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Authors: L.T. Kelly

Falling to Pieces (11 page)

BOOK: Falling to Pieces
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We hopped on the Harley; my appreciation of the cycle hadn’t waned overnight. Even though I was apprehensive about the reception I would receive and what had happened to my maker, the excitement of spending time on the cycle still ignited a blaze within me.

The ride back began to draw to a regretful end. We had reached the dense inner city where the historical buildings intermingled with the modern. I inspected them as we raced past, trying to ease my mind and formulate a plan to preserve my life and discover the truth simultaneously.

I sucked in a huge breath. Shockwaves rippled over me as I realised the leather seat of the cycle was falling away from me.

Everything moved in slow motion as I clutched Marc’s shoulders trying to drag him clear of the bike before he hit the ground. The speed he was going at, werewolf or not, would cause him severe injuries.

He shrieked as his right leg disappeared beneath the metal. I had managed to leap into a standing position holding him to me by the shoulders of his leather jacket.

I was a split second too late to prevent the bike from dragging down his calf as it spun away from us towards the dazzling lights of a car that was coming towards us.

The driver swerved to avoid the heavy cycle.

I clung to Marc’s lifeless body. His legs were splayed out on the ground in front of us. The right leg had taken the brunt of the cycle’s weight and oozed blood. I could make out the sickening white contrast of his bone protruding through the skin. The helmet on his head rested below my chin as I held him against me. My eyes were trained on the car that had stopped in front of us.

“Marc…Marc.” I shook him for a response with panic lacing my voice. Nothing. I rested him down gently on the blacktop. I could hear his rasping breath, his racing heartbeat, but his injury had obviously caused him to pass out.

“Please wake up, please wake up, we’re in trouble.”

I wanted to run but how could I leave him. The weight of him would slow me down and I’d draw too much attention to myself. He was a huge man and I was slight in comparison. Even the idle eye would balk at the sight.

I hadn’t even heard the sound of footsteps, but I gingerly took a glance over towards the vehicle. My vision filled with a pair of shapely legs. My gaze continued up towards the owner of the legs, my mouth hung open behind the visor as I grasped Marc’s arm, unwilling to let go of him.

My eyes reached her face; her crimson painted lips were pulled into a sneer.

Victoria.

“Look what you’ve done,” I rasped.

Her sneer grew as she reached down and pulled the helmet off my head and threw it up the street towards the mangled mass that had been the cycle.

I arranged my face so that the terrified expression was replaced with a blank one.

I heard the car door open behind Victoria’s looming figure. I refused to grant the wishes in my head, the ones that were telling me to run, run to a street with people on it, it wouldn’t be far. Instead I listened to my heart, my grip on Marc’s arm tightening.

Footsteps tapped rhythmically towards us, as if the feet couldn’t help but be timed to perfection. Victoria remained still, the sickening smile still stretched over her lips.

He took a place beside Victoria. I had to tilt my head right back to get a view of his face. He stood at least six-foot-four. His platinum blond hair hung down to his shoulders. His light green eyes twinkled like emeralds and he wore a sincere smile that looked strange given the circumstances.

“Teagan.” He clapped then rubbed his hands together. He’d exclaimed my name as though we were long lost friends but I’d never seen this vampire in my life. He had a presence that would be difficult to forget…ever.

“Who the fuck are you? Why have you done this?”

“You can come nicely darling, and we can talk. Or you can resist. The choice is entirely yours.”

The smile remained sincere, and he spoke as if we were merely having a friendly chat. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I’m not leaving him here.” I cocked my head towards Marc’s lifeless figure, his heartbeat had slowed down to a dull thud. “He needs to go to a hospital,” I said with a steely reserve.

My gaze flicked to Victoria and back to the male standing beside her. Obviously he was the one in control here. She stared up at him with her hand resting on her chest, her lips parted and eyes filled with adoration. It was pleasant to witness her vulnerability for a change.

As though he’d just noticed Marc lying injured beside me, he peered at him down the end of his nose. “Ah, yes,” he said, losing his smile and wrinkling his nose. He lifted a hand and made a gesture without turning his head. Within a second, a small wiry man stood beside the taller one. “Bruce will take care of it. Come along now,” he said, the smile reappearing as he extended his ice white hand towards me.

I hesitated for a moment and looked from Marc’s body to Bruce, desperately trying to decide if I trusted these people with my precious cargo. I gulped and glanced around the silent, empty back street. I didn’t see any choice given that I’d already experienced the wrath of Victoria. I didn’t stand a chance against three stronger, faster and older vampires.

I refused to take his hand but I rose from the ground, pushing my shoulders back and balling my fists. If I couldn’t be strong I wanted to at least give the impression I was.

The tall blonde turned in unison with Victoria, as if they were mirror images of one another. We all started towards the car with the exception of Bruce who hovered over my lover. I walked at a snail’s pace casting furtive glances back. I reached the open door of the limo as I caught Marc’s strangled cry. I got to him in a millisecond.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I said into his ear. The sight looked ridiculous, Marc’s huge frame draped over Bruce’s slender shoulder, his massive fists drumming into his back.

Marc ceased hitting. “What’s going on?” His voice was a strangled moan.

“They’re going to get your leg seen to.” I attempted to reassure him, noticing he was shaking violently.

The male’s bored sounding voice sliced through the air, “Go and get her, Victoria.”

By the end of uttering her name, she’d grabbed a fist of my ginger locks and pulled me backwards towards the car like a rough dog walker.

Bruce turned around to face me. Marc’s shattered leg dangled down his front releasing blobs of blood over his pristine white shirt. I gasped as a menacing sneer appeared on Bruce’s face.

I fought against Victoria’s iron grip to no avail. She slung me into the backseat of the vehicle and climbed in beside me, slamming the door shut. I was sandwiched between her and the blonde guy.

I shook violently, rage building from the pit of my stomach as I heard Marc’s groans as he was being thrown into the trunk.

I gave the blonde a wide-eyed look.

“Don’t worry, Teagan, we’ll take care of him.” His voice was tinged with sympathy as he ran his finger down my cheek.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whispered as the limo screeched away.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

I squeezed my eyes closed. My shoulders lifted at the sound of Marc’s fists pummelling the trunk.

“His family will kill you. You know that don’t you?” I glared into the blond man’s eyes.

I drew in a deep breath as the sounds coming from the trunk stopped. I guessed he’d either passed out again or decided his protests were useless and that he needed to preserve his strength for whatever was coming next.

The man’s tinkling laughter filled the limo. “The relationship between werewolves and vampires is, mmm—” he placed a finger against his lips and gazed at the upholstered ceiling for a moment before concluding his sentence, “—difficult.”

“Well, things aren’t difficult between Marc and I, so how about you just let us go?”

His laughter tinkled again and I bunched my shoulders up to ears. He had begun to grate on my nerves with his laughter at my non-comical comments.

He raised his icy long fingers to my face and clutched my chin. He leaned in closer to me so that his face hovered a couple of inches from mine.

Victoria flinched beside me.

He gazed into my eyes, his cherry coloured lips parted as his emerald green eyes flickered between my mouth and eyes.

Victoria’s sudden hiss led me to believe this man must be her maker, Bartholomew. I stifled a little smile realising how her maker’s evident attraction to me made her temper bubble.

“There are things about Marc Romano that would make your seemingly successful union shatter in an instant,” he whispered. I thought he was going to try to kiss me but he released my chin and turned to stare out of the window to indicate the conversation was over.


What the fuck does that mean
?’

I opened my mouth to speak my thought as the car stopped. I turned to peer out of the window on Victoria’s side of the car. She glared at me hatefully, her eyes bulging. I winked at her and allowed my mouth to quirk at one corner. Before I could blink her fingers were wrapped around my throat.

Bartholomew reached out and plucked her off me slamming her into the door. His expression remained smooth, as though he’d just picked a piece of lint off my jacket.

“She getting on your nerves, too?” I asked, cocking my head towards the snarling figure pressed against the leather interior of the door.

“Quite, my dear,” he replied giving me a curt nod, a smirk plastered across his sculpted mouth.

This seemed like the time to play along. Dear old Barty had obviously taken quite a shine to me and I wasn’t in the position not to take advantage of that.

He grasped my hand with affection. “We’re here. Come.”

He led me out on to the parking lot. Six other high-end model cars were grouped close to the limo. We were on some sort of industrial estate. Huge metal buildings surrounded the concrete we were standing on, weeds fought to show themselves through the cracks.

“Are you Bartholomew?” I glanced up at him as we walked towards a building in the far corner trying to keep my voice cheery and casual.

“I’m so sorry, Teagan.” He lifted the hand that he held to his lips leaving a kiss on my knuckles. “I forgot my manners. Yes, I’m Bartholomew.”

He pushed open the door and led me through. I looked back to notice Victoria and Bruce following behind us. The moonlight lit up Victoria’s icy stare, her firm gaze trained on Bartholomew’s hand entwined with mine.

“Why is Bruce following us in? What about Marc? You can’t leave him in the trunk,” I whispered, not wanting to push my luck.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let him die.”

Those words did nothing to dampen my fear. I wanted to snatch my hand away and rip the trio’s hearts out. The only thing stopping me was realising the impossibility of success.

He came to a standstill in the middle of the musty-scented metal structure. The warehouse stood empty except for the trap door that Bartholomew pulled up to expose a stairwell. He hadn’t let go of my hand; Victoria’s glare was piercing.

We descended the unlit stairway taking us deep below the building. We arrived in a cream carpeted corridor with five doors leading off. The doors gleamed in the dim light. I figured they were reinforced steel or something of that nature, something even a vampire would struggle to break through. I gulped. It appeared they’d be no escape.

“What is this place?” I craned my neck to look up into the huge vampire’s face, trying hard to wipe the fear away from my own in the process.

“It’s the place where your fate will be decided,” he said in a soft gravely tone, pushing the first door on the left open. He led me inside and closed the door behind him swiftly to deny access to the rest of the group.

A faint barrage of blows on the outer door fluttered in my ears. I’d noted that it was at least ten inches thick on the way through it, impossible to escape.

My breath quickened as I glanced around the room. The same thick cream carpet was laid in there, too. It was as large as a studio apartment. A huge black leather couch sat at one end of the room arranged in front of massive flat screen television. I stood a few metres from an intricately designed wrought-iron four-poster bed. Cream lace hung majestically around it; cream cushions with black swirls decorated the thick milky bedspread.

I could sense his body behind me as he helped himself to a handful of my hair. I closed my eyes willing myself to stop trembling.

“You have the most amazing colour hair, it’s like strands of gold.”

“You have the most beautiful cell,” I snapped in reply.

The annoying tinkling laughter filled my ears as his lips brushed my neck from behind me.

“This isn’t a cell, Teagan. It’s my room,”

“Oh,” I said quietly. Now I really did understand Victoria’s reaction.

He trailed his fingers over my shoulders and stroked my neck before he reached the zipper on my jacket. He tugged it down and then peeled the garment off me and threw it with accuracy onto the couch ten metres away. Just without the jacket I felt naked, exposed.

“What have I done wrong? What have I done that brings me here to have—as you put it—my fate decided?” I stood frozen to the spot, still quaking with fear as he dipped his head to my ear. His heavy breathing caressed my cheek before he nipped at my ear lobe. I cringed, willing my shot nerves to regain the strength to fight him off.

I whipped my head round at the rush of air from behind me. He sat on the bed patting a space beside him, his eyes drinking me in, filled with desire.

I gulped and balled my fists, just so I had something to grip. I knew I had no chance of winning, so I walked over and sat beside him, creating the widest gap possible.

He placed his plate-sized hand on my denim-clad thigh. “You have been having relations with a werewolf, and this is simply not allowed, Teagan.”

“Why?” My voice came out strangled as his hand smoothed up and down, his fingers almost at the apex before travelling back down to me knee. He kept his eyes on the movement of his hand.

“Because many centuries ago we came to an agreement. We agreed never to acknowledge each other’s existence, never to speak to each other. To live apart.” His voice projected as if he were speaking from a scripture. I feared he probably was.

“It’s uncommon for a vampire to want to associate with a werewolf. Not many even know about them due to the law forbidding us from discussing them.” He glanced around the room while I looked up at him.


Explains why Thomas didn’t tell me and also why I had no idea such a creature existed
.’

“You’ve had intercourse with him?” he barked, as if a jolt of anger had passed through him at the thought of Marc and I together. His hand started moving faster in a rhythm up and down burning through my skin. I nodded again.

I was thrown back on the bed, my eyes wide as his gigantic figure straddled me, pinning me against the bed with his hands holding my forearms back above my head, his nose pressed against mine. I whimpered as I glared at him, his breath tingling against my lips.

His glossy green eyes explored the terrified look that I knew must have been etched over my features.

He was male perfection personified. I could understand why Victoria was so captivated by him.

His dark blond eyebrows framed his sparkly eyes at sharp angles. His nose lay perfectly straight and his mouth was a sculpted rose bud, but I just wanted him to get off me. I had nothing but for contempt for him. Contempt intermingled with a truckload of fear.

“I want you, Teagan, but I won’t take you without consent. “He breathed before taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Would sex with you ensure my survival?” I’d done that plenty of times in my human life, why not now. I considered my options.

“The decision isn’t mine alone to make. Anyway, I want you to want me back, not just submit. “His eyebrows squished together and his lips pursed, as though I should have known that about him.

“I love Marc. He’s the
only
man I’ve ever wanted, sexually or otherwise. The only one,” I whispered, turning my gaze away from him as I swallowed hard and waited for his reaction to my bravado.

“But you know your sordid affair cannot continue. It’s the law and we must all live by it,” he rasped.

“So I should just take you instead? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Love doesn’t—”

A phone ringing bedside the bed interrupted our exchange. The pressure of his athletic body left mine as he moved at lightning speed to answer the call.

I sat up and perched on the edge of the bed.

“This had better be good,” he spoke into the receiver, his eyes never leaving me as they appeared to inspect every inch.

“Accept my apologies. I thought it would be Victoria. Yes, I have her in my chambers. Ok, I’ll bring her now.”

My body tensed and I held my breath. At least with Bartholomew I had a bit of power. I had no clue what I would face outside of this room. Panic began to attack my lungs. My chest heaved while I tried to catch a breath

“I hope they agree to spare you,” he said, reaching for my arm and pulling me to my feet before continuing, “so I have the chance to make you mine.”

I managed to prevent myself from snorting at his words as we walked to the unbreakable door. I took a deep breath and concentrated on slowing my breathing down, my lips forming an o shape as I steadily inhaled and exhaled.

He swung the heavy door open. I waited for another attack from Victoria, but the hallway was empty.

Bartholomew clutched the top of my arm as he led me down to the door facing us at the end of the hallway, all of a sudden deciding to treat me like a prisoner, perhaps for the benefit of those we were about to face.

Chatting ceased as the door opened and we stepped inside the room. The floor of the huge space was parquet. On the ivory painted walls hung massive paintings in beautiful bright colours, each one individually lit up providing the only lighting in the room. 

Maroon leather, high-back chairs were placed around a huge dark wood conference table. Wine bottles and decanters of blood were lined up down the centre of the table and each place setting had a long stemmed crystal glass in front, resting on a black leather coaster.

Bartholomew stepped forward and addressed the eight people that were seated—all of them staring at me.

“Good evening, Ladies and Gentleman.” He nodded towards me. “This is the child of Thomas, Teagan Lewis. Are we going to hear the evidence or go straight for the verdict?” A smile licked at his lips as he took a seat at the head of the table and looked up at me. I fidgeted, my eyes meeting each member of The Assembly, including Victoria.


Where is Thomas? He must be dead
.’ I experienced a sickening sinking feeling in my stomach. The loss of my maker made my body ache and my head spin. If they’d killed him they were surely going to kill me, too.

My attention to the group was taken away by a low, barely audible moaning coming from a darkened corner of the room. The scent of lilies and blood consumed me. I flashed across the room and threw myself over Marc’s body. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, and he’d lost a lot of blood.

“Can you hear me? Marc, can you hear me? I’m here, I’m right here.”

The group stood over me hissing, causing me to flinch and turn my face up to them. I snatched my glare from them, back down to Marc,
my
Marc,
my
lover,
my
friend.

His pulse sounded weak and his usually olive skin appeared pale. I glanced down at his injured leg, the bone still protruding through his open wound. I gritted my teeth, shaking uncontrollably, though this time it wasn’t from fear.

The grief of losing Thomas and then facing the crumpled figure of the man I loved dying on the floor in front of me raced through my veins burning and boiling until the volcano finally picked the moment to erupt, trying to rid me of the emotions that had built up inside me.

“You fucking animals,” I screamed as I turned my face up to them once again, still hunched down next to Marc’s broken body, refusing to leave his side.

BOOK: Falling to Pieces
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