of his damn mouth only made things worse.

  Before I could say anything, Mal dropped the blood bag he’d brought on the nightstand. The girl stared at it as it landed with a dull thud.

  “You’ll need to feed again before you go. We’ll call you a car as soon as the sun sets, and the driver will take you home. Give him your address, and we’ll make sure you stay supplied with regular deliveries of blood.”

  Mal paused, a war raging across his features. Probably trying to think of something to say that would ease his conscience. But in the end he settled for turning sharply on his heel and stalking out without another word.

  Sol went to follow but hesitated in the doorway, turning back to the woman.

  “I’m Sol, by the way.” His mouth tilted into a sad smile. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, but I have to admit, I’m not sorry we met. What is your name, sweet one?”

  “Willow,” she said, her gaze trapped by his green eyes. “Willow Pear—er, Tate.”

  “Willow.” My brother repeated the name, letting it roll off his tongue like he was tasting it. “It was very nice to meet you. Remember, keep what you are a secret. Please be safe.”

  She didn’t respond, and a moment later, he slipped out the door after Mal.

  Willow. It was a beautiful name. It
suited her perfectly.

  She bends. She doesn’t break.

  I looked back down at her pale, serious face, suddenly feeling a little nervous—an emotion I hadn’t felt around a woman in a long-ass fucking time.

  Clearing my throat, I brushed the hair out of my eyes. “Yeah. Uh, I better go too.”

  Willow nodded, but still didn’t speak. She just stared up at me with her huge hazel eyes, an avalanche of emotions cascading through them.

  Ah, fuck it. Mal got his way on everything. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

  With my gaze still locked on hers, I sat on the edge of the bed and ran a knuckle down the side of her face. Her skin was soft, warm, and smooth. Letting my eyes drift closed, I leaned forward to inhale her sweet scent one more time.

  Cherry and almond. Fucking perfect.

  I turned my head and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. To my surprise, she let out a hitched breath, shivering at my touch. The responding rush in my body was immediate, and I pulled back quickly, fisting my hands. Fuck, I wanted to bury my fingers in her hair and taste every inch of her skin.

  “Sorry, sweetheart.” I forced myself to stand and back away. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

  I left the room, aching for something more than just blood. I wanted her. Her soft skin, her fierce spirit, the mystery behind her eyes.

  I wanted all of it.

  But instead, I had to let her go.

  Goddamnit, Mal. You’re gonna owe me for this forever.

  10

  Willow

  The tall man, the one who’d never introduced himself, returned to the bedroom after a while. He unlocked the door—which didn’t have a locking mechanism on the inside, I’d discovered—and gestured for me to follow him without a word.

  My legs were wobbly, and I stumbled slightly as we walked down a long hallway. He helped me regain my balance and then guided me downstairs with a hand at my elbow. I honestly wasn’t sure if his grip on my arm was meant as a gesture of chivalry or control.