Blood and Sand (23 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Hunter

Tags: #Vampires, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult, #Mystery

BOOK: Blood and Sand
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Beatrice was the first out of the car. “This is my grandfather’s?” She kicked a rock, which sailed over the dumpsters and into the black desert. “Shit. Shit! What the hell is going on? There’s no way he could be involved. I don’t trust him completely, but he’d never get mixed up in something to do with Elixir.”

“I don’t know your grandfather, but I say we have a look at that truck,” Brigid said. “If there are humans inside—”

“They’re not likely to be alive, if there are,” Natalie interrupted her. “But we should still check it out. Someone needs to call the police.”

“No police,” Brigid said.

Natalie felt her temper heat. “If women have been murdered—”

“Just wait, Nat,” Beatrice said. “Let’s check it out first before we start arguing. I’ll go listen, but if there’s no one alive, I say we wait and watch for now.”

Brigid smiled smugly as Natalie glared and Beatrice darted away.

She wanted to scream in frustration. The journalist in her said that the people—no matter who they were—deserved a proper investigation if they had been killed. Those women didn’t deserve to be pawns in some vampire chess game. She wanted to call the police. She wanted to open the truck door and take pictures of the atrocities these creatures had committed and plaster their deeds on the front page of every newspaper in the world. She wanted to shine a glaring light on the guilty and make them burn.

But as she considered it, Baojia’s voice echoed in her mind:

 
Those girls deserve nothing. They are dead. They are past caring. And if you publish a story that exposes our kind to the world, then you will be dead, too. You will be ridiculed by your own press and then someone, somewhere, will come and kill you. I am not threatening; I am predicting. And you cannot die. It is not acceptable.

Her own fear shamed her, because she didn’t want to die. And she knew, as much as she hated it, that Baojia had spoken the truth. So she shoved back her indignation and waited in the car. Beatrice only shook her head when she returned, slipping silently into the backseat as Natalie’s instincts throbbed.
 

They waited for only ten minutes before they saw him again. The driver was nowhere to be seen, but Tio was exiting the casino and heading toward the back with a woman on his arm. She stumbled, either drunk or intoxicated by his amnis; there was no way of knowing. Brigid and Beatrice didn’t even hesitate.

“Oh no, this isn’t going to happen.” Her old friend’s voice was a grim promise. “Asshole.”

Brigid leaned over and shoved what looked like a flare gun in her hand. “Taser. You ever shoot one of these before?”

Natalie felt the panic start to well up. “No, never.”

“Well, crash course, then.” Brigid pulled her out of the car, following Beatrice, who had already sped toward Tio. “Point, shoot. You’ve got about twenty feet with this model. Try not to hit anything friendly.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed in the car?” she whispered.
 

“And leave you there unprotected? Not likely. Just follow me.”

Natalie hoped Beatrice had already incapacitated Tio, but by the time they rounded the corner, her hopes were dashed.

Five figures struggled in the dim lights behind the casino. Natalie could spot one with long hair, swirling and kicking in an almost elegant fight. Brigid grinned. “Elixired vampires. So much more fun. Stay here. These bastards tend to be strong.”

With a snap, Brigid brought two balls of fire to her hands and strode toward a vampire who charged her. The creature only had a split second before he was engulfed in flames. The others spotted him and ran into the night, Brigid and Beatrice hot on their trail. Natalie heard a muffled sob from the corner. It was the woman, huddled against the wall.

“That… What the hell was that?” She wasn’t in good shape. Natalie tried to lift her to her feet, but the woman pulled away. “Oh shit, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” She pointed at the stun gun in Natali
e’s hand.
 

“What?” She looked at it, holding her hand up in surrender. “No, no. Let me help—”

“Get back, bitch!” The woman scrambled to her feet, still sobbing. “Help!” she cried into the night. “Help me!”

Natalie was about to run after her when a dark shape swooped in from the night, grabbing the woman and clamping a hand over her mouth as hesped towarthe creature latched on to her neck. The woman went still, and Natalie froze at the sight of her nightmare, watching helplessly as Tio drained the human dry. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped. Tio kept his eyes on her, black gaze staring madly over the woman’s neck as the blood dripped on the ground. Without a word, Natalie turned and ran.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He stalked her. Panic pumped through her blood, and the acrid tang of adrenaline kicked in the air.

Faster
.

He could hear her scrambling through the brush and the rocks. The smell of blood cut through the dry night and he knew she was bleeding.

Faster
.

A low snarl ripped from his throat when he sensed her other pursuer. There was no time to lose. He heard her heart racing, faster than the beat of birds’ wings and just as fragile.

The tremor of breath caught and held. A small cry escaped her throat.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

He was almost on her.

Not fast enough.

Baojia felt the sting of a thousand blades when he reached the rise of the hill to see Tio closing in on Natalie. She had stumbled in a gully, splayed on her back, her legs twisted beneath her as she raised her hands, holding something in front of her in the low light of the moon. No cry rose in the night when she reached out toward the monster that hungered for her. There was a spike of energy scenting the breeze, then a blue flash as the blur of the immortal’s body stilled, arched, and flew back from Natalie’s raised hands. Baojia was already on top of him when he felt the quake. The rush of energy mushroomed out from the prone immortal as the earth beneath his feet groaned and shuddered.

He reached out, slicing off Tio’s head with one clean stroke as the ground opened up and a chasm appeared in the desert sand. He heard Natalie cry out as she disappeared into the dark slash of earth. Baojia roared as his enemy’s body fell lifeless onto the sand, blood soaking the earth that was still shifting and rolling.

“Natalie!” He looked for her, but saw nothing. The ground around where she had been lying was an open wound, sand and rock pouring into it. He dove after her.

Landing in a roll, he spotted her crouched in an odd cavern that seemed to bloom beneath the desert floor. The earth around them still quaked, but though the sand and rock rained down, the cave appeared stable. In the blink of an eye, he bent over her and wrapped his arms around her body, shielding her from the falling debris until the earth stilled. She trembled underneath him, and he could smell the blood that stained her skin from cuts and scrapes.

He said nothing when the earth finally stopped moving, uncurling from around her body to clear the sand and hair from her face. His senses reached out, searching for any threat, but no energy reached him. The gash where they had fallen had caved in and was covered by tumbled sandstone. The cavern narrowed into a small passageway that led into the unknown. Was it a mine shaft? An old tunnel?

Baojia could hear her heart beating furiously, so he lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the narrow opening that led farther down. It was pitch-black, but he sensed a familiar energy, a trace of scent and amnis that still lingered under the earth. Tulio. This passage, whatever it was, must have belonged to the old hermit.

She began coughing, and he could smell the salt of her tears and the teasing metallihatever c scent of her blood. He followed Tulio’s scent farther into the black, but could feel nothing and no one else. They were utterly alone beneath the earth.
 

Eventually, he could feel the air grow fresher and the sound of his steps echoed as he entered a wider part of the passageway. From the right, he caught the distinct smell of wax. Carefully, he set Natalie on her feet, reaching out until he could feel a niche in the wall. A stack of candles lay there, next to a box of matches. With steady hands, he lit one and looked around the room, carefully keeping his eyes on anything but the woman who was shaking only a few feet away.

He lit another, then another, placing them at intervals around a room lined with small alcoves. It had to have been an old hiding place. Or maybe the earth vampire kept many passages such as this one. Burrows carved from the earth to make for easy escape or shelter.
 

Whatever it was, it was safe.

The floor was dusty, but wool rugs were scattered over it, and a soft pallet sat in one corner. Wordlessly, Baojia picked up Natalie and laid her on it, carefully surveying her for wounds as his tension shifted from survival to anger.

“Where are we?” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse. “Is there anyone else down here?”

“No.”

He ran careful hands over her legs first, checking her ankles for twists or breaks. He bent and rotated the joints, carefully watching for signs of pain. There was a cut in her right calf but it wasn’t deep. He quickly ripped the lower part of her jeans away and bent down, piercing his tongue to clean and heal the wound before he checked her knees.

“Baojia—”

“Be quiet,” he muttered as he continued his examination. Her arms were next. He performed another cursory examination of her wrists. The right appeared to be slightly swollen, but not broken or seriously sprained. Another cut marked her left forearm. He ripped away the sleeve of her shirt and healed that wound as well.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

He still didn’t speak, just pushed her back on the pallet to gently run hands over her torso and ribs. Though there were more scrapes, particularly on her lower back and left shoulder from where she must have fallen, there appeared to be no sign of internal injuries or broken bones. He could hear her start to sniff.

“Will you say something? Please?”

“That would not be wise.”

Finally, he looked up. Placing his hands on her head, he gently probed her skull and neck, still searching for signs of trauma. He ignored her wet blue eyes. He brushed the hair away from her forehead and bent down, his lips inches away from a red scrape on her forehead. She was crying silently, tears running down her face as she pushed him away. She started to tremble again, but he could tell this time it was from anger.
 

“Say something.”

He refused, the quiet rage forcing him back on his heels as he crouched next to her, stubbornly looking anywhere but her eyes. He could feel the blood start to pulse in his veins as her anger mounted. He bit down, tasting the blood from where his own fangs pierced the inside of his lip.
 

“Say anything!”

He caught her outstretched hand a fraction away from his face as she tried to slap him. He held her wrist, barely containing his raw fury. Finally, his eyes lifted to hers.

Anger. Relief. Desperation. He saw every emotion he had locked away spilling from her eyes.

“I 8">e of herreturned to the house to find you gone,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I had to wake Matt in the middle of the night to activate the GPS tracking on my car. I flew down here with Tenzin, convinced I would find your body drained in the desert.”

“I was with Beatrice and Brigid—”

A swift hand covered her mouth as he continued in a deadly soft voice. “He was seconds away from killing you. You were moments from death.”

She peeled his fingers from her mouth, grasping his hand in hers as she sat up slowly. “I had the Taser. I shocked him. I would have had time to—”

“You can die, Natalie.”
 

“I know that.”

“You can
die
.”
 

“I know!”

“You almost did.” The wall of anger that had masked his fear began to crumble. The sheer terror of the previous two hours began to slash at his throat.

“Baojia—” She tried to lean closer, but he put a hand on her shoulder, halting her.

“You can die,” he said again. “And you would be gone. And I would have nothing.”

He heard her tears again, felt them against his skin when she pressed his hand to her cheek, but she had no response.

“Do you even understand how fragile you are?”

“Tell me I’m not an assignment,” she whispered as he drew closer, brushing the hair from her temple and framing her face with his hands. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed the scrape on her forehead, licking the blood from his lips. “Tell me this is real.”

“I would have nothing,” he whispered, kissing her again. He lowered his head and kissed the delicate skin of her eyelids, tasting her tears. “Do you understand?” He still held her face, and her hands came up to cover his as he kissed the rise of one cheek, then the other. “Tell me.”

He thought he felt her nod as he captured her lips. Fear gave way to need, and he pulled her closer. She grabbed at his shoulders and tugged, knocking him off-balance as she pulled his body over hers. He crawled up the pallet, carefully moving her body under his. Her legs parted and he moved closer, their lips still fused in a desperate kiss.
 

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