Blood and Snow 9: Love Bleeds (3 page)

She kissed her middle finger, flipping him off, and left.

Chapter 6

When I heard the bedroom door close, I slumped into the chaise. I was suddenly, overwhelmingly tired, and…
thirsty. It didn’t matter
my body had been in
a
prostrate position for two years or that I drank from Dorian not too long ago.

Christopher still wore a smirk on his sexy lips, and I wondered what he was thinking. Pushing off the wall, he sauntered over and casually lowered himself to a spot next to me on the chaise.

For some reason I imagined him and I in Sharra.
Me in the heavy dress.
Him dressed like a fairy-tale Prince. The way he’d talked to me about
kusala
and
akusala
—balance in all things. Perception, and how good and evil depended upon it. The way we kissed and drank each other’s blood. He’d brought out feelings—of lust, of hunger, of need. I enjoyed it very much. The memory sent heat to my cheeks.

His smile grew bigger. “What are you thinking?” He brushed his fingers along my elbow, sending tingles
through
my arm.

Blood. More blood. And, more blood, my inner voice chanted.

“You,” I answered boldly.

He moved closer, grabbing my hand. “Really?”

“Yes.” I tried not to let him hear me gulp on my need. He smelled delicious, and his blood sang to me. “It’s good to see you with your eyes open, and out of that box.”

“Ditto,” he said softly. His eyes raked me over, and landed on my neck. I realized he was feeling the same way about me—my blood.

“Want some?” he asked, tilting his neck.

“Y-Yes,” I breathed, flinging myself into his arms, sinking my fangs into his neck. Warmth, from his body and his blood surged through me, making my skin tingle.

Hunter blood. Magic blood, my inner voice clucked happily.

Christopher groaned, wrapping his arms around my waist. I shifted, so I was on my knees, my hands on his shoulders. He kissed my neck, letting me know what he wanted. I pressed my body closer so my chest touched his, and my legs found their way around his hips.

We stayed like that a long time, our bodies moving to a rhythm only we heard. When I was thoroughly filled, I withdrew my fangs, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“You owe me,” he said, his voice hoarse.

I was surprised. “You don’t want some now?”

“I do, probably more than you can imagine.”

I doubted it. I wanted his blood so bad I’d flung myself at him—literally.

Christopher continued. “First, I want to know what happened to you?” He skimmed my jaw with the back of his hand.

I bit my lip, hoping I didn’t look too much like the cat that swallowed the canary. “You mean why did I fall asleep for two years?”

He chuckled, his eyes still on my neck.

“Exactly.”

I gave him the abbreviated version, ending with the pain I felt, and seeing life through Silindra’s eyes. Christopher listened, nodding and commenting when necessary, but I perceived he was preoccupied.

I paused and asked, “Have you heard of the pixilette, Ryden?”

He cocked his head to the side as though thinking. “No, I haven’t. If
she’s
alive, she wouldn’t hang out with Sharra. Especially if she was a friend to Silindra.”

“True. I just hoped maybe you saw her in Sharra’s land.”

I was sitting on the chaise next to Christopher, my legs tucked around his hips. Every once in a while he touched my legs, and tingles flew through my body.

Something was bugging me. “Why don’t magical creatures dwell outside Sharra? There seems to be a lot of them. At least during Silindra’s time there were. They roamed the earth freely then. What happened to make them stay in Sharra?” I thought about the little pixilette who came to me in the library. She turned to dust after a short time.

Christopher folded his hands in his lap.
“I wondered if you might notice.
”

I played with a string on the end of my shirt. “Only just,” I said.

“Once Silindra was destroyed, Sharra went crazy. Some say it was because of her overzealous craving for power. Others, like myself, believe grief from the loss of her sister got the best of her.” He sighed. “Her magic combined with her paranoia grew so strong she created the land of Sharra, and imprisoned all magical creatures within. That’s why very few people see pixilettes, elves, or even vampires. For the most part we dwell in the Vampire Queen’s realm. We have to or we’ll die.” He pressed a hand to my cheek. “If one of us leaves, it’s guaranteed we’ll die.”

“But you haven’t died. Neither has Professor Pops, uh, I mean Adam Henry, or Kenmei.”

“That’s right. Only those who have been gifted with some of the Vampire Queen’s magic can leave Sharra without dying. Unless, like myself, Professor Pops, and Kenmei, they find a way around Sharra’s
curse
.” One of his hands found its way to
the bear he’d carved the day he
turned into a vampire. “Without you,” he paused and smiled. It was a heart-melting smile and I returned it. “I would still be under her power.”

I nodded, trying to understand what he was saying. “So she woke you after I went back in time with Silindra, and then… what?” I didn’t get how the little wooden bear broke Sharra’s hold on him.

He untied the leather chord holding the bear, and stroked it. “When Sharra turns a human into a vampire, we’re pretty normal afterward, except for the, ‘
Grrrrr
, I must drink human blood, part.’” He’d brought his hands up and curved them to look like bear claws while he growled.

I leaned back slightly in response, but laughed.

He laughed too. “I know, right.” He sucked on his bottom lip. Sexy. He was sexy. No doubt about it. “When Sharra makes one of us a Hunter, she takes a portion of our soul, and has command over it.”

I felt my eyes raise in question.

Christopher continued, “Not that she controls us, like puppets.” He shook his head. “Mainly it’s more she can sense us, and we can sense her. She can communicate with us, and vice versa. She can feel any really strong emotion we might have. Basically, it’s her way of keeping tabs.”

“Oh,” I said, remembering the way we’d kissed, the words he spoke to me. Had Sharra felt that? Did she know what we’d done?

Of course she did, my inner voice quipped. 

“To reclaim our soul, it takes something incredibly special. For me, it was this bear.”

I thought about Professor Pops and Kenmei, and wondered what their special something was.

“What about the chayot?”

He blew out his breath. “The chayot are different. Sharra never had any control over them. She still doesn’t, and never will. No matter how many she turns. Their power doesn’t come from magic.”

“I thought everything came from magic.” I thought about Sharra and Silindra’s non-parents, the beings that created them. They pulsed magic.

“No. The chayot were created…” He didn’t finish, seeming uncomfortable.

“What? Where do they come from?”

He balked. “Who
knows.
There are only rumors. I’m not sure anyone understands the truth. All that matters is that they can dwell wherever they choose, the same as the dragons.”

I stopped him. “Abernathy is alive, right? I heard Pops talk about him.” It was weird though because I’d seen Cindy’s spell book, and supposedly his eye was on the cover. How did that work?

“Yes, I believe Abernathy lives. Dragons are lazy. Time means nothing to them. A dragon could sleep a century and be none the wiser.”

I believed that. When Silindra went to visit Abernathy he’d gone back to sleep before she left his cavern. 

“What about the Chosen?” I asked. His eyes shot to mine, and I quickly continued, “Those of us who’ve been bitten by a Hunter and changed? We exist outside the realm of Sharra. Why don’t we die?”

He cleared his throat, avoiding my eyes, and my question. “Tell me what Silindra was like?”

“No, not until you answer me.” A flicker of worry swirled through my stomach.

He finally looked up. “Those that the Vampire Queen doesn’t choose will die within days of turning nineteen.”

Time slowed. Everything around me grew sharper. I heard a spider crawling along the carpeted floor, under my bed.
A slight rattling of the houses’ pipes.
An occasional hum of a car driving by.
My mind didn’t want to believe what Christopher said. But I repeated his words, his horrible words. “We’ll die?”

“You won’t. She’s chosen you.” He scooted closer, trying to be reassuring.

Did I tell him the Vampire Queen chose someone else? That she intended to hurt those I loved? I fought back an urge to smack him, and then changed my mind, letting him have it.

“Ouch,” he said, chuckling, rubbing the spot on his bicep I smacked. “What was that for?”

“It doesn’t matter who she’s chosen. I can’t let any of the
Marked
die. That’s unacceptable.” I wondered if that was the reason the girl Professor Pops loved died so long ago.

A picture of what I must do, with the help of the Seal, was becoming clearer. With the power of the Seal, I had to restore balance to, not just magical creatures, but all of Earth’s beings.

“I have to stop her, Christopher. Will you help me?”

“Any way I can,” he said, standing.

I stood too. “Are you going?” He hadn’t taken any blood, sank his fangs into my neck. At the thought my knees grew weak.

“Yes. The boys,” he said the word
boys
with arrogant indifference, “are getting antsy and Kenmei has arrived. I believe he has a lot to discuss with you as well.”

“Okay.” I sighed.

Christopher grabbed my hands. “I know. I wanted to savor the taste of your blood, your lips… all of you.” His eyes twinkled as his fingers caressed my neck. “Later tonight, after everyone is in bed. Leave a window open, and I’ll come back.”

In response, a smile curled my lips. “See you tonight.”

My heart beat fast at the thought.

You’d rather drink from Dorian, my inner voice huffed, but I rejected the errant thought. 

Christopher opened a window, and stepped onto the roof. Then jumped, landing on the ground with barely a sound. I momentarily worried he might be hurt, but noticed a
whisp
of wind running from the property.

He’s a vampire for goodness sake, I thought, shutting the window.

Chapter 7

On my way down the stairs, I heard a yowl, like the sound of a dying animal. Before I guessed what noise was, my cat came into view, his little paws sliding on the marble floor as he ran to the stairs—to me. 

“Gatsby,” I whispered, increasing my pace. He met me half way, winding his body between my legs. “You happy to see me, boy?”

In answer, Gatsby purred. I picked him up, rubbing my nose across his soft gray ears. He looked good, well fed. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, he jumped out of my arms and padded his way down the hall. I followed. Someone played the piano, a melodic melody. The notes clung and twirled in the air. Some of the brother’s talked softly.

Gatsby led me into the music room. He jumped on Gabe’s lap, curling himself in a ball, settling his head on his paws.

Gabe laughed, though his features stayed hard, stressed. “Comfy?” He scratched Gatsby behind the ears. I tried to catch his gaze, but he avoided my direction entirely.

He was seated in one of many white wingback chairs, one leg propped over an armrest. His sword (which seemed completely out of place) was in its sheath, but rested against the chair.

In the center of the room was a black grand piano. Bart played while Heathcliff and Sebastian stood behind him watching. Dorian was in another wingback, reading a manga, and the other brothers were sitting with Professor Pops and Kenmei talking.

Of course I’d been in here before, but seeing it filled with the brothers, Professor Pops, Kenmei, my cat… I couldn’t help the bubble of happiness.

My eyes found Dorian’s. His clothing choice needed to be discussed.

He watched me with a goofy grin.

“Really?” I said, pulling my shirt, making the words easier for me to see.

He chuckled. “Duh. You definitely do bite.”

I flinched, embarrassed. Gabe’s frown grew deeper, but he didn’t say anything. I wondered if he cared I drank from Dorian?

Maybe he doesn’t know, I thought.

Dorian came over and tugged on the bottom of my shirt, one side of his mouth in a half-smile. My heart rate increased. I wanted to reach out and touch his rumpled hair. Brush my hands along his square jaw. Press my lips to his neck, and taste more of his blood. (I couldn’t get enough blood, but two years
was
a long time.)

At those thoughts my legs turned to jelly, and my fangs pressed inside my mouth. Dorian’s pupils dilated, his usually gray eyes almost transparent, they were so light. He knew what I was thinking. I heard his heart beat faster, keeping time with mine. My fists clenched at my sides. One of Dorian’s fingers brushed the skin beneath my stomach, and my breath hitched.