Wrenching Fate (9 page)

With honor… a strange reply
. The pain in his voice made her heart twinge in discomfort. She steered her questions to more technical ground. “So, do you have to kill people?”

His shoulders relaxed in obvious relief at the change in topic, though his eyes still swam with guilt. “When I was young I killed at least one English soldier a night, though it is not necessary to kill. In fact, humans have more blood in their bodies than a vampire can drink in one sitting. However, if I happen to encounter a murderer or rapist I won’t hesitate to make a feast out of them, providing I can make the death look like an accident.”

Akasha lit another cigarette. “How do you know they’re murderers or rapists? Can you read minds like the stories say? Or is it more ‘cuz you’re psychic?”

He nodded. “Not all of us have that ability, though when most of us we feed we see all our victims’ secrets.”

She shivered. “Then… can you read my mind?”

He gave her an odd look. “No. Your mind moves far too fast for me to read. And strangely, if I touch you, I see no visions. That is why I have been so curious about you. I am unaccustomed to mortals keeping secrets from me.”

Keeping secrets…
Indeed that is what she’d been doing for years. Akasha didn’t know if she was ready to let them go. She changed the subject again, realizing this conversation was becoming a strange evasive dance. “How can vampires be killed?”

He raised a brow, but his smile was teasing. “Are you planning something?”

Her cheeks heated. “No. I mean… I would like to be able to defend myself, but mostly I just want to know which of the stories are true.” Akasha attempted an equally mocking tone, but her voice shook. “Xochitl cooks with a lot of garlic, you know.”

Silas smiled. “I rather like garlic. That myth came from the southern Slavic areas hundreds of years ago. The herb was said to combat witches. Mr. Stoker popularized it in the late nineteenth century.”

Akasha shook her head, awed by his textbook style recital. “What about stakes?”

He frowned and resumed his former seriousness. “Anything that damages the heart can be fatal, though most survive bullet wounds, even silver, which is another myth, unless perhaps werewolves
do
exist. I, for one, have never seen one. Other myths are the ones about holy items, running water, and iron.” He rattled off the list with his fingers. “Fire and sunlight are our bane.”

“You won’t come in my room unless invited,” Akasha said, her curiosity rising with everything she learned.

Silas nodded. “Most of us believe in manners, and it is somewhat of a faux pas to drink from someone in their abode.” He turned to her, those emerald eyes seemed to peer into her soul. “I think you know enough about me for now. Let’s talk about you.”

Akasha hid her trepidation with a big yawn. “It’s getting late. I should probably go to bed.” She couldn’t conceal the trembling of her voice.

She stood up and moved to leave, but Silas’s hand locked on her wrist. Electricity flared at the contact. “You think to escape so easily? There are many explanations you still owe me.”

“I know.” She stared at the floor, hoping he couldn’t see her reaction to his touch. “I-I’m jus
t not ready to talk about it yet, okay?”

“Akasha, I know you are stronger than the average morta
l
” His thumb caressed her wrist.

Panic clawed at her throat. He
did
know! But he didn’t seem to be repulsed, so he couldn’t know everything.

“Why did you kiss
me, Silas?” Akasha cut him off, seeking any tactic to distract him.

He released her so abruptly that she stumbled, barely catching the arm of the couch. The room swam in her vision. She hadn’t been this drunk in awhile. Silas reached out and steadied her, his hands on her hips. Warmth pooled in her belly at his touch.

“You may go to bed.” His tone was guarded and for once he avoided her gaze.

She stepped closer to him. He was so tall that while she was standing they were nearly eye to eye. “Wait. One more thing.”

“Yes?” he asked cautiously.

“Open your mouth.” She didn’t know if it was curiosity that pushed her request or a desire to punish him for his insistence in knowing about her past… her
abnormality
.

Silas rolled his eyes but did as she asked. Those sensuously sculpted lips parted… and there they were. His fangs gleamed in the firelight, white and sharp and starkly real. She touched one with a shaky finger. Immediately, the lethal point pierced her flesh. Akasha withdrew her finger with a hiss, staring in shock as the digit stung and welled up with blood.

“Fuck! I didn’t know they were that sharp!” The room spun again and she swayed.

Silas caught her once more. He took her hand and raised her finger to his lips. His tongue darted out and licked the blood from the tiny wound. Akasha trembled, heat flooding her core as the blood rushed to her head.

“Be more careful next time.” His voice was low and husky.

Her knees went weak and she knew it wasn’t from the half-rack she downed. “Okay….uh…. goodnight then.”

“Promise me you’ll be here at sunset tomorrow,” he said.

She nodded and stumbled up the stairs, refusing his offer to help.

Despite the revelation that Silas was an immortal creature of myth who’d decided to take her under his roof because of a mysterious psychic vision, Akasha’s routine was surprisingly unaltered. She continued her work on Xochitl’s Datsun and
Rage of Angels
continued practicing in the basement. The only thing that had changed was that now Silas seemed to be avoiding her instead of the other way around. She’d barely had time to ask him to take her and her friends to the concert before he left to go bite some unsuspecting person.

Akasha frowned as she bolted the Datsun’s engine to the transmission.
Is he avoiding me because of the whole vampire thing…or because of the kiss
? Her knees weakened at the memory of Silas’s lips against hers.
Where will we go after that?
She may be crazy but
that
was a bigger concern than her guardian’s dietary habits.

The same questions chased each other in her mind since that fateful night.
Will he kiss me again? And if he did, would things go further?
Common sense told her they would.

Then the most unsettling question arose:
Could I handle such intimacy after what happened?

Akasha bit her lip and fastened the engine to the cherry picker. Closing her eyes, she pictured Silas’s naked chest pressed against her flesh…of him thrusting inside her. No thread of the usual revulsion came.
Maybe….

“Good evening, Akasha,” Silas’s voice interrupted her thoughts, making her hand slip on the hydraulic lever of the hoist.

With desperate speed, she caught the lever before the Datsun’s power train crashed to the floor. Her cheeks flamed. “Uh…hi.”

“I am surprised to see you up so late,” he commented, eyes roving over the car. “You have school tomorrow.”

Akasha’s fists clenched in frustration at his vague tone. A thousand questions leapt to her mind, but all were too embarrassing. Instead she looked at the Datsun as if it were the most important thing in the world. “I wanted to get the engine and transmission back in the car. I’ll be finished sooner if you would care to help.” Her lips curved up in a bitter smile.
Let him get his hands dirty for once!

Silas sighed and she felt a sadistic tremor of pleasure at his discomfort. “Very well. Why did you attach the transmission to it first?”

“It’s easier this way with stick shifts.” She wheeled the hoist over the car. “Could you help me line the engine up on the mounts when I lower it, then hold it still while I bolt it in?”

Silas looked like he had three thumbs through the entire process as the engine rocked dangerously on the hoist. Akasha stifled a giggle…then dropped her wrench as his proximity made her quiver. It seemed her demand had backfired. She willed her stomach to quit fluttering and her eyes to quit gazing at him like a love struck girl.

Eventually, they got the job done.

“I should have it running in about two days,” she said and followed him into the house, heading straight for the kitchen. “If all goes well, Xochitl should be able to drive it to the concert.”

“About that,” Silas grabbed a beer from the fridge and opened it, handing it to her. “Aurora’s parents insisted I drive you all. It will be a tight squeeze but I’m certain it will work. The Barracuda has a large back seat.”

Akasha looked away before he could see her reactions to the words, “tight squeeze” and “large backseat.” Forcing the naughty images from her mind, she took a swig of beer. “Why didn’t you use your vampire mind tricks on them?”

A surprised flicker flashed in his eyes at that. “You are not at all afraid of me, are you?”

“Should I be?” She shook her head. She
was
afraid, just not in the sense he meant. “Besides, you’re too nice.”

Silas stepped closer to her, his graceful movements full of barely checked power. His knuckles brushed across her cheek, a whisper of a caress.

“I am not always so nice,” he whispered. His fangs glistened with dangerous promise and she trembled, leaning forward. Silas released a low growl, his eyes glowing like phosphorus.

Akasha reached for him— and grasped empty air. He’d vanished again.

“Damn it,” she whispered, aching with half-understood longing.

If things kept up like this for long, the tension would be unbearable.

***

This is a big mistake…
Silas followed Akasha and her friends, struggling against the mass of sweating mortals. But he could refuse Akasha nothing… especially after the scare he’d given her the other night.

She walked in front of him now, spine straight and confident, so close he could reach out and touch her. Ever since Akasha learned his secret, she behaved as if nothing happened. No doubt she hoped to avoid his questions. Silas sighed. Two could play at this game.

Again, she left his sight as they wove through the crowd. His heart jolted every time he lost her.

When Akasha asked him to take her and her friends to this concert, Silas never imagined it would be like this. He’d shaken his head at the pitying looks that Aurora’s and Sylvis’s parents gave him. He should have heeded them. This was bedlam, pure and simple. What was worse was that he’d sent a message to the Lord of Spokane informing him that he’d be in the territory on peaceful business and he never received a reply. Silas clenched his jaw, getting a decidedly bad feeling which grew worse every second.

“We’re almost there!” Xochitl’s exuberant shout pulled him from his thoughts.

They were t
rying to get to the “mosh pit,” whatever that was.

“Are you sure you want to go with us?” Akasha asked, sounding worried. “It gets pretty crazy down there.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.” Silas fought back an urge to bare his fangs. There was no way he was letting any of them out of his sight.
“Guard them,”
Delgarias had commanded. Had the Elder anticipated the chaos of a heavy metal concert?

Oblivious to his worry, Akasha shrugged and hurried after her friends.

Silas cast another anxious glance at a group of hulking tattooed men that were literally tossing people out of their path before he followed Akasha.

Even after listening to the raucous music of
Rage of Angels
, he never imagined a concert to be this chaotic and dangerous. No wonder their parents wouldn’t let them go without a supervising adult even as they refused to volunteer.

Finally, they reached “the pit.” Akasha and her friends pushed their way to the front as people filed in until they were shoulder to shoulder. The lights went dim as the band came onto the stage. Screaming and cheering erupted. Silas winced as the sound pierced his sensitive ears.

The first notes on the guitar were struck and everyone around the vampire— including his charges— went wild. Silas had to fight to keep his footing as the entire weight of the crowd jostled him. The wild energy of the crowd beat against his psychic shields, threatening to tumble him into maddening visions he’d controlled for centuries. The riot seemed to last an eternity. When the last song ended and the band exited the stage, he heaved a sigh of relief. He reached for Akasha to ask her if she was ready to go.

She laughed. “That was only the opening band.”

Sure enough, the next band mounted the stage and cheering erupted before the music even started. He barely heard Xochitl exclaim, “Holy shit, it’s really them!”

Chaos ensued. The crowd thrust forward and he stumbled into Akasha. He tried to apologize but she just grinned and shoved the people next to her. A boot struck him in the head as a man was being passed around atop the crowd. Silas now knew what a mosh pit was. He could have
lived content without the knowledge.
Why did I ever agree to this?
He thought.
Why, oh, why?

Akasha went up then. Silas tried to pull her back down, but it was too late. She sailed over the top of the mob like a twig in a whirlpool. He had to catch her.
She could get hurt!
A low growl built in his throat as he pushed his way through the mass only to get lost in a tide of thrashing bodies. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man being carried away on a stretcher by a team of medics and his worry increased. Thousands of squirming people engulfed him like a hot sea. As his temper and panic rose, so did the scent of blood. A multitude of bleeding cuts tempted him mercilessly to sink his teeth in and feast until he was satiated.

At last, Silas reached the edge of the pit. A blast of fresh air hit him in the face and he needed no other prompt to get out. He stood there for a moment gasping for breath, trying to get a grip on his blood thirst before it became apparent to all. The mosh pit had been utter madness. He couldn’t believe Akasha and her crazy friends wanted to be in it. And now he lost them. Akasha’s Mark was obscured amongst the chaos.

His fangs throbbed with the need to punish. These were his charges.
If something happened to them…

Power prickled his flesh.
Xochitl
! His mind shouted in triumph as he detected her presence. If he found her, perhaps she could find Akasha and the others. Silas circled the pit with renewed determination.

When he’d almost made his way arou
nd, he caught Xochitl’s essence in the opposite direction.
She must have needed air too.
He followed the sense like a hound on a hunt. As her presence grew stronger, he detected another one of his kind. They both came into sight at the same moment. A male, about a century old followed Xochitl like a wolf on the hunt. Silas could taste his intent to capture her unawares. As she got in line to use the restroom, he thrust the miscreant to a far corner of the arena.

“Stay away from her,” Silas commanded, fangs bared.

“Wh-what is she?” the other vampire asked, his blue eyes already glowing with desire.

“She is mine.” McNaught didn’t need to admit his ignorance to this weakling.

“I don’t see your Mark upon her.” the other replied with growing insolence. “As far as I see, she’s up for grabs.”

Silas growled. “You will have to go through me first, youngling.”

He prayed the vampire wouldn’t take up the offer, not when there were so many mortals around and Xochitl was so close. Unfortunately, the fool appeared as if he were considering it.

“Why do
you
want her anyway?” The intruder sneered. “You already have a pet mortal. I’ve seen her, tasted your Mark and left her alone. I claim this one, even if she isn’t human.”

“I am a Lord. I can have as many a
s I want.” He wasn’t really sure if that was true, but he doubted the other vampire would know any different.

“Well, you’re not
my
Lord.”

Silas took a fleeting glance at oblivious bystanders before grabbing the other’s fingers and twisting them until he heard the satisfying crunch of bone. He jerked the vampire closer, baring his fangs and allowing his eyes to glow demonically. “Leave now, and you live.”

The upstart needed no further encouragement. After he fled, Silas heaved a sigh of relief. This couldn’t happen again.

“Oh hi, Silas.” Xochitl emerged from the bathroom. “What’s up?”

Silas seized her arm and jerked her towards him, capturing her mind with his as he pulled her into a dark alcove away from prying eyes. Xochitl’s mind was slippery and chaotic with thousands of thoughts overlaid with the music of countless songs. After a phenomenal struggle, he held on and managed to put her into a deep sleep. He fed her his blood and recited the Marking ritual.

But when he reached out with his mind to touch the Mark, the strangest thing happened. Xochitl’s mind opened into a vortex and he was sucked inside.

Xochitl was walking in a garden of black roses. Her thoughts still buzzed chaotically, but the effect was muted. Two moons glimmered in the starry sky. The sight of those moons— one silver— one gold, struck him forcibly. He’d seen them before.

“Dammit, I really wish you’d quit bringing me here,” Xochitl grumbled.

Apparently this was a recurring dream. How interesting.

A rasping noise began to permeate the garden. She shook her head back and forth and moaned. “No! I don’t want to see it again!”

All around her the roses were withering; petals browned and fell. Thorny branches turned brittle and cracked. There was something sinister about roses dying so fast that one could hear them.

A shadow fell over Xochitl’s slight figure. A man stood before her, cloaked in shadows. He emanated such raw power that Silas could feel it. Xochitl bore the brunt of it and trembled. The man reached for her.

“Don’t!” Silas whispered without thinking.

Unbelievably, the man’s gaze whipped towards him. Their eyes locked and he snarled, “GET OUT!”

Thunder rumbled.

“SHE IS MINE!” Lighting shot out of the man’s hand and struck the vampire in the chest.

Silas slammed back into his body with painful force. He wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow, overcome with the feeling he’d set the wheels in motion for something that couldn’t be stopped.
Had Delgarias known this would happen?
The thought gave him chills.