Blood Secrets

twelve



TASHA OPENED THE DOOR OF THE DUCK ’N’ COVER AND was greeted with a chorus of raised voices and drinks from the scattered regulars. She nodded and waved to them in turn as she picked her way through the tables to the bar.

The Duck ’n’ Cover was a popular bar located outside Jefferson’s city limits and therefore had no need to worry about noise ordinances when bands played. Housed in a converted cotton gin building, it featured a rusted tin exterior and a worn and uneven plank floor. The tables and chairs were all garage sale or flea market finds of differing shapes and sizes. Neon signs advertising the various brands of beer on tap clung to the exposed wall beams that supported the intricate open-framework rafters. The most distinctive feature, however, was the countless names and messages that had been written on every available and reachable space—walls, tables, bar, signs, and even the mismatched curtains covering the wavy-paned windows.

Tasha reached the bar and hoisted herself onto one of the secondhand bar stools. While she waited for the bartender, she checked the cryptic text message she’d received on her cell phone.

MEET TONIGHT, 7:00 AT DUCK ’N’ COVER. BRING JOURNAL.

The message itself didn’t concern her as much as it probably should. It was the number displayed as the message’s origin—12-29-1995, her daughter Maya’s birthday—that worried her most. She knew a trace would prove fruitless. Countless websites allowed text messages to be sent from false numbers. Staring at the number displayed on her screen, she wondered how much of her personal life, of Maya’s life, could her mysterious callers access?

“Hey, shug,” Dinky Kincaid, the Duck ’n’ Cover’s owner and bartender, greeted Tasha with her trademark smile. Drawn-on black eyebrows that arched too far up her forehead made her look as though her face had frozen in a scandalized expression. Short, round, and proudly displaying her ample cleavage, Dinky was a force to be reckoned with and few in the bar ever dared to cross her. She set a bowl of popcorn in front of Tasha and tilted her head. “You’re looking a little long in the face tonight, honey. Rough day?”

Tasha crunched a few kernels of the stale unbuttered popcorn and nodded. “Got a letter from my ex. He wants sole custody of my kid.”

Dinky pursed her bright red lips and shook her head as she began mixing liquids from different bottles. “My ex tried that once. He didn’t get very far though.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“Start with the one on the right.” Two shot glasses thumped on the bar in front of Tasha. “I shot him in the ass,” Dinky said with a wink.

Tasha’s eyes widened.

The other woman cackled and fluttered a pudgy hand against her chest. “Oh, Lordy! I’m joking. I hired a lawyer and took him to the cleaners. We wrung enough money out of his sorry ass for me to buy this place.”

Tasha picked up the first of the shot glasses. “Maybe I should talk to your lawyer.” She slammed the drink back and swallowed. The chilled liquid left an acid trail to her stomach, where heat bloomed and seared its way to the back of her throat. Coughing and sputtering, she grabbed the second glass and downed it. The heat dissipated. When she could speak again, she asked, “What the hell is that?”

Dinky smiled. “I call it a Bayou Bomb. Couple of drops of Tabasco in the first one give it a real kick.” She swept the glasses from the bar. “As for my lawyer, I don’t think he lives around here anymore, but you could probably track him down. Name was Caleb Lockwood.”

Tasha choked on her popcorn. Coughing, she beat her chest in an attempt to clear the obstruction. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She struggled for a clean breath.

“Lean forward,” a masculine voice instructed as a strong hand smacked her back a few times.

She complied and was rewarded with a dislodged kernel and fresh air.

“There you go,” her savior said. “Dinky, grab her some water.”

Tasha gratefully accepted the glass Dinky handed to her with a worried expression. She gulped the clear liquid. Her body rebelled and she returned to coughing.

A few more sharp pats on her back helped to ease the air back into her lungs. “Sip it.”

She sipped the water as directed and when she didn’t cough, she used one glorious deep breath to sigh in relief. “Thanks,” she whispered hoarsely and turned to her rescuer only to have her breath stolen away again by coffee brown skin and black eyes.

“My pleasure,” he said, flashing a lopsided grin. “Rueben.”

Her gaze slipped over his broad shoulders, down the muscular and tattooed arm. She weakly clasped his hand. “Tasha.”

“Well, take care of yourself, Tasha.” Rueben pushed away from the bar, still smiling. “And lay off that corn.”

Tasha nodded mutely, watching him as he backed away a few steps before turning and striding confidently toward the stage on the opposite side of the building. She saw him slap high fives to a few of the patrons along the way before hopping on the stage, where a band had begun to set up their equipment.

“Dinky,” she called and waved for the older woman to join her. “Who was that guy?”

Dinky looked toward the stage and sighed. “Rueben—I don’t know his last name. He plays drums for one of the bands that comes through here once in a while.”

“Does he live in Jefferson?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t see him in here except when his band is playing.” Dinky removed the popcorn bowl and wiped down the bar. “Can I get you another one of them Bayou Bombs, honey?”

Tasha nodded, her eyes trained on the stage. Whomever she was to make contact with here was running late. At least she would have something to occupy her until they showed.

“Rueben,” she whispered, liking the warm feeling saying his name gave her, and settled in to wait.

Alex’s leg caught an unseen corner as she exited the bathroom and pain sliced across her shin. “Ow! F*cking hell!”

“Steady,” Varik muttered. His hands settled at her waist, keeping her upright.

After leaving the hospital, he tried to convince her to spend the night at his apartment, but she insisted on returning to the hotel and checking on Dweezil. She also thought she’d be safer in her hotel room, having lived there for weeks and being familiar with its floor plan. The throbbing pain in her shin told her otherwise. “I hate being blind.”

“You’ll adjust in time.”

“I don’t want to adjust. I want to see, damn it!”

He slipped his arms around her, pulled her against him, and nestled his chin on her shoulder. “You will, baby, but until you can, you need to relax a little and let your other senses take over.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one stumbling in the dark.”

“I said I would help you.”

“Aside from keeping the bond constantly open so I can see through your eyes, what can you do, Varik?”

“Make you more aware of your surroundings by heightening your other senses.”

“How?”

Warm breath prickled her flesh as he sighed. A wash of sandalwood and cinnamon enveloped her and made her pulse jump. Soft lips traced the scar along her neck. Alex inhaled sharply and shifted her stance, exposing more of her throat to him.

Fingertips replaced his lips, featherlight as they explored the length of her scar from collarbone to ear. He pulled her earlobe into his mouth, grazing her flesh with the tip of one fang.

She shivered as his hands cupped her face. “Varik—”

His mouth slanted over hers and his tongue raked across her lips, demanding entry.

She opened to him and his tongue curled around hers. Fangs grazed her lower lip, teasing her with their points until her knees threatened to give way.

Alex drew in a breath when he broke the kiss. “Varik, I can’t—”

“Shh,” he hissed, pressing a finger to her lips.

She opened the blood-bond. We shouldn’t—

He closed the bond, sealing himself away, and kissed her forehead. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded.

“Then shut up,” he murmured, recapturing her lips.

Alex twisted his hair around her fingers as they kissed, while his arms encircled her waist, holding her tightly against him as he lifted her and spun.

He pinned her against a wall, pressing close. Jasmine and vanilla mingled with sandalwood and cinnamon and set her mind spiraling into a series of memories and half-formed fantasies. His hands trailed up her arms and gently pulled her hands away.

Her pulse jumped again as he held her arms above her head, moving his kiss from her lips to her neck. Fangs grazed her scar and she moaned from a combination of anticipation and anxiety. Lips sealed over the slick mark, and his tongue danced along its edges. She inhaled and muscles tensed along her shoulders, her body’s way of preparing for the bite to come.

Cool air rushed over her, jolting her to reality and the awareness Varik no longer held her. She stood in darkness with her back to a wall, her arms still over her head, and her pulse racing.

“Find me,” Varik whispered from somewhere to her left.

“What kind of sick game are you playing?”

“No game. Now find me.”

“I can’t f*cking see,” she snarled.

“That doesn’t matter.” His words drifted up from her right. “You have other senses. Use them.”

She opened the bond and winced as he slammed the connection closed.

“That’s cheating,” he taunted, his voice and breath inches from her face.

Alex jerked away, startled. “Goddamn it, Varik! You said you’d help me.”

He pinned her against the wall once more. “I am.”

“How is this helping me?”

His fingers trailed along her arm and left prickled flesh in their wake. “Consider it motivation.”

“Seems like foreplay to me.”

A grin lay behind his words as he spoke, moving away again. “You know what they say—all work and no play makes for really boring sex.”

She pushed off from the wall, following the soft sounds of his footsteps on carpet. “What makes you think I’m going to sleep with you?”

“Sleeping isn’t what I had in mind.”

Alex spun as his voice issued from behind. She was certain he’d been in front of her. How was he moving around her so quickly and without her hearing him move?

Arms wrapped around her waist and his body molded to her back so she felt all of him. “You’re thinking too much, ma poule. Stop thinking and trust your instincts.”

“Right now my instincts are to turn around and beat the shit out of you.”

“It’s a start.” He laughed and released her with a playful swat on her butt cheeks.

She yelped, whirled, and reached for him but found only emptiness. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.”

More laughter followed another smack to her backside. “I eagerly await your reprimand, if you can catch me.”

Alex inhaled the familiar scent of sandalwood and cinnamon that permeated the room. Another quick breath and she noticed a fresh waft to her right. She moved in that direction and was rewarded with the faint sound of retreating footsteps.

“You may be better at this than I initially estimated.”

She smiled, following the stronger trails of his scent. “Don’t tell me the big bad Hunter is afraid of a blind woman?”

No taunt answered her as she crept along, using the wall as a guide. Her hand brushed against a doorjamb and the sense of a yawning void opened to her left. The trail of Varik’s scent was strongest here. Envisioning that he’d moved into what could only be the bathroom, Alex crouched beside the jamb, listening.

Only her own heartbeat and the soft whir-ka-thunk of the fifth floor’s ice machine in the distance filled the silence.

She rushed into the void and ripped through a soft barrier before crashing into a hard vertical surface. The force of the impact rocked her and made her stumble back.

“You’re still thinking too much,” Varik chastised to her right. “You’re also assuming I’m playing fairly.”

She rubbed the sore spot on her forehead where it had hit the wall of what she now knew to be the closet. The soft barrier she’d encountered became his discarded shirt, still warm from his body’s heat. Alex snarled and threw the shirt to the floor. “You’re being an ass. That much I know for certain.”

Thinking of the room’s layout as she faced the closet, she knew the exit would be to her left and the bathroom behind her. She extended her arm along the wall opposite the closet, following the surface until she reached the bathroom door and discovered it closed. She pressed her ear to the door and heard only the soft crunching sounds of Dweezil enjoying his nightly meal.

She followed the wall until she reached a corner. The sensation of open space stretching before her told her she’d come to the bedroom portion of the room. Waving both arms in front of her and taking tentative steps, she located the rolling chair in front of the desk, the dresser and flat-screen television, and finally the curtains covering the windows.

Varik’s scent grew stronger, more concentrated on this side of the room.

Alex paused and listened to the sounds around her. Elevator machinery whirred and beeped as the carriages passed different floors. Cars whizzed by on the street outside. Her heart beat out a stereo rhythm in the relative silence.

Excitement zinged through her as she narrowed her focus on the heartbeat. Her heart wasn’t beating twice but two hearts were beating in synch. A smile pulled the corners of her mouth and she whirled, her hands rising to press against the warm and familiar solidity of Varik’s bare torso. “Gotcha.”

“Are you sure of that?”

A thin chain circled her neck and a weight thumped against her chest. Frowning, Alex reached for it. Her fingers recognized the well-known edges of a faceted teardrop, flanked by two smaller drops, and the smoothness of a metal band still warm from where it had been nestled against his skin. It was the engagement ring she’d returned six years prior. “Why are you giving me this?”

“To illustrate a point,” Varik answered from her left. The sound of springs compressing under weight, the rustle of clothing, and the change in direction of his voice signaled he’d sat down. “Even when you believe you’ve cornered your opponent, you can’t let down your guard. He can still distract you and get away.”

She moved toward his voice, clutching the ring in one hand and searching for him with the other. Her fingers laced with his as he pulled her close. “I understand what you’re saying, and I know why you chose to use this as your demonstration but I can’t keep it.”

He stopped her when she raised her hand to remove the chained ring. “Listen to me.” He drew a breath. “I’ve lived my life surrounded by death. I’ve seen and done what many would consider to be terrible things, and there are few I regret.”

Alex waited as he gathered his thoughts before continuing. Varik rarely opened up to her about his past. Huge chunks of his life were a mystery to her while her past was openly debated in the public domain.

“Today, when we were separated in the Shadowlands, I thought I might truly lose you and it frightened me.”

The tremor in his voice felt like a knife twisting in her heart.

“My biggest regret is letting you walk away from me—from us. I know you’ve resisted talking to me about what happened because you’re afraid the Tribunal is going to find you guilty and we won’t have a future.”

“Varik—”

“I don’t care how long we have, Alex. Whether it’s weeks or centuries, it doesn’t matter to me. I want to know you feel the same way. I want to know you’re mine. I want to know you forgive me.”

Alex hesitated and then released her hold on the ring, letting it fall against her chest. Her free hand brushed his cheek and she was surprised to find it slick from tears. “I do forgive you, Varik.”

His arms encircled her waist. He buried his face against her stomach.

“And I am yours.”

A bone-weary sigh racked his body.

Her hands settled on his shoulders. “But I can’t wear—”

“No,” he whispered, tightening his hold and moving his head so she knew he was looking up at her. “Wear it. Just for tonight.”

“Varik—”

“Please. For me.”

Alex couldn’t speak as her throat closed with emotion and she nodded.

Varik slipped his hands up her spine and leaned back, pulling her down on top of him. Thank you, he whispered in her mind.

She shivered as the desire and longing he felt poured over the blood-bond. Any response she may have voiced was lost when his mouth closed over the scar on her neck, teasing her with the scrape of his fangs and the quick feathery strokes of his tongue.

Images flashed across the bond. Memories of their life together in Louisville. Dreams of a future that never came to be. With these came a fragile hope that the future they’d once envisioned could still be possible. The bond laid bare all the emotions and desires Varik couldn’t express in words.

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as her own desires for reconciliation echoed his. Years of bottled shame and anger exploded and burned within her, leaving only sorrow and regret. She closed her eyes in a vain attempt to keep her tears from showing.

“Don’t cry, baby.” Varik wiped each one away. “J’allais mourir un millier de morts à garder vos larmes.” He kissed first one cheek then the other. “I would die a thousand deaths to keep your tears away.”

A new emotion rose within her, flooding the bond, feeding their shared hope, and chasing away the momentary sorrow she’d felt. Her hands slipped between his head and the bed, and her fingers knotted in his hair as she kissed him with a passion she hadn’t felt in years.

He returned her kiss with equal fervor, rolling them both on the bed until he lay stretched beside her. They separated only long enough for Varik to slip her shirt over her head.

When she attempted to unfasten his belt, he swatted her hands and she hissed in protest. “Not yet, chérie,” he murmured. His hand slipped over her stomach, followed by his lips. Her flesh prickled when his breath blew over it in puffs as he spoke. His voice changed, dropping in pitch and carrying a seductive promise. “I intend to take my time with you.”

“What happened to you eagerly awaiting my reprimand?” she demanded, not wanting to wait. “I did catch you.”

“Yes, and I also got away so your argument is moot, ma puce.”

“You cheated, and what did you just call me?”

He surged forward, silencing her with a deep kiss that stole her breath. One hand cupped her face while the other deftly removed her bra.

She sucked in air while his lips and hands left a blazing trail down her neck to her exposed breasts. Though darkness ruled her vision, the sensations she felt as he varied his touch from featherlight strokes to more demanding as he silently guided her into position overwhelmed her.

Her fingers raked through his hair and she whispered his name while his mouth clamped over one swollen nipple, his tongue alternately flickering over its surface and lazily circling the hardened flesh.

He slid down the bed. His hands and mouth exploring her flesh and making her entire body tingle.

She chewed her bottom lip when he reached the top of her jeans. She drew in a sharp breath as his hands worked the button loose. A barely audible moan escaped her lips, lost in the sound of the zipper being pulled down. She shivered with anticipation as he first slowly slid the heavy denim off her hips and legs and then her soft cotton panties.

Varik shifted his position so his partially clothed body tented her naked form. His fingers traced the curve of her lips. “If you want to stop, tell me now.”

Alex captured his hand in hers and guided him to the throbbing sensation centered deep between her thighs. “Don’t stop.”

An animalistic growl issued from him as he kissed her and his fingers slipped inside her. He rubbed her *oris with practiced strokes while he drank in her small cries of pleasure.

She protested when he moved away, leaving her exposed to the room’s cool air. Her objections turned to gasps and moans as he settled between her thighs, darting tongue replacing deft fingers. As he explored her innermost areas, electric currents zinged over her skin and along her spine. A pressure built in her loins and her breathing turned ragged as he merrily led her to the brink of wondrous oblivion.

He moved away at the last moment, and she snarled her frustration. Varik laughed, deep and throaty, as he kissed his way up her stomach to her breasts. “I’m not letting you off so easily, chérie. After all, I have six years to make up.”

“In one night?” she puffed.

Varik hesitated before giving her left nipple a teasing scrape with his fangs and a flick of his tongue. “I may need to rest in between our sessions, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

Alex laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. She kissed him and savored the smell of their combined scents. She reveled in the electric tingle she felt as the smooth plane of his chest glided over her breasts.

He used his long legs to open her thighs wider. Somehow he’d managed to remove his jeans without her notice. One hand slipped under her hips, lifting her to meet his slow thrust as he entered her.

She gasped from the multitude of sensations that exploded within her and unexpected words tumbled from her lips. “I love you.”

Varik froze and a tremor rippled through his body. A hand brushed her cheek and breath warmed her face. “Do you mean that?”

Alex bit her lower lip. She hadn’t said those words to him for a long time, despite his having said them to her repeatedly since arriving in Jefferson. Conflicting emotions swirled around her but one shone above all others, and she nodded.

“Then say it again,” he whispered.

“I love you.”

He flexed his hips. “Again.”

“I love you,” she rasped as he thrust into her.

He asked her to repeat it again and again, creating a steady rhythm until there was no more need for words. His low grunts and her soft moans became their soundtrack. As the pressure once again built in her loins, Alex clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her nails dug into his back and he responded by increasing his pace.

Thousands of tiny electrical pulses raced up her spine. She sank her fangs into his chest. Hot blood pumped into her mouth as she drew on the wound.

He groaned and thrust into her with a renewed speed and force.

Alex threw her head back and cried out with the intensity of the orgasm that rocked her. Fire seared every nerve ending in her body. Everywhere their skin touched burned and she never wanted it to end.

Varik’s fangs pierced her shoulder, and he buried himself within her for the final time as wave after wave of tremors swept through him. His mouth clamped around the wound, drawing her blood into him as he in turn gave a vital part of himself to her.

When the last of his tremors faded and the fire beneath her skin had been quenched, Varik rolled onto his side, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close. They said nothing. Everything that needed to be said had been voiced in their lovemaking.

Alex lay in the darkness that continued to plague her and listened to the rhythm of Varik’s breathing slow and level out with sleep. She silently fingered the ring hanging on the chain around her neck.

Her profession of love, although unexpected, was accurate. Her feelings for him hadn’t changed in the years they’d been separated. She truly did love him. She knew that now, but she wondered, with facing a possible death sentence from the Tribunal, was it too little too late?

Peter awoke screaming. Visions of Alexandra giving herself to the Dark One continued to play through his mind.

He slapped the sides of his head trying to rid himself of the sight of Varik caressing her, kissing her.

F*cking her.

“No!” He bolted from his bed and ripped open his door. He stormed down the second-floor hallway toward the master bedroom.

Each specially crafted Alexandra replica doll—one for each year of her life—stared at him from behind their glass enclosures. Whispers and moans filled the air, tormenting and taunting him.

He opened the hidden door to his attic sanctuary and rushed up the stairs. The smell of blood lingered in the windowless space. Sinking to his knees in the center of the circle, he pounded the wooden planks with his fists until his skin split and left bloody smears on the cracked boards.

“Why?” he whispered to no one.

No answer came.

Peter retraced the ritual steps in his mind. The offerings. The incantations. The sacrifice. Everything had been performed correctly and yet it had failed.

Again.

“Why does she still go to him?”

He’d entered a trance as he had done so often, desiring to see Alexandra, wanting to know if the ritual had yet taken hold. Using a doll that had been a favored toy of hers in childhood as a focusing object, he sent a ribbon of his consciousness to her. He’d performed the same action countless times to observe her, learn of her likes and dislikes, and share in her joys and sorrows.

But this time, he discovered her in mid-coitus with Varik. Peter was horrified that she would still give herself to him, a clear signal that the ritual had failed, and yet entranced by the beauty of her naked form as she writhed in pleasure. He’d been unable to look away.

Rage consumed him as he sensed all his carefully laid plans slipping away. She was slipping away.

“No,” he snarled. “She’s mine.”

He would take her.

He would make her love him.

She would be his.

Forever.