Blood Born (36 page)

He bought her a drink, and finished his own. She wanted to dance, but he made it clear that he didn’t dance. Not like this, anyway. He could waltz, he could tango, he could even jitterbug, and he was an expert at dances Janie and those like her had never heard of, but he did
not
gyrate in public as if he’d lost all motor control.

He turned to her, looked into her eyes again. Enough of the games. He didn’t glamour women in order to get sex; that had never been necessary, and besides, where was the fun in seduction when free will was taken away? “I have a room in a hotel down the street.”

Janie tried to look shy and uncertain, but it was too late for that. He could see through her too easily. “I hardly know you,” she said, but he could hear the echo of pain behind her smile. She was lonely; maybe she’d had her heart broken and was looking for vengeance, or maybe she simply needed not to be alone tonight, the way he needed not to be alone.

    
She deserved some care, but he didn’t have the time or the patience to play nice. “If you want to fuck me, follow. If not, I’ll find someone else.” With that Sorin turned away and headed for the door. Again, humans parted to make way for him, even though the room was packed and it wasn’t easy to create that path. As he reached the exit he turned. Janie was right behind him, her little purse tucked under her arm.

    Why hadn’t he felt it before? Sitting on the floor in the bedroom, intensely aware that Chloe was in the next room, Luca reached beyond the walls, searching for Sorin’s energy. Meditation, and the powers it gave, was something he’d picked up over the centuries. He didn’t sense Sorin’s closeness at the moment, but he quickly discovered his lingering essence, and more.

Excitement. Violence. Numbers. Blood. Anger. Magic. All of this was gathered in one place, a place of rebellion and savage hope.

The site of this power had a heartbeat, a life of its own. Once he left the hotel he’d have no problem finding it. He’d be drawn there, not only to Sorin but to the unusual power of so many of his kind in one place, in one state of mind. Extraordinary, he thought. He should’ve sensed it before now. The sheer force of it should’ve knocked him over as he’d stepped off the plane, or as he’d reached for Hector’s essence.

But it hadn’t. So why was he feeling it now? What had changed? The energy had been there, it was something about himself that had changed. As he brought himself out of the meditative state, Luca had a disturbing thought: Had his bonding with Chloe made him stronger? He’d been worried it would weaken him, divert his energy, splinter his attention, but why else would this particular meditation be so
much more productive than previous meditations? What could a human like Chloe offer him, beyond sex and blood?

“Life’s force,” a woman’s throaty voice responded.

Luca rose with powerful grace and turned to see a misty figure that was taking shape near the closed door to the parlor. It was a woman with a long blond braid, a leather shift, bare feet, and a long sword. He knew instinctively who she was: Chloe’s Warrior.

“Why are you here?” Luca asked.

“I belong here. You do not. I have come to lay claim to my conduit.”

“And you are?”

“Indikaiya.” She gave him a small, mocking bow. “I must come through to your world. Your presence is interfering, vampire.”

“Find another conduit,” he said sharply.

“There is no time.” The image of Indikaiya shimmered, but didn’t disappear. “She is the strongest of my descendants, she has the power to hear me.”

“You’ve endangered her.”

“All of the conduits are in danger. Many of them have died. Do you think we’ll let this go unavenged, vampire?”

He wondered if it would be a waste of time to try to reason with the primitive Warrior. Maybe, maybe not. Warriors and a few vampires had, on the rare occasion, fought side by side. “Not every vampire is a part of the revolution you’re trying to stop. There are some among us who want to keep things as they are.”

“Why? What vampire would not welcome more power?”

“One who believes that the human race should be preserved.”

Even though she was shimmering and incomplete, Indikaiya’s skepticism was clear. “Preserved as food supply?”

“And more. I shouldn’t have to explain to you why humans are worth saving, even if they are fragile and short-lived and often their own worst enemies.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “If that’s the case, you could help me,” the warrior said. “Add your strength to Chloe’s, tell her what to expect, what to do. Guide her. Tell her to call my name. She’s fighting me; she doesn’t listen, she tries to explain me away. You may not tell her my name, but you can help her in other ways.”

“She doesn’t understand, and she’s scared.”

“She doesn’t have to understand,” Indikaiya said softly. “She only has to open everything she is to me, surrender her power to open a portal, and call.”

“Humans don’t surrender to anything easily,” Luca explained. “They protect themselves. These days they don’t believe in anything they can’t see and touch. It must be more difficult for the warriors to come into the world now, when no one believes in you anymore. When were you last here, by the way?”

“I was last called in 1777, though others have been here since that time.”

“Ahhh. How many wars have you fought in?”

“More than I care to count.”

And yet she continued to come back, again and again, to fight and perhaps to die over and over in the name of humanity. He’d never had the opportunity before to really talk with a warrior—the ones he’d met had always been in the height of battle, when conversation wasn’t possible—so he was oddly reluctant to let her go. “Does it ever end or is this all you will ever know?”

Her expression was answer enough. She was determined … sad … but ceaselessly vigilant.

Indikaiya lived beyond this world, but she realized what was happening here. She likely knew more than he did. Of all the questions he might ask her, why
hadn’t he thought of the most important one first? “Do you know why Chloe remembers me?”

“I do.”

Luca waited for the answer, but it didn’t come.

“But I won’t tell you.” Was that a smile? “Not unless you help to bring me through. I promise to tell you before I take your head.”

Luca tsked and shook his threatened head. “You seriously lack people skills, Indikaiya.”

“You’re not
people
, Luca Ambrus.”

She had him there. “No, I’m not,” he admitted. “But Chloe is bonded to me, so you know I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe. We’re on the same side, Indikaiya. Remember that.”

Indikaiya gave him a haughty look, the perfect picture of a warrior princess, then she faded from the room. Luca stood there, feeling the remnants of energy brush along his skin. That was a wild woman; despite the fact that she knew he was protecting Chloe, he still wouldn’t trust her not to take his head the first time she saw him, which brought up a dilemma, for certain.

He left the bedroom and went to the living room, where Chloe had fallen asleep on the sofa, her head on a pillow, her feet drawn up. As he entered she woke and sat up quickly, pushing her hair back and blinking several times.

“What a dream,” she said as she stood. She looked tired. “I’d hoped they would go away, that the bonding did something because I didn’t have any dreams last night, but I guess not.” She gave him a wry smile. “Though I didn’t sleep enough to have any dreams, so that might have had something to do with it. Anyway. I dreamed you and the Warrior were talking, and it was a woman! That explains the braid, anyway. Indi … Indi … Okay, just Indie, I guess. I didn’t understand the rest of the name.”

“How do you know it was just a dream?” Luca asked.

Chloe shrugged her shoulders. “Because I was asleep. Duh. But it felt different from the others, as if I were watching from a distance, not participating. And for once I wasn’t scared half to death. It all seemed very … normal. Had to be a dream.”

Luca stared at her, an idea so far-fetched that it jolted him to the bone beginning to form. The situation had changed, far more than he’d imagined. He’d bonded with Chloe, a conduit in the process of bringing a Warrior through from the other world. He didn’t know if such a thing had ever happened before. The three of them were inextricably joined, a triad of power. An Immortal Warrior, a vampire-wizard, a chosen human. Shit. Indikaiya was no longer Chloe’s Warrior, she was
theirs
.

    Janie was impressed with his hotel suite. “Wow, this must cost a pretty penny,” she said. “Are you rich or something?”

“Something,” he responded. He’d been rich, he’d been poor, he’d been everywhere in between. Rich was better, but in-between had always sufficed. No one in their right mind liked being poor.

Janie wasn’t shy. She knew what she wanted, and she’d been here before. As she worked the buttons of Sorin’s shirt he leaned down and drew in her scent. She was not as sweet-smelling as Nevada, or as musky as his last human lover, but she smelled pretty damn good and he could tell from her scent that she was healthy—not that he could catch any human diseases, but he liked his women clean and healthy.

“Are you taking birth control?” he asked, because that was what a human man would do. Vampires could impregnate human women, but it was very unlikely, and even if she did get pregnant the overwhelming
odds were she wouldn’t be able to carry the pregnancy to full term. Breeds rarely made it into this world. So far as he knew, no breed had ever survived more than a few days.

Janie nodded, pushed his shirt back off his shoulders, and started working the button and zipper of his blue jeans. She was so small, so short, and standing together this way only emphasized the difference in their height and build. “Yeah. You’re healthy, right?”

“Yes.” Healthier than she could imagine. “You?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m very careful.”

The fact that she was here belied that fact, but Sorin didn’t think it would be wise to point it out to her at this moment. She was simply taking his word about his health, so she was either stupid, desperate, or so lonely she didn’t care.

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. His clothes were more off than on and hers were loose and askew. By the side of the big bed he finished the job, and naked, they fell onto the mattress. She pulled the covers over their bodies as if she were suddenly shy.

Very slowly, Sorin pulled the covers back. “Don’t hide. You’re beautiful.”

He could see her blush, smell the blood rising just under her skin. “Turn off the light, please.”

“All right,” he said, because abruptly she seemed so nervous. After all, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t see almost as well in the dark, so she wouldn’t be hiding anything from him.

He turned out the lamp. Janie reached up and put her small hand on the back of his neck. She pulled his face down to hers for a kiss that was sweeter than he’d expected. Soon the kiss changed; Janie’s body language changed. Her last bit of shyness fell away as he coaxed her to desire.

There was nothing wrong with getting lost in the physical. Men and women were created differently for a reason—a very good reason.

Sorin was aware of the precise moment when Janie let go of whatever had drawn her to him and gave herself over to the moment. Whatever man had driven her to another’s bed, she forgot about him. She was fully Sorin’s now, fully here with him.

When he pushed inside her his own worries faded, because she wasn’t the only one in this bed who needed a refuge, a moment away from thought. She was warm and soft and willing, she took him in and cradled him there and they were, for a moment, alone in the world.

Sex remained the most powerful act Sorin had ever known. Beyond feeding, beyond violence, it spoke most strongly to his primal self. As a human, as a vampire, it was a pleasure that never faded, that never lost its power—not that he didn’t possess more skill now than he had as a human. Seven hundred years of practice was bound to improve performance. Some vampires painted or learned to play the piano; some accumulated wealth or things or even humans. Sorin’s interests had taken a different path.

Janie came quickly, and hard, but Sorin didn’t follow. He hadn’t brought her here for a quickie, which would be no more satisfying than a fast coupling in an alleyway. He slowed his movements, kissed her throat. That throat and the vein there were tempting, but he didn’t bite. Not yet.

She closed her eyes and her hips moved in a gentle rhythm, matching his own. Just as she was on the verge of coming again—easy human—he withdrew entirely. She gasped and tried to pulled him back, but when he began to kiss his way down her body she quit fighting and just enjoyed the ride. He knew what
he was doing, and left her breathless and flushed and shaking.

It wasn’t long before he pushed inside her again, and she welcomed him with a sigh and a gasp. He teased her, brought her to the edge and back again, and then he pushed deep and they came together, a nearly perfect ending to a needed respite.

Their rendezvous became entirely perfect when he lowered his head and bit into her throat, nipping the vein, drinking deeply, tasting everything that she was: satisfied, sad, angry, happy, in love.

Not with him, of course, but still, she was filled with love that had done nothing but hurt her.

She hadn’t felt the bite, but evidence of it would remain if he didn’t tend to the site. He licked; she laughed, unaware of why he was raking his tongue across her very delicate neck.

“That was amazing,” she said. “Really, I had no idea sex could be so … amazing.” Then she laughed, because she couldn’t find another word other than the one she’d just used.

Sorin turned on the light. Janie tried to pull the sheet up to cover herself, but he stopped her, took her chin in his hand, forced her to look into his eyes. “Whatever man hurt you, he isn’t worth the pain he’s caused.”

“No man has …” she began, attempting to lie. The shine of tears gave her away. “He’s an idiot. I don’t know why I let him affect me this way. He cheated. I wasn’t enough for him, even though I tried so hard.”

“Do you want me to kill him for you?” He made the offer, wishing she’d take him up on it. He needed to kill someone right now, because nothing else had worked out right today.