Found, a Vampire Romance (7 page)

The wolf who’d attacked Nancy spun and snapped his teeth. Blood stained his muzzle. Nancy’s blood.

The monster in Dorian raised its head. A roar left his throat. He wanted to tear the creature limb from torso, rip off its tail, and slam its body into the ground over and over until there was no sign of its existence left except a bloody fur-covered pulp.

Nancy staggered. Her hand went to her throat. She whimpered.

Then she fell.

The wolf was forgotten. Cameron was forgotten. All that existed for Dorian was Nancy. He sprinted to her.

“Dorian, don’t!” Cameron telling him not to do what Dorian had to do, not to do the one thing that could save her.

“Shut up, Cameron,” he growled. He scooped Nancy up from the dirt and held her to his chest. Then he ripped his own arm open and pressed the oozing vein to her mouth.

Not enough blood. Not fast enough. He tore into the vein again, opened it more.

His blood, thick like motor oil, bubbled to the surface. He pressed his arm to Nancy’s lips and did something he’d never done before. He prayed.

If whatever powers existed could save Nancy, he’d gladly give up his own life. He’d gladly take the punishment he knew even now Cameron was thinking he deserved.

Dorian didn’t care. Nothing mattered.

Nothing but Nancy.

Once again, Cameron approached and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let her go, Dorian.”

“No.” The word was rough, harsh.

“I can’t let you—”

“What? Save her? Why not?” He didn’t look at his brother. He couldn’t. His anger at the idea he should let Nancy die was too great. He couldn’t let it overcome him, not while there was still hope of saving her.

“You’ve given her blood before. I can tell it, and now, as much blood as she has lost, as much as you are giving her... You know what she will become.”

“A vampire? Is what we are so distasteful, Cameron? Is death better?”

Nancy’s eyes fluttered. Hope blossomed in Dorian’s chest. He closed his eyes. Then, squeezing Nancy tightly, he spoke again. “Kill me, Cameron. I don’t care, but don’t ask me to kill her.”

Then he shut his brother out, shut everything out except the woman in his arms.

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered again. Even more slowly, they opened. Her gaze was unfocused and confused. Dorian gathered her closer and pressed his face into her hair.

“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

Her hand rose, and her fingers trailed down his cheek. “You saved me, again.”

“Forever. I will save you forever.”

Behind him, Cameron moved. Still holding Nancy, Dorian sprang to his feet.

The stake, still stained with Cameron’s blood, was back in Cameron’s hand.

“It’s done,” Cameron muttered.

Dorian nodded. It was done. Nancy was no longer human. He had, in Cameron’s mind, done the unthinkable. He had turned her.

Cameron raised the stake, and Dorian stood his ground. He’d made a deal— his life for Nancy’s. Cameron wouldn’t hurt her; he would protect her. He wouldn’t blame Nancy for what he saw as Dorian’s misdeed.

From behind Cameron, there was a growl.

The werewolf Dorian had taken down earlier leapt onto his brother’s back. His teeth sank into Cameron’s shoulder.

Cameron didn’t pause. He spun and, in one swirl of movement, drove the stake into the creature’s heart.

The wolf fell lifeless to the ground.

The brothers stood silent, staring at the dead were. When Cameron looked up, his face was still contorted, still held in the mask every vampire took on when the bloodlust hit.

Dorian braced himself for Cameron’s attack, his mind moving, thinking of how he would lower Nancy and face his brother at the same time.

But Cameron didn’t move. He stared at Dorian, then shifted his gaze to Nancy. She moaned. 

Dorian brushed hair from her face.

With a curse, Cameron tossed the stake into the brush. “The other weres escaped, including the one who...” He nodded at Nancy. “If we’re monsters, they’re worse. They’ll have to be stopped.” He turned and started striding away.

Dorian knew he should just let his brother leave, but he couldn’t. “Where are you going?”

Cameron paused but didn’t turn back. “To let someone know I kept my promise. To see if she…” He shook his head and began moving again, his legs eating up the ground with long, purposeful strides. He stopped again, looking over his shoulder this time. The mask was gone. He was back to the controlled, perfect Cameron Dorian knew best.

“When you’re settled, when she’s settled, come find me. This...” He waved his hand toward the dead were. “Is my concern too.” Then without waiting for a response, he left.

Nancy placed her hand on Dorian’s chest. He stared into her eyes, knowing he had to tell her what he had done, what he had done to her.

She ran her thumb over his lip. “Is night school in my future?”

Wary, he nodded.

“How about you? Are you in my future too?”

He hesitated. They were tied together now, but he could change that. He could transfer the maker tie to someone else. It wouldn’t be easy, not for Dorian. But if Nancy hated him for what he’d done to her, if she couldn’t forgive him, he could do it. He
would
do it. “I could ask Cameron—”

She shook her head and placed her finger over both of his lips, telling him to be quiet. “I’m not interested in Cameron. I’m interested in you. Are you in my future?”

He nodded.

She leaned forward until her lips brushed his. “I’ve always been a bit of a night owl.”

Then she kissed him, and, weak with relief, he kissed her back.

He didn’t know where they went from here. Didn’t know how to help a new vampire accept and deal with all the changes that were about to come her way. He didn’t know how to love or be loved, but with Nancy by his side, he knew he would learn. No, more than that, he would thrive.

They would thrive— together.

-o0o-

Claimed, 3rd in the Lost Series, available now.

Sample from One Soul to Share

by Lori Devoti

Chapter One

The bar was dirtier and darker than any dive Nolan Moore had ever entered, even on a dare. Smoke clouded the air, shrouding the bar’s patrons and decor, but Nolan could smell the humans, each and every one, and hear them…hear the beat of each of their hearts and the whoosh of every breath as it exited their lungs.

His nostrils flared, and his hands fisted. He didn’t want to know that the man on his right, drinking beer from a chipped glass mug, had a heart valve that was close to failing. He didn’t want to know that the woman that man was standing close to had slept with someone other than the man, only hours earlier.

But, damn his vampire senses, he did.

The man with the damaged valve moved his hand to the woman’s ass and whispered in her ear. She giggled and rubbed against him.

Nolan, teeth grinding together, turned away and stalked deeper into the stink, heat, and sound until he wanted to spin in circles and growl and become the monster his family already thought he’d become.

“Stranger.” A man standing behind the bar, a short, grizzled type with weathered skin and battered features, laid a revolver onto the wooden bar in front of Nolan. On the back of the man’s hand was a tattoo of an eye—the evil eye. Nolan glanced at it, unimpressed.

His fingers curling around the gun’s butt, the bartender asked, “What or who are you looking for?”

Straight to business, which suited Nolan fine. The sooner he was out of the stifling stench of the bar, the better.

“I need a guide, one that knows the sea. I heard this was the place to come.”

The bartender’s index finger twitched, less than a flicker of movement, but the vampire didn’t miss the nervous tic.

The man replied, “You’re feet from the docks. Lots know the sea here. Some place in particular you’re looking to find?”

“The hag.” Not a place, but a person… or being. Nolan wasn’t sure what the sea hag was, and he didn’t care. His only concern was that the stories were true and she had what he needed.

The bartender’s fingers closed tighter around the gun’s butt. “You have business with her?”

“I wouldn’t need a guide to find her if I didn’t.” Nolan leaned closer, meeting the man’s gaze.

The wall behind the bar was covered with objects Nolan recognized as attempts to ward off evil. But considering they’d done nothing to stop him from entering the place, the effort was wasted.

“There’s… someone who might help.” The man raised one bushy brow and slid his hand forward.

Nolan dropped two bills onto the man’s palm and waited.

The bartender slid his fingers over the bills, apparently checking their validity, then slipped them into his pocket.

“Talk to the mermaid. She’s been coming in for months. Rumor has it she’s planning a visit to the hag herself and looking for a companion.”

“Mermaid? How did she come by that name?” Nolan needed a guide, one tough enough to weather whatever journey lay before him. He didn’t need a female looking for help of her own.

“Not a name. It’s her… breed.”

“Breed?” Surely the bartender didn’t believe whoever this female was that she was truly a mermaid. Mermaids were myths like dragons and Pegasus and—Nolan flicked his tongue over one canine—vampires. He growled. “Where can I find her?”

“She was in the back earlier. Sitting alone. Can’t miss her.” The bartender straightened his arms, ready to push himself away from the bar, but then apparently thought better of it. He reached out and grabbed Nolan by the arm. His fingers digging into Nolan’s bicep, he whispered, “You ain’t the first one what went with her. She takes ’em to the docks, and they never come back.”

Nolan stared down at the man’s fingers. The bartender loosened his hold and stepped back as if burned, but Nolan wasn’t done with him. He leaned over the bar. “She’s taken others to the hag?” He hadn’t heard of anyone successfully making it to wherever the sea hag called home, or if they had, they’d never returned to share their stories.

The bartender shook his head, his eyes wide now and worried. “Don’t think so. They weren’t gone that long. She’s like the rest of her kind but with legs. She lures men out to the water and pulls them under… from there…?” His voice dropped. “There’s no coming back.”

o0o

Sarina Neri crossed her legs at the ankle and stared toward the front of the bar. Someone new had entered, someone different from the worn-out men who usually stumbled into the place. Maybe, finally, her search was over. Maybe, finally, she would find a man capable of passing the sea hag’s tests.

He was talking with the bartender and, Sarina could tell, hearing tales of her dangers. The superstitious man’s gossip didn’t worry her.

No man could resist the lure of a nixie if she turned her attention his way.

After taking a drink of her beer, she uncrossed her ankles and placed her bare feet onto the filthy bar floor. She was preparing to stand, to search out this new man, when she saw him crossing the room toward her.

She smiled. This one was coming to her.

As he approached, she studied him, looking for some sign that he was different from the others. She’d tried eight so far, each younger and, from outward appearance, stronger than the last, but none had survived her test. None had lasted the quarter of an hour Sarina considered the minimum she would need to trick the sea hag into thinking she had brought the old goddess what she demanded—a man who could live out his life beside the sea hag under the sea.

This man was tall, with broad shoulders that tapered to an athletic waist. Trim and fit—neither signs he possessed the talent Sarina needed. He was handsome too, with rugged features and a cleft in his chin. The hag, like all sea beings, appreciated beauty. So, his looks were a plus, but neither that nor the confident way he prowled forward were enough.

He had to be able to stay alive in the sea hag’s home long enough for Sarina to swim away with the soul.

As he moved closer, Sarina spun in her seat to face him. “Are you looking for me?”

He paused, surprise registering on his face. Like the others, he’d probably taken her soft features and feminine form as some sign she would be submissive, an easy target for whatever caused him to search her out.