Ascension (12 page)

“Walk faster.”

If her senses hadn’t been thrown off by the stench of booze emitting from Ryker’s pores, she still had plenty of time to make it before sunrise. But she didn’t want to take the chance of slowing down and becoming bacon. They passed the small cemetery that rested barely a block from her place, and saw the interesting interlocked tree that had called to her since she’d moved here. She wasn’t sure what types of trees made up the glorious oddity, but one species of tree grew inside the other, two separate beings had formed into one, becoming stronger together than either would have been apart.

A lot like Kyana.

She ushered Ryker past the tree and back onto the sidewalk. “See that big yellow two-story on the corner?” she said. “That’s where we’re headed. I need you to concentrate and move those big-ass feet a little faster, okay?”

“I can walk by myself,” he muttered.

She caught him before he smashed his pretty face into a light post.

“Sure you can.”

When they were about ten feet away from Kyana’s house, he stopped beside a swaying palm tree. “I shouldn’t have kissed you back then.”

“Hey, you were on a high after the bar fight. It happens.”

“No. Not just now. Back
then
. When you came to me. I shouldn’t . . . have kissed you then.”

She should have left him in the bar. “That was ten years ago, Ryker, and you made your feelings on that pretty clear.”

His face contorted as though he was in pain. Kyana leaned him against the side of her house and took the stairs two at a time, opened the door, then returned to Ryker’s side. He wouldn’t budge.

“I mean it. Big mistake. You . . . make me crazy. Always have.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The wind picked up, slamming the door closed again. “Damn it. Stay put.”

She leaned him against the wall again, opened the door, and turned back to find they weren’t alone. Leeches. Seven of them.

They were surrounding Ryker before Kyana could so much as warn him.

Chapter Twelve

L
eeches were mindless killing machines who usually worked under the control of someone else. But they always had their sights set on the aura of the gods. And given the way all seven Leeches were now moving slowly toward Ryker and ignoring Kyana completely, his aura must have called to them immediately.

A wide band of pink lightened the sky to the east. This was going to get interesting. The sun was going to rise soon, and unfortunately, Leeches didn’t share her need to hide from it. Tick tock.

She glanced at Ryker. He was spinning in a circle, obviously using his telekinetic abilities to try to hold them back, but the booze was muddling the process because each Leech staggered backward only a few steps before stalking toward him again and again.

Kyana jumped from the entryway of her house and placed herself in front of Ryker. She used their lack of focus on her to get the advantage. Never taking her gaze off the approaching attack, she slowly eased her dagger from her belt and sliced the throat of the Leech closest to her.

Its shriek of pain was brief before it crumpled to the ground. The other six halted, no longer intent on Ryker. Kyana grabbed Ryker by the front of his shirt and shoved him out of the way. The first rays of sun would soon stab their way through the treetops. She attempted to back them toward her house, trying to move the fight indoors, but as stupid as they might be, the Leeches seemed to understand her intent and stayed put.

“Get inside, Ky.”

She ignored Ryker. If she locked herself indoors, the Leeches would break through the windows once they’d seen where she’d gone. She couldn’t have her home so exposed. The shutters were all that kept the sun at bay as it was. There were too many windows . . . she’d have too few places to hide.

“Don’t move!” She rushed the Leech closest to her, kicking off the wall so she could smash in its face with the heel of her boot. Its nose crumbled inside its head like papier-mâché.

One jumped on her back and Kyana thrust backward, crushing it between herself and the wall. Its bones sounded like splintered wood as the stink of its foul blood oozed from its nose. She turned and kicked it away before turning back to its five friends.

“You wanted a fight, you should have waited twenty damned minutes!” she called to Ryker.

Sadly, he took her frustration to mean she needed help and leaped into the fray. Even in his drunken state, he handled two of them with little problem. Using only his mind, he seemed to break through his drunken barrier and tossed one of the Leeches into the air, impaling it on a branch with nothing more than a hand motion and a glare.

As Kyana ducked an attack from the two in front of her, she caught sight of Ryker chasing after his remaining victim, and turned her focus back to the two vile beasts in her face.

Her fangs tingled in preparation for attack as she summoned more energy. The sun was closer. Already the coolness of the morning was giving way to slight heat. The Leeches came at her as one. One on her back, one on her front. She dipped to her knees, causing them to collide with each other before she rolled onto her back and leaped to her feet. A flick of her wrist, and she flung her dagger straight into one’s open mouth. It gurgled and sputtered, its jaw hanging open at a grotesque angle as it fought to pull the knife from its throat.

“Come and get me, big guy.” While one Leech was indisposed, she pulled the other’s attention to her, leaping onto the small brick wall bordering the sidewalk. She swung around the lamppost, kicking out and catching the Leech between her calves. She twisted her legs, listened with satisfaction as the sound of its neck breaking drowned out the Leech’s scream of agony.

As the dead creature slumped to the ground, the final Leech finally managed to rip the blade from its throat and toss it to the ground. The clank of silver on stone screamed of anger, and the beast raced at her with a viciousness its brothers had lacked.

Kyana pushed off of the wall, but the beast caught her ankle and jerked her to the ground, sending her skidding across rough concrete. Her chin smacked against the base of her steps and it took her a second to gain her bearings before rolling onto her back and swinging herself to her feet. As she stood to full height, the weight of the Leech crushed her into the banister and slid her body up until her head cracked against her shuttered window. She tried to crush it between her thighs, but already, the approaching sun was weakening her. The pink rays were frighteningly close.

All she could do was inch her way inside the house and pray she could finish it off before it could expose her to sunlight.

The Leech seemed to read her intentions like it actually possessed a brain. It seized her foot and threw her once again to the ground, then dragged her all the way back to the corner where the fight had begun. She thrust her free foot into its shin, sending the thing to its knees. One deadly ray of sun broke free of the trees and seared her cheek. Kyana screamed and broke free of the Leech’s hold, shoving past it back in the direction of her house. It caught her before she could take the steps and pinned her to the ground.

She was too weak to fight any longer. The sun was coming to claim her power, and the only thing that would save her was to use the last remnants of her strength to shift and save herself from the sunlight. Her shift came painfully, but as her Lychen half took form, she was able to slither her body out from under the Leech’s hold. It looked stunned by her transformation, and she used its disorientation to head for the steps once again.

Pain tore through her thick coat and seared her ribs and breast, causing her to howl. She slumped over. Her attacker snarled. She fought to maintain form. Her body ached to return to Vamp, but the sidewalk was dusted with dots of sun, and they would turn her into a pincushion in two seconds flat.

Pain like nothing she’d ever felt gripped her body. Forcing her head up, she caught a glimpse of her own dagger protruding from her side. She’d never known Leeches to use physical weapons before. Now was a fine time for them to learn.

She struggled to maintain the only shield she possessed from the sun, but the pain stole her focus. Her injuries were extensive. Blood soaked her fur and pooled beneath her body, creating a tiny river in the sidewalk crack beside her. Blinded by the mind-numbing ache in her belly, she lost her tenuous grip on her Lychen form. She quickly shifted from wolf to Vamp and back to wolf several times, making the world around her flicker like Christmas lights before she lost the struggle and her Vampyric form won out.

Immediately, her exposed skin warmed and blistered. Kyana bit her lip to keep from crying out. Behind her, she could hear Ryker’s muffled voice calling her name, felt the Leech being thrown off her, heard the Leech’s sudden scream and just as sudden quiet. Ryker was hovering over her in the next minute, jostling her. But she couldn’t respond. She was slowly being burned alive.

She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the last bit of shade protecting her naked body to fade. The stench of burning flesh clogged her nose and seared her throat. Strong, gentle hands lifted her, and then she was floating, drifting, desperately clinging to consciousness.

Something warm and soft covered her. She risked opening her eyes enough to see Ryker’s shirt resting over her naked body. He was trying to shield as much of her from the sun as possible.

He tightened his grip and raced up the steps, stumbled, but quickly regained his balance. The rays scorched her back, her arms, her legs. Her cry of pain and Ryker’s roar of frustration rang in her ears.

He shouldered the door open and kicked it closed behind them. Gently, he carried her down the hall and into the bathroom, setting her naked body into the large tub. The sudden coolness of water soaking her caused her to quake and threatened to rip the skin from her body.

She flailed, splashing bloody water all over Ryker and the bathroom floor, but Kyana couldn’t stop the trembling. The hilt of the dagger hit the side of the tub, vibrating against her ribs like a tuning fork. Kyana roared, slamming her skull into the porcelain.

Ryker knelt at her side. “I’ve got to get that out.”

Kyana blinked to clear the stars from her vision. The dagger wound wouldn’t kill her, but it sure as hell hurt. It was her scorched skin that was going to do her in. Already, the poison of the sun seeped through her pores and into her bloodstream. Soon, it would attack her heart and stop it completely. She’d rather not be in so much pain when that happened, so she struggled to stay still and bit her lip in preparation for Ryker’s drunken ministrations.

He gripped the hilt in his fist, then tilted her chin, forcing her to look at him. The look of devastation on his face made her close her eyes. He quickly pulled the knife from her body. A long, slow hiss found its way from between her clenched teeth.

“Shit. Kyana, I’m sorry.” He reached for a washcloth and pressed it to her wound to stanch the flow of blood. With the poison working its way through her body, she could barely cover his hand with hers.

The water eased the burning, but at the same time, intensified the pain. She glimpsed her arms. The skin was charred black. Any second, it would slide off the bone.

Ryker snatched a large towel from the rack and covered her with it, then lifted her from the tub. He carried her to her bed and set her in the center. She felt him kneel beside her. Felt him watching her. Kyana refused to meet his gaze. The last thing she needed was to see his pity as he stuffed the towel against the knife wound. He whipped off his belt and fastened it around her waist to keep the towel in place. She wanted to tell him to stop, that it didn’t matter how much she bled. The wound wouldn’t kill her. It was the rest of her that needed tending, and yet, there was no tending that could be done.

“You should have let them have me.” He gripped her chin, turning her head toward him. She could see his struggle to focus and was willing to bet that, after this, he’d never touch booze again. “May the gods find mercy for us both.” He raised his arm and tore open his wrist with his fang. Not giving her a chance to refuse, he held his wrist to her mouth. His warm, rich blood coated her tongue.

Kyana tried to move, tried to make him stop. This wasn’t the same as feeding off Icky. Icky had been a soulless beast, with no essence to feed her. Ryker definitely had a soul, definitely had a powerful essence that could drive her into insanity.

She couldn’t feed. Couldn’t become the Dark Breed she’d been. It had taken years of agony to control the thirst, the agonizing addiction for living blood. She’d rather die than go through that again.

“Drink, damn it.” He flexed his fist to make the blood flow faster. “It’s the only way.”

Blood filled her mouth and spilled down her throat. She coughed against the burning taste of alcohol as her throat closed around the thick drink. She fought against him like a drowning victim fighting the waves for air. Years of suppressed need flooded her. Kyana gave in. She gripped his wrist in both hands and drank deeply.

She didn’t know how long she fed with her gaze locked on his, his body swaying with each suckle. Her mind struggled to untangle his jumbled thoughts from her own. Between the pain and the thirst and the infusion of the booze he’d consumed making her head spin, she couldn’t make sense of anything she heard or felt. She gave up trying and simply let his blood begin healing her wounds.

When she’d satisfied her need, she eased her grip. “Sleep,” he mumbled, to himself or to her, Kyana didn’t know. He covered them with the satin bedspread, lay beside her, and rested his arm over her waist. “Sleep.”

For the first time in her Vampyric life, Kyana did as she was told without argument.

T
he loving gaze staring back at Kyana in her dreams wasn’t that of a lover. It belonged to a father not born of blood, but of heart. As Kyana slept, Ryker’s blood soared through her veins, easing both her external wounds and the agonies she’d carried with her for centuries. The dream took her back to Istanbul and to her human body where Henry, her Sire, knelt beside Kyana’s canopied bed and fed her from his wrist. His black eyes locked on hers, screaming a silent apology for what he was about to do, as her broken, raped body lay exposed before him. He’d tried to cover her with his jacket, but the bitter winds had still ripped through her shutters and torn at her abused, twenty-year-old flesh.

It hadn’t been the first night the sultan had raped her. No, he’d taken that liberty on their wedding night—Kyana’s fifteenth birthday. But this night, the rape had extended into the wee hours of morning and had left her all but dead. Henry had found Kyana in the stairwell outside Mehmet’s private chambers and had carried her so tenderly to her own that even now, while she slept, the tears of gratitude were just as real. Her own father had never been so kind, so tender. From that second, Henry became Kyana’s family, her heart. She would have thrown herself from her window had he asked it of her.

Her dream filled with tension as the taste of Henry’s blood then mingled with the taste of Ryker’s now. The Lychen in her came alive. The Vampyre in her soul screamed out to feed. She’d fed and found revenge in one evening, leaving behind a carnage in Mehmet’s palace that had Turks everywhere speaking her name in fear for decades to come. She’d gone from a naïve human child to the bogeyman that had prompted children to sleep. The cautionary warning for young ones not to enter forbidden woods. The monster in their closets.