Bewitch (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 5) (21 page)

He raised his eyes to hers again.

“Come back to me, Payne.” Her eyes darted between his and he could sense her desire to touch him.

He wanted that too. He stepped up to her, leaned down and rested his heavy head on her slender shoulder, needing to feel her and smell her, and know that she was here with him, safe and sound.

He wasn’t sure how long he remained there, weak and tired, confused about everything and feeling so uncertain. Elissa didn’t move. She stayed with him, her cheek resting against his, sometimes whispering soothing things to him. He slowly pieced himself back together, tamping down his anger and regaining control. It helped that someone made the audience leave. He wasn’t sure who.

The performers left too, but some vampires remained, staring at him, patiently waiting for an explanation.

Elissa pressed a kiss to his cheek and the boy stirred in her arms. Payne drew back to check on him. He slept still. Payne was surprised he hadn’t woken yet but when he looked into Elissa’s eyes and saw them twinkling like diamonds, he knew why the child still slumbered. She was using her magic to keep him under, protecting him from this dark place that Payne had brought them to.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low.

“You were only trying to protect us.” She smiled at him, relieving the ache in his heart, and then tiptoed. Payne met her halfway, stealing a kiss from her. He had never needed anything as fiercely as he needed this kiss and the sliver of reassurance that it conveyed to his heart. Perhaps he could fix things after all. Perhaps Elissa would consent to be his mate.

“Are you going to introduce us?” Chica’s bright voice filled the theatre and Payne looked over his shoulder at her and Andreu.

And Sera. When had she arrived? She stood at the side of the stage, her blonde hair tied in a neat ponytail, wearing a short black dress.

Antoine and Snow were present too, standing below him at the front of the stalls. He didn’t dare look at them. He could feel Antoine’s anger and knew the powerful aristocrat would be having words with him later about interrupting a show and scaring away customers.

And bringing a witch and a child to the theatre.

It was the only place he could have taken her.

It was the only place he could call home.

“Elissa,” Elissa introduced herself, stepping around Payne, her hand still against the boy’s forehead, keeping him asleep. “And this is Luca.”

Luca.

Payne looked down at the boy in her arms. Not his real name. Payne knew that instinctively. Because they were related? He wasn’t sure how it worked but he had heard that relations couldn’t use names against each other.

Antoine leaped up onto the stage. He adjusted the cuffs of his crisp dark silver shirt. Payne couldn’t remember ever witnessing Antoine dressed any way other than impeccably in expensive tailored shirts and dark trousers, coupled with Italian leather shoes. He was the total opposite of his older brother Snow, who favoured pairing tight black t-shirts with equally as tight black jeans and army boots. That was, when he bothered to wear more than just his jeans. The immense male had no qualms about roaming around Vampirerotique dressed in only his black jeans, wearing them slung low around his hips.

Sera came forwards and joined Antoine, her sparkling green eyes on the boy rather than her male.

“Is there something you may want to tell us?” Antoine said to Payne.

“Yes... I have the ring... it will free Chica of the theatre, but only by binding her to Andreu.” Payne slipped the ring off his little finger and offered it to her. She bounced forwards and took it from him, her grin wide, and then threw her arms around him and gave him a tight hug.

“I knew you’d come good on your promise. Thank you, Payne. I owe you so much.” She squeezed him so tightly he choked and then released him and bounced back to Andreu, holding the ring out to him.

 Andreu grinned too and Payne couldn’t stop himself from smiling along with them, his heart warmed by the sight of them so happy and proud that he had been able to help them after all.

“No, I meant the boy.” Antoine pointed to the sleeping child and looked between him and Payne, back and forth, enough times that his meaning dawned on Payne.

“He isn’t mine.” Payne looked down at Luca and could understand why Antoine had believed there was a possibility that he was the father. “He is related to me though... but it’s a long story.”

“The boy and the witch must leave... now.”

Payne shot a glare at Snow. The lethal white-haired male stared up at him from the front row of the red velvet stalls, his pale blue eyes ringed with crimson.

“I have to protect them... and that means I need to keep them here until I can find a secure home for them.”

“No.” Snow frowned and his pupils stretched, turning cat-like, and his fangs extended. “It means you need to get them away from here... now.”

Payne froze.

Snow growled.

“We are not alone.”

P
ayne’s senses stretched out, screaming in alert. Antoine and Andreu tensed, both males pulling their females close to them. Both females broke out of their arms and readied themselves for a fight. Payne knew if he tried to coddle Elissa she would react in the same way.

Snow leaped up onto the stage, his red eyes scanning the stalls and then the private boxes that lined the walls of the theatre.

Payne couldn’t detect what Snow had sensed coming but he tried to prepare himself for it.

Witches or incubi?

Were they coming for Elissa or coming for him?

Either way, he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to Elissa or the boy.

He backed towards her, keeping her close.

What was keeping them?

He turned and scanned the stalls, and then froze as the hairs on the back of his neck rose and he caught their scent.

Incubi.

They were here for him. He growled and extended his claws. Five males appeared on the stage and it erupted into pandemonium. Payne tried to remain near Elissa as he fought, dealing with a dark-haired young male wielding a sword. It seemed the incubi had come prepared for the fight, leaving his side at a disadvantage.

Antoine growled at Andreu. “Take care of the females.”

Andreu looked as though he was going to protest and then thought the better of it, sticking close to Sera and Chica as he battled a man with long blond hair.

Snow roared and swiped his claws across the throat of a middle-aged dark-haired male, ripping it open. The sight of one of their comrades dying didn’t slow the incubi. More of them appeared, among them the two males Payne had met at the mansion. The one who had welcomed them and the one who had pretended to be his grandfather. Antoine threw himself into the fray, taking on two incubi at a time, his movements swift and brutal. Snow fought alongside him, dealing deadly blows and bloodying his hands. His eyes burned crimson.

Payne kept a wary eye on the immense lethal male, unwilling to trust him when the scent of blood was thick in the air. One wrong step and Snow would lose himself to bloodlust.

“Antoine,” Payne shouted above the din of the fight and the dark-haired aristocrat’s blue eyes met his as he punched a hole through the chest of one of the incubi. Payne caught his opponent with a right hook followed by a swift left uppercut, sending him crashing onto the stage. “Take Snow away from here.”

Antoine glanced at Snow. Snow grinned at his enemy, shredding him with his claws, his fangs enormous and bloodied. He was feeding on the incubi. No good would come of this.

Antoine nodded and then his eyes widened. Payne sensed the incubi who had appeared behind him, close to Elissa. He turned, his heart lodging in his throat. Everything moved in slow motion, his actions sluggish. Elissa’s beautiful eyes grew enormous and she clutched Luca against her. The blond incubi male brought his sword down, aiming straight at her. Payne lunged forwards, reaching for the male, his blood rushing through his ears again.

Antoine reached them first, shoved Elissa backwards out of harm’s way, and tried to evade the strike. The tip of the sword slashed across his chest, slicing through his silver-grey shirt. Red instantly drenched the material.

Snow roared.

Everything sped up then. Payne could only stare as Snow tore through the incubi, ending lives in a split second with claw and fang, spraying blood everywhere and butchering the males.

Sera screamed and ran through the insane fight, ducking under Snow’s arm as he swung at an incubus, driving claws deep into his chest and tearing through bone to reach his heart. She dropped to her knees and skidded on the blood, and caught Antoine as he collapsed.

The floor ran red with blood.

Snow stopped in the centre of the carnage, holding a male by his torn throat, threw his head back and roared, the sound deafening.

Silence fell.

Snow turned dark red eyes on Elissa.

Payne growled and moved between them, shielding her. Snow would easily tear through him as he had the other incubi, but Payne would do all that he could to protect her.

Snow’s broad chest heaved, his black t-shirt drenched in blood. It rolled down his pale thickly muscled arms and dripped from his fingers. He dropped the body of the incubus and regarded Payne with narrowed eyes.

Payne flicked a glance down to Antoine and Sera. The aristocrat male was bleeding badly but he would live. He only needed time to begin healing, someone to clean the wound and some blood to speed the whole recovery process. Something told him that Snow was too far gone to register that. His brother had been injured and he had gone off the deep end, a beast with only desire for blood and violence, mindless with rage and driven by dark instincts. Not bloodlust. This was something else. Something far more terrible.

Snow lunged at Payne.

Payne brought both arms up and blocked his swipe, taking the hit on his forearms. He cried out as Snow’s claws shredded his flesh and then threw all of his remaining strength into his attack, slamming the flats of his hands into Snow’s chest and sending him flying across the stage and crashing into the wall on the right of the theatre. He fell in a heap and pushed himself up, and shook his head. Red tainted the white lengths of his overlong hair.

Snow growled and bore his fangs.

Andreu and Chica leaped on him before he could get up, trying to pin him down.

“Snow, listen to me.” Chica grabbed his hair and tugged his head up. “Payne is not your enemy. We’re good here. You hear me?”

Snow roared and reared up, easily shaking them off him. He stumbled to his feet and loped towards Antoine. Sera stared at him, tears streaking her cheeks.

Snow’s eyes verged on black.

They moved to Payne and then Elissa. She gasped and Payne felt her fear in his blood, felt the boy in her arms stir as her strength began to fade, her terror stealing it away. The wounds on Payne’s arms throbbed, blood rolling in rivulets down to his palms and dripping to the black stage floor. He shut out the stinging pain and the sense that he was weakening, focusing on protecting Elissa and her youngling. He wouldn’t allow Snow near her. He wasn’t in any position to fight the larger older male, didn’t want things to go down that route, but he had to keep her safe.

“Snow,” Antoine whispered, his voice hoarse and laden with pain.

Snow’s black eyes fell to his brother. He snarled at Sera and she shuffled backwards, giving him access to Antoine. Payne remained on guard, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding every inch of him, and his claws at the ready.

Snow collapsed to his knees beside Antoine and grasped his hand, rocking back and forth as he murmured words in a foreign tongue. Antoine swallowed hard and opened his pale blue eyes, fixing them on Snow above him. Snow’s pale eyebrows furrowed and he bore his fangs. Antoine shook his head a fraction but whatever passed unspoken between them didn’t stop his older brother. Snow opened his mouth and bit his own wrist, burying his fangs deep and tearing open his flesh.

He offered it to Antoine.

Antoine shook his head again and sounded weary as he spoke. “I cannot take it.”

Snow growled and it tailed off into a whimper, and Payne’s grey eyes shot wide when he clawed at his own chest, tearing through his black t-shirt and gouging deep gashes in his flesh.

Antoine grimaced and tried to sit up. Sera rushed to help him, kneeling behind him and supporting his back. With visible effort, Antoine grabbed Snow’s wrist.

“No, Snow.”

Snow didn’t stop. He whined and slashed his arms, his wrists, blood flowing freely. Andreu and Chica grabbed his thickly muscled arms, trying to restrain him. Payne helped them but Snow was too strong. He tried to shake them off, growling and whining, the sound harrowing as it echoed around the theatre.

Antoine grasped Snow’s hand and Snow stopped to look at him, a lost expression on his blood-streaked face.

“Calm yourself, Brother,” Antoine whispered and swallowed. “You did not do this.”

Snow’s face twisted in agony and he offered his wrist again, his entire arm drenched in blood now. It pulsed from the lacerations, dripping thick and fast onto the black stage floor.

The corners of Antoine’s lips lifted in a pained smile. “I will take it... there is no need to spill more for me.”

Snow moved his arm towards his mouth and Antoine closed his eyes and fixed his lips around one of the cuts. From what Payne could tell, he only took a little blood from his brother. Was he afraid that he would make Snow worse if he took more than a sip? Payne didn’t want to find out the answer to that question. Snow was scary enough as it was. He didn’t want to encounter Snow in a darker wilder mood than the one he was in now.

“All the pretty colours... do you see them... Aurora...” Snow rocked, his eyes locked on Antoine, and then tilted his head back and stared at the black ceiling of the theatre, his eyes glazed and face streaked with blood. “Come home with me... we can go together... don’t go away.”

Antoine looked at Chica, eyes swimming with pain and remorse, with sorrow. She nodded and glanced at Andreu, and he nodded too.