Poking the Vamp (Knight Protectors #3) (10 page)

Her fingers dug into his flesh as she pushed against him, accentuating her words. “I get it. We all do the best we can with what life throws at us. You just got a little more than everyone else. Just… don’t shut me out. We can’t be together unless we’re together and I…” She grabbed his shirt and tugged him forward and he went without protest. “I’m cold without you.”

When she hugged him this time, he noticed other things about her. She was cold. Her skin was chilled to the touch and he discovered the fire that normally consumed him left him freezing.

Fear did this to her, to them, and he wouldn’t let it continue. He would—

“Joce! Katherine!”

He would go to his sovereign as demanded, but later, he’d mend the rift he’d created.

“Now!” Carac’s voice boomed through the house, reaching for them, and he didn’t miss the compulsion that accompanied the summons.

Yes, the compulsion was there, but the undeniable need to comply was… not.

Kate traced the veins on her wrist, sliding her fingers up and down her inner arm while half listening to the conversation flowing around her. Her talk with Joce whirled through her head, the new knowledge giving her a deeper insight into the vampire.

He’d had one purpose in life, trusted one person outside his family, and both were crushed as if they’d never existed. He lost his brother and his care for humanity in one blow.

Her mind was split, wavering between Joce’s past and their present predicament.

“Let’s be clear here,” Joce growled, the tone slightly different than before. She could gauge his mood by the roll of his growl and the rasp in his voice. Disbelief tinged with outrage and fury. “You want a doctor, a person who vowed to do no harm, to
torture
someone for answers. You’re serious?”

The others opened their mouths, but Simond answered. “Not someone, not a person, Jemshir.”

“He’s a sentient being even if we all despise him,” Joce snapped. “He still breathes.”

Simond shouted his response so loudly she thought he’d lose his voice. “Only because you will not let your fire—”

“I have saved your life in the past and I can just as easily end it, Simond Fitzroy.”

“
Enough
. Silence.” Carac’s words cut through the room and everyone immediately quieted. That hint, that subtle push to listen, nudged her but didn’t take hold. Everyone else seemed to be fighting some great physical restraint and yet Kate felt… nothing.

Maybe it was because she was so young? She felt like it was merely a suggestion. A gentle
gee, could you shut it?

Carac turned to Joce—to them. “I cannot order you to do this, but it is necessary.”

“She took a vow, Carac. You can’t mean to make her do this thing.” Joce’s muscles were tense, his hands tight, white knuckled fists.

Kate slid her fingers down his arm, forgetting her worries and merely focusing on the vamp at her side. “It’s fine, Joce.”

He hissed and turned to her, hands now gripping her shoulders. “It’s not fine. It should never be fine.” He gently shook her. “You made a vow to your people—”

“
We’re
her people now.” There was no missing the sneer in Simond’s voice.

Joce wasn’t the only one who had a problem with humans. He was over his prejudice, but Simond still had his own issues.

Joce snarled at the other male before returning his attention to Kate. “No one should ask this of you.”

She wasn’t sure how she ended up with Joce, but she’d thank God for him every day of her life. He was a snarly jerk, but he was
her
snarly jerk. He had integrity. He had a core of steel. He had patience even if it came with the threat of violence. He had a bone deep belief in her and was willing to support her choice against his fellow protectors.

“Tell me again. All of it.”

Everyone stayed quiet as she was told of the pixie king, Pinxton, and how he’d nearly killed Wren and her mate Griffin. Then of the way he’d come very close to doing the same to Tory. And finally of the way the daeva Jemshir—half god, half homicidal psycho—tried to dispose of Liam in the protector’s hidden rooms. A battle that ended with Jemshir their captive and a stained protector. Stained… tattooed… the result was the same. A twisting, twine of swirled lines decorated Liam’s arm from fingertips to elbow. Some of the symbols made sense, others didn’t. They were all from the daeva and no one knew what they represented.

No one had an answer as to what they meant.

Or what they could—would—do to him.

Then there was the prophecy…

The One was coming, only to be defeated by the king of many, conqueror in life and in death. Helped by one who walks in both darkness and light. Fueled by an immortal fire.

Jemshir knew what was to come. He’d controlled Pinxton to a point once before. The protectors wanted that knowledge
and
they wanted to know what lay in store for Liam.

“Before I make a decision,” she said slowly, ignoring the anticipation from the protectors and the glare from Joce. “I need to talk to Liam.”

No one—No. One.—was happy about what she said.

But she still got her way.

-ish.

Kate ended up talking to Tory while their snarlier halves looked on and glared at each other.

“Liam’s eating habits?” And Kate wasn’t talking about vegan enchiladas.

Tory—loud mouthed and who cursed heavily—blushed. “Fine,” she mumbled.

“No, not your sex life, I mean actual hunger. A meal. Not a sip when you’re, you know, getting it on.” It was Kate’s turn to blush.

They both turned to Liam as Tory spoke. “It’s been fine.”

The couple shared a look, one that spoke volumes while leaving the rest of the group in the dark.

Liam remained silent and Tory spoke once more. “Liam? It’s been fine, right?” His expression must not have given her the answer she wanted. “You would have said something if you weren’t. You haven’t been taking any more or less blood from me.”

Once a couple was formed, a vampire and his
fire
forever joined, they could only feed from each other.

There was no missing the frown that tilted Liam’s lips along with the regretful expression that filled his eyes. “Tory, I’m okay.”

His reluctance told them all a different story.

Tory shook her head. “If you’re hesitating, you’re obviously not. What’s going on? How can you hide anything from me? We’re together every hour of the day.”

“Except when you’re working,” the older vamp whispered. “And I can safely dilute your blood with a donor’s—”

Tory growled low, the sound filled with jealousy.

“I can dilute your blood with a
male
donor’s whose blood was taken through a vein. I would never betray you.”

“How could you do that?” Tory’s voice was hoarse and dry.

“Show me your arm.” Kate didn’t have time—Liam didn’t have time—to let the couple argue about how and why and what the fuck. Liam had dealt with the markings, the results, for over six months. It was time to see what she faced.

Liam reached for the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and tugged it up his body, exposing his taut abs. “It’s easier to take off my shirt than push up the sleeve.”

The move pulled a growl from Joce. He stepped toward the other vamp, fangs bared and hands curled into tight fists.

Kate did the only thing she could—she placed herself between the two vamps, her chest pressed to Joce’s. “Hey,” she cupped his face, drawing his gaze to her, “I’m your fire, remember? And I’m a doctor. They want me to do this
thing
. I need to be informed.”

Her throat burned, the idea of what they asked scorching her with anger and pain. Anger at the situation she’d fallen into and pain over the fact she was very close to agreeing. One change from human to vamp and she was ready to throw it all away.

Joce pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You do not wish to hear it, but I’m sorry. I don’t like you being near another male. I don’t like that you asked to see his skin.”

“You haven’t been around all week. I think Trewe and Tybalt hurt themselves on purpose just so they could strip and have me stitch them up.”

Another growl. “I will kill them. Slowly.”

“They were trying to cheer me up because someone was ignoring me.”

That had Joce flinching. “I’m…”

“Hush.” She pushed to her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. She couldn’t restrain herself. Not when he was so close, his scent surrounding her and those eyes boring into hers with a mix of jealousy and regret. “Let me examine Liam and then we’ll see what we can see, okay?”

At his nod, she turned to face the other couple. “Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing— Holy shit.”

Kate’s eyes bugged out. She immediately dug in her pocket for her spare set of latex gloves, instinct and training kicking in only to leave her empty-handed. She wasn’t at a hospital, but a million-dollar mansion. She wasn’t a human doctor worried about contracting a disease, but a vampire physician who couldn’t get sick.

That knowledge didn’t mean her fingers didn’t tingle as she brushed them over the stained skin. She ignored Joce’s gasp of surprise and Tory’s low murmured response.

“I heard it only went to your forearm. Maybe your elbow?” She raised her eyebrows and stared at Liam.

He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Well…”

“It did.” Tory’s hand trembled as she moved as if to touch her mate. “I just never paid attention to it. We’ve all been so busy with the Broken and we’ve made love but it’s been hurried and when we exchange blood he’s…” her expression held a firm accusation. “You always distracted me on purpose,” she accused.

Meanwhile, Kate’s attention was on her patient.

The markings went well beyond Liam’s elbow now, the darkness traveling halfway up his bicep, one long tendril sliding over his shoulder and inching toward his pec. She itched to touch him, to see if there was an altered texture, but she didn’t know what she dealt with, either.

“What tests have been run on it?”

Both halves of the couple spoke at once, but the answer was clear: not much. It was metaphysical—an injury from a half-god—what could tests reveal?

One thing she hated more than WebMD? Patients who pretended nothing was wrong and ignored the problem until it was too late.

Was it too late? She hoped not.

His symptoms included lethargy, occasional pain, increased thirst, rapid emotional swings, and aggression.

Everything a vamp shouldn’t ever experience and definitely not all at once.

Kate had a choice, she could break her vow to do no harm and force Jemshir to tell her what was going on with the One and Liam or… let him waste away and succumb to whatever plagued him.

Talk and more if it meant saving her new family, her new people. She looked at her own hand, tracing her veins once more, knowing the blood in her body would be like acid to the half-god. Knowing that she’d use it if she had to. They needed information about the One, it was important to stop their crazed opponent, but it was imperative that she help her new family.

“I want to examine Liam in the clinic. Tell Carac when I’m done, I’ll talk to Jemshir.”

Joce tried—God knew he tried—but he couldn’t let it happen. She said she understood his past. She was willing to work through it. Now she wanted to risk herself?

He wasn’t sure he could let her step past that solid door with its ageless enchantments, into a room with evil and chaos itself.

Joce eased from the room, leaving Katherine with Liam and Victoria while he sought out Carac. It didn’t take long to find the other protectors, each resting in their preferred spot within the library. They were scattered throughout the book-lined room, drinking or quietly talking with one another.

He spied Carac in his favorite chair, the appearance of relaxation wrapped around him like a cloak. Joce knew better, knew the elder vampire was consumed with anger and frustration at their lack of progress. Joce was the same, but could he risk Katherine? That question wouldn’t leave him.

“Carac,” he murmured and waited to be acknowledged. When he received a simple head tip, he lowered to a nearby chair. “Kate is willing.”

“Excellent.”

“But I have rules. I won’t allow her to be harmed.” He swallowed past the emotion clogging his throat. “I will not lose her.”

“Of course not.” Three words from the elder’s mouth; three words that made it sound like a simple task when he knew it was anything but.

Joce ran a hand down his face, searching out the right words. Because how had he forgotten about what—who—brought him into Katherine’s life? “The One wants him, Carac. Bad.”

Him
. The one vampire who could save them all from the One. The king of many, conqueror in life and in death.

“I would expect no less.” Carac’s agreement was immediate.

“You don’t understand.” He shook his head. “We never talked about Vinnie.”

Those ageless eyes settled on him. “That is correct. With the mess—”

“The mess I created.” He could admit to nothing less. He’d gone to Vinnie and that’d begun the violent spiral that was his relationship with Katherine and her estrangement from Galla.

Could he have fucked everything up even more? Probably.

“Has she talked to Galla at all?” He’d address Vinnie in a second. His
fire
came first.

“I’m surprised you finally cleared the selfishness from your eyes.” Carac didn’t have to call a male names to cut deep into his heart.

“Has she?”

“No.” Regret tinged the sovereign’s expression. “And with the difficulties between you and Katherine, I don’t find myself wanting to speak with the elder. Galla is sweet, but she’s—”

“Old.” Kate joined their conversation. “I’ve been chatting with Tory during the week. Helping her here and there.” Katherine gave him a rueful smile. “Who better to study and absorb than a doctor, right?” She tapped her temple. “Rapid recall and a penchant for memorization.”

Joce growled. “There’s more than that to being a healer.”

“I’m kidding,” she chided and slowly made her way to them.