Secrets in Blood Page 7

  With a hand braced on the edge of his cot, he watched her. “Run, cara. The hallway is clear. I hear no one. Run now and do not look back. Escape this place before they kill me. Please.”

  How could she run now? Knowing he suffered so close to where she slept. Knowing her father was to blame. She had to free him. But how?

  7

  Desperation. Pain. Evangeline woke with a start, her hands clenched into fists.

  “Run.”

  Nic’s voice haunted her dreams. Her legs ached. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped. Unable to move. For two days, she’d paced, trying to think of a way to free him. But she had to get the code to her father’s lab, then open the silver cell, and somehow get a half-naked vampire out of the catacombs.

  Her original plan had been so simple. Go out hunting, don’t come back. Six months ago, she’d found an abandoned cabin fifteen miles from the catacombs. Every surface had been covered with dust, but she’d slowly—a few minutes every time she went hunting alone—cleaned it up enough for her to rest there for a day before heading to Seattle. From there, she’d find a police officer, tell her story, and pray they’d help her.

  But now…Nic needed clothes. Shoes. She could try to sneak into the storeroom late at night, but all the clothes in the world wouldn’t do him any good without being able to get out of his cell.

  At breakfast, her father strode in, whistling. “Here,” he said as he handed her the portal generator. “If you can bring in another buck, we can have a celebration in a few days.”

  “A celebration?” She arched a brow. “What for?”

  Henry poured himself a cup of instant coffee and inhaled deeply. “I’m almost done with my research. We’ll be able to leave this place soon. The blood samples you gave me yesterday were perfect. I’ll have everything I need within a week. We’ll be immune to vampire control, strong enough to fight them, and free to return to Seattle. The bishop is very pleased.”

  Stifling her shudder, Evangeline forced a smile. “That’s good. I’m…proud of you, Henry—Dad.” As Evangeline punched in the portal code, her father straightened, the self-satisfied look on his face turning her stomach.

  A slight breeze stirred the fallen leaves as she stepped into the middle of the forest. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  Shouldering her bow and quiver and then adjusting her pack, she started to run. Racing over the snow-covered forest floor, jumping over small branches, climbing over the hill that led to the cabin, she pushed herself faster than ever before. Fifteen miles in a little over ninety minutes. No one could match her speed.

  The cabin door creaked as she pushed it open. Hiding the jerky she’d stolen this morning in a cabinet, she glanced around the small space. The furniture had seen better days, but the bed was clean, the bathroom’s chemical toilet still functioned, and she could light the boiler for hot water. Checking the cistern level out back and finding it full, she locked the door and headed back to her preferred hunting grounds. She couldn’t be gone too long, or her father would get suspicious.

  The sun filtered through the trees, watching over her from high in the sky. The trip back was largely downhill, and faster, and she let herself daydream about freedom. But…what about Nic? Once she got him out of the catacombs, what would he do?

  She’d just found him again after eighteen years. A part of her wished they could get to know one another. But he’d run as soon as he got a whiff of free air. And though she didn’t subscribe to her father’s bigotry, she wouldn’t risk her humanity. He’d been kind when she was a child. He’d seemed kind the other night. But outside of the silver cage, would he be the same person?

  Two rabbits fell quickly to her arrows, and she scanned the forest for signs of deer. Checking her watch, she cursed quietly. She had to get back. First, though, she had to stow her bow and arrows so she could have them when she ran. The less she had to carry with her during her escape, the better.

  Evangeline jumped, grabbing onto a tree branch six feet above the ground. Pulling herself up, she stashed her quiver and bow amid the lush leaves.

  As her feet hit the ground, a twig snapped behind her. Shit. Carefully, she drew her knife from the holster at her waist.

  The vicious snarl accompanied a massive weight slamming into her back. Ribs splintered, and agony wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. She screamed, or tried to, but only managed a tortured whimper.

  Rough fur slipped through her fingers as she twisted and grabbed at the animal. Dripping canines snapped at her. A wolf. As his jaw clamped down on her right arm, tearing flesh and shattering bone, Evangeline scrambled to transfer the knife to her free hand. Her first strike glanced off the wolf’s pelt, but the second slid between two of the wolf’s ribs.

  The animal’s howl pierced the afternoon air, and her fingers slipped from the knife. Each breath strained her further, blood streaming from her arm and her side. When the wolf tore into her thigh, she could only gasp and try to focus on the blue sky, the warmth of the sun on her face.

  Dead. I’m dead.

  Yellow eyes stared her down. His head wove back and forth—or maybe she was just dizzy and seeing things.

  I’m sorry, Nic. I can’t save you.

  Darkness tinged the edges of her vision. The wolf lowered his head, growled, and lunged for her. Adrenaline gave her a burst of strength, and she grabbed the wolf’s head, twisted, and snapped his neck.

  The massive, dead animal landed on her chest. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

  Her lungs burned. She started to shiver.

  Shock.

  No one knew where she was. No one would come for her.

  Closing her eyes, she let the welcoming numbness spread through her body.

  I’m sorry.

  8

  Nic sat up with a snarl, a dark terror seizing his heart. Longo shouted from down the hall. “Hurry!”

  Blood. His fangs lengthened at the delicious scent, but then he heard her moan. Evangeline. Longo burst through the door, he and the thin one—Jake—carrying a prone human on a stretcher.

  No!

  Evangeline lay still, her blood dripping onto the cold, sterile floor. Something had shredded her clothing, and Nic shouted her name as the harsh lights of the room reflected off of a shard of her femur.

  “Get the donor blood,” Longo ordered, and Miss Duffield raced out of the room.

  If only he could get closer—damn the silver bars. “What did you do to her?” he asked, unable to keep the venom out of his voice.

  No one paid him any mind. The lab assistant returned with two bags of blood. “Ten units into her arm. Give me the other bag.” Once Miss Duffield handed it over, Longo ripped open the bag and poured some of the blood into Evangeline’s mouth. The scent traveled quickly—vampire blood, but not his. Longo had another vampire somewhere.

  Evangeline moaned, trying to spit the blood out of her mouth. Tears escaped her shuttered lids, and as Nic strained to listen, her heart rate slowed.

  “Tu sei un figlio di puttana,” he shouted. But the son of a bitch ignored him. Longo tried to force more blood into Evangeline's mouth and had Miss Duffield start an IV, but their efforts failed. With every drop of blood, Evangeline weakened.

  If he couldn’t get to her, his Evangeline would die. He pleaded with his captors. “Bring her closer. Let me save her!”

  “Give her more. And shut that thing up. I’m tired of listening to him,” Henry muttered, and Gary picked up the tranq gun.

  “You are killing her!” Nic couldn’t see her breathing but still heard the occasional rattle in her chest. “If you do not listen to me, she will die.”

  Longo narrowed his eyes at Nic. “Why isn’t vampire blood healing her?”

  “I can smell the young one’s blood from here. How old? Ten years? Twenty?” Nic shook his head. Fools.

  “Twenty-six.”

  “And how long ago did this bambino ‘donate’ the blood?” Nic pressed himself against the silver bars, ignoring
the pain the deadly metal sent shooting through him.

  Whatever Longo heard in Nic’s voice gave him pause. “Last year.”

  “That blood is no better than water. Use my blood. Please. You do not need to let me out. Roll her closer and slit my wrist. I can save her.” Thrusting his arm as far through the bars as he could, he prayed Longo would listen to him.

  The doctor nodded to Jake. “Get some of that thing’s blood from the fridge.”

  “No! She is too far gone. My blood weakens the longer you store it. Give her fresh blood.”

  Jake grabbed his wrist. Nic’s knees buckled as the silver leached the strength from his legs, but he didn’t flinch as the needle pierced his skin. Thick, red blood filled one vial, then another. Every second Jake wasted switching the full vials for empty ones, Evangeline drifted closer to death.

  “Here!” Jake ripped the needle from Nic’s arm and tossed one of the vials to Longo. His captor tipped the glass tube, pouring the blood into Evangeline's mouth. She swallowed, only a faint gurgle of protest. With a small sigh, she turned her head towards Nic, though she didn’t open her eyes.

  “We’re losing her.” Longo stalked over to the cage. “You said your blood would save her.” He pulled the pistol from his holster and aimed between Nic’s eyes. “Useless. A fucking waste.”

  “Give her a few moments,” Nic begged. “Her breathing…it is stronger now. She will recover.”

  Longo grabbed the sides of the table they’d laid Evangeline on. “Eva? Eva!”

  Something pushed at Nic’s mind. Fear. Resignation. Despair.

  “Evangeline. Do not leave me.”

  He didn’t think she could hear him, for such a connection usually only formed after numerous exchanges of blood over years, but he had to try.

  She struggled to open her eyes. “Ni…” she moaned.

  Longo slapped her cheek. “What are you trying to say, Eva? Wake up.”

  The spark of life Nic felt within his precious Evangeline faded. He sensed her pain, the temptation to give in to the darkness. “Stay. Stay with me. You must live. My memories of you brought me joy these long years. Do not leave me now. Can you hear me?”

  Her heart rate spiked, and her body spasmed weakly, but a single, whispered word escaped her lips. “Yes.”

  Vaffanculo. She could hear him. He kept talking, whispering directly to her mind. “You cannot die, my sweet one. Stay with me. Breathe. In. Out. I will not leave you. Let me tell you a story.”

  9

  Her legs itched. Unfamiliar fabric—rough and heavy—rubbed against her bare skin. Her head throbbed. As she flexed her fingers, her joints ached.

  The wolf. Her ribs shattered. Jaws clamping around her arm. Tearing into her thigh. Someone shouting. Blacking out and waking with the taste of blood in her mouth.

  Then his voice. Nic. Those intense violet eyes. His desperate, caring words.

  “Nic? Are you there?”

  Only silence answered her.

  She risked a deep breath, and a spiderweb of twinges spread across her torso. Pain stabbed between her ribs. Intense, but bearable. How had she lived? Fuzzy memories of Hamlet, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Much Ado About Nothing, all recited in his deep, accented voice. When he’d switched to a love story, La Vita Nuova, he’d called it, his words had tethered her to this world, though she wanted to escape into the comforting darkness that called to her.

  “Eva, honey?” Cassie’s face swam in and out of focus as she took one of Evangeline’s hands. “Can you drink some water?”

  Cool liquid soothed her raw throat, and Evangeline moaned when Cassie pulled the straw away. “More in a bit. You’re still weak.”

  “Where…” The single word took all of Evangeline’s strength, and she closed her eyes as black spots swam in her vision.

  “You’re in the infirmary, sweetie. Rest up. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” Cassie tucked the blankets firmly around Evangeline’s body, and though she tried to move her arms, she wasn’t strong enough to free herself. A single tear trailed down her cheek, and she ached to hear Nic’s voice once more.

  The next time she opened her eyes, Cassie sat next to her bed, knitting.

  “Water,” Evangeline croaked.

  “Oh, thank God.” Cassie tipped a glass to Evangeline’s chapped lips, and this time, she was allowed to drink enough that her tongue no longer felt two sizes too large for her mouth. “You gave us quite a scare. If it weren’t for Henry’s drugs…. His research saved your life.”

  Shaking her head brought a wave of dizziness, but Evangeline knew the truth. “He…gave me…blood.”

  “Oh, honey,” Cassie said patiently, “he gave you medicine.” She patted Evangeline’s bandaged arm, and fear darkened her eyes. “You couldn’t have known what he was doing. You were unconscious the whole time.”

  “How…long?” Her eyes hurt, and she didn’t think she could stand, but even through the haze of exhaustion, she could tell her bones weren’t broken any longer.

  Rather than answer, Cassie stood, set her knitting aside, and wrung her hands. “Henry can explain. I’m going to go tell him you’re awake.”

  “No. I…don’t…I heard someone else, Cass. Someone…foreign. Who was he?” Would Cassie tell her about Nic?

  “You must have been hallucinating. Henry and I were the only ones caring for you. Now, let’s get you warm, and then I’m going to get Henry.” Cassie pulled yet another blanket up to tuck around Evangeline’s weakened body, then patted her thigh. “Rest. I’ll be back soon.”

  Evangeline closed her eyes, feigning sleep, but as soon as Cassie’s footsteps turned down the hall, she struggled free from the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the cot. Gauze bound her left thigh and her right arm. Lifting the thin medical gown, she winced at a mottled half-moon pattern of bite marks along her ribs.

  She shouldn’t be able to even sit up, let alone stand, but she held on to the bed frame and slowly got to her feet.

  “Gotta hand it to you, Henry,” she muttered. “Whatever you did to me certainly worked.”

  With each step, she strengthened. By the time she reached the bathroom, sweat glistened on her brow, but her steps had steadied. “Where are you?” she whispered, hoping Nic could somehow hear her. She splashed cold water on her face. Dark circles bruised her eyes, and she almost fell on her way back to the bed.

  Nic had saved her. She didn’t know how, but her father…in her memories, she heard him yelling. Cursing at Nic. Nothing made sense.

  I have to get out of here. And I have to take Nic with me.

  Too exhausted to sit up any longer, she curled on her side and let sleep take her.

  Someone had left a bowl of berries and textured protein for her. She winced as she reached for the bowl, but the pain faded almost immediately. Once she’d shoveled the food down, she limped out of the infirmary, the cold concrete floors freezing her bare toes. Sweat trickled down her back from the sudden exertion, and the hospital gown clung to her over-sensitized skin. Stopping outside her door, she glanced down the hall. Red lights blinked on the lock outside of Henry’s lab. She had to get back in there. Had to know if Nic was even still alive. But the short walk had drained her. Still, she crept forward until she could rest her hand against the metal door.

  “Are you there? Are you alive?”

  No answer. She had to get past that door. She didn’t even know what time it was—but the hallways were quiet. It had to be late. Glancing down at the hospital gown, she winced. Traipsing through the halls like this definitely would get her noticed. But if she went back to her dorm and changed, she could blend in.

  By the time she coded herself into her room, though, exhaustion had set in again, and she could barely keep her eyes open. Food. She needed more food. Pulling two of the protein bars from her stash, she lay down on her bed and tried to stay awake until she’d finished them. But she drifted in and out.

  “Evangeline, I can no longer sense you. Per favore,
your father will tell me nothing. Tell me if you are alive, cara. Come to see me if you can.”

  With a gasp, she pushed herself up, suddenly completely awake. The strain in Nic’s voice frightened her, but she’d tried to reach him so many times since she’d woken in the infirmary.

  “Nic? Can you hear me?”

  Only silence answered her. With a quick glance at the clock, she made her decision. The security patrol would come through the halls in twenty minutes. The rest of the residents would be asleep. Rising, her slight limp the only evidence of the attack that should have killed her, she entered the bathroom.

  Punching up her daily allotment of hot water, she unwrapped her bandages and stepped under the spray.

  Jagged lines from the wolf’s teeth were fading, though her leg was still swollen and the skin tingled. Her arm bore similar marks. Washing her hair, she felt only a few twinges from her ribs.

  Once she’d dried and braided her hair, she pulled on a soft green tunic and loose-fitting gray pants. Fastening Nic’s coin around her neck for luck, she peered out her door.

  Her skin hummed with an almost electrical charge as she padded down the hall in thick socks. But how would she get past the code? She tried her father’s birthday, then Cassie’s, and finally, Cassie’s daughter’s. The light turned green with a quiet beep, and she slipped through, praying her luck would hold.

  The hallway smelled of blood, and she caught sight of a few drops along the edges of the floors. Her father’s shouts echoed in her ears. Vague memories of the bright overhead lights burning her eyes as her father and one of his men carried her into the lab swirled in her mind.

  Nic slept on the thin cot, no blanket or pillow. A fresh burn slashed across his chest, and he bore the strain of the injury even in slumber.