Blood Law (21 page)

Straight to Hell.

Varik opened Alex’s Crimson Swan apartment door and helped her over the threshold. The doctors in the
emergency room had cleared her to go home, but she was still a little shaky. He was reluctant to leave her, despite her prior insistence that she would be all right on her own. At least she’d stopped being pissed at him and shifted her anger to Stephen.

Alex tottered away from him by using the back of the leather sofa as a handrail. “Have a seat,” she said, assuaging his unspoken concerns. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She moved slowly as she passed through the bedroom area and disappeared into the bathroom.

He heard the muffled sound of running water as he closed the front door and hung her keys on the hook next to it. Looking around the tiny apartment, he took in the ramshackle appearance and sighed. This was not the neat Alex-style environment he remembered.

Clothing littered the floor and spilled from boxes, refugees from her water-damaged apartment. The dark-brown leather sofa divided the studio’s common space into two rooms. A folding table with two chairs served as the dining area between the living room and the small kitchen. A profusion of take-out menus clung to the refrigerator with magnets from various local businesses. A calendar that advertised a car-repair shop and featured landscape photos was tacked to a cabinet door.

Moving into the living room, bare white walls surrounded him on all sides, and the furniture consisted of the sofa and a side table with a lamp. A television sat in the far corner on a rolling stand that also housed electronic equipment.

Two bookcases flanked the television and drew his interest. One case was empty, but the other held a mix
of books, DVDs, and CDs. Judging from the water spots and warping of book covers, he guessed these were items salvaged from Alex’s other apartment. He glanced over the book titles, mostly mysteries and a few romances. There’d been a time when the mere mention of a romance novel would send Alex screaming from the room.

He moved on to the DVDs and smiled. At least some things never changed. The films were mostly black-and-white classics starring Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, and Vincent Price. The music was a little more eclectic than he remembered, featuring everything from Beethoven to Rob Zombie.

The sound of running water stopped, and he settled into a corner of the sofa to wait. His gaze continued to roam around the apartment. The only decorative item in the room aside from the shoji screen blocking his view of the bed was the small half-geode on top of the television. Amethyst crystals glittered from within the depths of the split stone sphere. He recognized it as a prized possession that had belonged to Alex’s father.

A large black-and-tan cat jumped onto the back of the sofa and stared at him. Its golden eyes were rimmed in green, reminding him of Alex’s eyes when she was facing blood-hunger or really pissed off, which seemed to be most of the time when he was around. The cat yawned and stretched before hopping to the cushion next to him.

Varik remained motionless while the cat sniffed his fingers and jeans. It climbed into his lap and smelled its way up his shirt to his face. Whiskers tickled his chin as
the cat investigated his hair. It blinked at him, licked its nose, and then settled onto the cushion beside him, front paws on his thigh and head held high with closed eyes, purring contentedly.

“I see you’ve met Dweezil.” Alex entered the room carrying a hairbrush, a cordless phone, and trailing the scent of soap. She had changed into a pair of black jogging shorts covered by an oversized University of Louisville T-shirt, and a dark-blue towel wrapped around her head like a turban.

“I think I’ve been claimed.” He brushed at the trail of hairs left on his shirt.

“Dweezil would claim a skunk if he thought he could get food out of the deal.” Alex tucked one leg beneath her as she sat down on the opposite end of the sofa and laid the brush and phone on the coffee table.

“How’s your arm?”

She rolled up her sleeve. Emergency-room doctors had removed Doc Hancock’s stitches. An angry red welt sliced across the outer edge of her biceps, but it was healing well and would be just another scar in a few days. “Much better. At least I can move it now without it hurting too much.”

“And your chest?”

“Bruised but manageable.”

“That’s good.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. The only sounds within the apartment were the faint rush of heated air from the overhead vents and Dweezil’s contented purring.

Varik tried not to stare at Alex’s bare legs, tried not
to acknowledge that his body was responding to her presence the same way it had years ago. The kiss they’d shared, followed by the renewing of the blood-bond, had stirred the memories locked within his mind. Sitting in her apartment, immersed in her scent, made him want to pull her into his lap, cradle her in his arms, and feel her heart beating in time with his.

“Stop it,” she hissed, massaging her temples.

“What?”

“Thinking about us. Just having you here is distracting enough. I don’t want to hear your lewd thoughts as well.”

He chuckled. “If you find my presence distracting, that must mean you’ve thought about me.”

“Thought of how to get rid of you.”

“Ouch, that hurt.”

Alex rolled her eyes and pulled her turban loose, releasing the scent of jasmine and vanilla along with her damp hair. She folded the towel, dropped it into her lap, and grabbed the brush from the coffee table. “You’ll mend.”

“You want to tell me about your vision during the autopsy review?”

“I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Varik’s hand dropped to Dweezil’s head and scratched behind the cat’s ears as he waited for her to continue.

“It was the body.” She tossed the brush and towel onto the coffee table. “It sat up, but it’s what came after that I don’t know how to explain.”

“There is another way for you to tell me,” he said softly.

“The blood-bond.”

He nodded, stroking Dweezil’s back and smiling wryly when the cat lifted its haunches to follow the curve of his hand.

Alex chewed her bottom lip, flashing her small fangs.

He watched her draw her knees up to her chest and wrap her arms around her legs, curling her body into the upright fetal position he recognized as her way of trying to protect herself from unpleasant memories. He could sense the fear and doubt hanging around her like storm clouds.

“All right, I’ll show you,” she said, and then muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “What—I mean, how do we do this?”

Varik picked up Dweezil and gently set the cat on the floor. He shifted on the sofa until he faced Alex fully. “I’m not certain. I’ve never been blood-bound before.”

“That makes two of us.”

“It’s your memories that you want to share, so you should be the one to open the bond.” He moved closer to her. “Remember when we were at the morgue?”

“I’m not kissing you.”

“No, but I think it may help if we’re touching.”

Alex hesitated and then shifted so her knees were no longer drawn to her chest. She folded her legs into a lotus position, and he mirrored her. They inched toward
each other until their knees touched. He held out his hands, and after a moment’s pause, she laid hers in his.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Think of what you saw in the morgue and then lower your mental shields. I should be able to see what you saw.”

She nodded and closed her eyes.

He could feel her trembling and knew she was anxious. His natural instinct was one of protection. He wanted to shelter her from what frightened her, but the source was within her, out of his reach.

When he lowered the barriers dividing his mind from hers, he felt no welcoming warmth. Her memories remained locked.

“It’s not working,” she said, and pulled away. “I can sense your mind. I know you lowered your shields, but something is blocking me.”

“Try again.”

“This isn’t going to work, Varik.”

“Yes, it will.”

“No.” She unfolded her legs and rose. “I think you should just leave.”

He grabbed her waist, pulled her into his lap, and kissed her.

Alex broke the kiss. “You son of a bitch!” Her eyes were a swirling maelstrom of emerald and amber. She pushed against him, but he held her fast and wouldn’t let her escape. “Let me go!”

Varik kept one arm around her waist and used the other to halt the blow she aimed at his face. “Not until you try again,” he growled. He couldn’t force his way into her mind. To do so would be the equivalent of rape
under vampiric law. She had to share her memories willingly, but nothing prevented him from manipulating her. “If I have to piss you off in order for you to do that, then that’s what I’ll do.”

She stopped struggling but continued to glare at him, breathing heavily. “You’ll leave if it doesn’t work?”

“The apartment, yes. Jefferson, no.”

“Promise you’ll forget this whole bond business if this doesn’t work?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You’re a lot of things, Varik, but a scout isn’t one of them.”

“No, but I
am
a man of my word.” He released his hold on her waist, but when she sprang to her feet, he stopped her from returning to her seat on the sofa. “I think we need to be closer this time.”

“Closer? How the hell do you expect—” Her voice died as he stood, and she began shaking her head. “No way. Forget it.”

“Alex, it’s—”

“I’m not kissing you, Varik!”

“Would you rather sit on my lap again?”

“No.”

“Then I suggest you get used to seeing me here, because I’m not leaving until you try again. That’s our agreement.”

“You said nothing about—”

“I’m not saying we have to kiss, Alex, but think of when we were at the morgue, how easy it was for you to open the bond when we were that physically close.”

Color painted her cheeks red. “Don’t remind me.”
Her head rolled back, and she stared at the ceiling for a moment before looking at him again. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Varik spread his arms, and she stepped into his embrace. Her arms slipped around his neck. A tremor ran the length of his body when her fingers brushed the bandage covering the wound where she’d bitten him.

The desire to kiss her again nearly overwhelmed him, but he resisted the urge and tried to ignore the swelling erection trapped in his jeans. Gazing into her eyes from only a few inches away, a painful stab of regret speared his heart, and she winced, having felt it through the blood-bond.

She stiffened and tried to pull back. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good—”

The barriers separating their psyches vanished. Varik gasped as images filled his mind. He was part of the scenes playing out across his consciousness but was also distant. He saw three headless corpses reaching for him and Alex simultaneously. He both ran through and flew over the erupting monolith maze. He watched as Bernard and Alex ran to evade a massive tornado and also ran alongside them. He and Alex were swept away by the twister and carried into a brightening sky.

“Varik,”
Alex whispered against his chest and in his mind.

Jasmine and vanilla combined with sandalwood and cinnamon, rocking his senses. The blood-bond forged deeper into their minds, parading memories before them.

Alex’s fifth birthday, only months before her father’s murder.

Varik lying in wait for a rogue Hunter, his grip tight on a knife’s handle.

Alex in her teens visiting her father’s grave, kneeling beside the headstone and weeping.

Varik standing on a river’s edge, watching the flow drag a body downstream.

Part of his mind awoke, suddenly aware that he and Alex were no longer standing. He slumped on the sofa while she straddled him, kissing him passionately, and him her. Panic seized his brain for an instant until the blood-bond offered up new images, thoughts dredged from one of their subconsciousnesses.

He lay naked on the floor as she moved over him with her head back in the throes of ecstasy. The vision shifted. He moved over her with her hips bucking to counter his every thrust, never breaking contact.

The still-conscious part of him stirred again as his hands slipped beneath Alex’s shirt to cup her breasts. His palms caressed her hardened nipples, and she moaned, his name rolling from her lips to set his skin aflame.

This isn’t right
, his mind screamed. He felt Alex pause, and it was the refuge he needed to break the blood-bond’s hold on them.

She cried out as he slammed shut the barriers between their minds, cutting off the bond’s flow of memories, emotions, and desires. She clawed at the side of her head, then stilled. Her body fell limp, and she slumped against him.

“Alex?” His voice sounded harsh in the quiet of her apartment. “Baby?”

She groaned and rolled off him. “What happened?”

“The blood-bond,” he replied. “It overwhelmed us.”

She groaned again. “My head. It tingles.”

A prickly sensation similar to what he felt when his foot fell asleep and returned to life throbbed in his head, making his eyes tear. “Mine, too.”

Alex curled up on one end of the sofa. “Is this supposed to happen?”

He slid to the opposite side, putting as much distance between them as possible, and massaged his forehead. “I don’t know.”

Minutes passed in silence, and Varik worked to keep his mind free of all thought. Thinking hurt his brain. His eyelids drooped with weariness. His head lolled on his shoulders, and he jerked awake. Yawning, he forced himself to stand. “I should leave.”

Alex didn’t answer.

Alarmed, he turned to her and then relaxed. The sound of her steady breathing let him know she’d fallen asleep. He gently lifted her into his arms.

She mumbled incoherently as he carried her to the bed.

He laid her down, and she rolled onto her side and once more curled into a tight ball. He covered her with a blanket and, as an afterthought, he kissed her cheek.

She sighed in her sleep.

Dweezil jumped onto the half-wall serving as a headboard and blinked at him.