Blood Destiny (5 page)

Everything about him gave him away.

The man wasn't just handsome: He was flawless.

No, there could be no doubt.

Jocelyn fought the overwhelming urge to answer his question. She knew precisely what he was. Not human.

Vampire. She squared her stance, tightened her grip, and tried to come up with a plan.

The vampire frowned, his forehead creased with consternation. He seemed deeply surprised—and mildly annoyed—by her resistance. This time, he locked his eyes with hers in a steadfast gaze, staring straight through her, and then he pitched his voice an octave lower.

"You will answer me now: What are you afraid of?"

Jocelyn's legs went limp as the words flowed out like water through a sieve. "I don't want you to kill me."

She answered honestly.

She had no other choice.

He had demanded nothing less.

The man recoiled. "And why would I do that?"

This time, Jocelyn literally bit her tongue. She had to be strong. She knew enough to realize that he was controlling her with his voice. Just as she knew, without question, that she could not endure what she had witnessed in that chamber.

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She had no idea whether or not a vampire could be destroyed with bullets, but she did know that she had only one chance to get it right. She could not be captured.

She would not be captured.

If she fired and missed—or worse, her bullets had no effect on the supernatural being—it would be too late. Her fate would be sealed.

Jocelyn swallowed a lump in her throat; she knew what she had to do. She had to take absolute control over the situation—create the one and only outcome she had complete authority over.

Jocelyn continued to resist the powerful coercion, her mind locked in fierce determination. She steadied her trembling arms and shifted the gun into her right hand. With iron resolve, she turned the nine-millimeter away from the vampire and brought it to her own temple.

In one smooth, determined motion, she pulled the trigger.

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Nathaniel moved with all the supernatural speed and precision of his kind, wrenching the gun from the woman's hand even as she squeezed the trigger. As he turned it away from her head, the lethal bullet sailed into a nearby tree, striking with a loud thud as small fragments of bark exploded into the air. He was absolutely shocked by her reckless behavior.

"Are you insane?" he demanded, no longer bothering to be polite. "What were you thinking?"

The woman appeared stunned—like she was struggling to comprehend what had just taken place. She was supposed to be dead, yet Nathaniel had averted the gun before the bullet could leave the chamber. As the realization set in, her expression went from bewildered to defeated. Utterly dazed, the human tried to murmur an answer, but it just came out as a series of incomprehensible sounds. And then her hazel-green eyes began to fill with tears.

Nathaniel took a deep, calming breath and steadied his voice. Once again, he used a deliberate tone of coercion. "You will tell me right now—what is it that has you so deeply frightened that you would rather kill yourself than face me?"

"You," she whispered in a barely audible voice.

"Me?" Nathaniel frowned, surprised by her answer.

True, he had deeply startled the poor woman, but that was hardly a reason to commit suicide. "Why in the world would you be that frightened of me?"

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The woman blinked back her tears, clearly irritated by her lack of control. "You are a...a vampire."

Nathaniel stepped back, quietly. Now he was the one who was stunned.

"I see."

He said it matter-of-factly, not denying anything, and then he took a much closer look at the frightened woman standing before him.

She was modestly tall and fairly thin. Solid but shapely.

And she held herself with a notable confidence, despite the situation. Her hair was a rich shade of brown that reminded him of creamy milk chocolate. It was gloriously long with soft waves of amber highlights cascading throughout the thick tresses.

Her eyes were positively enchanting, with an odd shadowy mix of pale green and soft hazel glowing in their depths, like the eyes of a tiger. Nathaniel thought they were stunning, as were the rest of her immaculate features. She was simply a striking woman.

And she was obviously frightened out of her wits.

A long moment of silence passed between them before she registered a response. "You aren't going to deny it?" Her skin turned pale, and she shook her head in disbelief. "Then you're admitting that you're a vampire? A mythical creature out of a horror movie?" Despite her attempt at courage, her voice faltered.

Nathaniel smiled, hoping to ease her fears. "I'm admitting no such thing," he quipped. "I am quite certain that I am neither a myth nor a creature from a horror movie. However, 45

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I will concede that you clearly believe that I am such a being.

Although I can't imagine why you would think such a thing."

"You know exactly what you are," the human retorted. Her eyes met his and she squared her shoulders.

Nathaniel rubbed his thumb against his chin and regarded her thoughtfully. The truth was he hadn't decided yet what he was going to do next. He had already crossed one line by forcing her previous answers. As it stood, he was going to have to remove her memories. While he didn't mind skimming her mind for further information, if necessary, he didn't want to probe too deeply without her permission.

Human beings had retained few divine qualities endowed upon them by their creator, but free will was one of them.

And it was not to be toyed with lightly. There were too many potential repercussions, not the least of which could be a sense of hopelessness, and in the worst case scenario, a lessening of the will to live—something this woman clearly had a problem with already.

Nathaniel sighed and softened his voice. "Tell me, beautiful woman with the eyes of a tiger, why is it that you think me to be Vampyr?"

He thought it was a reasonable enough question, but for some reason, the female went straight from upset to overload. Her eyes glazed over like she was on a mind-altering drug, and her mouth dropped open.

"Did you just call me tiger-eyes?" Her voice was sharp with disbelief. "And did you just pronounce the word, vampyr? As if making it sound more...sexy...could possibly change what it means?"

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He stifled a chuckle. This human's wit was adorable.

Hands on her hips, she huffed and regarded him defiantly.

"Well, for starters, you seem to know the right pronunciation of the word." And then she laughed, insincerely, sounding more hysterical than amused.

And then she began to cry.

Nathaniel cringed. "You have a sense of humor, I see.

More so, when you're not frightened to death, I imagine.

Please...don't cry." He took a very slow step forward and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Would it help if I assured you that you have nothing to fear from me? I am not going to harm you—no matter what kind of a creature I am."

The woman sniffled, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and crossed her arms in front of her, clearly thinking it over.

Nathaniel waited, their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity. The pretty woman was a welcome distraction from the day's events, but he didn't care to be out in the forest all night. And they were far too close to the lands of the Dark Ones for his comfort. Not to mention, there was an important mystery hidden behind those shadowy eyes: a fear so elemental that it shook him. What in the world had this woman seen?

"It might help," she finally said. "That is, if I thought I could believe you."

Nathaniel sighed. "Have I given you any reason not to trust me?"

The woman shrugged her slender shoulders.

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Nathaniel's exasperation grew. "If I recall, you were the one who made a choice to harm yourself. I believe I was the one who stopped you."

She looked away. "That's true...."

It was a minor concession, but he would take it.

When her brow creased like she was deep in thought, the temptation was just too great for Nathaniel to resist. He dipped gently into her mind and was immediately taken aback by what he found: There was absolutely no question—the woman was positively scared to death of him. She unequivocally believed that he was evil, despite his continued attempts at kindness. She was convinced that he was determined to hurt her, and the more he tried to be polite, the more she saw his behavior as calculated. Nathaniel knew he wasn't going to win her over easily—not without using a healthy dose of his powers.

Maybe not at all.

The woman cleared her throat and stared down at the ground before looking back up to meet his gaze. "Do you intend to let me go?" She sounded like a condemned prisoner standing before a firing squad.

This time, Nathaniel was less than amused. "Of course, I do." He held up his hands in frustration. "I am not holding you here in any way, my dear lady. I truly only came because I heard you cry and was concerned for your safety." He glanced cautiously around the valley. "This is not a safe place for you." His voice sharpened. "But then, it would appear to me as if you already know that. And whatever you're running 48

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from, it isn't me. So perhaps you would be wise to accept my assistance."

The woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and for a brief moment, Nathaniel thought he saw the faint hint of a smile.

"I'm not an irrational person, sir," she insisted. She raised her chin, crossed her arms, and regarded him again. "And I'm willing to admit that you might have a point. Might."

"Well, thank you," he whispered as his tension eased.

"Ma'am."

She sighed then and tucked her hair behind her ears, biting her lower lip—a gesture Nathaniel found curiously endearing.

Her eyes narrowed in concentration. "I want to believe you." She rested her forehead on the heels of her hands then, as if nursing a headache. "God knows...I need to believe you."

Nathaniel's heart immediately softened. "Tell me your name, tiger eyes."

Maybe if the two of them became more familiar, she might begin to trust him a little.

"Jocelyn," she answered reluctantly. "My name is Jocelyn."

Nathaniel extended his hand. "It is nice to meet you, Jocelyn. I am Nathaniel Silivasi. My family owns and operates most of Dark Moon Vale, including the lodge and the ski resort just to the east of here. If you would be so kind as to allow me to escort you from this place, I give you my word that I will let you go once you are in a safer place."

"You actually live around here?" she asked, incredulous.

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Nathaniel laughed. "Yes, I do. I actually live, work, and play around here. And I don't think it would bode well for me—or my business—if I went around harming the tourists.

What do you think?"

Suddenly, a small light appeared in her eyes, and her posture relaxed a little. She cautiously reached out to take his hand. "Nice to meet you, Nathaniel."

"It is my privilege, Jocelyn."

She acknowledged him, a quick nod of her head, and then hastily let go of his hand, stepping a few paces away.

Projecting what seemed to be a somewhat forced look of calm, she gestured toward the hiking trail and started walking.

Nathaniel fell effortlessly into step beside her. "I think you have made a good decision, Jocelyn. Much better than shooting oneself in the head, don't you think?"

This time, she looked up at him with wide eyes and just shook her head.

He chuckled beneath his breath.

"You really aren't going to hurt me?" she asked. Her voice was apprehensive.

Nathaniel stopped and placed both hands lightly on her shoulders, gently turning her to face him. "Jocelyn, look at me."

Impulsively, she obeyed.

"I am really not going to hurt you." He held her gaze, never once blinking.

Jocelyn let out her breath. "Okay." The response was a whisper. "I'm going to try to believe you." She tried to smile 50

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as they began walking again. "Just don't do anything. I mean, like don't make any more sudden moves or anything."

Nathaniel nodded and slowed his stride to a snail's pace. "I will move very slowly." He started to lag behind.

"Not that slow!" she snapped. "I am definitely ready to get out of here." This time, she smiled, a full, breathtaking grin.

Nathaniel loved the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled, lighting up the exquisite features of her face. She had a pleasant way about her when she was more at ease. He put his hands in the pockets of his waist-length jacket and fell easily into step with her again, hoping it was a good time to approach a more serious subject.

"You still have not told me what you were doing here in the first place. Why a beautiful woman would wander around a dark forest at night by herself."

Jocelyn frowned. "I wasn't wandering around. I don't wander. And I was actually here all day." She wrung her hands together. "Honestly, I'd really rather not talk about it right now, if you don't mind—not if you'd like me to stay sane." She paused then and whispered, "Please...don't make me."

"Make you?" He raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze with concern.

"Yes," she replied. "Make me. You know, with your eyes—

and your voice. The way you made me answer your questions earlier."

Nathaniel was astonished. He caught his breath and turned to take a more serious look at the intelligent woman. She had incredible instincts. More than that, actually; she just seemed 51