A Touch of Crimson
Page 35

She nodded. “Yes. I’m ready.”
He gestured for her to return to the bedroom.
“Can you tell me what’s going to happen?” she asked, lying on the bed as directed. Her heart was racing so violently she thought she might have a heart attack.
The vampire leader sat on the bed beside her and took her hand in his. He met her gaze directly, his perfect features soft with affection. Just looking at him told her what a stunner Shadoe must have been. An exotic beauty whose love had enslaved Adrian forever.
“I’m going to drink from you.” His voice was as warm and intoxicating as heated brandy. “I’m going to drain you to the brink of death. Then I’m going to fill you back up with the blood from my veins and it’s going to Change you.”
“My soul will die.”
He looked for a moment like he might lie to her. Then he nodded. “Mortal souls don’t survive the Change. But if it’s any consolation, I think Shadoe will have absorbed some of you over the time you two have been together. You might continue to exist in that way. I don’t think you’ll be completely lost.”
“But you don’t know.”
“No,” he agreed. “You are unique.”
She exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Syre brushed the hair back from her forehead. “You really love him. I wish I understood why. Every time you come back, you love him all over again.”
Her eyes closed. “Please. Just get this over with.”
She felt the humidity of his spice-scented breath against her wrist, then the sharp sting of his bite.
Lindsay floated in an oddly warm miasma. Like a swimmer on her back, she drifted languidly, all sense of time and urgency gone.
Around her, waves of memories rose and crested. Some were hers; most were not. She sifted through them with a lush fascination, watching reels of events like movies. So many versions of herself, as if she were the only actress in an endless play with multiple characters, settings, and time periods.
In the back of her mind, she registered a distant burning. Around her, smoke and fire licked along the shores of her memories, making the water boil until it was uncomfortable against her bare flesh. She tried to twist away, then to dip beneath the waters, but below the surface there was no bottom. There was only an endless void and the tickling sensation of that abyss suckling at her toes, luring her downward.
She broke the surface and returned to her horizontal position, keeping her legs away from the seductive pull below.
There was no escaping the growing heat.
“It’ll go away soon.”
Turning her head in search of the speaker, Lindsay discovered a woman floating nearby. An exotic and breathtaking woman. A woman whose rich beauty would make a stunning pairing with Adrian’s dark magnificence.
“Shadoe.”
Shadoe’s mouth curved. “Hello, Lindsay.”
She reached out and they linked fingers. A swift rush of cooling relief raced up Lindsay’s arm from the contact. Her mind filled with images of Syre and a beautiful Asian woman. They were laughing. Playing. Chasing two young giggling children through a field of tall grasses. Syre had wings. Great, magnificent wings of azure blue that perfectly matched the color of his irises. They spread and stretched in a visible manifestation of his joy. He lifted the little girl high and kissed her forehead. Lindsay felt the press of those lips against her own skin, felt the rush of paternal love that accompanied it as if it were for her.
Syre set Shadoe down and chased his son, an adorable boy with chubby arms and legs. Shadoe moved to where her mother was laying out a picnic. She sat on the edge of the blanket and tossed small pieces of some kind of vegetable near the edge of the clearing, where the grasses began their domination of the landscape.
A small rabbitlike creature appeared, soft, fluffy, and white. It followed the vegetable trail to Shadoe, who stroked its trusting head with her fingertips. When the creature grew bolder and reared up to set its front paws on Shadoe’s thigh, she laughed with delight and scooped it up like Syre had done to her only moments before. She nuzzled her freckled nose against the sweet animal’s, then buried her face in its neck.
The creature’s scream startled Lindsay so violently she jerked and sank beneath the waves. The memory slid away from her, getting caught in the churning surf near the burning shoreline, but not before Lindsay caught the ripe smell of blood and the beauty of crimson soaking into pristine white. Like Adrian’s wings.
She kicked her way back up to the surface, gasping with a mixture of fear, fascination, and building hunger. The scent of the creature’s blood drove her wild. Her mouth watered with the desire to drink it greedily the way Shadoe had.
Shadoe smiled at Lindsay’s sputtering breaths. The naphil floated gracefully on her back with her hands tucked behind her head. Her dark hair fanned outward, as did the transparent gauzy skirts of her dress. She looked like a nymph, beautiful and seductive.
“You were already a vampire,” Lindsay accused.
“No. The nephalim thirsted for blood before the Watchers fell. Our angel halves needed the energy found in the life force of others.” There was no horror or remorse in the woman’s voice. No shame or embarrassment.
Lindsay struggled to make sense of it all. The raging heat was slowly fading and languidness returned to her. She felt like taking a nap, like sinking into the silken embrace of the memories around her.
“He’s loved me forever,” Shadoe said casually. “Obsessively.”
“I know.”
New recollections lapped over her. She recognized some of them from her dreams. They made sense now. Every image and scene held Adrian in moments of lust and passion. Lindsay watched with a sharp, ferocious jealousy. She closed her eyes but still found no relief. The memories were in her head, her mind. Whispering. Crooning. Pleading. She was about to dive beneath the waves just to get away from them when she saw herself. She stilled her restless thrashing and took it all in, reliving the tender moments she’d shared with Adrian.
I need you, tzel.
Pain seared her at the understanding of what that meant: while making love to her, he’d been thinking of someone else.
The reminiscences continued unabated, giving her no peace.
Take me, neshama sheli.
She cried at the heated emotion radiating from Adrian as he asked her to take everything he offered her.
“What does that mean?” she asked Shadoe in a voice made husky by heartbreak and longing. “ ‘Neshama sheli’?”
“It means ‘my soul.’ It’s an endearment.”
Lindsay absorbed that. As the memories swirled around her, spinning faster and faster until a vortex formed in a downward spiral, she noted how his endearments for her changed as their relationship progressed. Toward the end, he referred to her only as his soul. Not Shadoe’s. His.
No, tzel. I’m going to free you. I’m going to let you go...
He’d been saying good-bye to Shadoe, not her.
Lindsay kicked upward, fighting the voracious sucking of the whirlpool. She was screaming, shouting for help, drowning with the sudden realization of how poorly she’d interpreted her dreams the night before.
Adrian loved her. And god knew she was crazy enough about him to die for his happiness. Which appeared to be what she was to him—the woman who made him happy.
She wouldn’t give him up. She refused. He knew her inside and out. From the beginning, he’d allowed her to choose which direction she wanted to travel, and whichever road she chose—the hotel or the hunt, with or without him—he had made accommodations to allow her that freedom while still keeping her safe. She could be herself with him and he would love her that way. Cherish her.
With all her might, Lindsay fought the relentless pull of the now glowing abyss below her, but the cyclonic recollections around her rose higher and higher, and the reels of images in the sky above her seemed farther and farther away.
“Shadoe!” she yelled. “You’ll never have all of him. Never again.”
An arm shot out and grasped her wrist. Shadoe leaned over the lip of the vortex, her long black hair hanging in a satiny curtain around her lovely face.
“Part of him belongs to me now.” Lindsay whimpered, her shoulder separating from its socket as she was pulled in two directions. “You don’t strike me as the type of woman who’s willing to share.”
“And you are?”
Lindsay’s jaw tightened against the pain. “I’ll take whatever I can have of him,” she bit out. “If he thinks of you sometimes, I can live with that. Can you live with him making love to my body when he’s with you?”
Shadoe’s sloe eyes narrowed. Then her lush red lips curved in a smile. She released Lindsay’s arm, and Lindsay fell toward the radiant light below.
“Shadoe.”
Her rival dived into the vortex, racing past Lindsay with her arms outstretched and her hands clasped together in a narrow blade. She cut through the light and disappeared inside it. Instantly the whirlpool’s direction changed, surging upward. As the moving pictures above Lindsay rushed down to meet her, she held her breath and closed her eyes.
She was spit out of the tempest with a gasping breath of cognizance.
Jackknifing up, Lindsay woke in a strange bed. She blinked at finding Kent Magus sitting in a chair beside her.
“Kent?” she queried, realizing she was drenched with sweat. So much sweat that the comforter and sheets beneath her were soaked with it, too. Something hard rattled around in her mouth. She spit it out, then another one. She winced at the sight of her two human canine teeth in her palm. “What are you doing in my dream?”
Kent stared at her, then frowned. “Lindsay . . . ? Where’s Shadoe?”
“You have the hots for her, too?” Her gaze narrowed. Kent’s handsome features echoed the woman’s she had just said good-bye to in her mind . . . or soul—wherever. “She’s gone. Not coming back. Off to a better place and all that.”
“Shit,” he whispered, running his hand through hair that had become spiky from his restless fingers.
“What are you doing here?”
He scrubbed at teary, reddened eyes. “I’m your—I’m Shadoe’s brother, Torque.”
“Oh. I thought you were my night auditor.” She fell back into the wet bedclothes with a groan, certain she was both crazy and dying. No one could feel as bad as she did and live through it. Violent shudders wracked her body as if she were freezing, but she was burning up. Her mouth felt stuffed with cotton that tasted like an ashtray. Her stomach was churning as if ready to heave, and her head was throbbing so viciously she felt like something was trying to slam its way out of her skull from the inside.
But the reality she’d woken up to was worse.
She was still Lindsay, still crazy about Adrian, and she was one of the things they both hated and hunted—a vampire.
CHAPTER 23
Adrian saw the smoke rising from the remnants of the Navajo Lake pack miles before he reached it. When Damien pulled the Suburban through the gates, they entered a literal war zone. Very little remained intact. Fires burned untended. What had once been the cryogenic storage facility was a charred hole in the ground several meters deep. Not one window remained unbroken. Feathers dotted the ground along with dozens of naked corpses.
For the first time in two days, an emotion penetrated the thick haze of grief clouding Adrian’s mind and heart.
Climbing out of the truck, he surveyed the devastation. He rubbed at the dull pain in his chest and asked, “How many Sentinel casualties?”
“Five, including Jason.”
More losses in a matter of hours than they’d been dealt in centuries, plus two lieutenants lost in a single month. “How many lycans were killed?”
“Close to thirty.” Damien looked pale and drawn. “Although it’s likely some fled and died from their wounds elsewhere. There are a few who stayed loyal to us, but I don’t know how useful they’ll be. The other lycans will kill them on sight.”
Adrian wandered through the ruined outpost. This blow was the worst yet, one very likely to cause the destruction of every Sentinel.
And he wasn’t at his best. Everything was murky, as if he were looking at the world through cracked, dirty glass.
Where was Lindsay? How was she? Had she gone through with the Change? Was Syre even now enjoying the return of his daughter after all these centuries apart?
The thought of crossing paths with Shadoe in Lindsay’s body cut through Adrian like razors, yet he knew that day was coming if the Change had gone through as Syre predicted. He had no idea how he would survive such an encounter. He could only beg the Creator to spare him such agony.
He forced his scattered mind to focus on the immediate horror facing them. “Has news of this spread to the other packs?”
“Not all,” Damien replied grimly. “But we haven’t been able to reach the Andover or Forest River packs since early yesterday.”
Adrian returned to the SUV for the tools stored in the back. “As per protocol, we’ll burn the bodies, then level this place. We can’t leave anything behind for the curious to find.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The use of his rank chilled him. “When we get back to the Point, you and Oliver should put your heads together and come up with some suggestions for how to proceed from here. By the day after tomorrow, you should have settled on a replacement for me.”
“Adrian.”
He felt the weight of Damien’s gaze on his profile. The other Sentinels with them, Malachai and Geoffrey, stepped closer.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, his throat tight with remorse. It was his duty to support his men and give them encouragement and motivation when their morale was low. But he was lost himself. “I failed you all. I should have withdrawn from the mission the moment I fell. Perhaps this could’ve all been avoided.”