Bound By Blood (19 page)
Authors: Amanda Ashley
“Not yet.”
“Katy, I’m not made of steel. Besides, we’re no longer alone.”
He had barely finished speaking when the lights went on.
Zack glanced over Kaitlyn’s shoulder. Her father stood in the doorway, his displeasure evident in his expression.
“Kaitlyn,” Drake said sternly, “your mother is looking for you. She is waiting in your room.”
“We’re coming, Dad. We were just . . . uh . . . looking at the stars.”
“Indeed. I will wait for you downstairs.”
“Is he going to follow us everywhere we go?” Zack asked.
“I hope not,” Kaitlyn muttered. “Good thing you’ve got so much willpower.”
“Yeah. I don’t even want to think about what he’d say if I’d let you seduce me.”
“Very funny,” Kaitlyn retorted.
“I thought so,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Be a good girl, and I’ll let you walk me home.”
She batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, Zackary,” she said with a fake, sugary-sweet Southern accent, “ya’ll are so good to me.”
“Okay, Scarlett,” he muttered, taking her hand in his. Side by side, they walked down the stairs, stopping to kiss on each landing until they reached the main floor. Drake was waiting for them.
“Hi, Daddy,” Kaitlyn drawled. “Don’t wait up.”
Drake scowled at her.
“Well done,” Zack said, grinning.
When they reached Zack’s room, he muttered, “I guess I should have seduced you when I had the chance.”
“I guess so. Good night, Zack.”
“What? No kiss?” He glanced down the hallway to where Drake stood, arms folded over his chest, watching their every move.
Zack grunted softly. What the hell. If her old man wanted to watch, he’d give him something to see. Drawing Kaitlyn into his arms, Zack kissed her slowly, his tongue teasing hers, his arm holding her body tightly against his.
She went up on her tiptoes, her arms twining around his neck as she kissed him back.
The enthusiasm of Kaitlyn’s response, the heat of her nubile body, made him forget that her father was watching. Until Drake cleared his throat.
Stifling a grin, Zack released her. “See you tomorrow night, Katy.”
Chapter 28
Kaitlyn was surprised to see her mother in the dining room in the morning. Usually, her mom and dad kept the same hours.
“Hi, Mom. What are you doing up so early?”
“Don’t you know what day it is?”
Kaitlyn looked at her mother blankly.
Elena shook her head. “Have you forgotten today is your birthday?”
“It is? It is! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I forgot that!”
“Zack Ravenscroft must really have your head in the clouds.” Grinning, Elena hugged her daughter. “Ah, young love, it’s a wonderful thing. Happy birthday, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Your dad and I are planning a party for you later tonight, but I wanted to spend today with you, just the two of us, like we used to. What would you like for breakfast?”
“Blueberry pancakes, bacon, and toast.” It had been her favorite breakfast ever since she was a little girl.
“Coming right up.”
Kaitlyn followed her mother into the kitchen. When she started to help, her mother shooed her away. “Not today. Just sit over there and watch.”
Rolling her eyes, Kaitlyn hopped up on the stool in the corner. “What kind of party?”
“Oh, the usual, you know. Balloons and presents and dancing under the stars.” Elena put the bacon in a pan, mixed the batter, and poured it on the griddle. When the pancakes and bacon were almost done, she dropped the bread into the toaster.
“At least let me set the table,” Kaitlyn said.
“Already done.” Elena placed everything on a tray and carried it into the dining room.
Kaitlyn trailed at her heels. “Oh, Mom,” Kaitlyn said when she saw how her mother had decorated the room. “It’s lovely.”
A pink cloth covered the table. A crystal vase held a dozen roses. There were colorful balloons everywhere, a dress-up silver crown beside her plate.
Kaitlyn grinned when she saw the crown. Her mother had given her one every year for as long as she could remember. It wouldn’t be a birthday without it.
“Please, sit, Your Highness,” Elena said. She placed the tiara on Kaitlyn’s head. “The roses are from your father.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“Best eat those pancakes while they’re hot,” Elena said.
“Looks good, as always.” Kaitlyn helped herself to several pancakes, three strips of bacon, as well as a slice of buttered toast.
“Milk or orange juice?” Elena asked.
“OJ.”
“This is nice.” Taking a seat across from her daughter, Elena filled her own plate. “I’ve missed our mornings together.”
Kaitlyn nodded. When she lived at Wolfram, she adjusted her waking hours to the ones her father kept so she could spend time with her parents. In Tahoe, her hours had been erratic. Sometimes she adhered to mortal hours; sometimes she kept vampire hours. Especially after meeting Zack.
She smiled inwardly. Zack. She could hardly wait to see him.
“So, what do you want for your birthday?” Elena asked.
“I don’t know. It’ll be pretty hard to top what you gave me for graduation and my birthday last year.”
“True.”
“I really don’t need anything,” Kaitlyn said.
“Well, think about it.”
“I will. These pancakes are great,” Kaitlyn said. “I forgot what a good cook you are.”
“It’s nice to have someone to cook for besides myself.”
Kaitlyn ate in silence for several minutes, thinking about what her mother had just said. “Mom, do you ever regret marrying Dad?”
“Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“It must be hard sometimes, living with a vampire. Eating alone all the time. Never being able to go out together during the day. You know, stuff like that.”
“No relationship is perfect. I don’t always eat alone. Sometimes I dine with Northa and the other women. And your father often sits with me . . .” She paused, brow furrowed. “Kaitlyn, you’ve only known Zack a short time. You’re not seriously thinking of marrying him, are you?”
“Why shouldn’t I marry a vampire? You did.”
“I know, but . . .” Elena paused. “I was about to say that the two of you are different kinds of vampires, but that argument doesn’t really hold water, does it? I mean, your father and I are different and yet we’ve been happy together. We’ve had to make compromises, yes, but every couple has to make adjustments. Still, marrying a vampire isn’t like marrying someone from another religion.” She smiled wistfully. “I guess it would be easier for you, all things considered.”
“I love him, Mom, with all my heart. I can’t imagine my life without him.”
Elena nodded. “You’re old enough to make up your own mind, sweetheart. Whatever you decide is all right with me.”
Kaitlyn reached across the table and squeezed her mother’s hand. “Thanks, Mom. For everything.”
After breakfast, Kaitlyn went into the library to read while her mother went to take care of some household chores.
Sitting there, an unopened book on her lap, Kaitlyn remembered how it had been, growing up at Wolfram. Before she went to school, she had kept the same hours as her parents, but that had changed when she turned five. Her mother had considered teaching Kaitlyn at home, but after thinking it over, she had decided that Kaitlyn needed to have the opportunity to play with other kids her age, that she needed to learn how to interact in a group, and to share.
And so her mother had changed her routine to accommodate Kaitlyn’s schedule. Thinking about it now, she realized her father must have changed his sleeping habits, as well. It must have been hard on her mother, trying to arrange it so she could spend time with a daughter who slept at night and a husband who slept most of the day.
Kaitlyn stretched her back and shoulders. She wouldn’t have to make any adjustments like that if she married Zack. Zack couldn’t have children, so it would be easy to keep the same hours he did.
Zack. She ran her fingertips over her lips as she recalled how he had kissed her last night. It was probably just her imagination, but she was certain she could still taste him.
Zack. Right or wrong, she wanted him with every fiber of her being, yearned for him with every breath. Until she’d met him, she had never believed in love at first sight, or soul mates, or that there was just one perfect man for every woman. But she believed it now.
She opened the book and tried to read, but instead of seeing the words on the page, she saw Zack’s image—dark gray eyes that were sometimes enigmatic but always beautiful. She loved the shape of his mouth, his smile that was sometimes cynical but always sexy. She loved the way he kissed her, the way being in his arms made her feel loved and protected. If she could have assembled the perfect man, he would have looked just like Zack.
Setting the book aside, she left the library. The Fortress was unusually quiet as she walked down the hallway. Kaitlyn grinned. No doubt her mother was holed up with Northa and some of the other women making last-minute preparations for her upcoming birthday party.
Kaitlyn stopped in midstride when the doorbell rang. It wasn’t an ordinary doorbell, of course, but a bell that resounded through the whole house.
Kaitlyn hurried toward the front entrance. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought there would probably be a present waiting for her when she got there.
She paused when she reached the front door. “Who’s there?” she asked, suddenly cautious.
“Victoria Galleries. I have a delivery for Kaitlyn Sherrad.”
She smiled as she opened the door.
A man wearing a uniform stood on the porch beside an enormous box wrapped in brightly colored paper. “Miss Sherrad?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to sign this, please.” He held out a digital clipboard.
“Certainly.” Wondering what on earth could be in such a large box, Kaitlyn reached for the clipboard, gasped when the man grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her outside. Before she could scream, he jabbed a needle in her arm. The effect was immediate. As if in slow motion, she watched him lift the lid on the box. She tried to scream when he picked her up, but only a whisper emerged. She tried to fight him off, but she had lost all control of her arms and legs. As if she was a rag doll, he dumped her into the box and replaced the lid.
And her world faded to black.
Zack rose with the setting of the sun, his first thought for Kaitlyn. He took a quick shower, pulled on a pair of clean pants and a gray shirt, combed his hair, and left his room.
As soon as he stepped into the corridor, he knew something was wrong. The sound of angry voices drew him toward the council chamber. He paused outside the door. It was closed and he hesitated to go inside. Until he heard Kaitlyn’s name.
When he stepped into the room, all eyes swung in his direction. Zack nodded at Drake, who stood on the dais in the front of the room. Elena stood beside her husband, her face pale, her eyes swollen and red. The thirteen chairs at the horseshoe-shaped table were all occupied.
“Zack,” Elena said, “do you know where Kaitlyn is?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her since last night. Why? Is something wrong?”
“She’s missing. We’ve looked everywhere. No one has seen her since late this morning,” Elena said. “I even checked your room while you were sleeping. . . .” She smiled apologetically.
Zack looked from Elena to Drake. “You don’t think that I . . .”
“No, of course not,” her father said. He sat down heavily. “There can be only one answer,” he said, his voice as cold as glacier ice. “Nadiya.”
“But how?” Stefan asked.
“A good question,” Ciprian said. “Since Kaitlyn’s return, we have placed additional wards around the Fortress to warn us of intruders.”
“Maybe the intruder didn’t come in,” Zack remarked. “Maybe Katy went out.”
Drake stared at him a moment, then nodded. “Andrei, I want you to go to the Korzha estate and see if anyone is there. Liam, go to the Russian Fortress and see if they have heard anything. Stefan, visit the Italians, Ciprian, the Fortress in Ireland. If we want to find Kaitlyn, we must find Nadiya.”
Zack shook his head as he listened to Drake assign the other members of the council to Fortresses throughout the world. It was, he thought, a waste of time and energy. But he understood Drake’s need to be doing something, anything.
Leaving the council chamber, Zack returned to his room and shut the door. Standing in the middle of the floor, he closed his eyes and opened his vampiric senses, searching for the blood bond that had been forged between himself and Kaitlyn.
After twenty minutes, he gave up. Either she was dead—an option he refused to consider—or she was unconscious.
Swearing under his breath, he began to pace the floor. Whether she was dead or alive, he would find her, and God help the man or woman who had taken her.
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