Love Me to Death (Underveil) (6 page)

While she caught her breath, Nikolai watched the blue and silver threads of their souls dance along the cord. What a cruel trick of fate that they were bonded. If only there were a way to release himself from her and release her from her execution. He must find a way.

She dropped to her knees at his feet. “Please. Please let me go. I’m not what you think I am. I’m just a human trying to make a living and get by.”

He wished he could set her free, but severing the cord would mean death for them both. “No. And you are not human. Not entirely. You see under the Veil. I think you will become something else with the right trigger.”

She slumped back onto her heels. “Like what?”

He pulled a dagger out of his boot, and she scooted as far away as the cord would allow. He pricked his thumb with the tip, and her eyes grew large, and then her pupils dilated to the point where they filled her irises completely. She never took her eyes off of the drop of blood balanced on the pad of his thumb as he rose and approached her. He wiped it on her lower lip and stepped back. She resisted at first, but eventually, darted her tongue across it. He pulled her to her feet to look at her herself in the mirror. “Like that.”

Elena gasped at her reflection. Her eyes were red. Only for a moment, but still red—just like the guy who’d shot her in the convenience store.
Shit.
The bathroom walls closed in a bit. Surely this wasn’t happening.

Wait. Nikolai said her dad had been a vampire. His eyes were never red. Maybe it was the freakish death angel blood that did it. Maybe it would make any human’s eyes red.

“It’s a trick,” she said. “It’s your wacked-out blood that did that, not my physical composition.”

“No.” He almost looked sad. “No trick. Biology and genetics. Your father was a vampire. So are you.”

“Dad’s eyes were brown.”

“He wore lenses in your world. They were blood red at court.”

“At court?”

“Your dad was a powerful man. He was the ambassador and ruler of the vampire nation until its collapse. He lived dual lives because he had a human to protect.”

“My mom.”

“Yes. A foolish move on his part. And in the end, he couldn’t protect her anyway. Like you, she was frail and weak. Her humanity was his undoing.”

Nothing about her mother had been her father’s undoing. They adored each other. “He loved her. Some things are worth dying for.”

“Many things are worth dying for. Love is not among them. Love is a fabrication of humans to glamorize and rationalize desire.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not. Lust and desire alone drive us, regardless of species. The lust for power…” He ran his hands down her arms, and she trembled. A smile pulled his lips as he placed them next to her ear. “The lust for pleasure…” His breath tickled as his wicked hands moved to her waist and slowly traveled up her sides, around the swell of her breasts, and rested on her shoulders, leaving her a trembling mess. “Pure lust and desire. Nothing else. Love does not exist.”

Elena struggled to control her ragged breaths and slow her misfiring heart. His simple touch made her lose control. She was on fire, and it made no sense. None at all. She opened her eyes and met his in the mirror.

He leaned down to her ear again. “Is what you are feeling right now love?”

“Of course not.” She was relieved her voice came out solid and not breathy.

“Most humans would confuse what you are feeling with that tender, fictitious emotion.” He bit her earlobe, and she swayed a bit. His grip on her shoulders tightened. “What exactly are you feeling, Elena Arcos?”

It was bad enough he was going to kill her. Torturing her was beyond sporting. She straightened and lifted her chin, meeting his eyes directly in the mirror. “Lust. Pure, unadulterated lust.”

He grinned.

“But not lust for you. Lust for a shower, you asshole. Take your hands off of me.”

His grip on her shoulders tightened.

A spike of fear shot through her. Perhaps being a bitch wasn’t the way to go. “Get your hands off of me,
please.
”

He chuckled and lifted his hands. He knew. He knew what he did to her, and it was infuriating.

They stared at each other in the mirror a long time. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. The top of her
blood-encrusted
head. Yuck. She shuddered and shot a longing look at the shower. He pulled the curtain aside and gestured for her to enter.

“By all means. Slake your lust, vampire.”

To her surprise, he didn’t try to get in with her. He stayed outside the curtain like a gentleman. Ha! A gentleman executioner. She shampooed for a second time, reveling in the steam and scent of the hotel soaps. It felt so good she wanted to moan, but knew that would be a mistake. She’d seen that look before. He may hate her, but he wanted her. Her boss got that look every freaking day. She dropped the empty shampoo bottle with a bang and reached for the conditioner. The cord checked her an inch or so short of it.

“I need some slack, please,” she said. His hand appeared around the curtain, and she stilled. It was so large. She shook her head and picked up the conditioner. “Thanks. I got it.” The hand disappeared. She slicked conditioner through her hair, rinsed, and turned the water off. Before she could ask, a towel appeared from around the curtain. “Um, thanks.”

What now?
It was going to be awkward getting dressed while tied to him. Before she even stepped out, though, he climbed in fully naked except for his vest, which he couldn’t take off because of the cord. Naked and wow—glad to be there.
Oh God.
She spun around, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out his deep chuckle.

“I’m lusting for a shower as well,” he said. “Please hold this.”

To her relief, he nudged his vest into her hand. He’d slid if off, but it was restricted by the cord, so he’d shoved it across to her. She shrugged it on, inside out, and then scurried out of the tub before he asked her to hold something else.

Elena tried to put on her dress while he showered, but with her on the outside of the tub and the cord only ten or so feet long, she was jerked by the wrist every time he raised his long arms. It was almost like he was doing it intentionally. Then, a rhythmic
tug, tug, tug, tug
on the cord began, and he moaned.

No! No, no, no.
This was not happening. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, refusing to let her mind go there. She’d seen way too much when he stepped in the tub. Dang. Way too much and there was a lot to see. And he was…

Tug, tug, tug, tug, tug.

Crap. She slumped to the floor and waited…and waited. She leaned her head back against the wall, trying to block out the delicious smell of leather and spice coming from his vest wrapped around her. Oh, come on. How long could one guy…

N
ikolai stepped from the shower expecting to find the vampire clean, frustrated, and needy. Huddled on the bathroom floor, she leaned against the tub, sound asleep. It made sense, he supposed. She had died today, after all.

Perhaps he should have left her dead in the convenience store. At least her end would have been quick and peaceful. Who knew what would happen to her now, especially if his uncle Fydor got his hands on her.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

No. Letting her die would have been wrong. Fate had stepped in, he was sure of it. There was more to this girl than met the eye. Not human, not immortal, somehow she balanced on the sharp, dangerous edge between worlds.

He laid her down in the center of the bed and brushed the hair from her face. Who was she really? The daughter of his enemy, but she was an enemy to no one. Still, she had power in her. He felt it.

He had to come up with a plan. The first thing he needed to do was get the cord removed. The only way he knew to do that was to go to its place of origin, which was dangerous business not only for a human, but for a Slayer as well. The truce between the light elves and his people was tenuous at best and relied solely on his successful retrieval of the Uniter.

But first things first. Before he could accomplish anything, especially a complicated teleport, he needed rest.

Chapter Five

E
lena woke in a tangle of arms and legs. Large ones. Not moving or even breathing, she shuffled through her memories and sorted out where she was and whose legs she was playing pretzel with. Ah. The death angel. The last thing she remembered was waiting for him to finish…yeah,
that
.

Okay, so now what? She was still in her dress and other than a headache and extreme hunger; she felt no worse for wear. So far, so good. The light peeking around the hotel blackout curtains indicated it was well past sunrise.

Like a human game of Pixie Sticks, she carefully slid an arm free, then a leg. But before she could free her other arm, Nikolai shifted position and trapped her all over again, pulling her in so close she could hardly breathe. She sighed and relaxed. Even if she had gotten loose from his grip, she was still bound to him by that damned cord.

Somewhere down the hall, the elevator dinged.

He mumbled something in another language and pushed against her, causing her to gasp. He was hard. And large. And so there. Thank goodness she had her dress on, or even in his sleep, this was a done deal.

Men’s voices rumbled in the hallway, and the hair on the back of her neck prickled.

“Hey,” she said. Maybe waking him while he was like this wasn’t a good idea. But he
always
seemed to be like this and something in her had warning bells going off. “Wake up.”

More mumbling in that foreign language. Then a crash from outside.

As if electrocuted, Nikolai grabbed the sword next to him and sat bolt upright in bed.

“What is it?” she whispered.

He covered her mouth.

Another crash and loud voices speaking a language she couldn’t understand from the hallway.

“They know we’re here. We must leave now.” Sword still in hand, he pulled her by the wrist to the bathroom where he grabbed his pants from the floor. “Help me,” he said, stepping into the jeans. She grabbed the waistband and pulled while he jerked up on the other side. Not bothering to zip up, he stepped into his boots just as the door to the room crashed in. He pushed her behind him and bolted into the main room, swinging wide with the sword.

There were three of them. All with red eyes like the guy from the shooting. Vampires. They hissed like snakes and scattered to avoid the swing of his sword.

“Hunted by my own people and now fucking parasites?” Nikolai growled. “Who sent you?”

The tallest one answered. “Give us the woman.”

Nikolai backed up several steps, putting Elena within reach of her suitcase. “How did you find me?”

The three vampires closed in.

She knew he was about to zap them out of there. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and gripped it tight. The cash could be useful, especially if she could escape from Nikolai.

The vampires were only ten or so feet away now, just out of blade-striking distance, but they were eyeing one another as if they had a plan. Right when one reached for his waist, Nikolai swung. Elena closed her eyes. There was a grunt, then a crunch, and then a thud.

“Who’s next?” Nikolai said.

She opened her eyes and screamed when her eyes met the red ones staring up at her from the severed head on the floor. Blood oozed out, and she found herself no longer freaked, but transfixed, fighting the urge to run her fingers through the thick, crimson puddle. Hell, she wanted to
roll
in it. She shuddered and held tight to the suitcase. Holy shit. He had been right. She was turning into one of them.

“I’ll ask again, and if you tell me, I’ll spare you.” Nikolai shot a quick glance over his shoulder at her and nodded when he saw she still clutched the luggage. He took a step toward the two remaining vampires, who didn’t look as cocky as they had before their buddy’s head had been lopped off. “Who sent you and how did you find me?”

Elena peeked around Nikolai’s considerable mass and studied the vampires. She couldn’t allow herself to become one of those things.

“Time’s up.” He lifted the sword over his head, and before the vampires could sufficiently react, he came down on one, hitting it in the shoulder, the blade cutting its torso almost in two vertically. Blood splattered out, nailing Nikolai all over and Elena in the face and arm. Blood. It was everywhere, and her body buzzed with need and hunger.

No! She would not give in to this. She would
not
. She let go of the suitcase long enough to wipe her face off on the bottom of her skirt.

“And then there was one,” Nikolai said. The last vampire backed toward the door. “No you don’t. Talk or die.”

The man no sooner than reached for the door than Nikolai lunged, dragging Elena with him, stabbing his sword through the vampire’s neck, skewering him to the door.

“Oh my God,” she said, covering her mouth. There was blood on her hand. The metallic, salty smell filled her nose. Irresistible. She could almost taste it. She
wanted
to taste it. “Oh my God,” she said again, running toward the bathroom only to be jerked to a stop by the cord on her wrist. “Help me. Please help me. Not this… Not them.”

I
t was painful for Nikolai to watch her battle. How horrible it must have been for her to have a soul in opposition to her reality.

He moved near her so she could make it into the bathroom in time to throw up, which yielded nothing but dry heaves. She had no food in her at all.

“Get it off me,” she screamed.

She turned on the shower full force and stepped in, clothes and all—even his vest. She grabbed the bar of soap and frantically scrubbed her face, arms, and even the front of her dress. Then she ripped the dress from under his vest and off her body in one hard tug. “Get it off,” she cried, this time more a whimper than a scream.

A foreign part of Nikolai wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. To tell her it was okay, but it wasn’t okay. She was simply becoming aware of what she was, and even if she didn’t know it yet, it was inevitable. Like a fatal cancer, her vampirism lurked, waiting for the opportunity to consume her.

She slumped down into the tub, water still pounding down on her. She tucked her knees in and rocked. He took the hand towel from the sink and held it under the spray, then wiped his face and chest free of blood. After rinsing it in the sink, he wiped his arms down as well. There was no time for the luxury of a shower.

The blue waves in the cord pulsed. Even knowing what she was, his soul still reached for her. He had to end this.

“We must go now,” he said, turning the water in the shower off. He reached into the holster in his boot and pulled out his dagger to cut the leather vest from her body, leaving her completely bare. He’d never seen anything quite like her before. Her skin and form, though undersized, were flawless. Perfect, actually. Pale, delicate, and feminine.

He put his knife back in its holster. Fate was cruel. He had to find a way to release them from the cord. He understood deep down that she would have to be destroyed before she succumbed to her true nature, but he also knew he would never be able to do it himself.

First things first.
He wrapped her frail, trembling body in a towel and led her back to the main room. “We need to search the bodies to see if they have any clues as to who sent them or how they found us. Vampires cannot track energy trails.”

Her eyes were unfocused and trained only on the gyrations of color in the cord binding the two of them. She was probably in shock. Witnessing decapitations was bad enough, but combined with the realization she was genetically destined to become evil must have been too much for her frail human mind.

Nikolai searched the headless body first. Nothing. Not even a cell phone. Only the gun he had been reaching for when Nikolai struck. The vampire he had split almost in two yielded the same result. When he plundered the pockets of the one spiked to the door, however, he found a strange device—an electronic component of some kind.

“What do you make of this?” he asked Elena.

No response. She might have actually snapped. Trembling, she watched the cord, clutching the towel to her, eyes vacant.

He shoved the device into his back pocket and yanked his sword from the door, and the guy attached to it slumped to the floor. He wiped the blood off the blade onto the bedspread and grabbed the sheath from the bed and strapped it on, then slid his dagger in his boot. He needed to get them out before there were any more surprises.

He guided Elena to her suitcase and pulled the handle out. After wrapping her fingers around it, he placed his hands on either side of her neck. Her numbness was okay at this point. He knew exactly where they needed to go, and only he could get them there. “Don’t let go of the suitcase,” he said. “We might need the money, and you will need clothes. Are you ready?

She didn’t respond.

If only things were different. If only there were a way to save her from her destiny. Perhaps the elves would have a solution.

“Stay with me now. Gregor Arcos’s daughter does not just check out or give up.”

But she had given up. When the pressure of teleportation receded, she simply stood next to him like a mannequin, unblinking in the dappled sunlight twinkling though the forest canopy.

“Descendant of Azrael, your presence in our domain is forbidden. What brings you here?” The voice was lovely, almost like music, but it grated on Nikolai like the scream of a banshee.

He kept his eyes lowered, knowing the light elf was too bright to look at directly. “I seek your help and advice.”

“You brought a human. The penalty is death. You know that.”

“Not human entirely, and I did not actually enter your forest. I stand at the edge. Again, please hear me. I beg your help.”

Nikolai lifted his eyes enough to see the golden, shimmering hem of a garment swirling around a woman’s bare feet. The fabric glimmered, and light undulated from within the fibers, just like the cord tying him to Elena.

“Reveal your request before I carry out justice on this spot.”

“We are bound by a cord of your people’s creation. I need to untie this woman—to set her free. How do I do this without killing us both?”

The creature’s amused laughter held no mirth. With smooth strides, she approached, bringing a wave of floral scent with her. Elena’s eyes remained closed as the elf lifted her chin.

“She has power,” the woman said.

“I know,” he answered.

“What is she?”

“I have no idea.”

She released Elena’s chin. “Her aura is strong. Far brighter than any creature I’ve seen outside the elven world, yet her flesh is human.” The woman ran her fingers over Elena’s collarbone above the towel, and she shivered. “And she’s starving. Truly starving to death.”

“How do I help her?” Nikolai asked.

“Isn’t your job to destroy? To kill? To eliminate?” Hatred dripped from the elf’s tone.

“I… Yes.” He took a deep breath. “Just tell me how to break the cord without killing her.”

The shimmering creature waited a long time before answering. “I cannot help you. That cord was forged by Aksel. Only he can untie it before its time.”

“Where do I find this Aksel?”

A sigh that sounded like the ocean wind preceded her words. “If only we knew. He was cursed centuries ago and has not been seen since.”

“Cursed by whom?”

“Our troubles are not your concern.”

A growl entered his tone. “Well, it’s my trouble, too. I need the guy.”

“You are lucky I don’t kill you on the spot, Slayer, for bringing a human to our forest. We gave your people use of our cords in exchange for finding the Uniter to put an end to this war. As with all in the natural order, using something for a purpose other than its intended one is risky and foolish. If you are too dense to see the answer, I cannot help you.”

Leaves from the forest floor whirled and fluttered against the bare skin on Nikolai’s arms, neck, and face as the elf retreated back into the woods, leaving no trace except her sweet, floral scent.

He dropped Elena’s hand and glared at the cord. Fucking elves. Stuck-up, worthless creatures. Intended purpose? Well, what the hell was the thing intended for? It bound souls, for fuck’s sake.

It was bad enough being bound to a vampire, but now she was catatonic. Perfect. A vegetable vampire.

If only he hadn’t tied himself to her…
That’s it!
He needed to go back before it happened and take a different course. He needed a Time Folder. He needed Stefan Darvaak. But Darvaak hated him. Hell, everybody hated him for that matter. It wasn’t him in particular—it was what he was. Nobody loved the physical embodiment of death. Not even an immortal like a Time Folder, who literally could not be slain by any outside means.

Nikolai’s job had never bothered him before. Ridding both planes of evil immortals had always seemed like a noble cause. Now, it felt anything but noble.