Vampire Thirst (7 page)

“Better now?”

Arrgh!
Sam’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up on her bed.

Hikuro was on the chaise lounge, one leg crossed on top of the other, his hands casually resting on his lap. He had shed off his leather jacket. The white t-shirt was stretched to the limit over his thick, well-defined biceps.

“You’re still here,” Sam sighed.

He nodded.

“If you are expecting an explanation about what happened in the park, I hate to disappoint you, Hikuro, but there is none.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.

Oh-oh. Too fast.

The movement made her head spin and she swayed backwards. Hikuro was right there beside her. One strong hand supported the small of her back, another one held her hip. She wanted to slap them off, but instead, she found herself leaning on them.
Damned Soartas.
She was so embarrassed by her fit earlier in the evening. She wanted time to sleep it off properly, to find out what in Hiad had happened to her energies at the damned park.

Sam shook her head awake. She couldn’t trust herself to stay upright, so down on the bed she went. She managed to sit on the edge of the mattress, somewhat gracefully.

Hikuro crouched beside her and enveloped the base of her skull in his hands, both thumbs prying her chin up. “Let me look at you. Open your eyes.”

Too weak to argue, she complied.

“Your pupils are normal now, not as dilated as before.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

He arched one eyebrow at her.

Cold shame of her childish answer ate at her. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not that rude.”

“You’ve been through quite an ordeal,” he replied, “it’s only natural to feel a bit…”

“Bitchy? Grumpy? Foul?”

“Raw.”

Sam paused. Yeah, that was exactly how she felt. Raw.

He slowly slid his hands along her arms, up and down her shoulders. His intentions had probably been to examine her, but Sam couldn’t ignore the way her insides churned with his touch. Why did he have to be so damn handsome?

His gaze searched hers. “You lost control of your powers, didn’t you?”

Sam swallowed dry and looked down. “I don’t know what happened. I think I saw…” She paused. It couldn’t have been her old psychiatrist. She had been only twelve years old when she was admitted into that horrible asylum, and back then her doctor had looked like he was around fifty. If he was still alive, he’d be celebrating his ninetieth birthday.

“What did you see, Sam? Tell me,” Hikuro requested softly.

She pursed her lips. Her skeptic-self protested – there was no way she’d give him her biggest weakness on a platter! But for some reason her heart was telling her to share the truth with Hikuro, even if it was all mashed up.

Probably feeling her hesitation, he retrieved his touch and sat back on his heels. “Sam, I know we started off on the wrong foot. Maybe in another life it would have been different, but we’re here now, fighting side by side. We must learn how to trust each other, whether we like it or not…whether we’re ready or not. Because if we don’t, our enemies will use this against us and they will win.”

Sam took a deep breath. He was right. Their little spat was so small and insignificant compared to what they were facing - the evil that was still loose, experimenting in innocents, producing acid bullets that ate a grown vampire inside out in just seconds. She drew in some courage from Gods-knew where and murmured. “I think I saw the head of the psychiatric institution I was in.”

She searched for any signs of judgment, but Hikuro’s face remained as impassive as always. So she carried on, “But, you see, that’s impossible, because Zoricah broke me out of that place when I was about twenty, and that was almost forty years ago. Dr. Burvis should be dead by now. The man I saw was still in his early fifties.”

“And you’re sure it was your old psychiatrist?”

Sam nodded. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’m not crazy.”

“I don’t doubt your sanity, Sam.”

You’re the only one then.

“There are several plausible explanations for your psychiatrist still being the same age as before.”

She frowned. She hadn’t thought of that. “Like?”

“Well, I still look like I’m in my early thirties, despite having been born in 1722.”

Her jaw dropped twelve feet. Hikuro was almost 300 years old? Holy Apa Dobrý.

His lips curved up in a crooked smile. “Yes, that’s quite old for your race, but not as much for mine.”

“Hang on,” she shook her head. “Are you saying Dr. Burvis is a vampire?”

He shrugged slightly. “He could’ve been a vampire, a dragon, fae, or any other being from Apa Sâmbetei
.
”

What he was saying actually made a lot of sense. Before meeting Zoricah, Sam had no idea that magical creatures roamed the same streets she did. That, added to the heavy drugs she was kept on, would have made it almost impossible for her to notice anything unusual.

“He certainly was cruel enough to rein over Hiad,” she chuckled bitterly. “He was known as Dr. Marquis de Sade at my ward. Everyone was scared shitless of him.”

Hikuro’s eyes flashed red for a split second. Sam was taken aback by his sudden display of rage. It had been a flicker of emotion but it had undoubtedly happened. Wow, she would have never thought that her pain would trigger such reaction in him. Did that mean he cared?

“So you followed him across to that park, and then?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

“Sam?” Hikuro lowered his chin and gazed at her from under his black lashes. “What happened?”

Trust him
, something inside her screamed, so she forced her lips to say, “my energies went off the charts. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t control them. It was as if...”

Oh, mighty Soartas, this is so difficult
. She covered her face with her hands. She needed Zoricah. Z would understand. She’d help her get through this.

“As if?” Hikuro whispered.

She drew in a long breath, then blurted it all out, “It was as if I was back at the psychiatric prison. This panic attack was exactly like the ones I used to have every time Dr. Burvis came into my room.”

Hikuro gently pulled her hands down, freeing her burning cheeks from their hiding place.

With all the strength she had, Sam lifted her eyes and braced herself for the scolding. He would probably lash out at her, then walk away and tell the whole world about how unreliable a fighter she was.

He did none of that.

Instead, he gently brushed a lock of hair off her face. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Sam. Of course your subconscious went into overdrive at the sight of the person who made you suffer for so long.”

Sam was lost for words.
Was that really happening?
She didn’t know what to make of this caring, understanding Hikuro. A part of her was still waiting for the judgmental ninja to break out and growl at her, but there was something in his eyes, in the way he was holding her, the way he was concerned for her, that went past her reason and warmed her heart.

Hikuro shook his head. “I shouldn’t have let you go without me.”

“Let me?” she snorted.

He lifted his hands in the air, as if in surrender. “I’m not saying you’re not a good fighter, Sam, because you are, but I am two and a half centuries more experienced than you. I should’ve known better.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m almost sixty.”

His eyes went wide. “Sixty? As in sixty years old?”

“Hmm-hum.”

His brow crinkled in the middle, then his dark eyes slowly roamed over her body. Sam remembered she was still in the hooker outfit Yara had made her wear. Oh, Gods.

“You certainly don’t look your age,” Hikuro said, his voice dropping a few octaves.

Holy Apa Dobrý.
“I don’t know why, but I stopped aging after I was…err…after I was admitted into the...” Shit, where did her brain go?

“Facility,” he finished her sentence. His hungry gaze was fixed on her mouth.

Sam suddenly felt very self-conscious. Her hair was probably as flat as a mattress, she smelled like wet grass and her make-up would probably earn her a spot in the new Cirque du Soleil show. She quickly ran a hand through her hair and tried to settle her unruly waves.
No use, sister, you probably look like road kill
, her undeserving superego sneered at her.

“Sam…” Hikuro mumbled, shaking his head. “You do this on purpose, don’t you?”

“Do what?”

“You must know how crazy I go when you look this way.”

“What way?” She seriously had no freaking idea.

He leaned forward and cupped the back of her neck with his hand.

“Like a lost kitten,” he whispered.

Sam’s muddled-up brain short-circuited and crashed. His delicious lips were inches from hers. Their past arguments, his coldness, her low self-esteem, it all vanished.

She slowly closed the gap between them. He first feathered his mouth over hers, as if asking for permission to enter. Her lips parted and he took what she offered. Oh, by Apa Dobrý, he tasted so good. His tongue slid inside and snaked around hers. While one hand massaged her scalp, the other caressed her naked thigh. His touch was colder than a human’s, but that didn’t lessen the trail of pure heat it left behind. Without breaking the kiss, he edged her legs apart and placed himself between them, then grasped her hips and pulled her close. His tight abs rubbed against her core, creating a delicious friction. Her insides quivered in response. Sam stroked his muscled back and shoulders. They felt firm, powerful under her fingers. Hikuro let out a low moan. His lips left hers and wove a smooth, wet path down her neck. He slid the trench coat off her shoulders, trapping her arms backwards. She was at his mercy. His fangs grazed her skin, his tongue licked the vale between her breasts. Oh, dear Gods! Sam’s core lit up like a Christmas tree. She felt her insides melt and wetness pool between her legs.

But her limbs started shaking. She felt her energies go wild with the intensity of her feelings.
Oh, no… Oh, no.
Her brain woke up and set off alarm bells. Too much, she was losing control again!

Without thinking, she tried to break free from Hikuro’s embrace, but he didn’t release her. So she pushed him off.

Hikuro went flying up in the air and crashed against the opposite wall.

Oh, crap. She had done it again. She had put too much energy into her movements.

In a flash, Hikuro crouched low and bore his fangs at her. Then he blinked a few times, as if waking up from a bad dream.

 “Hikuro... I’m…”

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” The pain in his eyes broke her heart in half.

“No, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Did I offend you?”

“No, you didn’t. It’s just that... It’s…” She was so sorry but her brain had gone AWOL.

“So why the fuck did you throw me across the room?” His eyes flashed red. His jaw was clenched so tightly Sam could swear she heard a couple of teeth crack.

“Hikuro, I don’t think it’s safe to…”
Say it, say it – I’m afraid if I go any further I’ll lose control and set your gorgeous ass on fire.
Yeah, that would have explained everything perfectly. She only needed to say those words. Out loud.

“You know what?” He stood up, towering over her. “Save it.” He turned around and marched to the door.

“Wait, Hikuro, please. It’s just –”

He spun back around. “It’s just what?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Fuck me! Who do you think you’re fooling, Sam? Just cut the fucking act.”

She jerked back, startled by the force of his anger.

He paused and ran a hand through his dark hair, then cursed in a language she couldn’t understand. “I don’t need this shit and I’ve had enough of your games,” he growled.

More than ever before, Sam cursed the vampire’s speed. She didn’t see him leave the room, just a blur of darkness.

She covered her face with her hands and plummeted onto the bed. Apa Dobrý, what had she done?

She had fucked up, again. That’s what she’d done.

Chapter 10

After the frustrating pseudo-argument with Sam, Yara went straight to the Common, undressed and let her panther loose. For a few precious minutes, it felt good to just run around – no mission, no vampires, no best friends who are forsaking their friendship. But a group of junkies arrived and she had to shift back into human form.
Damn it.
The short run didn’t even touch the surface of her tension. She needed more. But where could she let her panther free in the middle of freaking London?

She put her clothes back on and hailed a cab.

“To Knightsbridge, please,” Yara told the driver and settled in the back seat.

Her blood still boiled in her veins. Why hadn’t Sam wanted to talk to her? Ever since those stupid vampires entered their lives, everything had started to go wrong for Yara. The perfect friendship Z, Sam and Yara had built over the years was broken. First, Z hid her affair with the blood suckers’ king from them, now Sam refused to open up to Yara. By Apa Dobrý, they’d always shared everything! They used to spend hours bitching about men over ice cream. Where had those nights gone? Yara didn’t know, but she wanted them back. She
needed
them back.

The cab turned onto Brompton Road and Harrods’ famous green awnings came into view.

“You can stop here. Thanks.”

The driver pulled over. She paid the fare and stepped out. She looked down at herself. Her khaki mini skirt, black tank top, leather jacket, and ankle boots didn’t make up the perfect outfit for where she was going, but it would have to do. She had no time or wish to go back to Sam’s and change. The problem was London’s never-ending drizzle that made her short hair look like an electrocuted cat. She pulled her jacket over her head and quickened her pace.

A few minutes and a poodle-like hair-do later, Yara finally reached her destination. She stepped through the iron gates of the nondescript townhouse. They were always like that – nondescript. That was the key to their community. Her panther growled inside her. By Apa Dobrý, she needed some release and fast, before she got picked up by NWF. Literally. She went down the steps and rang the bell. A tall African man opened the door. He didn’t ask for a codeword; he wouldn’t dare – global patrons like her were treated like celebrities in these places. The bouncer just stepped aside and let her in.