Love Me to Death (Underveil) (9 page)

Chapter Eight

E
lena stared into Margarita’s blood-red eyes and nearly fainted. Dear God. All the awful things she’d said about vampires. “I’m…” Her breath caught in her throat. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry… I—”

Margarita held her hand up. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Our species has its bad apples, just like humans—because all vampires were humans first.” The woman’s red eyes bored into Elena. “You don’t have to choose violence. I don’t. Your father didn’t.”

Her breath caught. “You knew him?”

Sliding her glasses back on, the vampire shook her head. “No. I know
of
him. Everyone does. Things were better when he was alive.”

No kidding
. Elena’s rib cage felt like it would shatter if she so much as took a breath. She had been very young when he died, but still, she missed him so much—even though what she remembered about him seemed distorted now that she knew what he had really been.

Margarita returned to her sewing while reality hovered just out of Elena’s reach. She stared down at the cord. She was turning into a vampire, and Nikolai couldn’t kill her. And that, coupled with the fact all vampires weren’t evil as he had portrayed them to be, certainly put a new twist on their relationship. Had everything he told her been a lie?

She stared at Stefan, who studied her with his eerie, pale eyes, and then at Nikolai. He’d been no more than ten feet from her for the last two days, but she felt like they were miles away from each other. Even when he’d had his mouth and hands on her, they’d been worlds apart.

She sat again and turned back to Stefan. “Please find a way to free me from this—from
him
.”

“I certainly appreciate your desire, but I can see no way that I can be of help other than seeing you clothed and fed. That cord is elven-forged. Only the artisan can break it without killing you. It’s too late for me to help you.”

“The elf who made it isn’t available. And it’s not too late,” Nikolai said. “You can go back in time before I tied it on her…us.” The desperation in his voice matched her own. “Please,” he continued. “Fold time to before I bound her and take the cord away. I know you can do this.”

The tailor shuffled back into the room and gathered his supplies. He moved so strangely, and his eyes were brown, not red. If Margarita was a vampire, what was he, Elena wondered. He took the shirt from Margarita and handed it to Stefan, not even looking at Elena or Nikolai.

“Send a bill,” Stefan said, and the man bowed and backed away, then scurried straight for the door, followed by his assistant carrying her sewing box. Stefan rose and placed his hand on a black pad by the door, and it clicked and swung open.

Margarita paused just inside the door and removed her glasses. “Your father believed that vampires are not unfortunate victims of fate. He told us that we are creators of our own destiny. His words became our motto: ‘With wise choices, we are destined for greatness, with poor choices, oblivion.’” Her red eyes never wavered from Elena’s, as if trying to memorize her. “My people are close to complete oblivion. Make wise choices, Elena Arcos.”

She left, and all of them stared at the closed door for what felt like forever.

“Wow,” Elena said, finally.

Stefan leaned back against the door. “Nothing like a lighthearted farewell.”

Nikolai scooted to the edge of his seat on the sofa. “Go back in time and remove the cord from my possession,” he said, as if fate and salvation from oblivion had not just been bandied about.

Perhaps to him, Margarita’s words weren’t relevant, but to Elena they were.
We are creators of our own destiny
. She closed her eyes and ran the words through her head several more times. Her father’s words.
Wise choices
. She had a choice. She didn’t have to become a monster. If she had to become one of these creatures, she could be like her father instead.

“I cannot manipulate the past,” Stefan said, returning to his chair. “I can only be an observer. You know that, Itzov.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I won’t.” Stefan sat. “It can produce disastrous effects. World-altering effects.”

“Just eliminating the cord?”

“Yes. We never know the full impact of a seemingly insignificant event.”

“Then I’ll approach the others of your kind to help me. They’re less…conservative.”

Stefan’s eyes narrowed. “That would be unwise.”

Nikolai leaned even closer to the Time Folder. “Is that a threat?”

“A statement of fact.
Think.
I know it’s hard for you, Slayer, but really think. If your soul hadn’t gone down that cord to claim her, would she be alive? Would your impression of her be different? Knowing she’s your mate had to impact you somehow. The result of eliminating it would have the exact effect you are trying to avoid. She’d be dead, and we both know it.”

Every red flag in the universe shot up and blew in the wind of Elena’s mind. “Whoa.” She held her hands up. “Stop. Back it up.” What else had Nikolai had lied about? “What’s this ‘mate’ business?”

Nikolai groaned and covered his face.

Stefan grinned. “You. Him. Destined to be together forever…literally. He’s known from the start.”

She wanted to scream. Instead, she kept her voice level. “Stop screwing with me, both of you. I deserve to know exactly what’s going on.” She yanked the cord to get Nikolai’s attention. “Tell me now. Tell me everything going on without edits or omissions.”

Nikolai crossed his arms over his chest, pulling her wrist when he did. “Or what?”

She yanked back. “Or I’ll find a freaking way to kill you in your sleep.”

To her chagrin, he smiled.

“You think I’m kidding?” she shouted.

His smile widened. “I hope not. It would be exciting to see you try it.”

Stefan laughed. “Logic is wasted on him. Threats? Now, you’re speaking his language.”

Elena was so angry she didn’t even know how to react. Nikolai was maddening. It was like her needs and feelings didn’t even matter at all. He had threatened her, insulted her, made her feel inferior, and now she was his mate for freaking
ever
? She wanted to cry, but there was no way she’d let this brute get to her. Never again. She gripped her knees and met his golden eyes. “Mate? Never. Screw you.”

His smile grew wider. “Now you’re
really
speaking my language.”

“Figuratively. Never ever literally.”

Nikolai jerked the cord so hard it yanked her body across his, noses almost touching. Her heart hammered as she flattened her palms over his warm, smooth, bare chest. It took every ounce of self-control to not run her hands over those muscles. Damned traitorous body. Whose side was it on anyway?

He jerked the cord again. “Now you listen to me, vampire. Your execution order came from the Slayer king himself. Your life was forfeit the moment the kill order was signed. It is by my grace alone you live at this moment.”

“Or the grace of this cord,” she said, shoving her bound wrist between their faces. “You would have already offed me if it weren’t for the fact it would kill your sorry ass as well.”

“I wonder…” Stefan cut in. “What about her caught the king’s eye?”

“Her father was Gregor Arcos.”

“And?”

“And…”

Stefan leaned closer. “There’s more to it than that. More to
her
.”

There
was
more to her. That was clear to Nikolai. Why would his uncle be so adamant she be destroyed? She was human and had been unaware what her father really was. It didn’t make sense.

She slid off him and covered her face with her hands. She’d been through a lot in the past two days. More than the average human could bear. But she wasn’t the average human, was she? She scratched her collarbone and then covered her face again. Nikolai wanted to help her—to free her from her grim fate. But he didn’t know how.

She scratched again and made a whimpering sound.

“Is something in the fabric irritating you?” Darvaak asked.

“It feels like something crawling under my skin. Like ants.” She pulled the neckline of her shirt out and looked down. “Oh, wow.” She pulled the neckline down enough to reveal her neck and part of her chest just under her collarbone. “Look at this.”

But before Nikolai could get a closer look at what appeared to be a splotchy rash, shrill sirens broke out, causing her to jump to her feet and cover her ears. Nikolai grabbed his sword from the side table.

Darvaak bolted to the room off the kitchen and the alarm stopped, and then he strode back in with his phone to his ear. “How many?” His gaze shot to Elena. “How much damage did they do?” He pulled the top off the crystal decanter at the bar and poured some Scotch in a glass and tossed it back. “Did you take any of them alive?” He poured another splash of Scotch. “We’ll meet you in the basement.”

Nikolai held his breath as the Time Folder set his phone down and swirled the gold liquid in the glass.

“It appears we have underestimated how badly your Uncle Fydor wants her dead. It’s hard to fathom he would send soldiers to invade my building. A huge risk, yes?”

Yes, it was. Slayers needed Time Folders. Without them, innocent people could be executed. Also, it was unclear just how much power these freaks of nature had. Time Folders were from a world other than this one, and little was known about them. There was a hands-off policy between the two species. Slayers would also never risk exposing the Underveil by marching on a building such as this, inhabited by humans. Even though humans couldn’t see them unless they desired it, they would see damage done to the structure or environment, since it was a human dwelling and not masked by the Veil. He knew Darvaak didn’t seek a response, and honestly, he didn’t have one.

Darvaak turned his pale eyes on Nikolai, abandoning his drink. “It is fortunate only two of your kind have ever been in my flat, or we would be in a far less advantageous situation. They got no farther than the parking garage. I’ll need to rethink my guest list in the future to keep Slayers from just popping into my suite.”

Darvaak had mentioned he had turned down a request from another Slayer only yesterday. “Who is the other?” Obviously, that Slayer hadn’t been with them, or they would’ve made it into this posh suite and not just into the parking garage.

“My business is always conducted in complete confidentiality.” He walked to the door and put his hand on the pad. The door clicked and swung wide. “Shall we?”

The elevator opened to a small alcove with metal double doors. A huge man in a security guard uniform, a bear shifter, no doubt, judging by the shape and size of him, opened the door, his beefy fingers wrapped around the throat of a Slayer female Nikolai didn’t recognize.

“Welcome to my home, Slayer,” Darvaak said, bowing as if she were not an invader.

The Time Folders had always been a mystery to Nikolai. In direct opposition to his own nature. So polished and slick it irked him. Based on the woman’s smirk, he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

“I’m sorry my hospitality does not extend to my suite. Blood in the carpet is a pet peeve of mine.”

Like all women of Nikolai’s species, she was tall and well muscled with dark hair and gold eyes. Blood coated her arms up to the elbows. Next to him, Elena flinched and turned away.

The Slayer held up her arms and wiggled her fingers. “Right in the middle of a blood bath. Care to join me, Elena Arcos?”

Elena shuddered.

“Who sent you?” Nikolai asked. “How did you find us?”

When she lowered her arms, blood dripped from her hands and splattered onto the perfectly polished concrete of the basement. She hadn’t dipped herself in an adversary’s blood; it was her own, running from long slices carved into her forearms.

“Aleksandra asked me to tell you something, Niki baby.” The guard’s fingers still around her neck, she motioned Nikolai closer with a finger. He approached and stopped a foot or so away. The woman grabbed him on either side of his face with her blood-soaked hands and pulled him to her, dragging his mouth to hers and planting a hard, openmouthed kiss. He kept his lips sealed tight, and she growled. He shoved her away right as the security guard yanked her back. And then he smelled it—the bitter, sickening smell of almonds: cyanide, mixed with the floral scent of an elven elixir. It was fatal for Slayers, but the concentration had to be strong. In fact, it took so much of it to kill a Slayer, it could never be ingested accidentally or slipped into a food without being noticed. It was taken by his kind deliberately to avoid capture. This woman’s blood flowed with poison, and she would die soon.

“Come on, Arcos,” she taunted as the guard snapped a collar around her neck that was attached by a chain to a ring in the wall. Good old-fashioned dungeon hardware. Nikolai’s estimation of the Time Folder went way up.

The woman strained against the chain, reaching for Elena. “You want it. It’s right here. Just waiting.” Drips splashed to the floor. “Yum!”

Slayers were never taken alive. This explained why she hadn’t destroyed herself instantly before capture. She was trying to poison Elena. Fury flooded Nikolai’s body.

“Come on, vampire. Do what you were designed to do.” The woman’s grin was maniacal. “Dinner time! Come and get it!”

“Enough,” Darvaak said, pushing the elevator button. The doors slid open, and he stepped inside.

Nikolai wanted to question this woman before she died and find out why she had mentioned Aleksandra. Surely Aleksi wasn’t part of this. He’d left her at the Fortress where she’d be safe. He leaned close to Elena’s ear, and she flinched. It pained him that she feared him. “Can you stand it a moment more? Her blood is poisoned. Does it tempt you? We can leave if it does.”