The Lair (33 page)

The metal shelves of the dairy case blocked him, but he lunged forward, his arms reaching between the shelves. She pulled back the string a fraction of an inch and let the arrow fly. But her hands were shaking too much and the shot went wide, bouncing of the shelf with a clatter.

The Tick frowned, obviously baffled by the sound.

Her breath caught. He threw himself at the shelves again. This time the entire unit scooted forward a few inches. Okay, maybe she had another shot. Looked like today was her lucky day. She whipped out another arrow, forcing herself to walk closer to him. If she wanted to hit him, she’d have to get the arrow straight through that gap. It’d be like threading a needle.

Heart pounding, she stopped three or four feet away. She sucked in a deep breath and held it before letting the arrow fly. She notched another and let it loose before she even knew if she’d made the shot. The Tick staggered back, howling in pain, the arrow protruding from his chest. Right in his heart. She hoped. The door to the dairy case slammed closed.

Moving quickly, she slung the bow over her shoulder and booked it for the door. She plucked the flashlight off the floor and palmed a stake before throwing open the door and panning the light across the store. Not that she needed the light to know right where the Tick was. His angry thrashing gave away his position.

She followed the sounds of crashing metal and breaking glass. Back in the freezer, Josie must have woken up, because underneath the sounds of the dying Tick, she could hear the piercing scream of the baby. Combined, they were making enough noise to attract the attention of every creature in the county.

On the upside, Carter wouldn’t be able to miss them when he finally got there.

She took one small step toward the Tick’s thrashing body just to be sure he wouldn’t be getting up. His hands grabbed at the arrows, smashing their shafts so only stubby ends protruded from his chest. He wasn’t dead yet, but he would be soon.

From what she understood, the Tick’s blood had super healing properties. A Tick could survive from almost any wound as long as its head was still on and its heart was pumping. The stake through the heart—or in this case the arrow through the heart—kept the heart from pumping. He wouldn’t really be dead until she cut off his head, but until he’d stopped twitching, she didn’t want to get close enough to do it.

So she stood there for several long minutes watching him die, her heart pounding with terror, her throat clenching up. This whole thing . . . it was just too much. Too much fear. Too much death.

She still couldn’t help wondering about the man he’d been before he turned. And what kind of Tick she would be, if she ever turned herself.

Even though she’d never been particularly religious in the Before, now, she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer, for his soul, if he still had it. And for her soul as well.

Not because she really believed it would make a difference, but because she knew all too well that someday there might be someone standing over her mutated, monstrous body. And she hoped the person who stopped her heart with a stake would do the same for her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Mel

Sabrina makes us wait. Which, I suppose is the right of the host when guests stop by uninvited. But we are shown into a lobby and taken up to a sprawling office on the top floor. There is little view from the windows, just the twinkly lights from the campus below, bleeding into the darkness. There must be an empty town outside these fences, but it’s unlit and easy to ignore in the pitch-black night.

There is sleek furniture in the penthouse, and fresh-cut flowers and guards at the ready, but nothing refreshing. Nothing in this place soothes me. I can sense the strain of Sebastian’s fake calm. His jangling nerves make me jittery. He hates being here more than I do. It’s his spidey sense. Even though mine isn’t developed yet, I can sense it in him. Or perhaps it’s just that I know him well by now.

I prowl the length of the windows while we wait. Back and forth, back and forth. I have to keep moving, because hunger is crawling along my skin, twitching my nerves. Smothering me. I haven’t been near this many humans since I turned. It’s harder than I thought.

Finally, the door to the back slides open and Sabrina enters, surveying the room. She frowns when she sees the guard standing by the door then turns to Sebastian. “You weren’t hungry?”

“You know I don’t drink directly from humans. I won’t risk infecting another.”

“I thought perhaps your tastes had changed,” she says with a look in my direction.

My heart stutters as I realize the implications of their conversation. First, unlike Sebastian, Sabrina clearly drinks from humans with no concern for turning them. And secondly, the “guard” isn’t a guard at all.
He
was the refreshment she’d offered us.

She smiles smoothly. She strokes the fingers of one hand across the tips of the other. On another woman, the gesture might look diffident, but on Sabrina, it’s menacing. Her nails are as long and pointy as a lion’s claws. “But surely you’ll at least share a drink with me. We have glasses aplenty on the sidebar.”

She is not merely playing with her hands; she is testing the edge of her weapon, preparing to slice open a vein on the man standing stupidly in the corner.

I’m backing away, panicked. I can’t drink human blood. I
can’t.
But I muffle my screams, because Sebastian’s warnings are too loud in my ears. I edge back away from her, but Sebastian grips my arm, keeping me in place.

“No, thank you,” he says. “I remember the ancient laws as well as you. I will not partake of your kine.”

She nods graciously. “If you do indeed remember the ancient laws, then you know as well as I that I had to offer.”

“You did not have to make the offer so enticing.”

She throws back her head and releases a husky chuckle. “So enticing? Your straits must be dire indeed if a single pint of human blood is enough to entice you.”

Sebastian makes a sound low in his throat that is almost a growl, but I’m unsure if she even hears it.

She is still laughing as she waves the guard from the room. She slinks across to the sofa in front of the windows and curls into a seat. “Now, down to business. I assume since you refused to drink, you are not ready to pledge your loyalty to me and become my vassal.”

Sebastian snorts in derision. “You know I am not.” His hand is at my back, guiding me to a seat opposite Sabrina. I want to fly against the glass like a hummingbird caught in the skylight, but Sebastian nudges me forward now and so I sit. “But I noticed Jackson has fallen.”

I have no idea what Jackson is. A city, maybe?

But Sabrina knows instantly what he means, because her smile freezes. “Your intel is extensive.”

Sebastian smirks. “Please. We crossed through his territory on the way here. You think I would not notice this weakness along your border.”

“Notice? Or prey on?”

Sebastian’s chuckle sounds genuinely amused, as if he’s enjoying this game of wits, despite the strain of being with her. “If I was going to prey on your weakness, I would never have come close enough for you to even know I was here.”

Sabrina’s smile widens. “And yet you
have
sought sanctuary,” Sabrina purrs, and her eyes light up as she sweeps her hand toward me. “And you brought me gifts. To help with my little problem?”

It takes me a moment to figure out what she means, but I still answer before Sebastian does.

“Gifts?” I ask, speaking for the first time. I bob to my feet. “I am
not
a gift.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Sebastian mutters.

Sabrina grins, clearly delighted by my outburst. “You didn’t tell her? Oh, Sebastian, you are so deliciously naughty I could just eat you up. And if you were human, I suspect I would.”

I turn on Sebastian. “Did you bring me here to get rid of me? So she could, what?” My mind races, but I have no answers. I am out of my depth and drowning. “Why?”

Sabrina comes to her feet and pulls me into her arms. “Now, dear one, you needn’t fret.”

Needn’t fret? I jerk away. “I have less than six months before my own territorial instincts kick in and Sebastian is trying to hand me over to you like a . . . like a . . .” But I don’t even know what. I know so little about being a vampire. Sebastian has been my lode stone for the past six weeks. If he abandons me now, I don’t know how I will function.

She strokes a hand down my arm. “My dear, you are being a tad overdramatic. Perhaps if you could . . . what is that phrase? Reign it in?”

I nod without really agreeing.

“If you become my vassal, I promise I will take very good care of you until it is time for you to leave.”

Her words are tender, but they still chill my heart. I look to Sebastian, but his expression is unreadable.

Why?
I want to scream at him.
Why are you doing this?

But instead I ask that other great question: “How?”

Sabrina slithers closer. “Sebastian is very . . .” She savors choosing the word. “Pragmatic, shall we say. Not all vampires are isolationists like he is.”

“So then you
can
be around other vampires?” I ask, something strangely like hope filling my heart.

“No. Not in that sense. Not long-term. Once you were fully grown I would boot you out, so to speak. But we would have so much fun in the meantime.”

“Oh,” I say. I shudder at her words, unwilling to imagine what her idea of fun might be. I can’t help but look at Sebastian, who is lounging disinterestedly on the sofa. “It’s only a few more months. Why not just let me be? Is it so awful, being my mentor that you can’t just let me stay?”

He returns my gaze, looking more bored than concerned, then he turns to Sabrina. “Perhaps you could give us a moment?”

She has been watching the exchange, her gaze bright with interest. Her face falls as she realizes she’s being asked to leave. Her lip juts out in a pout. “Very well.”

A moment later we are alone.

My emotions roil inside of me. I never used to be like this: awash in feelings. In my Before, everything was so much simpler. I lived within myself, under a bell jar made of music. The jar protected me, from the world and from the darker parts of myself—the parts that feed on my control and weaken it. The parts that want to rise up and howl, Tick-like.

Alone with Sebastian, I pace, trying to outrun my anger and fear.

“Come now, Kitten. Surely it’s not as bad as all that.”

I whirl on him. “You tried to barter me to that woman in exchange for sanctuary!”

“Did I?”

“Yes! She thought I was some sort of hostess gift.”

“I am not responsible for what she thought, only for what I intended.”

“What you intended was to get rid of me.”

“Was it?”

I’m tired of his oblique questions. “Yes! You brought me here to ditch me so that you wouldn’t be responsible for training me. You never wanted to turn me. You turned me only because Carter made you do it.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows at this and for a moment, he looks disconcerted. “Carter made me? You believe there was
anything
that boy could have done to make me turn you?”

“What other explanation is there? You hate turning vampires. You’d rather go hungry than risk it. And yet now you’re stuck with me and so you’re trying to ditch me.”

“My dear, if I was that desperate to be rid of you, I would have merely waited until Carter and Lily had left and I would have beheaded you. If I wanted you gone, you’d be gone. I brought you to Sabrina’s not for my benefit or for hers, but for yours.”

“Mine?”

“Of course. Sabrina has fared quite well since America fell. Much of her financial and personal empire is intact. Most of her enemies have fallen. She is in need of powerful allies on her border, and would likely do much to help you establish your own empire. You could do far worse than to become a vassal to a vampire of her strengths.”

Everything inside of me stutters to a halt. Is that possible? That Sebastian has not brought me here to drop me off like a bag of kittens to drown but for some other reason? I don’t even know what to think of that, so I admit, “I don’t know what a vassal is.”

He pushes himself up from his seat and comes to stand close to me. “She would be your mentor until you are fully vampire. Then she would secede you a territory adjoining hers.”

“And if I was her vassal then I could be around her? Even after I’m fully vampire?”

“No. Not all vampires are as unsociable as I am, but when the time comes, you will not want to be in her company, I promise you that.”

“You are in her company,” I point out.

“Only because I’ve requested sanctuary. And it is not easy. Not for either of us.”

I want to argue the point, but even I can see the strain around his eyes.

“Being her vassal would provide you some small protection. You would be allies of sorts. You would owe her an annual tithe, but in exchange, she would send resources to protect your lands if you were ever in dire distress.”

It all sounds very feudal and not at all comforting, but I’m putting the pieces together. “Jackson was once her vassal.”

“Yes.”

“But his territory fell?”

“He did. But that doesn’t mean that you would. This would be a smart move for you. Unless you have a different plan. What is it that you want out of all this?”

“I don’t want to be her vassal. I don’t want an empire. I just want—” I break off as my tears nearly choke me.

I have been asked this question so rarely, I have no answer. Even in the Before, even with my mother, who tried so hard and my sister, who loved me so dearly. Even they did not often ask what I wanted.

I have no ready answer to the question. Heart searching is harder than it should be. What do I want?

I want my life back. My easy, autistic life with its simple rules and solid structure. I want my mother. My sister. Even my willy-nilly father, who never writes or calls. I want all of those things. And I want a choice. An opinion.