Taken by the Others (35 page)

Rather than do what Royce asked, he howled an angry challenge into his face, and I could see the upper and lower fangs sprouting in his mouth. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Chaz get this mad before, so angry he was losing control over his ability to keep his beast in check. It scared the hell out of me.

Royce’s actions scared me more. He no longer hesitated to shove Chaz away. With a thrust of that odd force, he sent Chaz flying across the room until he crashed into the opposite wall, plaster and dust raining down on impact. Chaz groaned and lay where he’d fallen, a hand slowly moving up to the back of his head where he’d struck. Even from where I stood, I could see the fresh blood on his fingertips when he pulled his hand away.

Gaping in shock, I slowly turned to look back at Royce, somehow more terrified by this show of force than by the implications of what he had done to me. Everyone else in the room had gone dead silent, holding their collective breath to see what would happen next. The vampire brushed himself off as though he were wearing a clean, tailored suit, not the ragged remains of a ripped shirt displaying more of his chest than it hid. He met my eyes once more, wordlessly extending his hand to me.

I didn’t want to go to him. I really didn’t. Right then I would’ve much preferred running screaming from the room so I could go hide under a bed somewhere.

Instead, I stiffly approached him, lightly taking his outstretched hand in my own. Once our skin made contact, more false calm stole over me, making the drama playing itself out before my eyes less frightening, less real. My tense muscles started to unknot themselves, and I found myself longing for the sound of his voice.

“Shiarra, I need you to listen closely and pay attention to what I’m about to tell you,” Royce said, waiting for my nod of acknowledgment before he continued. “When our blood works its way out of your system, you won’t be drawn to us anymore. However, you’ll find yourself craving it in the next few days. You can come to me and reinforce the addiction–and the bond–or you can ignore it and suffer withdrawal. The symptoms will be very painful, but you’ll be free of us both if you are strong enough to withstand the need for our blood. Do you understand?”

I considered it, my hazy thoughts focusing on what he said only because he’d ordered me to listen carefully. Between the unbelievably seductive draw of his voice and the faint but insistent calls from Max, I was surprised I could concentrate on anything at all. Still, he was asking for something amounting to a decision here, though I wanted to beg for him to keep this bond as strong as it was now. It felt so good, so right to hold his hand in mine, to feel his voice like a caress, teasing at my senses. I didn’t want that taken away.

“I understand,” I squeaked out, though I hoped I understood as well as he wanted me to. Maybe he hadn’t been as conniving and vicious about this as Chaz had thought.

It was so odd to feel so calm and composed with his hand in mine. There was no lingering sense of terror, no sickening feel of coming off an adrenaline rush, no wash of self-disgust at the atrocious things I’d done tonight. If staying with him meant feeling like this all the time, I’d take it, and gladly.

“Good.” He smiled at me, and even the glimpse of his fangs didn’t scare me. Instead, I felt that same, soul-warming contentment as when Max had been pleased with me. I basked in the heady glow, barely hearing his words.

“Until it wears off, you need to stay here with me.”

Chapter 35

“Get your hands off her,” came a low, angry voice from somewhere in the shadows. It sounded weak, worn, but familiar somehow. “Right now.”

Royce turned a winsome smile in the direction of the voice. “That isn’t necessary. Put down the gun, Devon.”

The hunter limped closer, looking almost as pale and drawn as one of the vampires. He had a gun leveled at Royce’s head. That was worrisome. He was a good shot. Even with me in the way, he could make it.

“Devon, don’t,” I started, moving to interpose myself between them. Royce hushed me, and I obeyed.

“I’ll let her go in a few days, as soon as the bond fades.”

“Yeah, right,” Devon sneered. “She’s so taken with you, she won’t want to say no when you offer her another drink. She’ll be safer far away from you and Max both.”

I was getting tired of people talking about me like I wasn’t there. I cut in this time, bristling at Devon’s tone. “So what if I say yes? What’s it matter to you?”

He pointed sharply toward the far wall, and guilt ate at me at the sight of Tiny helping Chaz stagger up to his feet. Blood was trickling from his scalp. With a Were’s metabolism, that must have been quite an impact for it to still be bleeding.

“That’s what matters to me. You barely even looked at him. I know how much you care about him, Were or no. You want to abandon all of your friends for that monster whose arm you’re hanging on? The same one who did that to Chaz?”

I tightened my fingers around Royce’s, and he mirrored my motions, coming to settle beside me as we stared at Devon. Though I hadn’t paid much attention to Chaz, I certainly hadn’t forgotten who hurt him–or why.

“I’m not abandoning anyone. Chaz was asking for it when he picked a fight with Royce.”

“Oh really? And how do you feel about the idea of drinking a vamp’s blood? Him drinking yours? Do you remember how you felt about those things even just a couple of hours ago?”

I frowned, thinking. The idea of either didn’t bother me nearly so much as it used to, true. Come to think of it, the idea of being bitten was intriguing now, knowing what it felt like. Royce wouldn’t be trying to scare the life out of me in the process like Peter and Max had.

That’s what clued me in to how right Devon was.

It took a monstrous effort to pull my hand out of Royce’s, to step away.

“Shiarra?” Royce’s tone was soft, concerned. My heart ached for that note in his voice.

“No.” I took another couple of steps away, feeling like I was tearing off something vital in the process. It was painful, which only helped strengthen my resolve. Covering my eyes with a hand, I kept backing away. “Don’t, Royce. Don’t do this right now.”

I felt the first stirrings of anger radiating off him. I shivered in reaction, fighting the urge to return to his side and apologize.

“Your hunter friend is dividing us. If you truly want to be free of us both, then I need you to realize how unwise that is. My will is all that protects you from Max’s call right now. The fact that I’m giving you a choice should tell you my intentions are pure.”

Yeah, the choice that wasn’t a choice that showed he was about as pure as the slushy snow you’ll find in the gutters at Christmas.

I hated that he could use something so little to back me into a corner, hated more that I couldn’t risk his being wrong about this. I stayed where I was, silent, trembling, and wanting more than anything to be somewhere far away from this dark, smelly basement with all of the dead bodies, regrets, and divided loyalties it held.

“Shiarra,” said Devon, his voice low and radiating fear, “please come with us. It’s daylight outside; we can go somewhere they’ll never find you until this blows over.”

I ignored him as best I could. It sounded like such a great idea, to run and hide for the time being. After feeling Max calling me to his side, I knew that would be suicide. There was no way I could take the risk.

“Royce,” I said, hating the waver in my own voice. “Can they stay here until it’s safe for me to leave again?”

“Of course.”

I don’t think anyone in the room missed the note of triumph under those smooth tones. Not even me.

Tiny helped Chaz come closer to me, and I moved to meet them halfway. I don’t think Chaz would’ve made it if he hadn’t had the big man to help support his weight. This time, it didn’t hurt to leave Royce’s side. I decided not to think too hard about what that meant. Instead, I wrapped my arms around Chaz’s waist and buried my head against his chest, trying very hard not to cry.

Chaz rested his chin on top of my head, the arm not clinging to Tiny circling my shoulder. He stank of blood and sweat, with the underlying musk of Were underneath. I was too upset to care about his decided lack of clothes. I pressed tighter against him, savoring his warmth and the imagined protection of his arms. Though he’d done an admirable job of helping keep the bad guys at bay, he hadn’t been able to save me from being bound. That kind of metaphysical tie wasn’t something he could fix.

That made me wonder. Chaz couldn’t fix it–but maybe Arnold could.

Infused with new excitement at the idea, I twisted a little in Chaz’s arms so I could look at Royce. That almost blasted every notion right out of my head. Somehow I managed to cling to my one, tiny ray of hope. “Where are Sara and Arnold? Weren’t they with you?”

Royce shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “Your mage friend was quite incensed the police would not believe that you were in danger, and so he caused something of a scene. I could stop them from pressing charges, but since he did some damage to the office of the interviewing officer, he’s being held overnight. Sara did not want to abandon him, so she stayed at the station. He should be released after the paperwork is sorted out.”

Uh-oh. That wasn’t good. Still, maybe once he got out he’d be able to help do something about this unnatural tie I had to the two vampires.

Royce continued, “If you don’t mind, I think we should all clean ourselves up. I’m sure someone here will have some extra clothing you can borrow. I also need to take my rest for the day, so perhaps we can continue any discussion this evening.”

A shower sounded absolutely fantastic. I nodded wearily and we all started for the stairs. I had to release my grip on Chaz’s waist so Tiny could help him up the stairs. A couple of the vampires stayed behind and started cleaning up the unbelievable amount of gore. I had no idea what they intended to do with the bodies. Honestly, I didn’t want to know.

Mouse urged Dawn and me to come to her apartment. Chaz, Devon, Tiny, and some of the vampires all followed Royce farther up the stairs. I noted we were all leaving bloody tracks behind us. Gross. This was all just too much, and I surely would’ve disgraced myself in front of everyone if I hadn’t already tossed my cookies earlier.

Dawn and Mouse let me clean up first. Once I saw myself in the mirror, it was no wonder why. With all the crud clinging to me, the blood on my face and neck, I would’ve told me to shower first, too.

Shuddering at the nightmarish vision reflected in the mirror, I quickly divested myself of my gore-encrusted weapons and clothes. Though it hadn’t been doing me much good lately, I kept the necklace on.

I didn’t have as many bruises as I was expecting. The worst wound I’d suffered was the one where Max’s sword had nicked my throat; a shallow line that stung like a mother when I rubbed a bit of soap around it. Like the cut on my lower lip, it had closed unnaturally fast, leaving a fresh and painfully tender scar behind.

When I stepped out of the shower, someone had left a change of clothes and taken my armor, weapons, and trench coat with them. There was a note with the new clothes. I recognized Mouse’s handwriting telling me she had taken my stuff to be washed. I felt curiously naked without them when I emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in someone else’s loose-fitting cotton shirt and a pair of draw-string pajama pants. They were a bit too long for me, but nicely comfortable.

Dawn slipped silently past me, barely acknowledging my presence when she hurried into the bathroom. I couldn’t blame her. Even the ethereal beauty of an elf can only stand up to so much wear and tear. She was reaching her limit.

Mouse was in the living room using an oilcloth to rub down the swords. She’d righted most of the furniture. In front of the couch was a low table with a steaming pot of tea and some crackers arranged on a tray. One of the cups had a few drops of tea left in it. Dawn must have had at the food and drink before hurrying into the shower.

I fixed myself a cup with a bit of honey and lemon and settled down next to Mouse on the couch, closing my eyes as I inhaled the sweet scent. The warmth seeping into my palms from the delicate china cup was more than welcome.

Mouse didn’t say anything, of course. She did smile at me, though she was looking a little transparent around the edges, too. Every vamp in the building would need to feed soon. The thought would’ve unsettled me more if I wasn’t so tired and relaxed from the mix of the warm shower, fresh clothes, and hot tea.

Though it normally would have, Royce’s voice breaking the silence didn’t startle me.

“Shiarra, would you please come with me? I’d like to discuss a couple of things with you before I rest for the day.”

I had an extraordinarily difficult time opening my eyes, fighting back exhaustion so I could get up to join him. He looked a lot better now, his hair slicked back from his face, wet from the shower. He’d put on silk pajama bottoms, but hadn’t bothered with a shirt, thus leaving his scarred chest and arms bare to view. His color was better, and there were no open cuts on him anymore. However, there were too many scars to account for the damage done to him tonight. I wondered if he’d gotten them while still alive. I was also grateful to see he must have fed on someone else.

Taking the tea with me, I carefully cradled it to my chest while Royce led the way. Upstairs, the shutters on the windows were all tightly closed and latched, the only light coming from the tiny spotlights illuminating the statuary. The hostages I’d freed and the bodies of Max’s guards were gone; only a few scarlet stains on the hardwood remained to show where they’d been. Chaz and the other two werewolves were showered and clean, sprawled snoring on some of the decorative pillows on the floor. Tiny was seated on the chaise, plucking at some bandages on his leg and not paying much attention to us when we walked in. Devon wasn’t in sight, but I could hear the shower running. Bitch and moan about Royce as he might, he was still taking advantage of the vampire’s hospitality. Hypocrite.