Not Quite Dead (A NightHunter Novel) (6 page)

Doubt flickered in her eyes, and he realized she'd asked that same question many times, and hadn't liked the possibilities. Shit. What was going on with his brother? The more questions he asked, the murkier the situation became.

Jordyn leaned forward, pinning him with her intelligent, relentless gaze. "Why did you ask me about vampires when you first mentioned he was missing? Back when we were in the jungle?"

He thought back to that woman's scream, and the animal he'd heard. "Do you believe in werewolves? Werepanthers? Monster beasts from hell? Vampires?"

Her gaze met his, and he didn't see the amusement he'd been hoping for at his mention of mythical beasts. "I don't know what exactly I believe," she said softly, blessedly giving him a direct answer to one of his questions, "but I've seen a lot of things in the swamps that I can't explain. People see things. People disappear. Nightmares come alive. Everyone who has lived here for a long time has stories. But yes, I believe vampires are real."

"You do? Damn." He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, digesting her response. It was getting less and less likely that there was an easily solvable explanation for what had happened in the swamp tonight. "Jordyn, I know my brother, and I know that he'd never risk resurrecting someone, let alone do it eight times. But he did it for you, and then he resurrected someone else, possibly a vampire. I need to understand what's going on with him. Tell me what happened between you and Tristan. Start from the beginning. How do you know him?"

Jordyn took a sip of her drink, and sighed in capitulation. "Do you want the short answer or the long one?"

"Don't leave anything out. It might help me figure out why he decided to help you." Satisfaction settled in him, and he clasped his hands on top of his head, letting her voice roll through him as he leaned back to listen. He hadn't been lying about missing the sound of her voice. He had. Sitting with her and listening to her talk felt good.

She shrugged, spinning her glass between her fingers restlessly, as if she were uncomfortable getting personal. "I left here when I was sixteen. I didn't want to be a part of this world. I wanted out." There was a tinge of vulnerability in her voice that caught his attention.

She wasn't giving him a direct answer about Tristan, but she was talking, and that was good. Really good, in fact, because as she spoke, he realized he was more than a little interested in finding out more about her. He wasn't going to lie: it wasn't simply so he could figure out why Tristan had bonded with her. He wanted to know because he was intrigued by her.

He watched her play with her drink, and he realized he liked the fact it was pink, revealing the softer side that she tried to keep buried. "Why did you want out?"

She gave him a hard stare. "I didn't have an idyllic childhood," she said defensively. "But that's not the point. I left here, and I met a Calydon warrior. He was sexy, and tough, and he thought I was amazing." Her voice softened, and a stab of jealousy shot through him. "I fell in love instantly, and then later discovered I was his
sheva
." She looked at him. "Do you know what that is?"

He stared at her in shock, denial raging through him. She was another man's
sheva
? It had been bad enough when he'd thought that she and his brother had something going on, but for her to be metaphysically bonded with another male, unable to see or feel anything for any other man?
Shit.
Even as he thought it, he vaguely recalled her mentioning it before in the jungle. He hadn't really been paying attention back then. He'd been more concerned about the other things they'd been dealing with, and, at that point, Jordyn had been more of an interesting challenge to his seduction skills. Now, she was a woman to him, and it was different. He didn't like that she had been a
sheva.
Not one bit. "I know what a
sheva
is. It's a soul mate," he said, unable to keep the edge from his voice. "A physical, emotional, and metaphysical bond that locks a Calydon and his woman together for all time. Nothing can come between them."

She met his gaze. "Nothing, except murder."

"Murder?" He'd been expecting declarations of true love, eternal bliss, and deep, passionate intensity that had ruined her for all other men.

He had not been expecting
murder.

Eric's face went blank, as if he were hiding his emotions, but his eyes were intelligent as he rapidly processed her statement. "Your soul mate was murdered?" he asked.

Of course he would have figured it out. She'd be traveling the world alone only if her soul mate was dead. Nothing else could tear them apart. "Yes, he was murdered."
Yes, yes, yes.
The words hammered at her.

His expression suddenly softened, and she saw empathy in his face. Empathy. The first soft emotion she'd ever seen on his face, and it was empathy for the fact her soul mate had been murdered? Guilt flashed through her. "Don't feel sorry for me," she said quietly. "I was the one who killed him."

She waited for the condemnation, for the disgust to flash across his face. What woman murdered her soul mate? The reason was never enough, not even the fact that the
sheva
destiny was supposed to result in a
sheva
killing her soul mate. What was fate? A mindless excuse not to take control of her own life. She didn't believe it gave her an excuse for what she'd done.

His face hardened, and anger flashed in his eyes. His jaw stiffened, and she tightened her fingers around her glass, waiting for the accusation.

"Why?" he asked.

She lifted her chin defensively, preparing to launch into the sordid details of what had happened. Not that the facts changed anything or excused her, but because she had to tell him the whole story, as if maybe, just maybe, he would see something besides a cold-blooded murderer. "Because—"

"You mentioned this in the jungle, didn't you? When we were with Rohan's team?"

She frowned, trying to remember what she'd told the crew. She'd been so consumed with finding her friend and facing down an entire team of over-testosteroned Calydons, as well as trying not to notice her reaction to Eric, that she hadn't really thought about it. But now that he pointed it out, she realized she had. "I guess I did." She lifted her chin, preparing for him to give her a hard time about it, now that he was actually paying attention enough to register it. It was almost comforting to realize that she wasn't the only one who'd been so distracted in the jungle.

"When you told us about it," he said, his voice edged with razor sharp lethalness, "you never told us what the bastard did to deserve it."

"What?" She was startled by his statement. There had been no accusation in his tone. Not toward her, at least. His anger was directed at her soul mate, as if he'd automatically assumed it wasn't her fault. Suddenly, she had to look away, fighting against a surge of emotions she couldn't afford to feel. The bar was dark, and the patrons had started clearing out. There were only a few left, including the man at the bar who'd looked so haunted and ill.

"Jordyn?" Eric touched her arm, jerking her attention back to him. "What did he do to you?" His jaw was tense. "Did he hurt you?"

Electricity seemed to jump through her at his touch, and a part of her wanted to put her hand over his so he couldn't break the contact between them. Instead, she clasped her hands in her lap, refusing to let herself be weak enough to ask for help. "He went rogue," she said.

Rogue. What a simple word to describe a hell worse than anything she could have envisioned. On a literal level, a rogue Calydon was one who had lost his humanity and surrendered to the demon blood circulating through them all. Red eyes, deadly rage, and an utter loss of morality. A mindless beast who slaughtered at random, whatever was within his reach. But it was so much more. To see the man she had loved consumed by the monster had been horrific. To hear the screams of their family, friends, and daughter as he tore through them had been devastating. She could still smell the coppery blood of those she loved. She'd been surrounded by carnage where there had once been safety, and by blind hatred where there had been love. That night had been the utter betrayal and loss of everything that mattered

Eric's fingers tightened on her arm, and understanding softened the hard lines of his face. "The
sheva
bond was completed? And then he went rogue and destroyed everything that mattered to you both? Just like the
sheva
destiny commands will occur?"

She nodded, biting her lip as memories of that horrible night flashed in her mind. She'd tried to put it out of her mind, but the images were too strong. She had to tell him. She had to talk about it. She'd never spoken about it, not even to Tristan, but for some reason, she wanted Eric to know, as if maybe he could understand the depths of what had happened and it would expunge the stain from her soul. "We were having a party," she said softly. "It was our wedding anniversary. We'd worked hard not to complete the bonding stages, and trigger the
sheva
destiny. I was so in love." She looked away, her throat tightening. "And then, he got drunk." Drunk.
Drunk.
She would never forget the chill that went down her spine when she'd realized he was drunk. After all the hell with her father, she was terrified of men who drank. Walter had always had drinks, but he'd never been actually drunk, until that night.
Until that night.

"Why do men get drunk?" she asked, turning back to Eric. "Why do they have to do that?"

"They don't all get drunk." Eric looked down at the beer in front of him, and then he slid it away from him. "But yeah, some of them do."

She studied his glass, now on the other side of the table from him. "You're not drinking it?"

"No. It makes you uncomfortable. I don't need it." He drummed his fingers on the table, the only outward indication of the tension radiating through him. "What did he do?"

"The blood bond," she said, still staring at the beer. He really wasn't going to drink it, just because she didn't like it? He didn't even know her. He owed her nothing. And yet, there his beer sat, on the far end of the table, untouched. Walter had always drank, never crossing the line to intoxication, but he'd always enjoyed that pleasure in life, telling her to trust his ability to handle it.

She had. Big mistake.

Eric touched her arm. "It's not going to bite you," he said. "Ignore it. I want to hear what happened."

She pulled her gaze off his abandoned beer and looked at him. "Once Walter was drunk, he had no willpower to resist the call of our connection. He grabbed me and pinned me down in the kitchen. He called out his weapon, ripped it across his chest and my hand, and then completed the blood bond with me. I couldn't stop him. He was insanely strong, a thousand times stronger than I was."

A muscle ticked in Eric's jaw. "Of course he was. He was a Calydon. He had no business using his strength against you." A dark energy seemed to roll off Eric and over her skin. It was a cold, hard energy that sent prickles over her skin. "Worthless piece of shit."

Jordyn couldn't help the smile that flickered across her face at Eric's words. He was so outraged that it felt good. "The blood bond was the only stage of the bond we hadn't completed. It had been calling to him for so long, but he'd held off. But once he was drunk..." She shrugged. "You know the old saying, how inhibitions vanish when the alcohol gets flowing?"

"He had no business drinking in that situation. He deserved to die. How dare he endanger his soul mate like that?" Eric looked so furious, which should have scared her, but it didn't, because she could sense it was contained, unlike Walter's insanity. Somehow, for some reason, she trusted Eric.

During those years with Walter, she'd always lived with the fear of the
sheva
destiny. She spent every minute looking over her shoulder, wondering when and if the man she loved was going to become a monster, which, of course, he eventually had.

But with Eric, it felt different. He was even less refined than Walter had been. He had an edge of untamed wildness. He was arrogant and too sexy for anyone's good. He was flippant and irreverent. He was strong, so much bigger and stronger than she was, easily able to overpower her. And yet...for some reason, she wasn't afraid of him.

She took a deep breath, needing to finish her story. She hadn't told anyone the details before. It was too gruesome, something she didn't want to remember or think about, but somehow, finally putting it into words for Eric seemed to be taking some of its power away. "The minute it was finished, he went rogue." Memories of bright red blood spraying through the air flashed in her mind, and she flinched. "There was so much blood. The bodies of my friends, literally torn apart. My poor daughter." Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, and she couldn't stop them. "He went crazy. I'd heard about Calydons going rogue, but nothing had prepared me for it. It was...it was like a scene from a horror movie. I couldn't stop screaming. I was just screaming at him to stop, and it was as if I didn't even exist. I couldn't do anything."

Eric swore viciously, and he moved his chair around the table, invading her space. He set one arm over the back of her chair, and leaned into her. His gaze was dominating, and unyielding, sending shivers down her spine. She knew she should tell him to back off, but there was something about his overpowering presence that was incredible and felt amazing.

"Listen to me, Jordyn," he said. "It's not your fault. A rogue Calydon is a monster that only specially trained warriors can defeat. Only the elite warriors in the Order of the Blade can stop them. It's not your fault you couldn't protect them."

He was so adamant that, for a moment, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to retreat back into her naive world and believe him, but she couldn't. She knew too much. Sadly, she trailed her finger down his jaw, sliding over his rough whiskers, somehow wanting to convey to him that she was touched by his support, even though she couldn't accept it. "No," she said. "It was my fault. I have to take responsibility. Tristan warned me, but I didn't listen."