Love Me to Death (Underveil) (10 page)

She shook her head. She was so strong. Stronger than most immortals he knew.

Darvaak rolled his eyes and stepped out of the elevator. “She won’t talk. She is a tool and nothing more. They used her to get to Elena. She has no value.”

“Where is Aleksandra?” Nikolai asked her.

She leaned against the metal wall and grinned. “In Fydor’s bed.”

Rage flared like a match had hit kerosene in his veins. Nikolai grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head back against the wall. “Liar!”

Elena cried out and moved away to the extent the cord would allow.
Shit.
He’d pulled her too close to the Slayer’s blood. He backed up several feet, and Elena scooted with him.

The woman laughed, eyes unfocused. “You idiot. She’s sacrificing herself to buy you more time. Just like your mother did.” A shudder passed through her. “Destroy the girl now before he kills Aleksandra. Before he kills us all…” Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slipped to the floor.

Aleksandra.

Nikolai’s breaths came in quick gulps. His mother had married Fydor to buy him time? Time for what?

She had to have been lying. He needed to return home. Now.

Chapter Nine

E
lena’s skin burned and itched. She reached up and scratched her collarbone for the billionth time while Nikolai scrubbed the woman’s blood from his face in Stefan’s bathroom sink. The
dead
woman’s blood. She shuddered.

He hadn’t said a word since the woman slumped in a heap on the concrete floor at his feet. He’d acted like he didn’t know her, but he certainly knew the woman she had mentioned: Aleksandra. That was the name of the doctor at the hospital—well, the woman pretending to be a doctor. The one who kissed him and called him Niki… His lover, obviously.

She rubbed her burning chest. Images of the dark-haired, supermodel-gorgeous woman clouded her brain. Compared to Aleksandra, Elena knew that she was exactly what he had called her repeatedly: weak and pathetic.

“Hey.” His wet, warm hand stilled hers. “What’s going on?”

She stopped scratching and dropped her hands. “Nothing.” But something
was
going on. She was upset because he preferred some Slayer woman to her. That should thrill her. Make her the happiest human—well, mostly human—on the planet. They’d get out of this cord, and she’d be free of this bossy, lying, miserable man.

But somehow that wasn’t as appealing as she’d like it to be. Something in her sought his approval. Longed to be with him. Wanted to help him… A freaking
sick
part, and it had to be tied to ingesting his blood.
No. Just, no.
She must rein in her hormones or libido or whatever this was until he removed the cord.

“What’s wrong with you? You keep scratching and rubbing your chest.”

Oh, that. Yeah.
There had been strange splotches on her skin. She’d barely glimpsed them before they’d gone down to interrogate the woman. “It’s nothing.”

He picked up a hand towel and dried his face. “We need to leave here as soon as possible. You should eat again first.”

“And we should find out which one of you is carrying the transmitter,” Stefan said from the door of the bathroom.

“Do you ever knock?” Nikolai asked.

“It’s my house, my rules.”

Nikolai picked up the shirt the tailor had left. “What transmitter?”

“The one that brought your people down on me. My affairs and location are all but invisible to the Underveil since my energy trail is different. Only you and one other even know where I live because I chose foolishly to allow it.” He held up an electronic device. “And we found this on one of the dead Slayer males in the parking garage. It appears to operate like a tracking device.”

Nikolai stilled partway through pulling the shirt up from where he had stepped into it. Like Elena’s, the shoulder over the arm with the cord buttoned, so it had to be pulled on from below, rather than over the head. “The vampires that attacked us had one, too.” He nodded to his discarded, blood-splattered pants still lying where he had abandoned them for his bath. He pulled the shirt up the rest of the way. “It’s in the back left pocket.”

Stefan eyed the pants in a heap on the floor, face placid. “I’ll take your word for it. The transmitter is most likely inside one of your cell phones.”

“Elena doesn’t have a phone with her. My phone is in the pants.”

“I recommend you allow me to dispose of it. I have several prepaid cell phones I use as what my assistant, Bridgette, likes to call burner phones when I don’t want to be tapped, recognized, or tracked.”

What on earth would he do that would be so underground as to need a phone like that? Elena resisted scratching, but pressed her palm to her chest to quell the burning.

Nikolai grabbed her wrist. Then, he reached up with his other hand and pulled the neckline of the shirt down several inches before she could react or knock his hands away. His eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

She almost screamed when she followed his gaze. Inky markings similar in style to his stretched across her chest. Tingles of dread tickled her spine, and she was slammed by an overwhelming urge to vomit. “You did this,” she said, jerking away from his grip.

“I had nothing to do with it.” Nikolai held his hands up in surrender.

“May I see?” Stefan’s touch was gentle and tentative, as opposed to Nikolai’s grab-and-yank style. She couldn’t help but glare at Nikolai while Stefan examined the skin just below her collarbone. Her captor was behind this somehow—he and his wacked-out Slayer blood. Maybe it would go away like the red in her eyes did… If only
he
would.

“It’s in the ancient language, just like your markings, Itzov,” Stefan said. “I’ve only ever seen them on you. Other Slayer markings are in Elven.”

Nikolai said nothing.

“Who marked you?” Stefan asked. “Very few speak or read the old tongue anymore. How came you to know the language of the elders?”

“I don’t. I don’t even know what my markings say exactly, but I’ve been told it’s the Prophecy of the Uniter.”

Stefan smiled. “So it seems.”

Nikolai crossed his arms over his wide chest. The T-shirt the tailor had modified hugged his muscles and made him look practically edible.
Crap!
Elena shook her head to clear out the hornies and replace them with common sense.

“Oh, and I suppose you’re fluent in the ancient language, Darvaak,” Nikolai said.

“I am. That and several hundred others, both human and otherworldly.” When there was no response from Nikolai, Stefan continued. “I’ve been reading your way-too-naked skin since you popped in here unannounced. You’re like a billboard; you can’t blame me. Although I’d never heard of this prophecy before, it’s proclaimed all over your body.”

Nikolai said nothing; he simply stared at Stefan.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what your markings mean exactly?” Stefan asked.

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

No?
Elena couldn’t believe it. No way was she was going to be kept in the dark because of some one-upsmanship pissing match between these guys. “I want to know what mine mean.”

Nikolai’s gold eyes narrowed. “We must go now. It’s critical.”

“So is this,” she said. “It’s critical to me, anyway.”

Stefan turned her to face the mirror and pulled the right side of the collar of her blouse down far enough to expose part of the markings. “The ancient language is written similarly to Egyptian hieroglyphics, with images representing items or concepts rather than letters of an alphabet. This”—he trailed his fingers over a shape that looked like a curved talon or blade—“is a symbol for the beings of earth. Humans, if you will.”

In the mirror, she watched Nikolai’s fists ball up.

Stefan then reached across and exposed the marking on the left side. “This is indicative of the creatures
not
of the earth. Those under the Veil.”

Elena stared at a curved marking similar to the one representing humans. It looked almost the same, except that where the human symbol had serrations on the inside of the curved shape. This one had jagged edges on the outside.

Nikolai shifted foot-to-foot, and for a moment, Elena thought he was going to make Stefan stop. Instead, he took a deep breath and lowered his eyes, “Please hurry.”

“And this last shape in the middle where the two symbols intersect is the glyph for light.” His eyes met Elena’s. “It sounds similar to your name. It’s pronounced E-lee-nee.”

Her father had always called her his little light. Her name even meant light in Romanian, her father’s native tongue.

“So, you see, the light joins the two together.” His eyes met Nikolai’s. “The light unites them, yes?”

“We’re leaving. Now.” Nikolai grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her into the living room. “Grab your suitcase,” he ordered, pointing to where it sat next to the sofa.

Screw him. She’d had enough of his ordering her around. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” She thought for a moment he was going to lose it, but the look in his eyes was fear, not anger. He wasn’t just afraid, he was terrified. He backed away a few steps, studying her, trembling. Oh crap. He was afraid of
her
.

N
ikolai shook his head to clear it. This wasn’t possible. It had to just be another pointer or manifestation of the prophecy. She could not possibly be…

No.

The Uniter would be a man, a strong one, capable of great deeds. According to the prophecy, the Uniter would dethrone tyrants and anoint kings. This woman couldn’t even sufficiently feed herself, much less defeat a tyrant.

“There’s more,” Darvaak said.

“There’s not.” Nikolai needed to gain control of the situation. He had to get away from here and find Aleksandra.

“What?” Elena said. “What more?”

Fuck.
He needed to make sure of things, lots of things before she heard any more of this craziness. First, though, he needed to talk to Aleksandra. “Nothing more. I have something urgent to do right now.”

She ripped her hand from his and pulled as far away as the cord would allow. “So do I.”

She defied him? No one defied a Slayer. Reflexively, he placed his hand on the handle the sword.

Her eyes didn’t even widen. No flinch. No fear. “Do it. Go ahead. I’ve got a death wish and a damned good reason to have one. Do you?”

After at least ten solid, lung-filling breaths, he relaxed. Reaching for his sword had only been instinct resulting from centuries of training. He couldn’t kill her. Not a chance. Not even if he were free of the cord.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought not.”

He didn’t dare look at the Time Folder. If he had a smug smirk on his face, Nikolai would be obliged to pound it off him, and then it would take even longer to get to Aleksi. “Tell her whatever you know so we can go.” He turned his gaze out the window. If Darvaak touched her again, he might lose control.

“There are symbols underneath the larger glyphs. They, like the ones I described, are similar to those on the Slayer. Not identical, though.”

Nikolai ground his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. So, she had the symbol for the Uniter on her. So what? She probably had part of the prophecy as well, just like he did. Most likely cast by the same conjurer to proclaim the coming of the man who would save both worlds and build a bridge between them. It meant nothing other than she truly wasn’t of the human world and he had been sorely remiss in thinking she was. Aleksi might die because he had not carried out the orders.

“The writing says, ‘From a warrior’s blood, I rise.’”

That’s not what
his
markings said. Not at all. His said that from a warrior’s blood, the Uniter shall rise. Not “I.” Nikolai met Darvaak’s eyes.

The Time Folder lifted an eyebrow. “I believe that answers why your uncle has such extreme interest in her, does it not?”

“No. It does not.” He reached out and pulled Elena to him. So close her body touched all the way down. “I appreciate your help, Darvaak. I will compensate you, of course.”

“Of course you will.” The Time Folder walked behind the sofa and around to the suitcase. “Are you going to your home?”

“Yes.”

He popped open the case and pulled out Elena’s parka. He slid the sleeve over her free arm, then ripped open the Velcro that would allow it to be secured over her other arm. “You are accustomed to fending only for yourself, Slayer. You must change your mindset. Anticipate her needs—like food for example.” He opened the small case wider to show Nikolai a stash of protein bars. “She will be of no use to you or any of us dead.”

And suddenly, Nikolai felt like a total prick. The Time Folder was right. He hadn’t taken her needs into account at all. It would be cold in his homeland. She was still weak and would need nourishment. It was time for him to pull his head out of his ass and start thinking clearly. Even if the markings meant nothing, this woman was in his care—at least for the time being.

Darvaak closed the suitcase and wrapped Elena’s fingers around the handle. “Despite misgivings on both of your parts, Itzov, you should consider turning her completely. Her odds of survival would increase dramatically.” He slapped Nikolai hard on the shoulder. “So would yours.” After moving several steps back, he bowed to Elena. “I’ve no doubt we will meet again. You are welcome in my home anytime. I wish you luck and wise choices, Elena Arcos.”

Enough of the sappy farewells. They were running low on time if he was going to make it before the sun rose over the Carpathian Mountains. Nikolai placed his hands on either side of Elena’s neck and began the chant that would invoke the transporting spell.