Afterlight (36 page)

Eli’s gaze hardened. “Dead.”

Relief gripped me. “Victorian?”

Eli glanced away, then returned his gaze to mine. “Not dead, but he’s gone. Ned can’t pick him up.”

“Oh,” I answered. “I remember seeing . . . bodies. Blood.”

Eli’s face grew grave. “Some of Valerian’s newlings made their first kill on the guys down at the river. Six in all, and they escaped with Victorian. Phin and Luc cleaned up while we gathered you and the others to bring here.”

“How did you manage that?” I asked, trying not to think about the innocent boys whose lives are now those of monsters.

“It wasn’t easy. Newlings desiring their first kill are . . . tenacious. But we managed. They’re all here.”

“Riggs? Todd?” I asked, then remembered a desperate mom on TV pleading for information about her missing son. “Jared Porter?”

“Yeah, they’re here, too. They’re all fine, Riley.”

Tears came to my eyes; I couldn’t help it. They leaked out the sides and down my cheeks and into my hair, and I couldn’t even lift a hand to wipe them. “Can I see Seth?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Not yet,” Eli said, wiping my tears with a finger. “His rehab is going to take a bit longer than yours.”

My eyes sought his. “Why can’t I move my body?”

Eli knelt on the ground beside my cot and leaned close to me. God, I’d never seen a more beautiful man in my life. I couldn’t believe he was really mine.

A smile cracked his pale features. “So you consider me yours, huh?”

I smiled back. “You jackass. I’d smack you, but . . . why can’t I lift my arms?”

The smile faded. “It’s been over a week, Riley, since that night at the cemetery. You were bitten. Both Arcos brothers—they both drank. You collected some of their venom.”

“There’s
venom
?” I asked, horrified. “You never told me there was venom.”

The slightest of smiles returned. “Yeah, there’s venom. That’s what causes the tendencies. You didn’t get much, but you did get some—from two very powerful
strigoi
vampires.”

I frowned. “So . . . what does that mean? Am I paralyzed for life?”

Eli shook his head. “No, not by far. It means you are going to have tendencies, Riley. You and Seth both will, but yours will be . . . different.”

I thought of Ned Gillespie.

“Yeah, like Ned. Only . . . way different.”

My mind whirled. “Could you please let me finish my own thoughts and say them before you answer me?” I asked with a smile. “Now. How different?”

Eli pulled his knee up and propped his arm against it. With his fingers, he played with my hair. “Only time will tell. It’s too early to know.”

I tried to let that congeal in my brain. It really was too much to take in at one time. So much had happened, and in such a short amount of time. “As long as my baby brother is safe, and okay,” I said, “I’m totally content.”

“Totally?” Eli asked, and leaned closer. He dragged a finger across my bottom lip.

“Can you kiss me, or is it too dangerous?” I asked.

“Dangerous for whom?”

I smiled and gave him a somber look. “Thank you, Eligius Dupré. You saved me. You saved my brother, and I will be grateful forever.”

He leaned over me then, brushed my hair back, and cradled my face. “I had no other choice,” he said quietly, and lowered his lips to mine. He kissed me gently, as though afraid of hurting me. It was soft but possessive; it was a brand, and I relished it. Eli’s unique taste and scent lured me, and had I not been paralyzed, I would have pulled him to me and never let him go. He raised his head and sought my eyes with his. “Is that a fact?” he asked, grinning.

“Yeah,” I answered. “That’s right.”

His gaze grew serious and bored straight through me. “Mine,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You’re
mine
, Riley Poe.”

My insides seized, and I didn’t think a man could ever say another thing to me so incredibly possessive or romantic at the same time. I smiled.

Eli knew exactly what I was thinking.

Estelle’s hoodoo medicine kicked in, and my eyelids grew heavy. I fell asleep with Eli’s fingers entwined with mine, but even after my body slumbered, my brain continued furiously. At least, I thought it was my brain. At first. Until a familiar voice crowded my thoughts.

“
Y
ou’ve been dreaming of him again,”Eli said, his eyes hard, his voice low, accusing. “Haven’t you?”

I ignored him, extended my leg fully, and, with a quick snap, kicked the bag. I followed it with three sharp jabs. Anger and a little hurt built inside me, and after a few more kicks, I broke a sweat.

My body whipped around, and Eli’s strong hands grasped my shoulders. “Don’t ignore me, Riley.” He drew his face close to mine.
“Don’t.”

I frowned, totally pissed. “Then don’t accuse me, Eli.” I shook his hands off. “You know I can’t help those dreams. You
know
it.”

Eli stared at me several long seconds, then shoved his fingers through his hair, muttered some French expletive, and walked to the window. He looked at some distant point across the river. “You desire him.”

Anger flashed inside me, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “How freaking old are you, Eli?” I asked. “Sixteen? Oh, no, that’s right. You’re over two
hundred
.” I walked up behind him, grabbed him by the arm, and turned him around to face me. Brilliant blue eyes searched mine, and I knew he was reading my thoughts—digging through them like a madman was more like it. “You’re acting like a jealous high school boyfriend,” I said, a little gentler. I grazed his jaw with my index finger. “Seriously, Eli.”

Another handful of seconds dragged by before his face went emotionless, his eyes dulled, those beautiful full lips that worked magic against my body thinned. “You don’t deny it, do you, Riley?” His voice was low, even, tinged with a heavier-than-usual bit of French. I’d learned fast that the heavier the accent, the more pissed off Eli Dupré was.

“Victorian forces the dreams on me,” I said harshly. “Just like he forces the emotions within them.” I stepped closer. “I. Can’t. Help. It.”

Anger pulled his features tight. “Do you think this is some game? He is deadly, Riley. He will drain every ounce of your blood. Regrets will come after it’s too late.” His eyes grew somber. “I think you enjoy the dreams a little too much,” he said, moving past me. At the door, he stopped, staring straight ahead. “You could have come to me.”

“What would you have done, Eli?” I said. “You can’t go into my subconscious and change anything. You can’t make him stop.”

“You don’t know what I can do,” he said angrily. “You didn’t give me a fucking chance.”

He moved so fast, I didn’t see him actually turn and leave. Only the sound of the back door closing alerted me to his absence.

I walked to the window overlooking River Street, propped a hip against the ledge, and stared out into the growing darkness. Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against the cool pane. He wasn’t right, not by far. I did not enjoy the dreams, nor did I desire Victorian. In the dreams, I want him to stop, to leave me the hell alone, but he never does. He returns to me, time after time, with the most erotic, out-of-control dreams that make me respond to him in ways that mortify me.

Worse, Victorian had begun speaking to me during my waking hours. Somehow, he’d gotten inside my head
outside
of the dreams. I thought I could handle it. I wanted the bastard dead; I was the only one who could get close enough to do it.
Dammit.

“What was that all about?”

I turned and met Seth’s gaze. I was a balled-up bundle of hot electrical wires, and I needed to burn off a little energy. It was either that or bang my head against a brick wall. “Nothing, Bro. You wanna go for a run?”

My brother gave me a crooked grin. “I’ll pass. I’m meeting Josie for a little roof jumping.” He wiggled his brows at me.

Seth Poe was definitely enjoying his vampiric tendencies. The kid had serious free-running talent. I grinned. “Gotcha. I’ll catch ya later.” I yanked on my sneakers and headed out into the early-September air, crossed the merchant’s drive, climbed the metal steps to Bay Street, and took off.

Savannah in September was still warm and humid, and the brine from the river clung heavily to the air. I drew it in fully as I ran, the muscles in my legs stretching with each stride. I could go faster—much faster—but that would draw serious attention. Instead, I kept it to a mortal’s pace, crossed Bay behind a group of late-night ghost walkers, and headed up Bryan Street. Finally, I found myself alone, and I increased my speed, stretched my legs. Long shadows fell from lampposts, parking meters, and the massive oaks that lined nearly every side street in the historic district. Everything looked distorted. I turned the corner and glanced over my shoulder.

An arm shot out of the shadows, clotheslined me, and knocked me onto my back. I’d barely felt the sidewalk beneath me before I leapt up, adrenaline rushing, body rigid, poised and ready to fight, and stared into the shadows.

I knew who awaited me before he emerged.

“My apologies for using force to stop you,” Victorian Arcos said in a low, seductive voice. “But you’re amazingly fast.”

“Thanks to you and your brother,” I answered. “What are you doing here? They’ll kill you if they find you.”

Victorian stepped fully into the lamplight, and again, I was stunned by his beauty. Gone was the eighteenth-century clothing from before. Although he still kept his sleek black hair long and pulled in a queue, he was now dressed in a loose white button-down shirt hanging un-tucked from a pair of worn jeans and scuffed boots. It was difficult to believe he was only twenty-one years old. Well, that plus several hundred years.

“I can barely smell your blood,” he said, ignoring my threat, stepping closer, inhaling deeply. “Your dark brothers must have changed the drugs they use to mask your scent.” Light reflected in his deep brown eyes, and they studied me closely. “I had to see you.”

A car turned up the street, and the headlights flashed toward us. In the blink of an eye, Victorian stepped in front of me, pushing me backward through the thick grass and into the shadows of an aged-brick historic house that dominated nearly an entire block. The car passed. The headlight beams swept above our heads, and then left us in total darkness. Victorian, who stood six feet tall, moved slowly, crowding me, forcing me to back up. I stopped when brick touched my back. I felt completely powerless, as though I possessed zero control of my actions, my thoughts, and the younger Arcos brother took full advantage.

He stared down at me, desire radiating off his body in waves. “You torture me, Riley,” he said, his Romanian accent making his words seductive, erotic. “I think of nothing else but you”—he leaned close, his mouth brushing my jaw—“of what I want to do to you.” His soft lips grazed the skin at my neck and made me shiver. “It causes me physical pain to stay away.” His mouth moved to my jaw, dragging his lips to my chin, close to my own mouth. “I want you now,” he whispered. “I want to keep you forever.”

I was shaking, my mind numb, sensations tingling across the skin where his lips moved so erotically. I gathered my strength—God only knows where it came from—lifted my hands to his chest and pushed. Victorian flew backward and landed on his back several feet away. He lay there, staring at me. Smiling.

When I blinked, he’d risen, crowding me once more, his hands grasping my wrists and pinning them to the brick wall at my back. He lowered his head, his lips whispering against mine.

“Your tendencies do nothing but excite me even more,” he said. “What other tricks do you possess that I can enjoy?” His alluring scent surrounded me as his mouth covered mine . . .

“Riley? Wake up.”

My eyes fluttered open, and I stared into Eli’s questioning gaze. He frowned. “You were dreaming.”

Inside my head, Victorian’s seductive laugh echoed . . .