Wait. What was Oliver doing here? And who was stupid enough to give him a gun? And now that I actually paused, I could hear moans and soft crying. Oh all that is on God’s green earth, was the cult still in the same room as us?
“Soulmate …” Andre said, pulling me away from my thoughts. My eyes flicked to his, and I only had a moment to perceive the hunger in them before his lips found mine again. The taste of him washed away the stink of the devil. It was the kiss of a desperate man. My skin flared weakly.
I heard the sigh of a knife cutting through flesh, and then Andre drew my mouth down to his neck.
Blood dripped from a wound there. I tried to pull my head away, but I was too weak. Andre brushed a hand over my hair. “Soulmate, you’ve already drunk my blood.” I had? “But you need to drink a little more.”
Gently he pressed me towards his neck. The wound there had already begun to heal, but my lips brushed against the blood that had pooled on the surface. As soon as the taste of it hit my tongue, my teeth sank into the flesh of his neck and instinct took over.
It tasted better than anything I could’ve imagined. A surge of endorphins rushed through me. My soulmate tasted like home.
My body shuddered as blood filled my system and my skin began to softly glow. Beneath me Andre groaned, and I smelled that wild, spicy scent of his. Pheromones. Guess I wasn’t the only one that enjoyed getting bitten.
“I … never realized just how repulsive blood drinking was,” Oliver commented from behind us. “Though I will say, you two make nasty look good.”
I ignored the peanut gallery. My wounds itched, and I could feel them stitching themselves back together. I pulled deeply from Andre’s blood, and I felt him run his hand down the back of my hair, murmuring sweet things in Spanish.
The skin over my heart and neck sealed together. Very gently, Andre began to push me away from him. I made an annoyed noise in the back of my throat, which earned me a chuckle.
I released my hold on Andre’s neck and blinked a few times, letting my bloodlust abate. I hadn’t realized how close to death I’d still been until I’d gotten more blood in me.
I glanced up at Andre. “Thank you,’” I whispered hoarsely.
He gave me a tired grin, relief softening his features. He reached a hand up and stroked my face. “I love you.”
When I tried to reach out to him, I realized my wrists and ankles were still bound. I tugged against them, and the bindings easily ripped apart.
I looked at Andre, my eyes surprised.
He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.
“They were enchanted,” I explained.
He stared at my lips intently—reading them I assumed. “Look’s like the spell’s broken,” he said in response. Then, as if he couldn’t help it, he leaned in and brushed a kiss against my lips.
Above us I heard the sound of sirens, and I pulled away, letting out a shaky breath. The Politia were arriving.
I touched my neck. It still hurt like a mother, but the wound had closed.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Andre said, lifting me in his arms. It was only now that the altar was no longer blocking my view that I got a good glimpse of the rest of the room.
I made a noise at the back of my throat. It looked like a butcher shop in here. Except some of the bodies … some of them still appeared to be alive. And now that I listened closely, I could hear whimpers of pain coming from some of them. When my eyes landed on Morta’s severed head, I nearly lost what little food I had in my stomach. Andre had gone on a rampage.
In the far corner, what was left of my former attackers huddled together, crying and shaking. They didn’t look quite so courageous now that the king of vampires stood in the same room as them.
When the group saw me and realized I was aware, I heard a few gasps. “She’s alive!”
“The vampire brought her back to life!”
“The devil’s consort lives!”
A few of them took a step forward.
“Move again, and I’ll make you wish you were dead,” Andre snarled.
I heard car doors slam and the sound of footsteps entering the castle.
He began backing up. “Time to go. Oliver?”
Some of the supernaturals with good hearing stirred amongst the crowd, restless at the thought of getting caught. Morta was probably supposed to take care of these details. Too bad the fate of death was now the dead one.
Karma was in fact a bitch.
A moment later the Politia swarmed inside the room, pointing their guns and yelling in Romanian. The group’s hands went up into the air almost immediately.
Andre set me to my feet but kept one hand around my waist for support, eyeing the Politia like he dared them to pry me from him.
I leaned into him, still weak from my injuries, and emotionally battered from my encounter with the devil. I’d been so close to losing everything.
“You will not harm any of us,” one of the cloaked figures said. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Lila.
She stepped away from the cloaked crowd and removed her hood, her hips swaying as she walked. “You will let—”
Andre’s hand slipped from my waist. A moment later he stood in front of her and wrapped a hand around her neck and lifted her off the ground. “You do not know how badly I’ve wanted to hurt you. And now you’ve presented me with the perfect opportunity.”
I heard guns cock as officers trained their weapons on Andre. One of them shouted at him in Romanian, but he ignored the warning.
I shifted my weight. This could devolve real fast if I didn’t do something. I took a deep breath, and called the siren up. “Don’t listen to anything the woman says,” I instructed the room, my skin glowing weakly. “Those of you who came here tonight intending to do me harm will willingly turn yourselves in. Officers, you will arrest the perpetrators.”