Once Prey, Twice Forsaken, Page 2

  She was right.

  ****

  Blaire wanted to take her words back. The momentary thrill she got by winning the argument was squashed immediately by the look of horror it put on his face. Her change wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault other than the vampire who made her.

  "David." She reached out and touched his arm; even over his coat she could feel his strength. She wished more than anything to have those strong arms wrapped around her. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said—"

  "You're right." He took a ragged breath. "If I had stayed with you...you might not be a monster."

  She pulled her hand from his arm, as though his touch burned her. Opening her mouth to argue, she paused then snapped it shut.

  She was a vampire. Her kind had tortured and killed countless humans in their quest to take control of the world. It didn't seem to matter that she'd been one of the innocents they sought to kill—surviving only through a genetic fluke.

  She looked back into David's eyes; his expression had lost its anger. He frowned and his eyes closed. Then he covered his face with his hands and sighed.

  Overwhelmed with the need to hug him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, she clenched her hands at her sides. She couldn't. She was a monster, and he was the man sent to put her down.

  "I may be a monster, David. But I could never hurt you."

  He looked like he wanted to argue with her, but turned away instead, staring into the night.

  A sharp noise pulled her from her thoughts. It sounded distant, but the oddness of it caught her attention. Not just that any noise was out of place in a practically abandoned city, but it sounded familiar. Mundane, but wrong. Shivers crawled down her back.

  David turned to face her. His lips parted, but then closed when he saw her expression.

  His silence didn't last long.

  "Wha—"

  Blaire put a hand up, not far from his face, straining to hear. There it was again. The same noise. The sound pierced her ears like nothing she'd ever heard, in spite of its familiarity, even at this distance.

  "There's something…" she whispered. "It's coming."

  He pulled his sword and knife from their sheaths in one smooth motion, then surveyed the area warily. "Where?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

  She pointed south. The sharp wail came again, much closer than before. Then more noises, following the first. Whatever made the noise didn't travel alone.

  "God, they're fast," she muttered.

  David nodded and moved between her and the opening to the alley. He took his knife and cut a small scratch on the side of his sword-hand. Wiping it on his necklace; he whispered a few words in a language she didn't understand. Greek maybe—or Latin.

  He must be able to hear them now.

  "Fast as vamps," he said, never taking his eyes off the alley entrance.

  "What are they?"

  "Varkolak."

  Chapter Three

  Blaire shivered when he told her what hunted them. Good, he thought. Being afraid might keep her alive.

  "Varkolak? The vampire dogs?"

  He nodded. "Some people call them that."

  "Anything I need to know before they get here?"

  He handed her his knife and pulled another from his boot. "They're fast—faster than your average vamp, and they're vicious. They'll look like dogs. Even small ones turn sometimes, but they're all strong."

  David heard them, wailing in the distance. They were close and judging by the sounds, gaining ground fast.

  "They wouldn't follow you if you left now." Testing her felt wrong, but he needed to know how far he could trust her. "They'll go for vamps if there's nothing else around, but they'll come for me first."

  She snorted. "They might kill you if you're alone. Hell, from what I've heard they might kill us both. In spite of what you think of me..." She sighed, swiped the air with his knife a few times, practicing. "I'm not a monster, David."

  Keeping his face carefully blank, he grunted. Maybe he could trust her. He wanted to, badly. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. The small cut was already healing. Had she really lost control, the damage would have been far worse.

  The thought made him want to turn around and take her back in his arms, then send her as far away as possible. But he had no choice. She was right. They had a better shot at staying alive together. If it was only his life he needed to worry about, he would have tried to convince her to leave without a second thought. But alone he might die, distracting the Varkolak for only a short time. They might still pursue her.

  He couldn't risk it.

  He studied her face in the moonlight. She was so perfect in his eyes, always beautiful to him. He wanted to trace her neckline with kisses, while his hands explored her body. He needed to finish what they'd started earlier, before he'd broken their embrace. Join with her and let life and its problems fall by the wayside.

  But he couldn't. And would never be able to again if they didn't protect themselves from the real monsters that hunted them.

  Suddenly, they appeared. The pack wasn't the largest he'd seen, but it wasn't a small one either. Six dogs, four of which were large breed. They were all mangy, with teeth sharper than normal dogs and an unnatural speed that could only be rivaled by old vamps or shapeshifters.

  Drool dripped from the closest Varkolak's mouth, a Rottweiler. The skin pulled back from its teeth, revealing long fangs that looked very similar to that of their vampire cousins. It growled, low and angry. The pack settled in behind the large dog, ready to move when it did. They looked hungry.

  ****

  Blaire gritted her teeth and clutched the knife tightly as the Varkolak closed in. They stayed in a group and moved in concert—working together in spite of their savage natures.

  "I've heard of them before—stories," she whispered.

  "Never seen them?" His eyes didn't move from the beasts as they approached. "Dogs are one of the few animals susceptible to the vampire virus."

  "No. They aren't useful to...us. Can't be controlled." She tightened her grip on the knife. "Vamps don't keep useless things around except for sport." Bitterness seeped into her voice.

  David cursed under his breath, and his face contorted into an expression she could only associate with pain. She wanted to comfort him, but didn't dare, not with the vampire dogs so close. Live first, comfort later.

  With a sudden burst of speed, the Varkolak attacked.

  David roared and charged them—meeting them before they could get to Blaire. Swinging his sword and knife, he cut through the first beast. Then another.

  Blaire's breath caught in her throat. He was magnificent. Fast—faster than any human she'd ever seen. Slower than the older vampires, but he made up for that with strength that rivaled any vampire she'd seen. Combined with his spell of protection and his razor-sharp blades, he was a one-man army.

  Strong and ruthless, he threw one beast off his back, while keeping another at bay with his blade.

  Her hero.

  ****

  David tossed a Varkolak off his leg and two others went for his exposed side. It was a small pack, but they were fast. Much tougher to kill than normal dogs. A few stabs weren't enough; the head had to be removed to be certain.

  Grimacing as he pulled what looked like a shitzu off his ankle, he glanced back at Blaire. Frozen, she stared at him and the dogs. He would be damned if she didn't look good holding that knife.

  Pain lanced through his arm as one of the larger dogs latched on—a Doberman. His protection spell was strong, but it had worn thin from the continuous assault. As he tried to remove the monster, pressure ran up his leg. The shitzu was back, growling and digging at his calf, even with the protection spell, the pressure from the dog's teeth turn to pain.

  Another Varkolak grabbed the arm the Doberman still clung to, forcing him to drop his sword. He stabbed at them with the knife, trying to ignore the agony shooting up to his shoulder.

  S
uddenly, the large dog that had been clutching his arm was gone. Through the haze of pain, David saw it fly into the wall next to him. A dull crunch echoed through the alley when the beast hit.

  As he jabbed at the remaining dog chewing on him, the pain abated from his leg. He saw a flash with his peripheral vision. Blaire stood with him, using the knife he'd given her to pry the dog from his arm.

  Fighting side by side, they eliminated the Varkolak one by one. His heart swelled with pride. She was stunning. The kind, shy girl he'd met all those years ago was gone—replaced by a warrior, beautiful and strong.

  He still loved her. There was no way around it.

  ****

  Battling alongside David gave Blaire a rush. Not the actual fighting—it was brutal, painful, difficult work—but she'd been useful. Without her help, he might have been cut down by the hounds. As it was, they were both bruised, but thanks to her quick vampire reflexes and his protection spell, bruises were the extent of their injuries.

  She dusted off her jeans, and watched David dispose of the Varkolak. Burning the bodies in a large fire seemed likely to bring unwanted attention, but fire on top of beheading would ensure the beasts didn't rise again.

  Shortly after the pyre started to burn, they headed away from the area, lest the dark smoke attract the attention of something even more dangerous than the Varkolak. David broke into a building a couple of miles away, a furniture store that had been abandoned since the Invasion.

  The store was dusty, but still fully stocked. Couches and coffee tables took up a large portion of the space. Dining sets and office furniture occupied much of the remaining room. Along the back wall, the beds rested.

  Apparently lost in thought, David watched her but said little. He studiously avoided looking at the beds, as did she.

  Munching happily on the rations David shared with her, Blaire refused his apologies for the quality of the food.

  "It's fine, David. I haven't eaten this well in...a long time." Grinning at him she added, "It's a good thing vampires don't actually need blood to live, or you'd look scrumptious right about now." She frowned. "I was half afraid you'd think I needed blood to survive."

  He shrugged. "I know vampires get power from blood, but they don't need it to live. Although the ones I've hunted lately don't seem ready to settle for a granola bar."

  "Well you do look more delicious than a granola bar." She smiled to reassure him it was a joke.

  He barked out a quick laugh, then his face sobered. "If you'd left me back there—"

  "Hush. I wouldn't leave you like that." Popping the last bit of granola bar in her mouth, her grin faltered. "I would never hurt you on purpose. I hope you know that. I realize you think I'm a monster but—"

  "You're not. A monster I mean. And I can trust you. I know that." He sighed, and got up from his perch on the dusty couch. "I should have trusted you earlier. But it's hard to trust a vampire."

  "After the Invasion. I understand." She dropped her chin to her chest and looked away. "You had no reason to trust a vampire."

  "But I had reason to trust you." She heard the shushing of his feet on the carpet, then felt his fingertips on her cheek, coaxing her face up so he could look her in the eye. "You're you, Blaire. The woman I fell in love with. Not some random vamp."

  Pulling away, she regretted the loss of his touch. It gave her comfort and made her want more. More of his touch, his kisses, his love.

  "But I am a vampire, David. A monster."

  He backed away from her, giving her some room. Exactly what she didn't want, but wasn't sure how to tell him.

  "You know vampires and witches used to coexist, don't you? We all got along quite nicely."

  The abrupt change in subject threw her off balance. "I'd heard things. Bits here and there that made me think this war isn't the normal state of things."

  "It's true. Actually we were allies. Vampires, witches. There are even a few shapeshifters around, though most of them died out."

  "Died out?"

  "They aren't as fertile as witches, and they aren't long-lived like vamps and witches are. They can't contaminate humans like vampires. Of course only a minuscule percentage of humans can be changed, but you knew that."

  She nodded.

  "We all used to be allies—except for a few squabbles now and then. We worked together to keep our presence hidden from humans, knowing if they ever found out about us they might decide we were a threat. A bloody war would seem inevitable then."

  He reached out and took her hand. The mere touch sent a thrill of heat through her body. She pressed him for more. "So what happened?"

  Tinged with bitterness, the wry smile he wore did not reach his eyes. "What always happens to start a war, of course. A man wanted more power."

  Heat started to build within her. How could such a small gesture make her feel this way? Control yourself, girl. Just because he's seeing you as more than a monster doesn't mean he still has feelings for you, she told herself.

  Evidently unaware of his influence on her, David continued his tale. "He started making new vamps in secret. He took out entire towns to gain a few vampires at a time in unstable countries, letting the blame fall to local conflict."

  Brows furrowing she asked, "But something like that would have been noticed—with the number of vamps they used in the Invasion, I mean. There were so many."

  "You're right. If he'd done it over a human lifetime, or even a couple of human lifetimes. But he didn't. He did it over many generations. He built his army over centuries. Maybe longer."

  "Longer?"

  "Even the Grand High Council—the leaders of the community of the Others, the nonhumans—didn't know what he was up to. He built the army under their noses."

  "Then the Invasion?" Gripping his hand, she tried to imagine the kind of patience and focus a person would have to possess to pull off a plan of that magnitude. Plotting such a diabolical plan, centuries in advance, seemed unreal—impossible.

  "No." One of his hands moved from hers and touched the hair dangling by her face. He pushed the stray strands behind her ear. "First he dealt with his own kind. The Grand High Council members. Through assassination and manipulation, he managed to secure a seat on the Grand High Council himself."

  Skin tingling where he touched her, she struggled to concentrate on his story. "But that wasn't enough for him."

  "No," he whispered. "It wasn't enough. But it got him close to the other council members. Close enough to kill them." Voice breaking, he gripped her hand tighter.

  "Almost two years ago?" she asked, heart sinking as understanding set in. "It was someone...close to you?"

  "My father," he said gruffly. "He held the witch's seat."

  His heartbeat resonated in her as she pulled him into her arms. "Oh David, I'm so sorry." Pulling back a few inches to look him in the eye, she asked, "That's why you left, wasn't it? Why you left me, right before the Invasion."

  He nodded, eyes never leaving hers. "I wouldn't have, if I'd known—"

  Touching her fingers to his lips, she whispered, "I know."

  Very slowly, she raised her mouth to his. It started as a chaste kiss, soft, comforting. But, as soon as they touched she felt the fire between them.

  He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, wrapping her in his arms.

  The muscles in his back tensed under her hands; she basked in his musky scent. His hot body pressed against hers.

  Needing to feel his skin, she broke the kiss and stepped back.

  His eyes were hungry, and he watched her every movement as she pulled off her jacket, tossing it. Hands fisted tightly at his sides, it looked like it was taking all of his self-control to stay where he was, to stop himself from touching her.

  Giving him a mischievous grin, she pulled her shirt up and over her head. It blocked her view for a moment, and when she could see again he had already moved closer. Standing only a foot away, it was obvious the bit of control he managed was gone. He stared at her like a starving man
looking at his favorite meal, eyes dark and mouth set to a thin line.

  His gaze was so intense, she couldn't look away. Careful to avoid nicking his tongue with her teeth, she tasted him. He tasted like the orange drink he'd just scrounged up for them to share with their sparse meal. But it was his scent that nearly overwhelmed her. He smelled familiar, scent almost unchanged from college, and the smell almost made the harsh years disappear for her, if only for a moment.

  Chapter Four

  When Blaire flashed a wicked grin and pulled off her shirt, leaving only a bra to cover her breasts, it was all David could do to keep his hands off her. As he recalled how she'd bravely struck down Varkolak, hair flying and knife flashing, his breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful.

  And she was his.

  It was something he knew, down to his core. His muscles tensed at the thought of losing her again and he took a deep, ragged breath to calm himself. No, he wouldn’t let her go. Never again.

  She took his mouth again, and he shuddered. He touched her softly, along her arms and back, avoiding the places that would drive him over the edge. He needed to show her how he felt before taking his own pleasure.

  Blaire pulled at his shirt, making impatient noises. He helped her pluck the soft cloth over his head, then gasped when she caressed his bare skin. Tracing her fingers over his chest, she smiled at his reaction.

  She seemed satisfied that she had the upper hand, her hands moved with more certainty. Down his ribcage, over his hard abs, lower.

  When she rubbed her hand gently across his still-confined erection, he groaned and pressed himself against her, the small touch almost pushing him over the edge.

  He lowered his lips to hers, taking her mouth roughly, enjoying the sensation of her rubbing him through his jeans for a few more moments, then he pushed her hand aside and pulled her body next to his.

  She softened and leaned into him, a small moan escaped her lips. Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra.

  "I need you, David. Now."

  Without hesitation, David carried her to one of the beds in the back of the store.