Cursed (31 page)

His skin prickled with heat and then flushed cold with fear, alternating between the two as he stared down at her face, desperately hoping for some sign of life to appear.

“Please don’t be dead,” he whispered, smoothing back some stray strands of hair from her forehead. “I don’t want to live without you.”

Straining his ears, he listened for a heartbeat and was just about to press his ear to her chest when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that she swallowed. The relief he felt was better than any orgasm, better than any amount of Sienna’s blood coursing through his veins. If she lived through this, he vowed never to touch her again. He would much prefer a life where she was alive—even if it was for only another fifty to a hundred years—to one where she was dead.

But she still hadn’t moved. Apart from that one swallow, she remained lifeless. Had he imagined it? Before he could start the downward spiral back to fear and panic, she swallowed again and stirred, her hands moving up her body, headed for his arm. He didn’t stop her as she clamped her fingers around his forearm, holding tight—tighter than he would have expected someone who’d been next to dead only a moment ago. The very next instant, she was sucking at his skin—hard. So hard that he had a feeling there would be bruises when she was finished. Not that he cared. She could leave bite marks all up his arm if she wanted to. He was just glad she was alive.

No, not glad. Fucking ecstatic, but at the same time extremely pissed off at himself.

Why had he attempted this? Could he blame the tainted thoughts that had been going through his head or had it all been him? It was so hard to separate the two. The red haze he associated with them helped, but it didn’t always work. He couldn’t always tell when his thoughts were being skewed. He wondered once again why that particular human’s taint had been so strong. Was it because the evil had been so fresh in the man’s mind? Because the male had just finished with a victim? Could that be the reason?

Looking down at her as she feasted upon his vein, he hoped never to find out again. Not if it nearly cost Sienna her life.

How had he managed not to kill her? More importantly, could he have saved the lives of his former victims if he’d fed them his blood as he had Sienna? What did it say about him that he hadn’t even tried?

Forcing the uncomfortable thought from his mind, he focused on Sienna once again. She was alive and that’s what mattered now.

He wanted to let her drain him dry but was entirely too aware of the fact that if she did, he might just tap into her vein again and start a vicious cycle of feeding. And then there was Kobus to worry about. He didn’t exactly want to face his father drained of blood. He would need all the strength he could get for that.

Wrestling his arm from her grip was surprisingly hard—especially since she bit into him in an attempt to maintain contact. Wincing at the pain, he pinched a nerve in her neck, dropping power to her limbs and jaw in order to extract himself.

Thankfully she didn’t come after him again when he released her.

“I have an idea,” she said slowly, her voice a mere whisper. “Next time we do that, maybe you could hold your bleeding wrist to my mouth while you drink from me, instead of waiting so long to give some back.”

Greyvian frowned down at her. She wanted to do that again? After he’d nearly killed her? She really had no regard for her own life, did she?

Although, it was quite a good idea…

Shaking his head, he pushed the ridiculous thought from his mind and said, “Sleep. I’ll arrange for someone to give you more blood soon.”

She nodded sleepily and closed her eyes, falling immediately into slumber. Putting his fingers to her wrist, he found that her pulse was faster than it ought to be, but at least it was there.

Feeling better than he had a right to after what he’d done, he quickly dressed and left the room in search of Rayven. Out of everyone, he was the only one that could afford the blood loss at this time.

Unfortunately, wherever Rayven went, there was Xavior.

“Did you need a frypan this time?” Xavior asked with a knowing look once Greyvian had asked Rayven if he would please donate some blood to Sienna.

Ignoring the male, he spoke only to Rayven. “Would you?”

Rayven simply stared right back, his black gaze devoid of life or thought.

Xavior laughed as the silence dragged and then put him out of his misery by explaining, “He can’t answer that. If a question has anything to do with his own desires, he’s completely incapable of answering because he has none.”

Greyvian looked at the redhead with a frown. “How the hell does he function?”

“Barely,” Xavior replied dryly and then sighed, getting to his feet. “Come on Rayven, we’ve got work to do.”

Guiding the two males to Sienna’s room, he waited by the doorway as they entered, immensely disappointed when he noticed that her scent had completely disappeared.

“Jesus. Pale much?” Xavior said, casting an incredulous look back over his shoulder. “What did you do? Drain her dry?”

“Almost,” he admitted, his tongue made loose by the effect of Sienna’s blood.

The male raised an eyebrow, as if surprised Greyvian had answered, and then shook his head. “Well, at least you’re vampire enough to admit it, I suppose. Go on Rayven, wake her up gently and then feed her your blood.”

Without having to be told twice, Rayven knelt beside the bed and gently stroked Sienna’s cheek until she stirred and opened her eyes. Instead of looking at Rayven as she should have done, her eyes immediately found Greyvian’s—even though she should have expected that it was him stroking her cheek. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she had some kind of sixth sense when it came to his location.

“Drink,” he told her when Rayven bit into his wrist.

She opened her mouth and allowed the other vampire to press his wound against her mouth, but her eyes remained on him as she swallowed. Greyvian would have preferred to be the one feeding her, but he had already thought out the reasons as to why that was unwise. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling… something uncomfortable as he watched her feed from Rayven.

After a minute or two, Xavior tapped his brother on the shoulder and told him to stop. Without hesitation, the male lifted his wrist from Sienna’s mouth and then licked the wound closed.

Greyvian couldn’t look away from Sienna’s eyes. They were so blue they practically glowed in the low light of the lamp on the bedside table. There was no recrimination in them, no anger, and no fear—only a smile.

He really didn’t understand her at all. Not that his body cared. It was ready and raring to go regardless of the fact that she baffled the hell out of him. Not that anything was ever going to happen between them again. In fact, as soon as she was able, and Rafe got here, he was going to send the two of them away. As far away from him and Kobus as was possible.

*  *  *

Kobus was in a state. The search was taking too long. He needed the human found. NOW. Every minute of delay was another minute that the human could be spreading her resistance to other humans. Who was to say that she hadn’t already?

His body shook with fear and rage. The mere thought of that human out there was enough to have memories he’d thought he’d buried centuries ago coming to the fore like it was only yesterday.

He couldn’t have it. He couldn’t have it. She must be found.

Modern technology reached out and touched him with its piercing call and he almost leapt on the phone that sat upon his desk.

“Have you found her?” he asked, aware that his voice was shrill but unable to do anything to combat it.

“I believe I may have a lead,” the voice on the other end of the phone replied, saying nothing about Kobus’s emotional state. “Would you like me to check it out first?”

“No!” Kobus cried; his first instinct being to chase the lead himself so that there was no chance they could get away. “Text me the address.”

Hanging up, he slipped the phone into a pocket and went to gather his warriors.

20

The moment Sienna opened her eyes, she immediately wanted to go back to sleep again. Her head hurt, her body ached and her core temperature ranged from hot to cold like someone was turning a tap on inside of her. She felt so bad that she momentarily forgot what had occurred during the night. It was only when she rolled over and felt the evidence between her legs that she was reminded of how great sex could be with someone you were deeply attracted to. And it wasn’t just the sex, but the feeding too. Having Greyvian’s mouth at her neck, knowing that her blood was filling him with energy, with life, was an experience beyond anything she could compare it to. His need, his pleasure, emanated from his every pore and into hers.

Strangely, the memory that stayed with her the most was when she’d swallowed that first mouthful of his blood. It had been electrifying and soothing at the same time and spoke to a part of her, deep down in her soul. In comparison, Rayven’s blood had been kind of like a warm hug. It was so weird that vampire blood didn’t really taste like blood in the beginning. By the end of Rayven’s donation she had started to taste metal, but if she’d had her way, she would have drained Greyvian dry.

Feeling her body flush from hot to cold again, she pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and then had to throw it off a minute later when she got too hot again. She wanted to slide back into blissful unconsciousness, where her body didn’t hurt so much, but her desire to see Greyvian, to make sure that he was alright, forced her out of bed. He hadn’t seemed himself when he’d come to her; the simple fact that he
had
spoke volumes as to where his head was at. Not that she’d been complaining. She was selfish enough to take him any way she could get him.

Pushing herself off the bed, she took a moment to steady her spinning head and don some clothing before heading out in search of the male.

Weaving her way down the hallway, having to press a hand against the wall for support, she winced at how bright the light seemed. Pain stabbed her behind the eyes and her limbs felt weak and rubbery.

Almost dying could really take it out of you.

She found Jacob alone in the lounge room engrossed in the TV. So engrossed, in fact, that he didn’t even look up when she came to a stop in the doorway. No, not engrossed. Eyeing him for a minute, she saw that he was staring in the TV’s direction, but that his mind seemed to be off with the Fairies, his stare blank and lifeless.

“Jacob.”

Nothing.

“Jacob!”

Blinking a few times, he finally looked up and immediately frowned. “You look like crap,” he said, ever the honest male.

She hugged the doorframe and smiled ruefully. “Thanks, I feel like it.” She paused a moment and then asked, “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said with an unconvincing shrug. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

After a loaded pause, he said, “My new life.”

“Ah.” Didn’t that just say it all? “Have you seen Greyvian?”

His frown deepened and his voice was sombre as he replied, “Actually, no. He’s MIA this morning. Care to tell me why?”

Great. Greyvian was hiding. Which meant she’d never find him.

Sighing in disappointment, she shuffled over to Jacob and dropped down onto the sofa beside him, resting her head on his shoulder because she could no longer support the heavy weight by herself.

Jacob sucked in a deep breath and blew it out sharply. When he spoke, his tone was angry. “Your scent is gone.”

“Yes, yes, Greyvian drained me, he’s a very bad boy; can we focus on me now? I’m still alive, but I feel half dead. Make me feel better?”

His silence told her that he was still trying to control his anger over Greyvian drinking from her, so she gave him a moment to get it together before elbowing him in the ribs. Finally he sighed and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer for a hug.

“What can I do for you, my Queen?”

“I don’t know. I’d ask for your blood, but I don’t think that’s the issue.”

He breathed out like a wild pig about to charge and growled, “Oh? You mean the bastard actually gave some back to you.”

She nodded, ignoring his mood and said, “And then Rayven gave me extra.”

“Rayven?” Jacob asked and gave a mock shiver. “That guy gives me the Wiggins. Have you looked into his eyes? There’s nothing there. Creepy.”

She snuggled her head into the warmth of his chest and said, “It’s not his fault. He came over wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

She told him what Xavior had told her and then extrapolated a bit. “I get the feeling the two were very like-minded and close when they were human, but now…”

“Now his brother is a zombie. Shit. That sucks.”

“I tried to offer him my blood, but Greyvian didn’t like the idea.” Reminded of her offer, she made a mental note to try again before they left, especially since the male had given his blood to her when she needed it.

“You think it would help?”

She shrugged and shivered as a wave of cold swept through her. “It’s worth a try. Don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Jacob replied noncommittally, pulling her closer to the warmth of his body and touching the backs of his fingers to her forehead at the same time.

“Fever and chills. This is not good.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days,” she replied, brushing the concern in his voice aside.

“I hope so. It can’t be good to lose as much blood as you have lately. Who stopped him this time?”

“No one. He stopped himself,” she replied, only now realising the significance of that. Was it because she meant something to him?

Jacob seemed likewise amazed, or perhaps, incredulous as he said, “He stopped himself? He who claims he can’t feed without killing, stopped himself?”

“I know. Amazing, right?” But he’d come damn close to killing her. Any longer and she wouldn’t be alive right now. She’d been so lacking in blood she’d felt as if she’d actually had an out of body experience. As if she’d floated above herself and seen how distraught he was that he’d almost killed her.

But that had to have been a product of her imagination, surely?

As if thinking about him conjured him up from out of thin air, Greyvian was suddenly standing in front of them and Jacob was talking to him—which led her to believe that she must have fallen asleep.

“…keep your damn fangs to yourself. Now she’s sick because of you.”

Looking up into Greyvian’s beautiful grey eyes, she was disappointed to see that his expression was neutral. His emotions were in hiding again. Damn.

“It won’t happen again,” he told Jacob, but she knew the message was more for her than for her best friend.

“Yeah, I reckon that’s what you thought the last time, wasn’t it?” Jacob retorted.

“Regardless, it won’t be up to my control any longer,” Greyvian replied calmly. “As soon as Rafe gets here, the two of them will be leaving for some place far from here.”

“What?” Jacob asked, incredulous.

“What?!” Sienna exclaimed, sitting up in outrage. Her head spun wildly, but she managed to focus through it, keeping her glare in place in the process.

“Keeping you here is foolish,” he replied, unfazed by their reaction. “You will be safer with Rafe. Safer as far away from my father—and me—as you can get.”

“I don’t want to be safer,” she replied. “I want to be with you.”

Something flashed in his grey eyes that she would have liked to explore further, but at just that moment a male she’d never seen before came into the room, followed by Knox.

“Guess who’s finally here?” the blonde said dryly, oblivious to the tension in the room. “And just in the nick of time too, if what he says about seeing your father and a bunch of his warriors hiding in the forest is true.”

Greyvian closed his eyes briefly and then turned to the new male. “How many?”

“We’re evenly matched,” the newcomer said, his husky voice and American accent perfectly matching his rough features. “There are fifteen warriors plus your father stationed at various vantage points around the manor. All of them armed to the teeth, of course. I hope you have enough guns and ammunition to cover us.”

Greyvian nodded and then cursed. “I really wish you had gotten here sooner.”

The male smiled slightly. “I’ve been here for days. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you would have realised that. You even ran past me a number of times.”

He looked at her then, his light eyes curious as he took her measure. “This is the human? She looks ill. What did you do to her?”

“Fuck. What
did
you do to her?” Knox cursed, finally noticing.

“I’m fine,” she replied, wishing they wouldn’t talk about her like she wasn’t there.

“You’re obviously not fine, and your scent is gone,” Knox said, glaring at Greyvian in accusation.

Grey ignored the male and looked at Rafe, asking, “Is there any chance of getting her out of here?”

“In one piece? Not so much.”

He nodded, as if he’d known that would be the answer. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

They headed for the door as Jacob made to get up, but Greyvian dismissed him with, “Jacob stay with her. We’ll call out if we need you.”

Her friend sank back down. “Super.”

As they left the room, she felt ill in a way that had nothing to do with almost dying. They weren’t true immortals. They could still die. Yes, Greyvian was super-fast and could kick ass like nobody she’d ever seen, but he could still die.

Fear made her want to throw up.

*  *  *

I don’t want to be safer; I want to be with you.

Greyvian tried to think tactics as he readied himself for meeting his father, the seemingly unstoppable force that he’d run from for over a century, the male above all other males who wanted him dead without question, but the words kept echoing in his mind, pulling focus. They made him feel… happy. That elusive emotion he remembered vaguely from early childhood, but not one that had frequented him since.

Yes. He was happy she felt that way, but it didn’t change the circumstances of their situation. Even if they made it out of this thing alive, she would never be safe around him. Yet even with that knowledge, he couldn’t deny that the corners of his mouth wanted to curl into a smile.

He blamed it on the aftereffects of drinking Sienna’s blood.

Striding through the mansion, he once again tried to force his mind to the present. His father was outside with fifteen of his warriors and they wanted to kill Sienna and probably every other one of them for the crime of their birth. He knew without doubt that it would come down to a fight, but he also wanted a chance to save them all the bloodshed. If he could talk to his father, perhaps come to an agreement, nobody had to die.

Even if talking wasn’t his strong suit.

Without a word, the others followed behind him, ready to follow him to their deaths. It troubled him that they would, but he knew that each had their reasons. Reasons that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with their own sense of self-preservation.

Directing the others towards the weapons cabinet, he approached the door closest to where his father waited, checking and double-checking each one of his knives to make sure they were easily accessible. As the half-breeds loaded up, he was thankful that he hadn’t had to train any of them in the use of firearms before now, as he knew full-well that they could shoot with accuracy—especially Rafe. The two had met under pretty tense circumstances: Rafe believing that Greyvian, being a full-blood, was going to kill him. Rafe had been more into shoot first, ask questions later, as the tactic had proved useful for him in the past. If Greyvian’s reflexes hadn’t been so sharp, the bullet that nicked his right bicep as he twisted away would have ended up in his heart. The fact that it had hit Greyvian at all had been impressive enough that Greyvian had allowed the half-breed to explain himself before possibly being put down for good. Needless to say, the two had come to an understanding.

It was a good thing too, as Rafe’s skills would no doubt come in handy on a day like today.

Committing himself, Greyvian put his hand on the door handle and was about to push when Katarina grabbed his arm.

“Let me go first,” she said. “I’m fairly sure he won’t shoot me on sight.”

Nodding, he let her go past. Ridiculously enough, she had a white piece of material on the end of a stick—the proverbial white flag—which she stuck out of the door as soon as she cracked it open an inch. When there were no flying bullets, she opened it further and stuck her head out.

“Can we talk?” she called out.

There was no immediate reply, but he could hear the distant murmur of voices. One of them was a deep timbre belonging to his father. He would know that voice anywhere. It had haunted his sleep for well over a century.

Clenching his hands into fists, he willed away the sudden unease that crept into his mind. His father was not a tyrant. The male had even loved him once. Yes, Kobus feared humans, but he was an intelligent male and could hopefully still be reasoned with.