Poking the Vamp (Knight Protectors #3) (13 page)

It also sought what the protectors searched.

…king of many, conqueror in life and in death.

King Arthur. The creator of the Knight Protectors. Their original sovereign. The only one who could defeat the evil that threatened the world.

The One had come, and he was on the hunt.

She was shown something else, something that would save her mate. Something that would end this immediate threat.

Kate had to get rid of the heat, give the element an outlet. One that wasn’t her mate.

She had one person in mind.

So when Jemshir’s eyes blazed and then narrowed, his gaze intent on her and Joce, she did exactly as the salamander showed her. Because that was when Jemshir rushed them, midnight smoke swirling around him, darkness consuming him like a deadly cloak. Kate threw off Joce’s hold and shoved, gratified by the fact that this new blaze and her vampire worked as one. She allowed Jemshir to come close, to reach for her, his arms outstretched as he attempted to strike her.

Attempt because she hit him first. She grasped his throat with one hand while she placed the other over his heart and then she
pushed
.

Pushed the fire.

Pushed the heat.

Pushed the pure anger that burned hotter than any flame.

Pushed her hatred.

Pushed her grief.

She gave him everything she had, releasing it in one heaving thrust until it filled him. He lit from inside out, the yellow glow gradually brightening to red and on until his flesh was consumed by blue.

That was when she released him, forcing him away until he struck stone. Now blazing blue eyes met hers, surprise and rage filling his orbs.

“You.”

One word. One single syllable that left his lips before she witnessed another body turning to ash, the blue consuming bone until Jemshir’s form folded in on itself and finally turned into a black mound of ashes.

Gone. He was gone.

Because of her.

A rumble shook the room, rocks falling from the ceiling, and she realized they had to get out. Now. She glanced at the corner where she’d last seen the salamander and found the space empty.

“May you burn the night,” she mumbled the well wish and then turned her attention to an astonished Joce.

“Kate—”

She reached for him and then stopped, her hands still glowing from the woman’s help. “Grab the witch. We have to leave.”

“Katherine—”

“Joce,” she growled. “Get the witch. The building is about to come down around us and I don’t want to be here if any of the One’s playthings come to find us.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she’d yelled at him or the sudden flare of fire on her skin, but he jolted into action. In one smooth move he was across the room, the woman in his arms, and they strode to the doorway. It shimmered and shook as if the instability of the room affected it as well.

“Go.” He jerked his head, urging her to go first, but she shook her head.

“If I go first, one of them will touch me. You need to go and warn them.”

Kate had no doubt someone would pull her close, yank her from the room the moment a hand appeared. She refused to hurt anyone.

He glared at her, jaw stubborn and eyes filled with anger and fear. “Katherine—”

“Go before we don’t have a choice and are stuck here.”

He pressed his lips together until they formed a harsh line across his face but finally nodded his head in agreement. “I expect you to be right behind me.”

Yeah, she did too. As long as the portal held.

Joce stepped through and she counted the beats, hoping he got the message across before she left the room.

One, two, three…

Kate stepped forward and prayed…

Only to find out Joce failed. The moment she stepped into the manse hands gripped her forearms and squeezing her tightly.

That was followed by a scream. Of pain. Of agony. Of… death?

No. It wasn’t death. Kate wasn’t killing anyone. Not exactly. It was a cleansing and a rebirth.

She met the gaze of her accidental captor—the witch who must have regained consciousness after leaving that evil place.

She saw her reflection in the witch’s gaze. Her eyes shifted from one color to the next, transforming slowly. Brown turned gold turned red turned blue.

It examined the woman, weighed and prodded her, searching through her mind and giving Kate the female’s secrets.

Then it waited as if seeking a ruling.

Good or bad. Life or death. Purify or purge.

Fire could do both—either—and it wanted to do as Kate bid.

So she granted the witch life. Purity lived in her soul, a driving desire to do what was right, to give thanks for life and protect it at all costs. The vampire had pushed the witch into a frantic struggle between right and wrong, between the desire to do no harm and the necessity for violence.

The witch was Kate on a magical scale and that tipped the balance fully in her favor.

“Live,” she whispered.

Then she prayed.

Joce never thought he’d willingly treat anyone other than his
fire
for the rest of his immortal life.

Yet here he was checking the witch’s saline drip and adjusting her pain medication. Here he watched her monitor while he wondered what she’d say when she awoke.

Her and Katherine.

His fire remained unconscious, glowing body resting on a nearby steel platform. She remained too hot for a needle to penetrate and he wondered if she’d melt straight through the table before she woke. She hadn’t yet, but he made no assumptions when it came to her.

The moment Joce and the witch stepped from the magicked room, she’d regained consciousness, fighting with him to put her down. He’d been unable to do anything but let her go, his worry for his fire overcoming his desire to hold the woman captive in his grip.

Then Katherine crossed and…

Joce had been the only one capable of carrying Katherine to the clinic while Warin managed the witch.

Warin, the quiet protector. The one who lived in the shadows and hardly spoke. Of all the males crowding the hallway, he was the first, the one to slip between the others and catch the witch as she collapsed. Faster than light through darkness.

Now they stood vigil. Waiting for the women. Waiting for answers.

The doors swooshed open and he knew without looking that Warin entered. The other vamp slowly came forward, steps audible to announce his approach.

“The witch still sleeps,” he murmured.

“Laila,” Warin corrected. “Guardian angel. It was why she was chosen by the Order for the job.”

It made sense. Witches put a lot of faith into names.

“Laila, then.” Quiet slipped into the space, wrapping around their bodies in a comforting embrace. The women seemed to emit comfort, caring… love. They were unmoving but it felt as if their souls filled the air.

It gave him hope they’d awaken. With any luck, soon.

Warin shifted in place, cloth rustling, leather creaking, and Joce knew what the male desired. He slowly rose from the chair beside Laila and made his way to Kate.

Despite the heat, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, the hotness emanating from her body no longer burning him, but simply granting him warmth. He’d become accustomed to the fire that licked her skin and he no longer recoiled with the sting.

“Hello, my
fire
,” he whispered against her skin. “You have left me alone for seven days. I would like you to return.”

She remained unmoving. Silent. Barely breathing yet full of life.

Joce settled in to wait, taking his seat while he reached for her hand and slid his fingers over hers. He enjoyed her warmth, allowing it to sink into him and burn away the chill.

“Laila still sleeps,” he murmured, ready to recount the days. He did the same each time he came to her, telling her exactly why he’d left her side. “The Order sent witches to purify the holding cell where Jemshir was kept. They do not know how it was done, but between Galla, Jemshir, and Laila, the doorway became a portal to a castle dungeon.

“We’re not sure where, but the witches tasted old magic—ancient magic. The search for the One is on hold until you two awake. Carac has called everyone in the ring home. Even Brom from Italy. I hear he’s bringing Adela and we all know she has that hot Italian temper even though she originates from Spain. I’m pretty sure she and Carac had a thing at one point. It’ll be fun to watch those two collide.” He reached out and ran his fingers down her arm, skin sparking with the touch. “You’ll miss it if you don’t wake up.”

Kate didn’t stir.

“I don’t know how to bring you back.” He slipped his hand beneath hers until their palms connected.

The next set of footsteps to approach were softer, the weight of the visitor much lighter. “I think I know how.”

Funny how everyone whispered around the injured even when others knew there was no chance the patients could hear.

He didn’t allow hope to enter his heart. He couldn’t afford the resulting pain when it failed. “How?”

“Blood.”

He shook his head. “That was the first thing we tried.”

“You,” Tory paused. “I think…”

Joce left his hand in place and turned his attention to Victoria.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I think she’s not her anymore. You know how I’m stuck? Between human and vamp? I think that, whatever that was, changed her. Materially, genetically changed her. I read…” she swallowed hard.

Reading was what Tory did. It was how she helped the ring and he’d learned to trust the words she discovered in their massive library. “I read that like vampires, elementals can be made. On the verge of death, when life balances on the precipice of light and dark, they can be granted immortality. I think that whatever that thing—”

“Woman,” he immediately interjected. He’d felt the female’s gender. “It was a woman. Older.”

“Whatever the woman did, it saved Kate by making her the same species, for lack of better word. Except she’d already been made something else once before. We need to tip the balance back in your direction.”

It made sense in its twisted, paranormal way.

“How close to death do we have to take her?” He knew the answer, every vamp knew how to bring someone over just as they knew that it’d earn them a death sentence if they weren’t permitted to Change another.

“I want to try the ritual without threatening her life first. At worst it won’t work. At best, it does and I don’t have to figure out how to nearly kill a half-elemental, half-vamp. As an FYI, I could not find those instructions in the library, so we’d be winging it.”

Yeah, he didn’t want to wing it.

“Okay,” he took a slow breath and pushed to his feet.

It took hardly a thought to bring forward a claw and even less time to slice into his wrist. He cupped her neck, thumb on her jaw as he forced her mouth open. He placed his bleeding wound to her lips and recited the words forever branded in his mind.

“I give you life on this eve of death. I give you joy on this brink of sadness. I give you eternity in this single moment. May the night welcome you with its dark heart.” He ignored Warin, Laila, and Tory’s presence and repeated the lines that tied their lives together. “May the fire in your soul burn away the midnight shadows. May the fire in your blood destroy all who threaten. May the fire in your heart tie us for eternity.”

Then he waited.

And waited.

And ignored the whispers between Warin and Tory as he waited.

Because…

The heat slowly retreated.

The yellow gradually dissipated.

The skin carefully paled to cream.

Then her fingers twitched. Followed by her arm.

Finally she breathed, sucking in air, eyes wide and filled with fear as they met his grateful gaze. And her eyes burned with bright flames.

She was awake. She was alive.

But was she still his?

##End of Part Eighteen##

##Part Nineteen##

There was heat in everything. Literally. Even vamps had a warmth within them whether they acknowledged it or not. It was there, simmering in the center of their bodies.

Kate wanted to touch it. Of course, reaching into their bodies and wrapping her fingers around their hearts was on her
do not ever, ever do
list, but that didn’t squash the wonder. Every time they walked past someone in the mansion, she stared at them, eyes tracing the path of the warmth. The vamps were the most tempting because they had so little to draw upon. She could brush a human and gather their heat, but vamps were different—weird, interesting, intoxicating.

A challenge.

They’d all decided, her included, that it was her vamp nature that drove her cravings. Just as she desired blood, she desired warmth, fingers itching to take whatever she could get her hands on.

For now, Kate fought to keep her heat absorption to lamps and the occasional jolt from an outlet. Well, it wasn’t heat per se, but the way electricity reacted to, er, other things. They would not discuss what
other things
she experimented with. What Carac didn’t know he was missing wouldn’t hurt him.

The wind rustled, bringing the scents of fresh grass and cool water to her nose. The water she could do without, but the warm breeze was welcome. She laid back against the soft ground and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun’s warmth. This was something else she’d become accustomed to. She was like a watch powered by the sun. She needed to get in a few hours each day—feed. She had Joce for blood and the sun for heat and all was still fucked in the world.

But she had Joce. She had to remind herself of that.

Joce who—she closed her eyes and sought him out. She could do that now, memorize a person’s heat signature and know where someone was without looking. It was how she knew Joce eased from the house and slowly padded toward her. It wasn’t until he’d taken a few steps on the grass that her vamp senses picked up his location.

She smiled, lips tilting in a small grin that widened the closer he came. When his shadow covered her face, she opened her eyes and met his stare. “Mate.”