Staked (8 page)

Staked! Was he dead? No. It couldn’t be. Fear
thudded what was left of her heart against her chest.

Who did this
? Whoever it was, she
swore they’d pay. She’d spend the rest of her life—and as a
Karellian, that could be a long time—hunting down the offender and
exacting revenge.

And then, she thought she heard someone
calling her name. It was faint but she swore she heard it.
Ava
. The voice was familiar and the nanosecond it took to
recognize its identity felt like eons.

She’d heard stories about the legend, but
that’s all she thought it was. A legend. A vampire’s staked heart
calling out to a Karellian for mercy. To save
him
.

Was it possible? Hope ripped through her
heart. She felt compelled to save him. To at least try.

Ava pulled the pocket knife from her boot and
slit her left wrist horizontally, knowing that wouldn’t kill her.
She let a few drops fall to Stone’s lips. “Mickey...!” She called
over her shoulder. “Get over here.” She watched, mesmerized as a
few droplets of her blood trickled into Stone’s mouth.

She moved her arm and hovered her wrist over
Stone’s chest. “When I tell you,” she said to Mickey, as her blood
dripped onto Stone’s chest where the stake was embedded. “I want
you to pull out the stake.”

“What?” Fright clawed its way out in Mickey’s
voice, bringing with it the taste of sorrow and ruin. Mickey knew
as well as Ava that saving Stone would lead to her downfall.

Ava paid Mickey no mind. She had to focus.
There was just one chance to save Stone. She wasn’t sure how she
knew it, she just did. Her blood pooled around the spike and began
to bubble. “Now, Mickey! Now!”

“Ava...?” Mickey said weakly.

“Pull out the goddamn stake, Mickey!”

Mickey planted a knee against Stone’s chest
and yanked on the spear. The force of pulling out the stake sent
him tumbling backward.

Ava didn’t move, she didn’t look at Mickey.
She just let the blood drip from her wrist onto Stone’s wound.

Please, please, please
.... Ava’s tears
fell to Stone’s chest and streamed toward her blood pooling around
the stake. When it reached her blood bubbling around the gash in
his chest, her tears and her blood swirled and mixed together
building a web over the wound.

Ava scrambled behind Stone, dragged his torso
into her lap and wrapped one arm around him. With one hand, she
ripped her Sun Stones’ pouch off her belt loop and tossed it at
Mickey. It was the only way someone else could touch her Sun
Stones—if she allowed it. “Mix mine with yours. Make a circle large
enough to hold all of us.” She’d given her stones to Mickey because
he was the one laying them out, but this way she could control
Mickey’s pain, sending it all to her. When Mickey didn’t respond
fast enough to suit Ava, she yelled, “Hurry up!” Anxiety had shoved
out the inquiry, and almost instantly she felt bad about yelling at
Mickey.

She was about to apologize but thought better
about distracting Mickey when he began erecting a circular shape
around himself, Stone and Ava. Time was in short supply. She looked
at Skeet. “You’ve got about half a second to step in here with us.”
She shrugged. “Or get left behind.”

She knew Skeet was a loyal friend who
wouldn’t willingly leave Stone at a time like this. She was right.
He leapt into the circle.

Ava closed her eyes and secured her hold on
Stone as the annoying sting started in her toes and worked its way
up to the top of her head and then back down again.

When the cosmic dust settled, Skeet let out a
firm, “What the...?” His words trailed off and Ava looked up at
him. He was standing there with his hands on his hips, looking
around at Ava’s little oasis. It took a little time but when his
gaze settled on Ava, fiery anger blazed in his eyes. “Witch!” His
tone was just as accusing as his glare.

She didn’t have time for this but all things
considered, she gave him a pass. “I’m not a witch.”

“Then...” He looked around. “How do you
explain this?”

“Look, the only thing you need to know about
this place is you’re safe here. No harm can come to you.” She shook
her head. “I’ll explain later, but right now all my energy is
devoted to healing him.”

“Healing him?” Skeet huffed as if offended. A
natural reaction since he couldn’t even begin to comprehend what
was going on.

“Help me get him to the bed.” She nodded over
her shoulder and tried to stand with Stone still in her arms. She
didn’t get far.

Skeet and Mickey lifted the much-too-heavy
man from Ava and, at her lead, carried him into her terrace
bedroom. She fluffed the pillows but didn’t turn back the covers.
“Put him there.” She pointed to the bed. Ava watched as they
deposited Stone on top of the covers. When he was safely on the
bed, she kicked off her shoes and reached for the top button on her
blouse. “Both of you. Out.”

Mickey moved first. “Come on,” he said,
nudging Skeet. “There’s no use trying to reason with her when she
gets like this.” He gave a quick laugh and moved through the gate
separating the two outdoor rooms. Skeet followed him and after a
few seconds Ava heard the slider open and close.

She didn’t give their intentions more than a
passing thought. Instead, she concentrated on helping Stone. She
had no idea if undressing and crawling in to bed with him would
help; she was just following her instincts. And they told her the
blood she was feeding Stone needed to “communicate” with the blood
still coursing through her veins. To do that, she needed to touch
him, skin against skin, as much as possible. She stripped down to
her panties and bra, then worked him out of his boots and clothes
until he was wearing nothing but his briefs.

Ava eased onto the bed beside Stone, draped
her leg over his and snuggled up to him. The heat of his skin gave
her a measure of peace. As long as he was hot, or even warm, then
he wasn’t in danger of dying. Immediately.

She draped a Junovian sheet—ten times softer
than Egyptian cotton—over her backside, just in case one of the
guys walked in. With Skeet around—one hundred percent
uninformed—the likelihood was probable.

The places on their near-bare bodies that
were touching, skin against skin, sizzled and tingled as if her
blood was actually communicating with his.

Ava thought about covering the wound on
Stone’s chest with gauze or something but decided against it after
noticing the webbing and scabbing that was building as the seconds
flew by. Carefully, she put her hand on his chest and domed her
fingers over the injury, willing a bit of her life-force to travel
to her fingertips and into Stone’s wound.

Laying her head near the crook of his neck,
Ava closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander into a world where
Stone was alive and well and flirting with her mercilessly.

Why she felt so compelled to “save” him, she
didn’t understand. It must be the legend. There had to be some
truth to it. How else did she explain the fact that she was lying
in her own bed, here in a sanctuary where she’d never thought about
bringing anyone until she met Stone. And now, she was cuddling up
to the one person who could destroy her—and they were both
half-naked to boot.

But he could destroy her. So why was she
trying to save him?

The inquiry crawled up her back like a bitter
chill. Why? Why do that? Trying to save Stone, knowing what he
could do to her—now that was crazy.

That silent prayer—
please, God...don’t let
him die
—rambled around inside her a head a full two minutes
before she realized it had reemerged.

That was the thing, Ava couldn’t leave him
for dead, not when he’d at least made a pretense—not once, but
twice—of protecting her. First, when he’d stepped between Ava and
Lucien seconds before Lucien doused them with Tiki dust. And again,
when he’d insisted on entering the apartment before her when they’d
arrived at the building where Lucien had stashed Cole.

For as much as she knew it was a mistake, her
conscience wouldn’t let her look the other way. How could saving a
life be a bad idea?

Ava raised her head just enough to look at
Stone’s face. She half-expected his lips to curl into a mischievous
grin and one eye open slightly before he broke into fun-loving
laughter.

But he didn’t. Stone didn’t move.

Not a single twitch.

Nothing.

She lay her head back down and closed her
eyes. She was so tired. And, as far as she could tell, this was the
perfect time to get some sleep. The question was, would sleep come
instead of the dream?

It wasn’t just any dream. This one was more
like a rerun, a replay of her thirteenth birthday. Her mother had
taken her to the Altar of Rocks, a reportedly sacred spot where
various spiritual ceremonies had been conducted for hundreds of
years. Apparently, according to legend,
The Immortal One
had
been purified on this very spot.

As a child, Ava had known there was something
peculiar about her mother. Nothing specific that she could
pinpoint, just a feeling that came over Ava from time-to-time.
Especially when the moon was full, her mother would get this crazed
look in her eyes.

Selinda Valentine, by all accounts, was a
beautiful woman. She’d turned many heads during her short life, but
there was only one man who’d caught her eye and didn’t let go.
Richard, Ava’s father, had often told Ava that he’d become smitten
with her mother the moment he’d laid eyes on her. The attraction
was a powerful one, and it had consumed him. Nothing but pleasing
Selinda had mattered; it became his sole purpose—even after he
learned what she’d been hiding. Then his whole world became about
protecting his wife and her secret.

Then Ava was born.

Her childhood, for the most part, had been a
pleasant one with two loving parents and fond memories. But in the
months leading up to Ava’s thirteenth birthday, something in her
mother changed. Her mood darkened, she ignored Ava’s father and
began keeping Ava up until all hours.

Ava’s memories of the days leading up to her
thirteenth birthday were hazy, at best. She’d never been able to
remember how she ended up at the Altar of Rocks. All she did know
was that when she opened her eyes her mother was towering over her.
Fangs had elongated from her eye teeth and curved halfway down her
chin. Her mother’s mouth opened slightly and she moved down toward
Ava, but stopped short as a look of agony twisted on Selinda’s
face. She sucked in a deep breath and stopped, looking down at
herself an instant before the stake jutted through her chest and
pointed at Ava.

Someone—Daddy—had staked her mother.

Selinda stared at the stake that had
punctured her heart. Her cruel gaze rose to look at Ava. “The
Immortal One
will get you,” she said, and then fell at the
base of the altar.

* * *

Ava’s eyes shot open. She felt a bit of
relief when she realized she was in the bed in her sanctuary with
Stone.

Stone.
Oh. My. God
. She’d turned him
into the
Immortal One
.

~~~~

Chapter Six

Ava knew in an instant that the strong,
masculine hands stroking her arm and back belonged to Stone. She
couldn’t be sure how much time had passed while she’d slept at his
side. However long it was, it had been enough time to bring him
back to consciousness. And based on the brazen action of his hands,
he was on the mend.

Ava cleared her throat and made a
half-hearted attempt at pulling away from him.

“Where I come from...” Stone drew her back to
him and tightened his embrace. “Being in bed together, naked, means
we’re married.”

She knew he was a liar and thought about
telling him so. But instead, she said, “Not that I’m an expert on
your time period or anything, but where I come from marriage takes
a wedding
ceremony
.”

Stone let out a trail of broken laughter.
When it died out, he said, “Well I don’t know about ceremonies but
what I do know is that I was staked, left for dead, and now I’m
here with you.” He paused a moment, before his true intent finally
surfaced. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Various responses bounced off the sides of
Ava’s head, all of them giving just enough information to appease
Stone. The problem was, Stone was a smart guy and half-truths would
only fuel his curiosity, not satisfy it.

“Let’s just say that I have a rare blood
type.” She paused, feeling pretty good about her declaration. “And
luckily for you, I happened upon you before it was too late.” No
way did Ava want to bring up that old legend. If she said it out
loud right now, somehow that felt like validation for what she’d
always considered a myth. Ava had previously thought it utter
nonsense that a Karellian could save a vampire from being
staked
. Until today.

She let another pressing thought storm the
forefront of her mind. Propping herself up on one elbow, she looked
at Stone. “Who staked you?” Ava prayed it had nothing to do with
her. She hated to think Lucien was Stone’s attacker.

“Just somebody that I’ve had a beef with for
a really long time,” he said, with a measure of vagueness. She
suspected, on purpose. Well, so long as it wasn’t Lucien. Ava
didn’t need any more guilt laid upon her shoulders. The reality
that her father had staked her mother—his soul-mate—for Ava’s
benefit was plenty.

“Same ones from the rest stop?” Ava needed
clarification.

Stone nodded. “But let’s talk more about your
blood
,” he said. “I had a stake through my heart, but now
I’m lying here, in your bed, seemingly alive and well.” He looked
at her with an accusatory eye. “Or am I dead?”