Authors: Michelle Rowen

Tags: #Fiction, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Horror, #Occult & Supernatural

Bloodlust (5 page)

BOOK: Bloodlust

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“Fuck,” he snarled and finally pulled out of me. He pushed back from the bed, staggering back a few steps, then tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them up.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s—” His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked painful. He grabbed hold of either side of his head. “Fuck!”

Then he raised his still-black gaze to mine again. Mixed with the rage there I could have sworn I saw hate. His hands became fists and he moved toward the bed again.

Panic clutched at me. He looked ready to kill.

I scrambled back, falling right off the bed, and landed hard on my ass, then crawled backward from him as he drew nearer. I held a hand up. “Declan, try to think. Something bad’s happening and this isn’t you.”

“This
is
me.”

“What’s going on? Please tell me. I can help you!”

“You can’t help me. This is
because
of you. My need for you turned into
this
. You don’t know what’s going through my head right now. You wouldn’t like it very much.”

I didn’t need to know for sure. I could see it. He wanted to tear me apart.

He swore and came at me fast, his bare arms flexed, showing taut, sinewy muscle.

“No, Declan, don’t—” A scream caught in my throat. I was certain he was going to hit me, but instead he plowed his fists right through the wall, above where I was pressed up against it, reducing the drywall to a splintered crumble.

His breathing was erratic, his face only inches from my own.

I shook with fear, afraid to touch him, afraid to move. “What is this?”

“I can’t touch you, Jill. Not again. Not like this. Not even when it’s all I fucking want in the world.”

Before I could say anything, and I wasn’t even sure what I could say, he grabbed his shirt and left the motel room, leaving me there alone, naked and shivering on the floor.

My blood might not kill a dhampyr. But it made him want to kill me.

AN HOUR LATER, DECLAN HADN’T RETURNED. IT GAVE me way too much time to worry about what had happened.

It was like a stranger had been looking out at me through his eyes. While he and I didn’t exactly have a long history together or, for that matter, anything in common apart from our current on-the-run predicament, we had an understanding, both spoken and unspoken.

He’d chosen to leave the government-funded research compound to accompany me. To protect me. To ... be with me.

A lot of money had been spent developing Nightshade. The person who’d created it hadn’t left any written notes behind; the formula was entirely in his head.

I shivered and pulled my thin sweater closer to me as I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the door of the motel room, waiting for it to open.

It was my blood that had set him off. Declan was affected by it—his vampire side was. My blood wouldn’t kill a dhampyr, but it would weaken him—we learned that lesson when a scientist we’d gone to for help had used it against Declan to try to kill him. The scent, however, now triggered his bloodlust.

It might be true that he was an assassin who’d killed countless vampires in his life, but he would never deliberately hurt me. Once I’d gotten used to him and his fearsome appearance, I knew this for a fact. I felt safe with him.

However, I hadn’t felt very safe an hour ago. I’d felt scared to death—for him and for myself.

I paced back and forth in the small motel room between the bathroom and the window, so many times that I practically wore a line in the carpet. I went to the window and peered outside at the dark and nearly deserted parking lot, a million questions racing through my mind. Where had he gone? Was he okay? Was this—whatever it was—going to wear off? Get worse? Hurt him?

I tried to think about something else because this was eating me up inside. My mind wandered back to being at the bar and reading the newspaper. My picture, my sister’s plea for help. She had no idea what had happened to me that day—a day that was still crystal clear in my memory.

I remembered the chemist—the
para
chemist, since he dealt in formulas meant for preternatural uses—who’d grabbed me and put me between him and Declan. Declan wanted the prototype formula he’d had. It was only in its initial stages. One sample. And it had been injected into me.

My sister knew nothing about this. She might have seen some security camera footage of the hostage situation, the standoff between Anderson and Declan, but she’d have no idea how it had turned out. Just a fleeting image of me running away and being pursued by a large, scary-looking man with a gun who’d just shot someone in the head and left his dead body bleeding on the lobby floor.

With a shaking hand, I picked up the motel phone and held it to my ear. I pecked out the numbers and waited as the phone rang once, twice, three times. Voice mail picked up and the familiar sound of Cathy’s voice brought the sting of tears to my eyes.

She lived here in Los Angeles. From where this motel was, her house was only about ten miles away. Despite speaking to her weekly on the phone and sending tons of emails, I hadn’t seen her or my nieces since Easter when I’d stayed at her house for the weekend. I missed her so much.

I opened my mouth to say something after the beep, but pressed my lips together. The silence stretched like bitter taffy until I lost my nerve and hung up. This wasn’t the time. And it wasn’t fair to just leave her a message that explained nothing.

The moment this was all over—if I found my way out of this mess—when I finally saw my sister, I swore I’d never leave again.

I leaned back on the bed, trying to ignore the huge rips in the mattress from Declan’s violent burst of rage. A bare spring poked into my back.

The next moment I sat bolt upright when someone knocked on the door. Declan wouldn’t knock. And no one else knew we were here.

Heart racing, I slipped off the bed as quietly as I could and went to the window to glance outside. I gasped. Matthias stood outside the door with his hand pressed against it, a half smile on his face.

“Jillian—” The eerie singsong way he said my name carried easily through the thin door. “I know you’re in there. Your blood . . . it calls to me even from a distance.”

Cold sweat slid down my spine.

He could smell me. It was a chilling thought. I guess I couldn’t exactly pretend that no one was home. However, I wasn’t about to swing the door wide open and roll out the welcome mat. The memory of what he’d done to me the last time we were alone spiraled in my head.

I hated this guy.

The erotic dreams I’d had about him since he’d disappeared in a fiery burst of ash were meaningless. I couldn’t control what my unconscious came up with.

“What the hell do you want?” I didn’t bother to raise my voice since I knew he’d hear me anyway.

“Let me in.”

“No, thanks.”

He sighed. “Open the door, Jillian.”

My hand curled into a tight fist at my side. “Why are you here?”

“To see you.”

“You saw me earlier.”

“Only for a moment.”

My shoulders tensed. “Declan will be back any minute.”

His pale eyes moved to where I peeked through the window and locked with mine. “Then we best hurry this up. I get the distinct impression he doesn’t like me very much.”

He was so insightful.

I shook my head. “Not a good idea.”

“I’m not planning on ravishing you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He looked way too amused by my protests. “I’ve brought you something.”

My guard was up. “What?”

He pulled a small leather case out of the pocket of his black pants. “Noah tells me you’ll need this soon. It’s a vial of fusing potion.”

My attention narrowed skeptically on the case. “Why didn’t he bring it himself?”

“He doesn’t know where you are.”

“But you do.”

He shrugged. “I followed you.”

“From the bar.” My fingernails dug sharply into my palms.

“Yes.”

“So that means you’ve been lurking around here for more than an hour.”

“
Lurking
makes it sound rather vile, Jillian. I was waiting for the right time to visit you.”

My stomach churned. The curtains hadn’t been drawn earlier. If he’d been spying on me and Declan when—

Well, he would have gotten an eyeful. My face grew warm with embarrassment, which led directly into a fresh burst of anger. I went to the door and opened it a crack so I could glare out at him and his smug expression. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I thought we already discussed this.” He put his hand on the door and pushed it open farther while I tried to stop him. He was strong. I wasn’t. He won.

His gaze swept the small room in an instant, resting on the shamble of a wall and torn-up mattress. His attention returned to me and he raised an eyebrow. “Having some fun to pass the time?”

I tried to keep a lid on my anger and eyed the case he held. “How do I know that’s the real thing?”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Sorry, no.”

“It’s real. I mean you no harm, Jillian, whether or not you believe me.”

I studied him for a moment, but couldn’t read his intentions. Finally I held out my hand. “Okay. Thank you for bringing it to me.”

He hesitated a moment before handing over the case. I was surprised he did so without further argument. I noticed there were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days.

“Feeling okay?” I asked.

“Who me?”

“No, the dethroned vampire king standing behind you.”

His lips stretched over white teeth until I could see the sharp tips of his fangs. In the movies sometimes they were able to retract like a switchblade, but in real life they were always there, sharp and ready to pierce their next victim’s flesh.

“I’m feeling fine. Although, I must admit, being this close to you still fills me with a difficult to resist need even knowing about your very powerful blood. It’s interesting to me.”

Unease continued to flicker inside me. “I guess I should be extra careful around you now. You could come back for second helpings now that you know my blood won’t kill you.”

Something unpleasant slid behind his eyes then, but I wasn’t sure what it was. “Maybe you shouldn’t have opened your door to me.”

“If I hadn’t, you could have broken it down. Vampires don’t need an invite inside people’s motel rooms. Do you?”

“No, we don’t.”

He didn’t look so well. I hadn’t noticed it at the bar earlier, I’d been too shocked at seeing him walking and talking that I hadn’t paid close attention. But he looked very pale, thinner than before, and those dark circles seemed strange to me, although I wasn’t sure why. If he was human, I’d say he looked sick.

“What do you want, Matthias?”

“You know what I want.”

“I’m not inviting you in here with me.”

His gaze flicked to the destroyed mattress. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Then—”

“I saw your picture in the newspaper today. Your sister is worried about you. I’m surprised you haven’t contacted her yet.”

I swallowed. “It’s not the right time.”

“Your little nieces will wonder where their aunt has disappeared to.” He grinned at my look of shock. “Not hard to find out information when you have a name and a city.”

“Leave them alone.”

“I wouldn’t dream of bothering them. I simply wanted to learn more about you.”

My face felt tight. I didn’t like him knowing about my sister and nieces. It felt too personal. “There’s really not much to know.”

“Where’s my daughter, Jillian?” Again the amusement on his face disappeared and he was all business.

A breath caught in my chest. “I don’t know. Don’t you believe me?”

“Look at me.”

I was tired and unprepared to deal with him tonight. The moment I looked into his eyes he captured me there immediately. It was like being instantly hypnotized. All of my fear and apprehension and anger disappeared completely. A warm and pleasant sensation flowed over my skin and I found I couldn’t look away.

He leaned against the doorframe. “That’s much better.”

“Damn you, Matthias.” It sounded much more conversational than angry now.

“I know you don’t like it when I do this.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“It can’t be helped.”

“It’s cheating.”

“There are other methods I’ve used to get someone to talk. Believe me, this is much less painful for you.”

BOOK: Bloodlust

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