Ironic Sacrifice (13 page)

“We had some good times, that was for sure.” He grinned in remembrance. “Girl handled a wrench like she was born with one in her hand. I discovered her strength when the jack stand slipped out from a car I was working on. Akasha grabbed the El Camino, which probably weighed over a ton and held it up long enough for me to get out from under it. That’s when she told me about how her parents died. But she didn’t know about the government’s involvement at the time. Still, we suspected people looking for her. So when the cops showed up to arrest me, I told her to run. God, I wish I hadn’t.” He wiped a tear from his eye and Jayden shivered in dread of his next words.

“She was raped at gunpoint on the side of the road that very night. That’s another reason she’s scared of guns. First her parents get shot, then that.”

Jayden could only manage a sympathetic murmur. Her throat locked up with tears. She knew Akasha had a bad childhood, it was etched into her eyes, but this was more horrific than she imagined.

Max ground his cigarette into a pulp in the brass ashtray. “She got the bastard though. Knocked the gun out of his hand and beat him to death with her bare hands.”

“Good,” Jayden said, meaning it with all her heart.

He nodded in solemn agreement. “Then she took his car and drove until it ran out of gas. She ended up here in Coeur d’Alene, and was immediately picked up by the cops and placed in a group home.

She refused to tell them where she came from and it really griped their asses, so since she didn’t have any I.D. they somehow convinced the state to make one for her. They made her two years younger than she actually was, thinking she’d get pissed and give up her background.”

“Oh,” Jayden said. “So that’s what Akasha was talking about when she said that Silas wasn’t ‘playing Lolita’ with her.”

Max muttered a curse under his breath. “Yeah, and even if that weren’t the case, they didn’t become romantically involved until after she was legally eighteen. Still, there was some ugly talk around town when they got married, but most people understood. It wasn’t like he raised her from a baby or anything.”

“So, he became her legal guardian when she was seventeen, but really nineteen?” Jayden prodded, urging him back to the story. It looked like Akasha’s dart game was nearly finished.

“Yeah, and it was the best thing that ever happened to her. Of course at the time she didn’t see it that way.” He grinned. “Here she was, swept away by Prince Charming and taken to live in a castle and offered anything she could ask for, but by then she was so full of fear and pain that she felt nothing but suspicion.”

“I can understand that,” she said, her heart aching with sympathy. “It likely seemed too good to be true.”

“But eventually Silas broke through her defenses and taught her to love and trust again.” Max's voice rang with pride and gratitude. “Xochitl and her posse helped with that. As that ancient bloodsucker, Delgarias, had predicted, Akasha finally made friends. Silas nurtured that friendship inadvertently since he was instructed to guard them. Since he pretty much let them all run wild when they were visiting, his house became the official hangout. Hell, from what I hear, those kids practically lived with Akasha.”

“When did she find out that he was a vampire?” she asked.

Before Max could answer, the dartboard blared and Akasha dashed over to the bar.

“I smoked ‘em,” she said and beckoned the bartender for a refill.

Jayden averted her face and took another sip of wine, afraid that Akasha would discern the naked sympathy on her face. She knew there was more to the story, but after all she’d already heard anything else was hard to fathom.

Max was never able to tell her the rest.

Chapter Sixteen
to

On the walk back home, Jayden mulled over Max’s story. It was almost inconceivable that a person could have been through so much and yet be functional. No wonder Akasha drank so heavily. She glanced at the woman walking beside her. She was so tiny and delicate, yet so strong. Jayden’s heart went out to her and she hoped she could be a worthy friend.

When they arrived home, she watched Akasha step into Silas’s arms and felt a twinge of envy at the love they shared. So far, Razvan had never displayed more than a passing affection for her, only lust, and lately there had been little of that. Was it because of the excitement with Selena’s drama? Or had Hilda, that blonde vampire at the concert, been right after all and he was finished with her?

Silas bent down to whisper in Akasha’s ear and her husky laugh made Jayden feel like an interloper. Without bothering to say goodnight, she left them in their own little world and headed downstairs. She needed a shower. She reeked of cigarette smoke from the bar.

When she entered the room she and Razvan shared, Jayden heard the shower already running and her heart skipped a beat. He was back.
He was naked.

With a trembling hand, she opened the bathroom door. The sight of him stole her breath and awakened things low in her body. Through the glass shower door, beaded with moisture and just beginning to fog with steam, she could see rivulets of water running down his lithe muscular form. He looked an aquatic god.

“Hello, Jayden.” His deep voice echoed in the small room. “Would you care to join me?”

He still wants me!
An inner voice cried out in triumph.
For now,
another said dryly.

It took her a moment to find her voice amidst the clamor of hope and doubt coupled with the delectable sight of his nakedness.

“Sure,” she said, hoping she sounded nonchalant. “I needed a shower anyway.”

She took pains to remove her costume slowly so as not to reveal her eagerness. The cool air on her skin made her nipples harden instantly. Jayden slid the shower door open and stepped into the steamy cocoon to meet the apotheosis of her desires.

Razvan’s eyes met hers as he reached for the bar of soap. As he worked it into a sudsy lather his gaze promised dark pleasure.

“I bathed you the night I found you,” he said. “Do you remember?”

She shivered as she remembered waking up in a deliciously warm bath with him poised over her like a dark angel. His touch had been gentle then, but full of heat. Before she could reply, his soapy hands were working their magic on her again. Every inch of her body was treated to his sensual ministrations and he spent as much time on one area as he did in the last. By the time he was finished, she felt like she was going to melt into a puddle.

“You had better get your face,” he said, breaking the spell. “I don’t want to get soap in your eyes.

As she washed her face, she marveled at the intense pleasure that he was able to give her. She wanted to return the favor. When she was finished, her gaze slid down his body to rest on his hardness below.

***

Razvan watched with astonishment as Jayden sank to her knees. He sucked in a breath as her fingers wrapped around his shaft and nearly came out of his skin when her tongue darted out to flick across its tip. Her lips encircled him and she began to make love to him with her mouth. He groaned and braced his hand on the tiled wall, overcome with the sensation of the warm water pelting his shoulders and Jayden’s hot mouth around his cock.

When the pleasure nearly became too much to bear, he grasped her under her arms and pulled her to her feet. He covered her neck with kisses and nipped her earlobe before whispering, “Wrap your legs around me.”

With a low moan that threatened to bring him to his knees, Jayden obeyed him. As he lifted her, cupping her delectable rear, her heated core writhed against his cock, but he held her back. That wasn’t yet what he had in mind. Razvan turned her so that the shower spray was drenching her hair, making her look like a water nymph.

“Hold on to me,” he commanded.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion as he let go of her and reached for the shampoo. As she clung to him, he proceeded to wash her hair. The mixed sensations of him massaging her scalp as his shaft ground against her clit made her whimper in the most delightful manner. As he tilted her back to rinse her crimson tresses, Razvan licked and sucked her breasts until she was squirming in desperation. Her slippery wetness drove him mad.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Jayden?” he asked.

“Yes!” she cried.

He turned his back to the spray and set his woman down. Before she could say another word, he forced her around and gave her a spit second to brace her hands against the wall before he thrust into her from behind.

Jayden’s throaty cry fanned the flames of his lust and he pounded into her like something crazed. Her hips bucked against his, straining to match the frantic rhythm. When her sheath tightened and convulsed around him, he nearly roared in ecstasy as he exploded inside her.

When he took her into his arms and lowered his head to kiss her, the adoration in her dark emerald gaze was like a spear through his heart. If she would look at him like that forever, he would keep her for all eternity. But he knew better. Jayden was only infatuated with him because he was her rescuer. Once she gained control over her powers and her mind healed… and most of all when she was free from Selena’s threat, a threat which was his fault, she’d want to be free of him. He wasn’t a fool. He knew he had nothing to offer her besides money and skilled lovemaking. Jayden wasn’t greedy. And the lust would fade, it always did.

He tilted her chin up, noticing with a guilty pang that she had dark circles under her eyes. She had been through so much. And he made it worse by putting her in Selena’s path.

Razvan kissed her, savoring the delicious softness of her lips against his. “You should get some rest now.”

When they were tucked into the large bed, he cradled her in his arms and silently vowed to enjoy her for as long as he could.

Jayden watched the glowing numbers on the digital alarm clock on the bedside table while she listened to Razvan’s breathing even out into the rhythm of sleep. Finally the clock blinked 6:30 a.m. The sun would be coming up now.

She took a deep breath, dropped her shields and willed her mind to link with Razvan’s. In moments she was plunged into his memories.

***

In the spring of the twins’ third century, in the year 1437, Radu fell in love. Her name was Uta and she was the rich widow of one their numerous great grandnephews. Uta was a vision of loveliness with her silvery-blonde curls and wide grey eyes. But every time Razvan looked at her, a bitter taste filled his mouth. When Radu kissed her, Razvan wanted to vomit. He couldn’t explain his hostile feelings for the wench, nor could he completely hide them.

“Why are you growing your beard back?” he’d asked his brother, unable to hide his look of disgust. “You hated it.”

Radu stroked his scraggly whiskers and shrugged. “Uta thinks it makes me look more fearsome.”

“Your fangs should suffice,” Razvan countered. “Not only are you a fool to change yourself to please a wench, but you look like one with that unkempt mass upon your chin.”

“Why do you hate her so?” Radu asked with deceptive casualness.

His twin frowned. “I do not hate her…I just get a feeling that she is not all she seems. And you are different as well. Your conquests with women used to be legend. I cannot fathom why you would now settle for only one.”

“Perhaps I’ve changed. After all, it’s been three centuries.”

Razvan shook his head and quoted their father, “Time does not change a man, it only makes him more what he is.”

Radu glared back at him. “I believe you are merely jealous, brother!” With that, he stomped from the room and left the castle.

The brothers did not speak to each other for over a month. Radu spent every night with Uta, to their parents’ growing worry.

“It’s as if she has him bespelled,” Crina said one evening over her embroidery. “Do you suppose she is a witch?”

Razvan looked up from the sword he was polishing. “I don’t know, Mother, but I do not like her.”

Alexandru tapped out the bowl of his pipe and snorted. “Witches do not exist anymore, no matter what the mortal church declares. Radu is going through a phase. It will be painful for him, but it shall pass and he will learn. It is a rite for our kind.”

The matter came to head a few nights later when Radu entered the family solarium and bowed before Alexandru.

“I implore you, Voivode of this
ţări
and Lord vampire of this territory, to allow me to take my fair Uta to wife and make her one of us.”

Alexandru sighed. “I hear your plea, but I cannot grant your request, my son. I know this will cause you pain and I can only hope someday you will understand my refusal.”

“But why can’t I Change her?” Radu protested. “You have your
Bride,
why can’t I have mine?”

His eyes swam with unshed tears and Razvan felt his twin’s pain as if it were his own. However, Razvan doubted that the fair Uta felt the same deep affection for his brother.

“You are not ready, my son,” Alexandru said.

“Who are you to say when I am ready? Were you ‘ready’ when you met Mother? Who is ready for love? For the love of God, I am three hundred years old! A mortal man weds at thirty!” Radu’s fist shattered a stone protruding from the wall.

Crina rushed into the chamber, nearly tripping over her elaborate skirts. “Radu! There is no call for you to destroy our home. Your father only wants what is best for you, my son.” She reached forward to cradle him to her breast as she always did when he was upset.

Radu pushed her away and strode out of the room, tears falling unchecked to drench his beard. His black eyes glittered with fierce resolve. Crina’s face fell in hurt astonishment. Razvan stepped forward and gathered her in his arms, expecting to feel victorious, but a hard lump rose in his throat at his mother’s sorrow.

Alexandru pulled Crina from Razvan’s embrace, leaving him bereft of affection as usual. She went willingly, sobbing against her husband’s chest.

“Go and find your brother, Razvan,” the Voivode commanded. “Try and talk some sense into his thick head.”

Razvan grabbed a torch from a wall sconce and headed down the corridor in pursuit. But Radu was not in his chambers. He cursed Uta under his breath and headed for the village. Uta’s home was also empty. He remembered the look of determination on his brother’s tearstained face and was filled with foreboding. Was Radu planning something foolish?

His pulse raced as he searched the village for his twin. It was an hour before dawn when he was forced to give up.

To his relief, when Razvan returned to the castle, he heard Radu moving around in his bedchamber. He opened the door and his greeting died on his lips at the sight before him. A travelling satchel lay on the bed, and Radu was furiously stuffing clothing and sentimental objects into it.

Razvan closed the door carefully and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Radu planned to disobey their father and flee with Uta. Father would have no choice but to report such a transgression to the Elders, who would then hunt him down and punish his offense…possibly by death. Razvan couldn’t let his brother die. His mind raced as he weighed his options. Radu would never listen to him in such a state, and they were so evenly matched in combat it was doubtful Radu could be subdued. Razvan sighed. There was no choice but to approach Uta and try to reason with her. And he had to do it now, for he would bet his inheritance that Radu planned to take her at dusk.

Cursing the sun for working against him, Razvan thrust open the door to the parapet and leapt out into the waning night, flying faster than ever before. The sky was changing from black to grey when he arrived at Uta’s doorstep. He didn’t bother knocking and jerked the door open.

“Radu!” Uta leapt up from her seat. Her embroidery tumbled to the floor. An expression that resembled guilt too much to be anything else swam in her large eyes.

“It is Razvan,” he said and strode to her, grasping her shoulders. “Uta, you must not let Radu carry out his plan with you. If he does, you will both die.”

To his astonishment, Uta laughed, her eyes narrowed in flinty malice. “No, it is he that shall die. He and your accursed family. I know what you all are. I will not become a demon and this
ţări
will be safe.”

“What are you saying?” Razvan demanded, gripping her tighter.

Uta’s laughter returned, high and girlish and bubbling with madness. “You are too late! He has told me your secrets. I know how to bring God’s wrath upon you abominations and my soul has been cleaned in confession and penance.”

“You don’t love my brother at all!” He shook her. “Tell me what you have done, woman!”

She continued to laugh. “You’re too late! Too late!”

Uta’s laughter kindled Razvan’s rage to a furious peak. He shook her harder, screaming at her to explain her betrayal. He didn’t see the figure approaching the open doorway until he heard the snap of Uta’s neck breaking.

“You bastard!” Radu shrieked and charged at him.

“Listen, Radu, let me explain!” But his words had no effect and he was silenced as a fist connected with his jaw. The corpse of Radu’s lover slid to the floor.

The twins fought and grappled until Uta’s richly furnished home was in shambles. Razvan’s face began to burn as a feeble ray of the approaching sun fell on his profile. Radu stopped his assault and grabbed at his own face, groaning in agony.

“We finish this tonight,” he hissed. Unadulterated hatred flared from his red-rimmed eyes before he fled to seek a resting place from the killing dawn.

Razvan sighed and dashed off to find his own haven. The morning sapped his strength to fly. He only hoped Radu would be calm enough by evening to hear his explanation. It was too late to reach the castle, so he bedded down in a cave where he and Radu had taken refuge in their early days when they prowled too late.

Nightmares of fire and screams tormented him until the sun went down. As he awoke, it seemed he could still smell the smoke. In fact, the odor was so strong he could taste it. Razvan’s eyes snapped open. This was no dream.

The acrid smell of smoke seared his sensitive nostrils when he stepped out of the cave. The air was hazy and the moon was obscured by it. The fire had been big and it had been close. He quickened his pace, wishing he had the strength to fly, which would not come until he fed. He came to Uta’s home and stopped. Not only was there a pervasive odor of a recent fire, but the unmistakable scent of fresh blood rode the air nearby. The house was not burned. He stepped inside, and saw the abode had been ransacked and stripped of everything of value. A moment later, he discovered the source of the second smell. The place on the floor where Razvan had dropped Uta’s body was covered in blood. A deep groove was hacked into the wood. Someone had chopped off her head.

A smear of crimson trailed across the floor where the body had been dragged out the rear entrance. Razvan followed it. The scent of charred wood and flesh grew stronger with every step. Outside he found the smoldering remains of a funeral pyre. The vampire sucked in a breath. There was only one reason for someone to cut the head off a corpse and burn it: fear that it would rise again.

Uta’s last words echoed in his head.
“You are too late! He has told me your secrets. I know how to bring God’s wrath upon you abominations and my soul has been cleansed in confession and penance.”

Razvan ran for his family’s castle. If the villagers had feared Uta’s corpse enough to desecrate and burn it and she had told them the secret of the Nicolae family’s immortality… He ran faster, but each step and pump of his heart seemed to scream,
too late…too late!

The village was unnaturally still and silent as he passed through. The inns were dark and though a few candles burned in the windows of the houses, not a whimper of humanity was heard. Each and every door was adorned with some sort of symbol or talisman to ward off evil.

The closer he drew to his home, the stronger the stench of smoke became until he was choking on it. Even though he anticipated the worst, Razvan still fell to his knees with an agonized cry when he saw the scorched ruin of Castle Nicolae.

It looked as if it had been under siege for months. Large sections of the stone walls had crumbled and collapsed. A human arm protruded from one pile of rubble, a chisel still gripped in the white fist. The mystery became clear as Razvan pictured in his mind’s eye an army of stone masons hacking at the walls with their tools, using their skills to attack the weakest points. And all the while he had been asleep in the cave, helpless to come to his parents’ aid.

The wooden door was gone, the stone archway scorched to mark where it had been. With a sinking feeling, Razvan entered the ruin of his home. Over the years the Nicolae family had been replacing the wooden ceilings with stone, but the progress was fatally slow. The stars shone through gaping spaces above him. His skin burned with the realization that the sun’s deadly rays had pierced these chambers only hours ago.

Black chunks of charcoal littered the floor, making it hard to walk. It seemed hunks of burning wood had been thrown in to add to the conflagration. But there was still hope. The family’s sleeping chambers were below the castle.

“Mother?” Razvan called, wincing at the hollow echo of his voice against the blackened stone. “Father?”

There was no reply besides the muted whisper of the wind. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d held. His meager hope ebbed away when he reached the passage to the sleeping quarters. The narrow corridor was nearly impassable, so clogged was it with burned wood. Razvan pushed the obstructions away, shrieking in agony as a few remaining embers struck his hands and face.

His parents’ once luxurious chamber was a horror of scorched walls and charred rubble. He stepped forward and heard a sickening crunch. A blackened ribcage engulfed his boot. Razvan leapt back with a small cry and clapped a hand over his mouth. Another skeleton, this one smaller, lay nearby. Its bony fingers reached out as if seeking the hand of the other.

For an eternity his eyes stared into the gaping eye sockets of the skulls before him. They seemed to stare at him in furious accusation. He bit into the thick flesh of his hand until it bled, until the scream could be held in no longer.

It seemed he screamed for hours, screamed until his lungs burned and white stars danced in his vision. Razvan collapsed, oblivious to the pain as his knees struck the floor. He sobbed and gibbered like a madman, hitching in an occasional breath to call out for his mother and father. He longed for the comfort of his family; he longed for Radu…Radu!

He leapt to his feet and rushed to his brother’s chambers. Had the villagers gotten his brother as well? Razvan didn’t think so. They were twins, surely he would feel it if Radu was dead. The chamber was empty, and not nearly as damaged from the fire as that of their parents’ bower. There were no bones. Razvan breathed deep and murmured thanks to the fates. It appeared his brother was safe. But where was he?

Frantically, he kicked aside the burnt obstructions in his path as he made his way back up the stairs. Once outside, he sucked in eager gulps of fresh air before calling out his brother’s name. His voice reverberated for miles. He had no doubt that the whole village could hear him, but he didn’t care. Let them come. His fangs bared in anticipation of making them pay for murdering his family. When he found Radu, they would avenge Alexandru and Crina together.