What Rough Beast [Blood Oath 1] (8 page)

She needed to know more, and she was determined to focus on that, not on the overwhelming urge to flee, shrieking, as fast as her legs could carry her.

Considering she'd never awoken in a man's bed before, Kate thought she was managing pretty well.

"
Non
? Never?” Luc chuckled. “Garrick will be pleased."

She froze at his amused drawl, her instinctive dread almost overriding whatever sense of self-preservation David might've beaten into her. She bit her lip until she drew blood and controlled the urge to run, though it was a near thing. Thank God for bravado. Given a choice between a bluff and a cringe? She'd brazen it out every time. “Yeah, well, if you think that makes me a virgin, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

"Garrick's too lusty for a shivering virgin, and I've no patience for soothing one."
Luc flashed a wicked grin. “Don't worry, bebe. You suit us both perfectly."

Kate pushed down abrupt screaming fear.

Blustering through this? Not smart. But analyzing her circumstances wasn't going to work either. Thinking wouldn't save her life because thinking—- for instance, thinking that Luc had read her mind, which of course he couldn't—thinking like that only encouraged her to run.

So she wouldn't think. Not about Garrick. Not about the stranger she'd slept with—

"My blood runs in you, ma cherie. We are strangers no more."

She gasped.

Oh God.

He could read her mind.

Her eyes narrowed.

No, he damn well couldn't. That was impossible, and it would
stay
impossible, thank you very much. Everybody knew stuff like that just didn't happen. It wasn't real—

She winced because, hey,
vampires
weren't real either, right?

The reality she'd known and the one Kate had experienced over the past days waged war inside her until she couldn't stand the jarring, discordant clamor inside her head anymore. “You can't read my mind. Nobody can read minds. I've asked you repeatedly to stop. So stop it. Stop it right now."

He hugged her. “We are linked by my blood. As your guardian, living inside your mind is natural to me, as well as necessary for your care and protection. I can no more stop than I can stop breathing."

Her mind kept spinning, overwhelmed with ideas and fears she couldn't deal with. She just wanted to be normal again.

He snorted. “Normal is overrated. And irrelevant. You are no longer human, chere. You are vampyr. Strong. Powerful. Immortal by human standards. Even weakened by the transition, you are greater than Garrick and I combined. You are the most powerful of all vampyr—an unmated female."

Blah, blah, blah.

Pretty talk.

Empty words.

Kate sighed.

"Relax. You are safe now—free to explore your new nature."

Free.

Lord, how she wished she was free. She'd walk out the door and right back to her apartment on Pennsylvania Avenue. To the generic cubicle she shared at the office, to her cantankerous Mazda. She even missed her Visa bill. “I wish I could call home to let my mom know I'm okay. She must be frantic."

"We've discussed this.” He frowned. “It's not healthy—or wise."

"I don't see where it'd hurt.” She scowled at him.

"Your mother is a remarkable woman,” a deep, rumbling voice called from the shadows of the doorway.

She froze.

Garrick.

She hadn't seen him much since Luc had carried her from the garage into these rooms several nights ago. A part of her had hoped to never see him again, had hoped he'd left while she'd slept, fed, and slept some more. But another more sensible part of her must have known. Over the past nights, both she and Luc had moved around the suite of rooms, he supporting her as she'd walked on unsteady legs to rebuild her strength.

But she's avoided that door, the very door in which Garrick lingered. The door to outside.

The door to freedom?

No.

Kate might've become a vampire, but it hadn't made her stupid. That door didn't lead to freedom. It led to all the scary things and what she didn't want to face.

Like him.

"She's organized volunteers to walk David's estate in a grid and asked for more people to finish the job on Larry King tonight.” He stepped into the room. “To help bring you home."

Her fingers dug into Luc's stomach.

Garrick's shadowy bulk advanced on them.

"Shh, bebe. I am here."

"Garrick,” Luc said in soft warning.

"The search has been impeded by the discovery of the other bodies. David liked to play with his food.” He made tsking sounds in the back of his throat. “But still, she hopes. You can see it in her eyes. She's accepted your death. Her grief is...obvious. But her most desperate wish is to find your body and evidence that you did not suffer."

Kate blinked, her heart seizing in her chest.

Dear God, her mother.

He was talking about her mother.

As bad as this had been for her, it was probably killing her mom. With her brother in Milwaukee and her father long gone, Kate was all Mom had left. She'd be devastated.

"I don't believe she'll rest until she has safely planted you in the ground, but you are not dead, so she will not rest. She'll continue fruitlessly searching until she dies.” He shrugged. “Remarkable, remarkable human."

Wetness gathered in her eyes as his words sliced deep. Because she knew her mother would. Search. Until her last dying breath.

"It's all right."

"You're scaring her,” Luc growled.

"No.” He sat on the bed and traced a light finger down her shoulder.

She pushed into Luc's embrace at the unwelcome heat that sparked in her belly at the caress, tried to slow the sudden thunder of her heartbeat.

Oh God.

Not good.

Not good at all.

"I didn't frighten Kate. I hurt her. Is that not so, love?"

She buried her nose in the crook of Luc's neck to hide from the implacable blankness of Garrick's gaze, but there was no hiding the betraying quiver that raced though her body.

Luc's arms tightened around her. “I won't warn you again."

Ignoring Luc's threatening snarl, Garrick stroked a lazy hand down her arm to her hip. The contrast of his cutting words and the silky seduction of his touch scared her. Aroused her. Damn it all to hell. She stifled a whimper but couldn't stop the shivering, didn't even try.

His lips curved to a smile. “Mourning her human life is normal, but returning to it? Permitting these fantasies is dangerous, Luc."

"Don't be an ass.” Fury roughened Luc's voice to a tight rumble. “Master, human, or rogue, none of them followed us. She's safe here. We've time for Kate to grow accustomed—"

"Only as little as my patience allows."

His hand tightened on Kate's hip, fingers digging deep into her flesh. So much Kate feared the other vampyr might tear her from Luc's grasp.

Fear?

That quickening of her pulse couldn't be anticipation.

Surely not.

Certainly not.

To hell with the wicked tingle working through her traitorous body. Forget the hollow ache balling the pit of her stomach. Garrick absolutely was
not
turning her on. No way.

He was cold. Pitiless.

And seriously scary.

He was enormous. Kate had heard people were shorter historically, that men and women grew taller as the centuries passed. Luc, who skated only a couple inches above her five and half feet, gave that vaguely recalled factoid credence, but Garrick blew the theory out of the water because he was a mountain. Huge. At a guess, he towered several inches above six feet, but nobody would ever mistake him for a basketball player. Nope. He was solid muscle, not sculpted like a weightlifter so she knew the mouthwatering physique hadn't come from a gym, though his shoulders were as impressive.

Not that she'd looked.

Much.

But holy crap, the man was built like a tank. Who could blame her for checking him out? With eye candy like him hovering in the background, she'd have to be dead not to look, and as Luc constantly assured her, vampire or vampyr, she was very much alive.

Alive and drooling over Satan incarnate.

Her hormones had apparently recovered from the whole turning-into-vampire thing, but her common sense? Uh-uh. Not a lick. Every time he got anywhere near her, a flash of heat streaked down her spine, and no amount of arguing with herself dented the constant arousal that was becoming her new best friend.

Not cool.

She was supposed to be scared—No! Kate genuinely
was
scared of him.

She was.

The scar that bisected his left cheek and eyebrow disturbed her. Luc had told her that she needn't fear scarring from her time with David, that vampires didn't scar, and she'd seen twisty ropes of her mending skin smooth to threads with her own eyes. Soon, the marks would be gone. Her appendix scar was fading too, and she'd had it since she was twelve.

Yet Garrick's scar remained, a jagged white slash against his bronzed skin.

Kate's mother had drilled manners into her as a child, but she never would've found the courage to ask how Garrick had acquired the scar regardless of her mother's stubborn standards of proper behavior. Whatever had caused it, whatever had gotten the best of Garrick, Kate decided she was best ignorant of.

It wasn't just his physical presence that made her heart pound when she sensed him nearby, though. It was the whole package. He seldom spoke and even more rarely to her, which was a relief because if he ever stared at her with those dead blue eyes, she might scream. During the trip from Illinois, she'd never seen him shaken, never seen him smile, or heard his laugh. He was gorgeous. Very true. But she suspected Garrick could kill and never warrant a single raised blip on a heart monitor. He had the emotional range of a Cuisinart.

So now she was drooling over a spine-meltingly sexy Satan incarnate who also happened to be a sociopath.

Great.

This vampire thing just kept getting better and better.

"Now you're scaring her,” Luc said, his voice low and threatening.

Garrick caught her staring at him and arched an eyebrow.

Cheeks burning, she glanced quickly away.

She was scared all right.

Scared of the heat spreading through her hypersensitive body, scared of the electric tingle of awareness that made her feel so unbearably empty. Scared to feel all these wonderfully feral urges for—hello—a freaking vampire who had the charisma of a small kitchen appliance.

He'd touched her.

A casual stroke of one hand.

One.

And she was melting into a needy puddle.

Yeah, that was pretty fucking disturbing.

Garrick's grip eased on her by slow, steady degrees.

She released the breath she'd been holding in a quiet rush and almost freaked because she couldn't tell if the churning in her stomach was relief or disappointment.

"You're young, Luc. You've yet to experience how the need eats at your honor, your sanity. After five centuries, you too will welcome death or madness. Didn't you wonder how I found you so fast? I was in America in hopes Aidan would take pity on me and grant me the dignity of death. Had you not found Kate, we would have stood before the rebel council, you with your sword. To take my head."

He threaded his fingers through the wispy ends of her hair.

Kate stilled, prey sensing the predator set to pounce, and angled her jaw toward him because, God, that felt good. Oh, and because she was a silly twit. A slutty one too.

Mustn't forget that.

But she wanted him to tunnel his hand into her hair, pull her mouth to his. Her lips parted at just the thought of what he'd taste like, how soft his mouth would be, but so deliciously demanding.

Wanton need skittered up her spine.

"I would have thanked you for that kindness.” Garrick laughed, a toneless, chilling sound that made the hair on her nape stand at attention. “You may take my head yet. Mark my words—I am
not
to be trusted."

His hand fisted in her hair.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Her body tensed in anticipation. Oh yes, anticipation. Kate was a realist. Call a spade a spade. So what if he was a psychopathic Cuisinart? She wanted him.

But he didn't pounce.

Luc shifted beneath her instead.

Garrick released her.

When her eyes flashed open, the edge of Luc's dagger drew a bead of blood from Garrick's jugular.

Her heart jumped.

Her mind screamed no, and a tight ball of panic lodged in her throat as she imagined the knife carving through his throat.

"Not as sexy as a sword, but the blade will separate your head from your shoulders nonetheless.” Luc's smile didn't reach his eyes. “And I won't care if you thank me."

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He'd do it.

Kate didn't know where the dagger had come from, but she read the truth in the ruthless glitter in Luc's black eyes. He'd slash through Garrick's neck with the same ease he'd spread butter on warm toast.

Kate gulped. Sick terror churned in her belly, not of Garrick but for him.

"Time is a luxury my control can ill afford. You understand that now?"

In spite of the dagger or perhaps because of it, Garrick's gaze, always before so carefully empty, shone now with an agony of need and encroaching madness that ripped at Kate with the same ferocity as her fear. She should be afraid of him. And she was. Her mind shrieked in warning, but the awakening arousal inside her wouldn't be denied, nor could she turn away from the torment he'd kept hidden away.

She lifted her hand, reaching for him before she realized she'd left the cradle of Luc's embrace. She slid to Garrick, so close she steeped her senses for the first time in the woodsy, earthy scent of him, and her touch skated the hard line of his jaw.

Her eyes focused on the droplet of blood the dagger had released. Shaking with nerves and need, she batted the blade away. She swept rich scarlet onto the tip of her finger, distantly surprised by the slick heat. Kate drew it to her lips and licked the drop clean.