Immortal Craving (Dark Dynasties) (8 page)

All of which he was. Except his inner self seemed to have split in two. It took more and more effort for the one half to tamp down the other… and he was no longer sure which was winning.

All he knew was that he was hungry again.

Somewhere downstairs, a clock tolled the hour. It was midnight, and though the inhabitants of this house were all awake and going about their business, no one bothered him. That was just as well, Tasmin thought, gritting his teeth as he remembered how he had been greeted
last night. The Cait Sith—no, he reminded himself, the Lilim—in attendance had shied from him, preferring to gawk. Some remembered his kind. Those warned the others. And then there were the wolves…

With a low, soft growl, Tasmin opened his eyes.

“This isn’t working,” he muttered. He couldn’t relax. All around him he smelled wolf and cat, strangers to him. More, there was a casual opulence to this place that left him ill at ease. He had lived in the forests most of his life, and when he’d been offered lodging, it had rarely been more than a hovel. He preferred open air, stars.

But it was so damned cold here. He wanted warmth. He wanted—

Tasmin got to his feet and began to pace the room. It didn’t matter what he wanted. In fact, he had begun to think it was a very bad idea to get everything he wanted. He should never have gone to see Bailey in her shop, not with how out of sorts he’d felt that day. Of course, he’d had no idea of the effect she would have on him. What were the chances, when he hadn’t given any woman so much as a second glance since he’d awakened?

This one was different. She had haunted his sleep. Even here in the mansion there were traces of her scent, taunting him.
Phir milenge
, he had told her.
We will meet again
. He knew it was a bad idea. He was not to be trusted.

But that didn’t stop the desire.

From the black hole now swirling at the center of his being, the hated voice burbled up, whispering its poison.

Go to her. She’ll taste so sweet. We can drain her dry, savor every drop. Go to her
…

This time, his growl was the lion’s.

“No,” Tasmin said, his voice guttural. He no longer
knew what he was arguing with when he fought the voice, whether it was some broken piece of himself or something more frightening, something
other
that his long-ago captors had afflicted him with. All he knew was that he had to keep fighting it. When he had been weaker, especially in the beginning when his body’s need for blood had constantly threatened to override all common sense, he had barely kept himself from toppling into the abyss.

Sometimes he thought that the only reason he was still managing to cling to the edge was that, on the days and nights when he awakened alone, covered in blood, he had no memory of what he had done.

He didn’t want to know. What he had been told was bad enough… and Shakti, the healer, had warned him of what he might become. Of course, there was an obvious remedy, one that Shakti had suggested, that had sent Tasmin into a blind rage that was half himself, half…
other
.

Tasmin closed his eyes, the pain that now defined his existence filling his chest until he thought he might burst with it. He wanted so badly to live. And no matter how much of a coward it made him, he would not take his own life.

Besides, he was no longer certain that his own death would take care of the problem.

A soft knock at the door stopped him dead in his tracks, scattering his thoughts for a brief, blessed reprieve. Tasmin turned toward the sound, scenting both cat and wolf on the other side of the door. He knew exactly who the scents belonged to, and his stomach sank. There could be only one reason for this visit. He’d worried ever since awakening among all the deer…

“Tasmin?”

Ty’s voice. Tasmin drew in a deep breath, trying to prepare, trying to remember
anything
from the hours he’d lost the other night.

What had he done?

Another knock.

“Tasmin? Can we talk?”

“Come in,” Tasmin said, glad to hear that his voice, at least, sounded normal. He felt the dark places inside of him shift at the sound of Ty’s voice, stirring in anger, in pure, blackened hate. He smothered it as best he could, straightening, making his expression blank. Hiding his weakness.

The bedroom door opened, and there was Ty, along with the big, quiet wolf who seemed to run the Lilim’s guard. Neither looked happy to see him.

Seemed to be a trend these days.

Ty stepped in first, looking around the room with mild curiosity. “Everything all right? You’ve been shut up in here all night.”

Tasmin simply looked at him. The cat didn’t seem a bad sort, all things considered. But there was no doubt that the man was conflicted about Tasmin’s presence here. That made two of them. He knew he should want this, be pleased with this. He was closer than he had ever been to answers.

Instead, he spent his waking moments torn between wanting to run back into the night and… other, darker things. Feeding. At the barest thought of sinking his fangs into a tender throat, Tasmin’s heart quickened. He felt his fangs elongate in his mouth.

No, please, not now.

“I prefer the quiet. Did you come with news?” He
didn’t mean to sound brusque when he spoke, but his words came out harsh.

“That depends on what sort of news you’re asking for.”

Tasmin’s eyes shifted to Eric Black, whose entire being seemed to vibrate with predatory instinct despite his stillness. The man’s voice was deceptively mild. Tasmin knew this type. He was the sort to die for loyalty, for what he believed in.

A dangerous sort of fool.

“You want me to guess?” Tasmin asked softly. He looked back at Ty. “Am I in trouble for something already?”

Ty sighed softly, shoving a hand through his hair. “Not
in
trouble, no. Not exactly. But you’ve made some trouble for us.” His silver eyes were bright, direct. “You didn’t tell us you ran into a group of Ptolemy on your way into town.”

Tasmin’s mouth went dry. He searched desperately for any shred of memory, but there was nothing. Only darkness. Whatever his body had done, his mind hadn’t been present.

“I don’t remember meeting anyone on the way into town,” Tasmin said slowly. It was the truth, even though he saw immediately it was the wrong answer. Obviously, whatever he had done, it hadn’t been very discreet.

The wolf gave him a small, incredulous smile without a hint of warmth. Tasmin felt himself bristling. Bad enough to be interrogated, but by a
wolf
…

“You don’t remember tearing a group of about six Ptolemy limb from limb and leaving the carcasses scattered in the woods? I find that hard to believe.”

Tasmin lifted his brows even as something deep inside
went dead cold. “Someone kills Ptolemy on the border of your land and you’re upset about this?”

Eric’s eyes narrowed. “Not someone. You.”

“And you know that how?” Tasmin asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t care for being cornered. He knew it was likely he had done it. Still, he felt some small relief that the victims had been interloping Ptolemy. He wouldn’t be condemned for fighting a common enemy, even if it was a stretch to call it fighting. From what little he had been able to piece together about his episodes, they often had little to do with feeding. Something in him thrived on the violence. Craved it.

“Unless a lion escaped from a nearby zoo, the paw prints could only belong to you,” Ty said. “Eric and a few of the other wolves headed out earlier to check the spot, make sure that this wasn’t some setup.”

“The trees were sprayed with Ptolemy blood,” Eric said, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “The entire area smells like death.” He paused. “It also smells like you.”

Tasmin’s jaw tightened, fury rolling through him in a wave. Some of it was visceral. A lot of it, however, was helpless fury at what was happening to him. Why couldn’t he
remember
?

In the uncomfortable silence, Ty looked more closely at Tasmin’s face, a crease appearing between his brows. Tasmin struggled to hold his gaze. The few Cait Sith he’d ever met had been strange cats, eerily perceptive. This one seemed no different… and that could only be a bad thing.

“You’re telling me you don’t remember ripping up a bunch of Ptolemy?” Ty asked.

“Of course I would remember,” Tasmin snapped. “And
I don’t remember any Ptolemy. I may have passed through there beforehand, taken down a deer—”

“You’ve been living off of deer?” Eric interrupted, beginning to look as puzzled as Ty. “Isn’t that close to vampire vegetarianism? I didn’t even know you guys
did
that.”

“Only if there’s nothing else available,” Ty replied, his eyes never leaving Tasmin’s face. Tasmin was glad he didn’t elaborate on the fact that for a vampire, feeding on wild animals was always a sign of one of two things: either he was desperate for food, or he didn’t trust his control with humans and still had enough of a soul left not to want to cause a massacre. Or both. Which it was for Tasmin most of the time now. He hadn’t attempted to drink from a human in months.

At least… he hadn’t been aware of doing it. Which he knew wasn’t at all the same thing anymore.

“You don’t remember killing the Ptolemy,” Ty said again, and this time it was a statement, not a question.

“I’m not saying it again,” Tasmin replied, feeling his incisors lengthening. His instincts were those of a trapped animal, and panic had begun to work its way down his spine like ice water. He darted a look at the two windows, at the hallway behind Eric and Ty. He was sure they could smell his fear, but there was nothing he could do about it. It welled in his throat, lodging there painfully.

“Tasmin,” Ty said, his voice calm and even. “Calm down. We just want to know what happened.”

“Why? They’re your enemies. My enemies. It shouldn’t matter.” His voice sounded harsh and strange, and he could feel the blackness welling up, wanting to drag him down into it. If that happened, both of the men in front of
him would meet the same fate as these Ptolemy he must have encountered.

“It matters because you didn’t get all of them. One must have been elsewhere, and when she came back, she found… what you left,” Ty said. “She ran back to her queen, who started the night here with a screaming phone call to my wife. We’ve picked one another off one by one with these little games at our borders, Tasmin, but that’s as close as we’ve gotten to what you could call an uneasy peace. Between this and the business with the Grigori a few months ago, though, we run the risk of things escalating again. And we’re not ready.”

“Grigori?” Tasmin asked, keenly interested. He’d only heard rumors, whispers. Something had happened in the desert. He’d only barely stopped himself from traveling there first once he’d reached the States. It would make no sense… but he still struggled with the compulsion just the same.

“Nothing you need to know,” Ty said sharply, “other than that we have enough problems without you stirring things up further.”

“If they truly want to destroy you,” Tasmin said, “it won’t matter what you do or don’t do. You’ll be forced to fight when they wish it.”

“Maybe so,” Ty replied. “But we’re still steering clear of deliberate provocation.”

The two sets of eyes on him, one feline, one lupine, were suddenly far too weighty. They had no idea what he’d gone through to get even this far… what he grappled with even now. Who were they to judge him? Anger mingled with the fear, and he welcomed it. Anger was far easier for him to deal with. Anger he could
use
.

“I don’t know how many ways I can say this to you,” Tasmin growled. “I don’t remember any Ptolemy. I don’t remember killing anyone, only some deer I fed from. Whatever you think you found, it can’t be right. Believe me or not,
I was not there
.”

He hated the defensive note in his voice. More, he hated that he sounded like he was trying to convince himself he hadn’t done this. Still, it was the truth. The part of him that mattered hadn’t been present. He only wished that could make him feel less responsible, but it never did.

“Wait a second,” Eric said softly. “You said you’ve been feeding off of deer?” His eyes changed, growing piercing, more wolflike. “We passed a whole herd lying dead near where the Ptolemy were killed. I didn’t take a close look. Was that… was that you?”

“No, I—”

“You don’t remember that either?” Ty asked, with what might have been concern. But Tasmin heard the voices begin to echo, twisting the words in his head until they were accusatory, threatening. He felt the darkness rising within himself, the senseless drive to maim and feed and kill. It took everything he had to push it back, and even then, the room seemed to shift beneath his feet. Ty and Eric seemed to loom over him, their eyes glowing menacingly.

“I—I don’t—”

“I think you need to see that healer, Tasmin,” Ty said. “Just calm down. We’ll take care of this.”

Tasmin stumbled backward, and Ty stepped forward, arms out… perhaps to help, perhaps to grab at him, trap him. Tasmin no longer knew. Ty’s words echoed in his head.

Calm down… calm down… calm down
…

“Don’t touch me!” Tasmin roared, his voice utterly inhuman. Everything was too much, the light, the sound, the mere presence of other people. The desire to rip into them, to see their blood spray across the walls and floor while he sank his teeth into them, was so strong he was almost choking on it. He needed space, needed to be able to breathe, to make this go away.

Ty put up his hands, but he didn’t back off. The look he shared with Eric said it all. They thought he was insane, dangerous.

Tasmin had a horrible feeling they were right.

He had to get out of here.

Eric watched him steadily with his wolf’s eyes. “Take it easy. You’re safe.”

But he wasn’t, and he knew it. He was never safe, not when he carried these awful impulses within himself. There was only one way he might find some relief. He needed the night air. He needed to shed this skin and run.

For all these months, letting the lion emerge had been his last refuge, the only way to keep from losing himself.