Blood Entangled (44 page)

For a little while, she’d had it all. But it was too good to be true. At least she had Kos—she would never let him go. She squeezed his hands tighter.

Bel pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes before he rubbed over the top of his shaggy black hair.

Zoey stood and paced a small circle in the corner of the room. “This is because of your blood, Uta?”

“
Da
,” she croaked, her voice ravaged by whatever was happening to her.

Like a dentist, Andre examined Bel’s mouth.

Zoey’s next question was a whisper. “Are you bonded?”

Bonded? Lena inhaled. That wasn’t so bad. It seemed like they were dying, or turning into zombies or something.

“Yes,” Uta groaned, as if she thought it was a fate worse than the apocalypse.

Zoey whistled. “Bel too?”

Bel stood, his face now crimson. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Across the table, Uta stood too, hissing.

Booming from beside Bel, Andre shouted. “Sit down, both of you. I do not have the patience for you to act like children right now.”

Why were they so angry? Being bonded wasn’t that bad…but they hadn’t chosen, had no free will, obviously didn’t even like each other. Her hope drained away again. Mason had tried to take away her choices. She couldn’t do that to a child.

“Start from the beginning.” Bel lowered himself back into his chair.

Kos followed suit, sitting and angling his chair toward his brother. “Lena and I want to—”

“That’s not the beginning.” Andre took the chair next to Bel. “When your mother wanted to conceive a child, she asked for Uta’s help.” Andre glanced at the female vampire and the muscles in his jaw bulged.

“What did they do?” Spittle flew from Bel’s mouth.

“Mother drank Uta’s blood. To make her eggs stronger. And then, her vampire-charged ovum was fertilized with Andre’s blood.”

“Blood?” Bel whispered. “So I have exactly half of your genes? I’m half an Andre clone?” He looked like he’d just swallowed a mouthful of spoiled milk. Poor guy. She wouldn’t like to learn she was half somebody else either, although a son that was half Kos didn’t sound so bad.

Bel leveled his gaze at Uta. “So how do we break this connection?”

Could they?

Andre whistled, the unhelpful sound of someone looking onto a trainwreck from a distance.

“We do not.” Uta crossed her arms and her legs. “To break, one of us must die.”

“I vote you,” he said. No one laughed. Bel interlaced his fingers and leaned back, resting his head in his hands. His casual pose didn’t fool Lena. And no one laughed, either.

Lena dragged her knees up to her chest, tucking her forehead into them. Kos kept his warm, dry palm against her neck, letting her know she wasn’t alone.

For a long time, silence blanketed the room. Lena looked up from her kneecaps to find Bel staring at the ceiling, inhaling so slowly he had to be pacing his breaths. What did it feel like in his skin, to see this female he’d hated his whole life only to find out she was his bonded vampire mate?

When he finally looked at Uta, his eyes were green orbs with flecks of amber blazing in them—Andre’s eyes, but his had never looked so fiery. “How long have you known?” Bel whispered.

“Since you were born.” Watery red tears had formed in Uta’s eyes but she managed not to spill them.

So long? Lena’s heart thudded in her chest. Her eyes filled too, with tears for Uta and for Mirko, who could never be—

“Since he was born?
Davo
,” Andre roared. “Did you know it would happen? What the hell were you thinking?”

“I am not knowing,” she said. “My sire is telling me about this magic from time when vampires are living with Hunters. Only after Bel is born, am I remembering his stories—the godmother is always having mate. If I am having mate when Mila drank my blood, Bel is free.”

“Really?” Lena slipped out of Kos’s hold to lean closer to Uta.

Zoey halted her pacing. “So, if Lena drank
my
blood, the baby would not ever feel the way you and Bel feel right now.”

Uta nodded, blinking her pink-rimmed eyes.

“You would be insane to consider it.” Andre closed his mouth to begin his incessant grinding.

Kos spoke on a sigh. “Lena?”

She turned, and whatever he saw on her face made him close his mouth, cup her chin, and nod yes. She still had a million questions for Uta, for Bel, for Kos, but relief poured over her. She hadn’t lost Mirko after all.

Andre was not convinced, and his tone yanked her from Kos’s comforting gaze. “It is too risky. I wish you—” His thick black brows drew together. Something had caught his eye. He took hold of Bel’s hand, and pried his fingers open, holding up a narrow glass tube. “Bel, is this…?”

Bel nodded absently.

“The gold compound?
Davo
, son, I am so proud of you. A synthetic Blood Vine! Now the fire doesn’t matter.” He stood, holding the vial up to the light of the window.

Lena’s heart flew up into her throat. Could it really be? Could everything be okay?

“It is not working,” Uta said.

Bel leaned forward, fists clenching. “Why not?”

“Some things are mystery.” She shrugged.

Andre ignored her, addressing his question to his son. “Have you tested it?”

“Not yet, but the serum is chemically identical to what’s in Lucas’s blood.”

“You young ones are thinking you can know everything.” Uta huffed and crossed her arms.

“Lexi is making more as we speak. We’ll begin clinical trials right away.”

“Why you are bothering? I am telling you it not work.”

“Why are you talking like that? You sound like a mail order bride someone bought on the Internet.”

“Fuck you.”

He jumped to his feet. “Tell me why it won’t work!”

She spat back her response. “Mystery. Magic. I not know. But I am knowing it not work.”

His fingers twitched like he wanted to ring her neck, and Andre pushed him back into the chair.

“Calm down. Don’t listen to her. You are the scientist. I trust you.”

Bel’s head whipped to Andre, his eyes like saucers. His astonishment sent echoes through Lena, of yesterday’s surprising welcome from Andre. She went all mushy, eyes brimming with tears again.

Bel rasped out a “thank you,” and then he crossed his arms over his chest and put his big combat-booted feet all the way up on the table. It creaked and groaned like an old animal, tipping toward the crack down its center, and he scrambled to get his feet back on the floor.

“Well, great. Sounds like we’ve got that settled. This has been fun, Uta. Let’s do it again in another hundred and seventy years. And in the meantime, have a nice life.”

Uta clicked her tongue. “If I am helping it, we are not seeing each other ever again.”

The hair on Lena’s neck stood up at the same time Bel’s eyes flashed wide. Uta blurred to him in that freaky vampire way.

She whispered loud enough to hear. “Ten years since your Lexi is long time. For me, has been since you were born. It get worse now, Bel.”

She turned around, her smirk faltering with Bel behind her. “Andre, we speak later about Yousticia. I going home.”

Bel pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “You can’t leave. It’s the middle of the day.”

“I am having sun proof car and driver in work room.” And then she was gone.

Bel folded nearly in half, slumping in the chair.

Lena imagined which of her various kitchen tools was best suited to slicing air so thick with tension—maybe a serrated knife.

“Ten years?” Kos exploded in a fit of giggles.

Lena cringed at his callousness, but like magic the tension evaporated.

“Indeed, son, that is rather impressive. Even I never made it that long,” Andre said, obviously trying to keep a straight face. Friendly ribbing was the Maras way.

Zoey added, “No wonder you think not being able to masturbate is a fate worse than death.”

Kos snickered. Lena didn’t look at Bel. Best not to let her new brother-in-law see her laughing at his expense.

Ignoring them all, he went to the bar and poured a whole highball of bourbon. He emptied the glass in one swallow.

“I want you to use my blood,” Zoey said.

Bel set his glass down with a bang. “No way. Don’t make a baby like me. It’s not fair. And you can’t trust Uta. She could be wrong.”

Lena stared at the sagging table. “I trust her.”

“Bel,” Kos said, “I’m sorry to say it, but I do too. We’re going to try.”

Bel took his time pouring another glass, and then he squared his shoulders toward his father. “What about you, Andre?”

Andre’s face became an apology. “The truth is, I do not always like her, but I trust her unconditionally.”

That was all Lena needed to hear. She pushed her chair back and stood, crossing to Zoey. “Thank you. I would be honored to have you as the godmother to our son.”

Kos found Zoey and Andre in the kitchen, waiting for sunset so that they could walk through the ruined hillsides. They held hands, leaning their heads in close.

“May I join you, or are you going to the spring, like your first walk in the vineyards?”

“You’re welcome to come,” Zoey said, blushing at his mention of the time Kos and Bel had found the pair making out like teenagers.

Pedro and Lucas appeared in the kitchen door. “We’ll come too,” Pedro said, taking hold of Lucas’s hand.

Under the rising moon, a steady, cool wind blew, freshening the fuel-scented air with the sweet smell of grapes from neighboring vineyards. The pair moved quickly along the perimeter, Kos and Pedro following close behind. Under Kos’s feet, there were no clumps of dried sedge, no leaves blowing, no wildflowers or weeds sprouting on the side of the path—not any more. There was only a layer of ash over gravel and soil.

Andre held his spine straight—he’d put all his hope in Bel’s cure. It seemed that show of trust, and perhaps the airing of the great family secret, had done much to repair things between the father and son. Kos hoped it would last.

His father halted and turned his head slowly like a hawk, before darting between the bare trellises.

Kos and Zoey exchanged puzzled looks and then took off after him, while Pedro and Lucas fell in behind. Andre knelt before one gnarled stump, well preserved compared to the rest of the blackened skeletons. He wrapped his hands around it, brushing off the ash. Just one, or two, or three vines like this surviving, and they could rebuild, as they had when they left Šolta. Andre wiggled the stump, and it crumbled—nothing but charcoal.

Kos and Pedro joined the search. They examined every single intact stump. Not one plant remained alive.

“What about the roots?” Zoey asked.

Andre rubbed his hand over his forehead, smudging soot onto his olive skin. “The rootstock is Californian. We spliced the Soltan vines onto it.”

“Could we bring more from Croatia?”

“No, my vines were unique, and they were burned to the ground just like this.” Andre looked away, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Shoes crunched on gravel, and then Bel and Lena appeared on the crest of the hill. Kos’s angel raised her hand, smiling sweetly. In his heart, hope stirred. “Maybe in the spring shoots of the Soltan vines will sprout from the trunks.”

Andre attempted a smile, but shook his head.

Bel and Lena reached them, and she tucked herself under Kos’s arm where she belonged. He breathed in the smell of her hair—his generic shampoo. She was his, and everything would be okay.

He walked with his family back to the house. Inside the shield, a band of green lawn remained lush. Trys would keep eating her ice cream and keeping them safe until they figured out what to do next.

With one arm around Lena’s waist, Kos followed Andre and Zoey, holding hands. Farther up the path, Lucas teased Pedro and Bel. Ancient memories, long locked in their blood, were breaking free, and they promised that everything would be okay.