Not Quite Dead (A NightHunter Novel) (39 page)

"Well, I don't like him messing with my woman, so he's going to get his ass kicked today." He tugged lightly on her hair. "I might not be a NightHunter, but I have skills." His gaze went to her eyes, and his face softened. "And I have motivation," he said softly, just as he leaned forward to kiss her.

His kiss was pure beauty. His lips were so soft and tender against hers, a caress that went right to her heart. She could feel his hunger for her coursing through him, urging him to take her body and blood, and yet his kiss was undemanding and his teeth never came near her lips, let alone her body. She could feel his iron-willed restraint, battling his need for her with every fiber of his being. His protectiveness wrapped around her like a fierce shield, drawing her tightly against him as his spirit enfolded her. She felt the intensity of his drive to protect her, but there was something else, something deeper. She sensed a vulnerability in his shields, a crack through which she had filtered, breaking through the walls he'd held around himself for so long.

Her heart jumped, and she pulled back, staring into his eyes, shocked at the depth of his feelings for her. "You love me?"

A muscle ticked in his cheek, and his hand tightened in her hair. The silence stretched between them, thick and rich, and she knew then that he did.

And she also knew he would never admit it, not even to himself, which made her own heart swell with empathy. She pressed a kiss to his palm. "You're an arrogant, emotionally reserved loner," she said softly. "You make me laugh. You make me want to live again. So, it doesn't matter what you feel. I will always love you for all that you are to me." Before he could respond to the words she'd never thought she would utter again, she leaned forward and kissed him.

She expected him to reject her, to throw up walls between them, but he didn't. He wrapped his hand around the back of her head, hauled her against him, and kissed her like his life depended on it. The kiss wasn't tender or sweet. It was a desperate joining of two souls, struggling toward a light that neither of them had believed in. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, offering him everything she had. She poured a lifetime of anguish into the kiss, and a lifetime of love that had burned her. She gave it all to him, and with each kiss, he held her more tightly and kissed her more deeply, until their souls were so entwined that his darkness and her lightness were blurred together as a single unit.

His hunger roared through him, and desire flushed through her, an answering need that was far deeper than simple lust. It was a primal bond that came from deep within her, from a place beyond her soul.
Eric.

He broke the kiss, wrenching his lips from hers. For a moment, neither of them moved, and the only sound in the truck was the sound of their heavy breathing. Eric rested his forehead against hers, one hand still in her hair, and his other arm around her waist, not releasing her. "I can't do this to you," he said. "This isn't your world."

"I make my own choices. I thought we established that from the beginning." She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent, a mixture of earth, danger, and wildness.

"Don't love me," he said, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

She lifted her head to look at him, startled by the anguish in his eyes. She felt the depth of his guilt for those he'd killed, and for the fact that he'd drawn her into his world. Her heart tightened, and she knew that this man was the one she'd been waiting for. "It's too late for that," she said. "It's too late for both of us. We can't just disengage. We can only hold on with everything we have."

"It's not too late." He stroked his hand through her hair. "It's never too late to walk away—"

"Shut up." She pressed her finger to his lips. "Walter never truly committed to what was between us. He held back, knowing that he was going to snap. If you hold back, you're endangering us the same way. Don't you understand that the only way for us to win is to let this happen between us? If my grandmother's love for Cicatrice was so strong it could bind them across death for almost four hundred years, then we can be so tightly connected that Cicatrice can't break us apart. We have to do it. Don't you get it?"

His hand stilled. "Cicatrice used your grandmother's love to kill her and assault her granddaughter." He gently extricated her hands from around his neck. "Love can be the greatest betrayal of all, Jordyn. We both know that." He reached behind him and produced his dagger. "It clouds the mind and muddies the vision." Her heart fell as he put it into her hand. "I have a feeling you'll need this, sweetheart."

Frustration roared through her. "Dammit, no! Stop it, Eric! I'm so tired of this—"

His face suddenly paled, and he grunted, his hand going to his chest. She stared at him in horror as a thin trickle of dark blood spread across the front of his tee shirt.

"Oh, God." She jerked his shirt up, and she saw claw marks across his chest, right over his heart. Just as Cicatrice had done to her in her sleep. "He's coming after you."

"He's killing Tristan." Eric grabbed the stakes off the floor of the truck, bracing his forearms on his thighs as another shudder wracked his body. "Get driving, sweetheart. Time's up."

Jordyn jammed the truck into gear, and hit the gas. The vehicle leapt forward, fishtailing across the dirt as she sped down road. "He knows we're coming," she said, her heart thundering as the truck hurtled toward the mansion. "He's luring us into a trap."

"Yeah, I know." Sweat was trickling down Eric's brow, and she felt the shift in energy as he called his magic to protect him. "But he doesn't know exactly how pissed I am that he's hurting my brother and hunting my woman."

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, anger rolling through her. Cicatrice had hurt too many people she loved. She was tired of running, not just from him, but from Walter, from her past, and from everything. No more running. It was time to fight.

She looked over at Eric, and he nodded his agreement. "Together," she said.

"Together," he agreed.

Silently, he set down one stake and held out his hand. She took one hand off the steering wheel and clasped his. An unspoken promise of more than either of them could put into words.

Minutes later, after breaking the speed limit and watching the bloodstain on Eric's shirt get bigger, Jordyn finally slowed the truck, coasting to a stop at the entrance of the long, dirt driveway. The bushes were overgrown, creeping across the abandoned driveway as if they'd decided it was their job to keep trespassers out.

Through the trees, she glimpsed the mansion that Skye had lived in, the one Oba had lived in with Cicatrice. It was silent and dark, a mausoleum of terrible things that Skye had experienced there. A dark, lethal curtain seemed to coat it, and she shivered. "I can feel him."

"Me, too." Eric glanced at the sun, and she saw that it was lower in the sky, but still strong. "If we die, I'll find you in the afterlife. You won't be alone. I swear it."

Her throat tightened. "I know you will." It wasn't a declaration of love exactly, but it was enough to make her want to cry. "But just so you know, I'm not going to sit around waiting for you. I'll find you first."

He grinned. "That's my girl."

She smiled back, and then she hit the gas and headed up the driveway.

Eric felt the brush of evil as Jordyn navigated the winding driveway. It was thick and heavy, like tainted blood blanketing the air. The overgrown trees blocked most of the sun, and he pulled some of his magic away from protecting him from the sun. He redirected it outward, sending tentacles into the surrounding area. His energy bounced off the trees, and a few small animals, but there were no dead spots that would indicate a vampire. "I can't locate him."

He didn't like not knowing where the threat was coming from, and he instinctively moved closer to Jordyn, using his body to shield her as she drove. He had two stakes in his left hand, but he kept his right hand free to use for magic. A ball of energy began to form in his right palm, and he reached out, calling to the spirits of the dead. They surged to him, delighted at the opportunity to latch onto him. He summoned them from everywhere, accepting them all, sweeping them into him, and assembling their power.

"I can feel what you're doing." Jordyn didn't even look at him as she guided the truck past the potholes. "Don't push it too far. If you implode, you can't help Tristan. Or me." She reached out with her mind to offer him some of her more positive spirits, but he kept his shields strong between them.

"I can't worry about protecting you from myself," he said. "I need to make sure you're secure against all threats so I can focus. Let me shield you."

She glanced at him. "I don't want you to die," she said softly.

Something tightened in his chest. "I know, honey. I'll do my best—" Pain suddenly ricocheted through his chest, and his ribs cracked. He bent over, gasping for air, as Jordyn's door was ripped open.

A streak of black smoke whipped into the cab, wrapped around Jordyn, and dragged her out of the truck. She yelped and grabbed onto the steering wheel, trying to anchor herself. "Eric!"

"Hey!" Eric lunged for her, but her fingers slipped off just as he reached for her wrist, and she disappeared out of the car.

"Jordyn!" He dove across the seat and shot out of the truck. He hit the air and instinctively dissolved into a mist. He had a split second "what the hell" moment when he turned into particles, and then embraced it and streaked across the expansive, overgrown yard in pursuit of the black smoke wrapped around Jordyn. Cicatrice was entwined around Jordyn, almost completely obscuring her from Eric's view as he dragged her back toward the towering mansion. She was struggling to get free, but the mist was over her mouth and eyes, silencing her.

"Let her go!" He kept a tight grip on his magic, bearing down on the older vampire with surreal speed. He urged his hand to take shape out of the mist, and then he fisted the glowing ball of light he'd been channeling before the attack. He summoned all his energy, coiling it tighter and tighter as Cicatrice began to pull away, outpacing Eric.
Shield yourself, Jordyn.
He gave her a split second of warning, and then unleashed his magic at the master vampire. The magic exploded from him and tore after Cicatrice.

Eric's magic hit Cicatrice with violent force, and there was a massive boom that threw Eric backward. He lost his mist form and slammed into a tree as Cicatrice's black mist dissolved in a thousand particles. Jordyn began to fall, tumbling from thirty feet in the air.

"Jordyn!" Eric lunged to his feet and raced across the ground, trying to get to her—

The master vampire suddenly took the shape of a man, and the shadowy figure streaked across the sky. He scooped up Jordyn before Eric could get to her, and shot back into the sky, sweeping her away from him.

"She's my mate, and you can't bond with her as long as I'm alive," Eric shouted, his hands fisted by his sides.

Cicatrice looked back over his shoulder, his booming laugh scraping across Eric's flesh. His face was pale, and his cheeks were sunken, but his eyes were a deep black of power. A black duster hung from his broad shoulders, a sharp contrast to his starched white shirt. For a split second, the two vampires stared at each other, and then Cicatrice whirled around and charged directly at him, Jordyn tucked under his arm. She twisted, and he glimpsed her grandmother's stake in her hand. She still had it! That was his woman, all right.

"Come and get me!" Eric leapt into the air and launched himself at Cicatrice. As Eric streaked toward him, his fingers curved into claws, and he felt his fangs lengthen. His vision shifted into a blood-red hue, and the hunger to take a life raged through him. His upper lip curled in a snarl, and his entire focus went onto the creature hurtling toward him.

In his left hand, Eric held a stake, but his right was empty of everything but his own power. He braced himself, preparing for a collision. "Now!" he shouted to Jordyn. They crashed into each other, and the impact sent them both tumbling through the air.

Cicatrice's hand slammed into Eric's chest, and he felt the claws clamp around heart. Swearing, he gripped Cicatrice's wrist, holding the vampire's hand in his chest so he couldn't rip out his heart. At the same time, he shoved his own stake straight into Cicatrice's heart.

For a moment, they stared at each other, and then the stake was sucked out of Eric's hand and went right through the other vampire's chest and burst out the other side. The stake tumbled to the ground as Cicatrice healed the wound instantly.

Shit. The ordinary stake had done
nothing
to the vampire. They needed her grandmother's stake.

"And now you die." Cicatrice twisted Eric's heart, and he gasped, tightening his grip on Cicatrice's arm, trying to immobilize the vampire so he couldn't rip his heart out. At the same time, Eric tried to jam his own hand into Cicatrice's chest, but his claws couldn't penetrate the older vampire's skin. Eric hit him again, and again, fighting to distract him while Jordyn twisted around, trying to get the right angle.

Pain ripped through his chest, and he felt his body weakening as Cicatrice tightened his grip on Eric's heart.
Jordyn?

I got it.
She twisted around, and he saw her arm arcing up from beneath to slam her grandmother's stake into the master vampire's chest. The stake was glowing red now, and all the runes carved on it were dark black, standing out against the red. It looked alive, and he knew with sudden certainty that it would work, even on a master vampire.

He released his grip on Cicatrice's wrist and grabbed the vampire's throat, tearing through the soft flesh. Cicatrice's free hand went up to stop him, exposing his chest so Jordyn could stake him. Eric felt his own heart being pried from his chest just as Jordyn slammed the stake upward toward Cicatrice's heart—