Forbidden Blood (Vampire Venators Romance Series) (2 page)

Amber’s gaze shot from the barrel of the gun to him. She stared at his mouth.

Fangs.

He grinned and it felt as though he was looking straight through her. Whispered voices filled her head, clashing with each other so she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She tried to focus on one of them but couldn’t. The clamour in her mind rose and a deep sense that she wasn’t alone washed through her. Someone else was in her head with her. The hooded man’s smile widened. Him. How? One of the voices rang out above the rest and her questions fell away, leaving her docile again. He knew something about her that she didn’t. Something important. She had to know too.

She took a step towards him and he was gone, leaving the street empty in front of her. Why? She went to walk after him and frowned when her arm lagged behind her, held fast by something. Her eyes drifted to her wrist and the hand tightly grasping it.

“Are you all right?” the silver-haired man said and her head suddenly felt lighter.

Her gaze ran up his left arm to his shoulder. A trail of blood stained his white shirt and she followed the drips and dashes downwards to the black holster around his shoulders. His gun was in it but not secured. If she made a lunge for it, would he reach it before her? Amber shook that thought away. This man had saved her. Why would she do such a thing to him? Because he was dangerous. She didn’t want to go with him. She wanted to find the man. The feeling ran deep in her blood, flowing through her veins, compelling her. She needed to find the man.

This Venator would be her downfall.

Amber shook her head again and the haze in her mind dissipated for long enough that she felt her normal self again. Her panic and fear returned full force, crashing over her. What was happening to her? She kept thinking about things she wasn’t familiar with, like Venators and Sources, and wanted to do things that went against her nature, like injuring someone.

The man held his bleeding ear with his right hand. There were pale tribal markings on it. They wove down over his wrist and under his white shirtsleeve. Those markings had glowed ethereally earlier. She couldn’t have imagined it.

“You need to come with me,” he said, and before she could take in what was happening, he dragged her to the white Audi R8 and pushed her into it on the passenger side.

He closed the door, picked up the knife and her handbag from the pavement, and rounded the car. Amber sat there, thoughtless and empty, her eyes fixed on the spot where the hooded man had been. She should have gone with him.

No. She shouldn’t have. She didn’t know what she was thinking anymore.

The car moved and she became gradually aware of the man next to her. Her gaze slid to him. He was handsome, his green eyes fixed on the road now, shadowed by a frown of concentration, and the messy finger-length strands of his silver hair brushed back out of his face. He didn’t look old enough to have such white hair. He seemed barely five years her senior.

Venator.

It echoed in her head, as though something inside her knew it applied to him even when she had never heard the word before tonight.

“What is your name?” His deep voice soothed her, easing away some of her tension even when she felt she should be on alert, or escaping.

Amber didn’t reply. Her eyes dropped to the gun tucked under his left arm when he clipped the leather strap over it, securing it in place. It unnerved her but not as much as the fact that she wanted to use it against him, or the fact that his arm had glowed blue and the other man had fangs. None of that made sense, even when she felt it did.

The man looked at her and she glanced up, meeting his gaze. The streetlights flashed on his face, stealing all colour and warmth from his eyes. They were so cold that she couldn’t tear hers away. She stared into them, chilled by the detached air that he emanated but fascinated by him at the same time. Was he as empty inside as his eyes? She had never met anyone who looked as hollow and emotionless as this man did. Something terrible must have happened to him to make him look this way.

She remembered the way his arm had glowed.

Inhuman.

Her head spun.

Venator.

She wanted to get away from him. Her priority was to escape, not fall under a spell.

They pulled to a halt at a set of traffic lights and her hand went straight for the door. She shoved it open and the man grabbed her, pulling her back against him. The door slammed shut without her touching it and the locks clunked into place. She elbowed the man in the ribs, struggled out of his grip and lunged for the door again, frantically tugging on the handle. It wouldn’t open. Her eyes darted over the moulded leather of the door. No way of unlocking it. The Venator would stop her before she could find the button on the dashboard that would unlock the doors. She spat out a curse. Never mind. If she couldn’t escape, she could at least taste her blood.

“You cannot leave. You are in too much danger out there.”

Amber stared down at the cut on her right palm. It had bled all over her trousers.

She had to lick the blood and taste it.

She raised her hand but the man caught her wrist.

“What happened?” He frowned at the cut.

Amber tried to get her hand back but his grip was vice tight. Interfering Venator. She gritted her teeth and twisted her arm. He didn’t let go. Her stomach turned when she saw the blood on her palm and her vision distorted. She stopped struggling and looked at the man. His expression was soft, silently reassuring, and the longer she stared at him, the calmer she felt, until the sense that she wasn’t in control of herself disappeared again.

Amber tried to remember what had happened to her hand but it slipped through her fingers every time she came close, as though she didn’t really want to recall it.

“He gave you his blood, didn’t he?”

That memory popped to the forefront of her mind and she nodded. The man had made her drink his blood. It had been disgusting and she could feel it inside her.

“Hold on.” He released her hand, put the car into gear and roared off the white line.

Amber did. She grabbed the edge of the seat with her left hand as they raced through the streets of London so fast they were a blur. She couldn’t take her eyes off the road and the cars as they swerved around them, barely missing each one. Her heart lodged in her throat, her right hand trembling where she held it out in front of her. What was happening? It felt as though she had slipped into some dreadful fantasy world and she wanted out.

He turned the car around a corner so sharply that the tyres screeched and she slammed against the door, and then they were going down a slope towards an underground garage. The car spun around in the brightly lit space, coming to a halt facing the exit, and the engine cut out. A grey shutter slowly rolled down, eclipsing the world outside.

Amber stared at it, still trying to catch up.

The man had given her blood, and then he had cut her. She needed to taste her blood before the Venator stopped her. She was about to lick her palm when the door beside her opened and he pulled her out of the car.

“Damned Venator!” She kneed him in the groin and ran for the garage door.

He reached it before her and stood in her path, his eyes darker and colder than ever. He glared at her and drew his gun.

“Let her go,” he whispered, voice strained.

She grinned, satisfied by the pain in his voice.

“No.” Amber tried to pass him.

“You do not want to leave, woman. You do not want to do as he bids.”

Amber stopped. “As who bids?”

The strange feeling inside her grew worse, something telling her to keep going and not listen to him. She had to get past the man and drink her blood. That was all that mattered now.

“Listen to my voice.” He put the gun away and stepped up to her.

The moment his hands touched her shoulders, Amber felt different. She stared into his eyes and her thoughts fell into better order, enough that she could recall things clearly again.

Her heart pounded.

“The man made me drink his blood… I saw him in that place with the gates and the disinfectant and then they were after me. He cut me.” She held her hand out and it trembled between them, fluttering in time with her heart. “I just want to go home. I want this nightmare to end. Please? I can’t take this. Please?”

The man stepped back, his eyes still fixed intently on her face, the frown not leaving his.

“The man will come for you.”

“Fangs,” she whispered and her eyes widened. Her heart missed a beat and then slammed painfully against her ribs. “He had fangs. He was going to drink my blood.”

“I will not hurt you. You must ignore your instincts and listen to me. I will not allow him to harm you. You will be safe here,” he said, so calmly and softly that the deep waves of fear surging through her eased to gentle ripples. “He will find you if you leave. I can protect you. I will not allow the man to harm you.”

Amber looked at the closed garage door and then back at him.

There was honesty in his green eyes and her options were limited. Either she stayed here with him, or she ventured outside where there were monsters. If she did that, and the man found her, she wouldn’t escape him a second time. He had fangs. He had been about to drink her blood.

Something inside her said that she would be fine outside, and that she wanted to find the hooded man again. She wanted him to taste her blood. Desired it more than anything. This man was lying to her.

No. Amber closed her eyes, battling the compulsion to leave, and then looked back into the silver-haired man’s eyes.

The other man had wanted to kill her and drink her blood. This man had saved her. He said he could protect her.

“I will bandage your hand and make you feel better if you come upstairs,” he said in a low voice, one that soothed her ears and quelled her fear. The desire to escape him drifted away, replaced by a need to remain.

“Will you tell me what’s happening to me? I feel strange.”

He held his hand out, pointing to his left. “If you come with me.”

Amber looked at the dark grey metal door far to her right across the empty garage and then back at the man. His gaze held hers, cold but honest, and she ignored the voice inside her that was screaming for her to leave and taste her blood.

She nodded and went with him.

CHAPTER 2

K
earn closed the door to his apartment behind them and locked it. It wouldn’t stop the man from entering if he wanted to reclaim the woman, but it would make her feel safer. He walked past her where she stood in the middle of the large white open plan room holding her black leather handbag and pointed towards the living area to his right beyond the modern fireplace that divided it from the study near the door. She followed him and stopped near the back of the long low black couch that faced the wide bank of windows, setting her bag down on the cushions. She stared out of the windows, her hazel eyes bright with fascination. He had grown bored of the view of London from his apartment a long time ago. He rarely looked out at the rooftops now.

He looked at her instead. She reached up and removed the band from her messy ponytail, freeing her long brown hair. It fell down in loose waves over her shoulders and blended into her black suit jacket. Its rich shade contrasted against her pale face. The colour was gone from her skin, the only visible sign of her ordeal. She placed the band around her wrist and then stood with her left hand clutching her right, the palm of that hand turned upwards, crimson staining it. She remained still and he frowned after a few minutes. Had she slipped into shock? He couldn’t sense it in her.

She seemed incredibly calm considering everything that had happened to her and her situation. A little too docile for his liking. He studied her. It wasn’t normal for a human to be so unafraid after everything she had experienced. He had expected her to put up more of a fight about remaining with him and coming up to his apartment.

The man had given his blood to her. She was under his influence. It would explain why she was so at ease and why not a trace of fear laced her scent. The man wasn’t afraid, so she wasn’t either.

Kearn kept his guard up and approached her. She wasn’t herself and wouldn’t be until her body had eradicated the man’s blood from her system. She had flitted between afraid and angry during the journey here and in the garage. The man was using his blood to control her.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He stripped off his holster and then his white shirt.

Her gaze moved to him. It roamed unabashed over his body. He headed back to the door and tossed the ruined white shirt onto the floor of the beech wood kitchen. When he turned around, the woman didn’t take her eyes off him. She continued to stare at his torso. He touched his ear and then frowned at the blood on his fingers. Without looking at the woman, he crossed the room to the bedroom door and opened it. He dropped the holster and his gun onto the deep brown duvet covering his double bed to his right and then flicked the light on. The dark earthy walls and low lighting in his bedroom soothed his tired eyes.

Kearn touched his ear again and walked straight through the gap between the foot of his bed and the built-in wardrobe, heading for the door across the room. He flinched when he turned the light on in the en-suite bathroom. He needed to put a dimmer one in at some point but it always slipped his mind. The white tiles bounced the light around, making it too bright for him. He looked into the large black-framed rectangular mirror that occupied the wall above the wide black sink cabinet in front of him. The cut had already started to heal but he still needed to help it along, if only to stop it from bleeding down another shirt.

He washed the blood off his neck and chest, watching the red swirl down the drain of the white oval sink. The cut began to bleed again. He took a small dark brown hand towel off the side of the black cabinet, dabbed his ear to dry it, and set it back down. Before his earlobe could bleed, he spat on his index and forefinger, and rubbed the saliva into the nick. It stung. The man hadn’t been aiming at the woman. He had wanted to use her distracting him as a chance to kill him.