Chapter Thirteen
Zoltan gritted his teeth as the rope bit into his neck. They were leading him about like a damned dog on a leash. The arrow in his back stung like hell. Fortunately, the queen’s jab at him with her sword had missed the bags of blood stashed in his jacket. The stab had barely broken his skin, so it wasn’t bleeding nearly as profusely as the wound on his back was.
Still, the scent of so much blood ignited his vampire senses, and it took every ounce of his control not to give in to the rampant power that sizzled through his veins. Given free rein, his undead instincts would have him teleport free, steal the queen’s sword, and decapitate everyone at vampire speed. They could all be dead in a matter of seconds. Well, everyone but Neona. Over the centuries, he had acquired excellent control.
With a low growl, he acknowledged that beheading Neona’s mother and friends was not a likely way to earn her trust. He needed to convince these women he was their ally, so he would have to play nice. No glowing eyes and fangs.
With all the pain he was enduring, he had to wonder if he was a fool. He could have teleported away the instant the arrow was shot. But Neona had leaped in front of him, and his immediate reaction had been to save her. He’d been so shocked that he’d acted without thinking. In almost eight hundred years, he couldn’t recall anyone ever trying to save him. He’d always done the rescuing, the protecting.
But Neona had tried to save him. Did that mean she loved him?
He glanced at her as they came to a stop by the fire pit in the center of their small village. Her love might be short-lived. If given another chance to save him, he wasn’t sure she would. He’d seen the stunned look of horror flit across her face when his fangs had sprung out.
She doubted him now; he could feel it. There was a distant wariness to her stance, a reluctance to look him in the eye. She said nothing as one of the women looped his leash around a pole and reeled him in till he was only a foot away. He turned to survey their small village, but the arrow in his back knocked against the pole, inciting another burst of pain.
Was this where they planned to execute him? The irony struck him like a punch in the gut. His mother had been tied to a pole in the village square, and his father had done nothing to save her. Now, eight hundred years later, the same tragic scene was being replayed. Would Neona turn her back on him and let him die? Did she think he was an evil creature, just like Father had thought about Mother?
He glanced at Neona, but her head was turned away. She was refusing to look at him.
Just teleport home. Save yourself and forget about her. Tears filled his eyes. He’d thought she was the one. If he left now, he’d be admitting it was over, that she’d given up on him. He clenched his fists. Bear with it just a few more seconds. Give her a chance.
The three women with bows aimed their arrows at him, and the queen lifted her arm. Any second now she’d drop her arm and the arrows would fly. He looked at Neona one last time. Tears were running down her cheeks.
“Stop!” she screamed and ran to position herself in front of him.
His heart squeezed in his chest. She still believed in him.
“Move aside!” the queen shouted.
“Don’t kill him.” Neona fell to her knees and clasped her hands together as if in prayer. “I beg of you, grant us the mercy shown to Calliope. This man is my mate.”
Zoltan opened his mouth to agree, but he was interrupted by the queen.
“We cannot take mates! Even Calliope’s mate deserted her.”
“But we have Freddie and Freya because of him.” Neona motioned to two of the women with cocked bows. “I could give us more daughters. We need more women, you know that.”
One of the women lowered her bow. “That is true. What is the harm in keeping him alive till he fathers a child?”
“I agree with Freddie.” A second woman lowered her bow. “He could live at our father’s cabin.”
That had to be Freya, Zoltan thought. She was almost identical to her sister, Winifred. The only difference was the golden tint to Winifred’s brown eyes, whereas Freya’s eyes were hazel green.
“Too dangerous,” the third female bowman said. “He could escape and tell others about us.”
The queen nodded. “Lydia is right. We cannot allow him to leave this valley alive.”
“I’ll keep him in my house.” Neona rose to her feet. “Please. I want a daughter so badly.” She glanced back at Zoltan, avoiding eye contact. “This man is strong and fair of face. I believe he could give me an exceptional daughter.”
“He does seem strong,” Winifred said. “He must be in pain, but he hasn’t even moaned.”
“He must be fleet of foot, too,” Freya added. “He managed to sneak past Tasha.”
The queen scowled at him. “How did you get past our guard?”
“I come in peace—”
“Men are never peaceful,” Nima hissed, then looked at her daughter. “You see how he avoids telling us the truth. He cannot be trusted. He’s corrupting you, making you forget your sacred duty.”
“No!” Neona shook her head. “It is part of our duty to produce daughters for the future. This man can give me one.”
Zoltan winced inwardly. Was this her strategy for keeping him alive, or was it how she truly felt? Was he nothing more than a sperm donor?
The queen gave him a disgusted look. “He will bring you nothing but misery. Lydia, bring Tashi here. I want to know how this man sneaked past your daughter.”
Lydia turned pale. “Yes, your majesty.” She strode from the village.
“Winifred, rip the arrow out of him,” the queen ordered. “Let’s see if he’s as strong as you think.”
“Yes, your majesty.” Winifred handed her bow and arrow to her sister, then circled behind him.
With a grimace, Neona looked away. Zoltan wasn’t sure how she felt. She was definitely trying to keep him alive, but at the same time, she was refusing to make eye contact with him.
He felt Winifred planting her hand firmly on his back and he gritted his teeth, preparing himself. Any second now. He closed his eyes so no one would see them glow.
A blast of searing pain exploded across his back. He gasped but managed not to moan or reveal his fangs.
“It’s out,” Winifred announced behind him. “He’s losing blood fast.”
He dragged in a hissing breath. He needed to feed. Soon.
“I will lay my hands on you to heal you,” Neona whispered. “It will stop the bleeding and take away the pain.”
He opened his eyes to frown at her. “You will not.”
Her gaze lifted till her eyes met his. “There is no need for you to be in pain.”
“I will not have you take my pain upon yourself.”
“Interesting.” Winifred stepped in front of him, regarding him curiously. “I think he likes you, Neona.”
“I promised her I would bring her no harm,” Zoltan said quietly.
Neona looked away, but her eyes glistened with tears.
“That’s so . . . sweet.” Winifred exchanged an amused look with her sister.
The queen scoffed. “And so it begins. He will deceive you with his pretense to care, and he’ll wheedle his way into your affections with his lies. I should kill him before he corrupts you all.”
Zoltan eyed the queen. How had she managed to remain so hateful over the millennia? You would think a person would mellow out after a few thousand years. “You won’t have to kill me. I’ll bleed to death soon enough.”
“I’ll fetch some bandages and medicine.” Neona ran inside a nearby building.
Winifred crossed her arms, studying him. “So how did you meet Neona?”
“We met five nights ago.” He attempted a bow, but the rope around his neck stopped him. “How do you do? My name is Zoltan.”
“I’m Freddie, and this is my sis—”
“Hush!” The queen glared at Winifred. “He already knows too much.”
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all,” Zoltan continued as if this was a social event. “I brought gifts for you. They’re in the cabin in the next valley. A set of hunting knives and other weapons. Some books—”
“Weapons?” Winifred asked.
“Books?” Freya’s eyes lit up.
“Enough!” Nima glared at the two girls. “Do you not realize what he is doing? Flattery, manipulation, and deception. He seeks to destroy us.”
“I want to help you,” he insisted. “You’re in danger from Master Han and Lord—”
“I knew it!” The queen drew her sword and pointed it at his heart. “You’re a spy from Lord Liao.”
“No. I’m on your side.”
“You lie.” She pressed the point of her sword against his jacket.
The queen was going to be hard to convince. Zoltan decided it was time to pull out a trump card. “You can trust me. This place is in my blood. I am Dohna’s son.”
With a gasp, the queen stumbled back. The sword fell from her hand, hitting the ground with a thud.
Winifred and Freya exchanged shocked looks, then turned back to stare at him.
Meanwhile, the leopard ran into the clearing. Oh, no! You got caught? I told you not to get caught. Why are you covered with blood?
Zoltan gritted his teeth. I got shot.
What can we do? Zhan ran in a circle around him. I know! I’ll bite the queen on the ankle. Then you make a run for it. Neona can live with us in the forest, and we’ll go hunting for rabbit every day! It’ll be great!
Cat, I’m tied to a frickin’ pole.
Oh. That’s a problem. Zhan attempted to climb the pole, but halfway up, he fell to the ground. Don’t worry! I’ll get you loose. He attacked the pole, clawing furiously.
Zoltan snorted. At this rate, the cat might have him free in twelve hours. He’d have to teleport before then to avoid the sun. And if he didn’t eat soon—
“You lie!” Queen Nima emerged from her shock to yell at him.
“It is the truth,” Zoltan said. “My father was the Count of Czakvar in Transylvania. He brought home a new wife from the East, and they called her Donna Maria. When the Mongols invaded in 1241, most of the village was slaughtered. Those who survived blamed Donna Maria and declared her a witch. My father had just lost his eldest son in battle, and in his despair—”
“Are you excusing him? That monster?” Nima’s face turned red with rage.
Zoltan swallowed hard. He had a sick feeling in his gut that Neona’s mother had killed his father. Dammit. After eight hundred years of wanting to know the truth, he now found himself reluctant to ask the question.
“Your majesty.” Winifred pulled the queen back. “Don’t let him upset you. He must be lying.”
“Right,” Freya agreed. “How could he be alive in 1241?”
The three women huddled together, speaking Tibetan and glancing furtively at him.
Cat, what are they saying? Zoltan asked.
Zhan stopped clawing to listen. They wonder how you could be centuries old. The queen is very upset. She thinks Dohna may have taken some of the Living Water with her and given it to you. It’s not supposed to be given to a male.
Living Water? So that was their fountain of youth. Zoltan looked around. Is it the stream that runs through the valley?
No, it’s the pool inside the cave. Never go inside there. If they catch you, they’ll kill you for sure.
Neona emerged from the building, her arms full of supplies. “Sorry it took me so long.” She hurried toward Zoltan. “I had to make some more bandages. We used up most of them three weeks ago after the battle.”
Zhan trotted up to her and rubbed against her legs. “Good kitty,” she whispered as she set down a bowl and pitcher of water near Zoltan’s feet. Inside a basket, there were torn strips of white linen and a pottery jar. She removed the knife from the sheath on her leg and sawed through the ropes tying his hands together.
“Neona,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
She ignored him, focusing on his hands.
“What are you doing, Neona?” The queen grabbed the sword she’d dropped earlier.
“I need his hands free so I can take off his jacket.” Neona sheathed her knife, then removed his jacket and tossed it aside. The leopard ran over to sniff at it.
The queen sheathed her sword. “You missed his latest lie. He claims to be the son of Dohna.”
Neona gasped and her eyes met his. “How can that be?”
“That’s what we’re wondering,” Nima muttered, glancing back at Winifred and Freya. “How could he have lived so long?”
Neona’s face turned pale.
Was she remembering the fangs she’d seen? Zoltan watched her intently, wondering if she was going to tell everyone he was a vampire.
She grabbed her knife, and, with trembling hands, she cut his T-shirt and ripped it open. “We don’t know if Dohna had a son.”
“So you agree he is lying?” Nima asked.
“I don’t know what to think of him,” Neona said softly. She poured water into the bowl, then wet a cloth and wiped the blood from the small stab wound on his ribs.
“I am still the same,” Zoltan whispered.
She ignored him and opened the pottery jar to smear some salve on the small wound.
“How would he even know about Dohna?” the queen demanded. “Did you tell him about her?”
Neona winced.
The queen scoffed. “You see how he twists your words to deceive us.”
Neona didn’t answer. She grabbed a strip of linen and wrapped it around his torso to cover up the small wound.
“I am telling the truth,” Zoltan said. “How else would I know that my mother could communicate with both birds and animals? The villagers thought she was a witch and that she had caused the Mongols to attack us.”
“And then your so-called father let them kill her?” Nima shouted. “If you are who you claim to be, then you are the son of the man who betrayed us!”
Neona gave him a wary look as she tied off the bandage.
“I blame my father, too,” Zoltan said. “I tried to save my mother. They were throwing stones at her, and I blocked them. And when they threw a torch, I jumped onto the kindling to keep it from catching fire. It burned my back—”
Neona cried out and stumbled back. “You—oh my God, you’re the boy?”
“You were there?” Zoltan asked. It seemed clear now that the women of Beyul-La had attacked his village, but his stomach clenched at the thought of Neona going on a killing rampage.
“You remember him?” Nima asked her daughter.
“When we arrived, the villagers had just set fire to the kindling. Dohna was already dead, and there was a boy on the ground in front of her.” Neona’s eyes widened as she turned back to Zoltan. “It’s you. That’s why I started having the dream.”
She pulled his ripped T-shirt off as she circled behind him, then used it to wipe the blood off his back. “Oh God. It’s really you.”
She stumbled in front of him, and the bloody T-shirt slipped from her hands to fall to the ground. “I didn’t recognize you. Or maybe I did. I started having the dream.” She studied his face. “Do you remember anything?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I woke up the next day a few miles from the village.”
“So he speaks the truth?” Nima asked.
Neona nodded, tears gleaming in her eyes. “I remember the burn mark. And the scars on his back and shoulders. I touched them all and felt the pain.”
Zoltan’s heart stilled. “You . . . healed me?”
A tear ran down her cheek. “When I first saw you, lying in front of Dohna, I knew you had tried to save her. You were near death, so I took you away to heal you.”
“You saved me,” he breathed. Neona had been with him, far away from the village. She’d been busy saving his life, not killing the villagers. Innocent or killer? His Neona was innocent.
He glanced at the queen. No doubt she’d taken part in the massacre. And since she was the leader, it seemed highly likely that she was the one who had killed his father.
The queen noted his stare and stiffened. “Why have you come here? Do you seek revenge for your father?”
He groaned inwardly. His theory appeared correct. “I only wanted answers.” He took a deep breath. “Right now, I’d like to stop bleeding.”
“Oh, of course! I’m sorry.” Neona grabbed the wet cloth to clean his back. Then she smeared some salve on him and wrapped a bandage around him. “This medicine will stop the bleeding and keep the wound clean.”
Winifred stepped closer. “So you’re really Dohna’s son?”
He nodded. “I was fourteen when she died.”
“How have you lived so long?” Nima demanded.
Neona paused in the middle of tying off the bandage. “He needs rest. It is a wonder he’s still
standing.”
“How did you know Dohna was in trouble?” he asked. “How did you get to Transylvania so quickly?”
The queen’s eyes flashed with anger. “You are our prisoner. You do not ask questions.”
The leopard hissed at the queen, then ran to hide behind Zoltan.
“I should take him to my cabin so he can rest,” Neona suggested.
“Can we go find the presents he left for us?” Winifred asked the queen.
“Tomorrow. Tonight we must take turns guarding Neona’s house.” Nima regarded Zoltan with suspicious disdain. “Do not be swayed by his false generosity. He wants something from us.”
Freya snorted. “He wants Neona in bed.”
Blushing, Neona emptied the bowl of bloody water. “He will be too weak.”
“You want to bet?” he asked softly. Once he drank the two plastic bags of blood hidden in his jacket, he would be much stronger.
Her blush deepened as she gathered up her supplies. Zhan butted his head against her leg.
“We have returned,” Lydia announced as she approached with her daughter.
Tashi frowned at Zoltan, then fell to her knees. “Forgive me, your majesty. I don’t know how I missed him. May I kill him for you?”
“I would be honored to assist her,” Lydia offered.
Zoltan groaned inwardly. More bloodthirsty women.
“I have decided to keep him alive,” Nima announced. “He is Dohna’s son.”
Lydia gasped, her eyes widening as she looked him over. “How can that be possible?”
“It is true,” Neona said. “He is the boy I saved.”
Tashi gave him a curious look as she rose to her feet. “He’s not a boy now.”
“I have a name. Zoltan.”
Lydia stepped closer, studying him. “He does look a bit like her. The shape of his eyes . . .”
“You knew my mother?” he asked.
Lydia sighed. “We were all heartbroken when she left with that bastard.”
“I am pleased we have this opportunity to bring Dohna’s bloodline back where it belongs.” Nima waved a hand in his direction. “This man will mate with Neona and give us Dohna’s granddaughter.”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “If he is Dohna’s son, then he is also the son of that bastard.”
“That is true,” Nima agreed. “His father betrayed Dohna in the worst way. We dare not trust this man.” She drew a knife from her belt and placed it at the base of Zoltan’s throat, then sliced through the rope around his neck. “He will remain imprisoned in Neona’s house until she becomes pregnant. Then we will kill him.”