1305 & 1306 The Oracle & the Vampire (The 13th Floor) (3 page)

Harriet’s eyes fluttered closed. She hadn’t realized Kiral had lowered her to the floor until her hand fell weakly and rapped against the concrete. It had been so long since she felt this happy. The man she loved held her in his arms, and she was giving him what he needed to survive. Her blood. Her life essence was now in him too.

The world faded for a moment and her senses dulled. She floated as if she were misty breath dancing on air.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Shaking, Kiral dropped her to the floor and stumbled up the stairs.

Harriet didn’t feel it when she tumbled to the concrete. She was a smile. She was untethered bliss.

* * *

It seemed like an eternity before Harriet heard the door open. Or it could’ve been a few seconds. Did Kiral come back for her? She wanted him to hold her again.

Fingers on her neck and then she was scooped up by strong arms. Too many muscles and a broad chest. Not Kiral.

She asked where Kiral was, but she wasn’t sure her lips were moving.

Feeling returned to her body like an echo. The pleasure of Kiral’s bite quirked up her lips again. She paid no attention to the pounding, but imagined Kiral kissing her with his now warm mouth. Hot and sensual, wanting her every bit as she wanted him.

Softness cushioned her. A couch. So comfy.

From somewhere, Marc growled. She’d know that rough baritone anywhere. “Where did you find her? Who did this to her?”

“In the stairwell.” A second man’s voice. More cultured than Marc’s, but hard and sharp. Xan. “It was that vamp. I knew he was bad news.”

Kiral wasn’t bad news. How could they think such a thing?

“Damn him.” Marc snarled and took her hand in his. “Harri, you okay? How badly did he hurt you?”

“Kiral,” Harriet whispered. She had to explain. It wouldn’t do to have Marc angry with Kiral. She might need him to help later.

“Yes, I know. We’ll take care of him—”

“No.” She squeezed his hand as her eyes fluttered open. The apartment swam before her, but she couldn’t stop talking. They had to know. “You let him be. He didn’t hurt me. He stopped in time. It was … it was wonderful.”

Her eyes closed with her dreamy sigh and another smile.

Kiral’s sexy gaze locked with hers. In her mind. Did she pass out? She could still hear the chatter on the television. Where she was lying smelled like man. A little like coffee too. Still had to be in Marc’s apartment, but she didn’t hear him.

Oh dear. Marc didn’t leave to confront Kiral? She tried to rise, but her body wouldn’t listen. Perhaps she could enlist some help.

“Xan.” Harriet hoped he was still there. Xan and Marc going after Kiral was a doubly bad thing.

“I’m here.” Xan’s voice was soft and close to her head.

“Marc. He’s not … killing Kiral?” Her eyes fluttered, but they were so heavy. Even as she said it, she knew it was silly. Marc wouldn’t be the one to kill Kiral.

“No, I don’t think so.” Xan paused as if thinking about it. “Do you need anything? I’m at your service.”

No, Marc was Kiral’s friend. He might be angry that he bit her, but she’d recover. And oh, that bite. She could barely keep awake and she still wanted another one. She smiled, feeling warm through and through.

Harriet tried to open her eyes again with no luck. It didn’t matter. She liked what she was seeing in her mind’s eye. It reminded her that maybe Xan might understand now. She’d heard the woman in his apartment this past week.

“No, thank you. You’re sweet. I heard you have a woman in your apartment.”

He paused again and then asked, “Last night, you in the hall … .”

They’d heard her screaming then. And Xan knew of her curse. She could only imagine what he was feeling.

“Don’t worry.” Harriet finally managed to open her eyes a bit. She hoped she looked as sympathetic as she felt. “Not you. Not her.”

Xan let out a long breath. “May I ask who?”

Her stomach clenched. Kiral. She had to stay awake. She had to talk to him. Her head was starting to feel light again. Too light.

No. Harriet could feel tears coming on. “Kiral.”

Maybe Xan would help. Maybe. But instead he said, “Rest now. Your tears are more than he deserves.”

Harriet tried to tell him that Kiral was more than deserving. Xan never saw what a good soul the vampire was. She understood where Xan was coming from, battling evil as he did, but not everything with fangs was bad.

She was going to save Kiral. Even as unconsciousness wrapped around her, she saw him burning on the rooftop. She would make sure it didn’t happen. She would give him his future back.

CHAPTER 4

Kiral slammed his door and raced to smack into the far wall of his apartment, clinging to it as if it could keep him from going back to sup upon the young woman again. No, sup was too mild a word. He wanted to tear into her, lick up every drop on her bones, and then crack them open to feast upon her marrow.

He would kill her. Worse than just kill her. He needed to stay away from her.

He had to see her again.

She had given himself over to him. Knowing who and what he was, the honey-haired beauty bared her neck. Long and sinuous like her legs.

Who was she and why did she do it? There were people who were addicted to a vampire’s bite. She wasn’t one of them. Her body was unmarred. Perfect. She smelled familiar, but not like anyone he’d ever met.

Peeling himself from the wall, he paced the length of his apartment. The bare brick walls and black leather furniture did nothing to mute his mood. Blood lust roared within, but something else.

Kiral licked his lips, savoring her blood. Magic. More than just ordinary magic. Sweet and pure. Virgin? Perhaps, but that didn’t truly matter. It was who she was that resided in every cell. A taste of her soul.

Who was she? He had to know.

The lone lamp flickered in the corner by his reading chair. Heavy footsteps grew louder and stopped in front of his door. Pounding, like the echo of her heart, called him to it.

For a brief second, Kiral thought it might be her, but the fist smashing into his face as he opened the door punctuated the ridiculousness of the thought. He stumbled backwards, grabbing the back of a chair to keep his balance. Blood trickled from his busted lip.

A wave of heat accompanied Marc into Kiral’s apartment. If he thought his friend was angry when he caught him with the dealer, it was nothing compared to the raw fury in his eyes now. Did Marc think he killed the woman? He licked his bloody lip, shuddering with the sweetness of her.

Kiral held up a hand as if it could stop him. “Marc! Stop! I didn’t kill her. It’s—”

Again, Marc hit him. This time in the gut with the force of a sledge. Kiral doubled over, trying to get out the right words.

Yanking Kiral up by the hair, Marc hissed into his face. “You junkie scum. That girl lives here under my care.”

She was under Marc’s care? Not that Kiral would ever betray his friendship, but maybe Marc could help him with her. Introduce them properly, supervise them. Kiral could talk to her, hear that husky voice again, and get to know the woman who had changed his life.

Drastic as the realization seemed, the truth of it settled over him like a warm blanket.

“She lives here? On this floor? I’ve never seen her before.”

Marc narrowed his eyes. “You’ll leave her be. You’ve traumatized the poor girl enough. What’s gotten into you? You drink something?” Marc released Kiral, but didn’t move away. “I saved your ass earlier and you run off to find another hit?”

It was like another fist to the abdomen to hear his friend say that. Yet what did he expect Marc to think? He’d been caught talking with a dealer and then nearly drained a woman in the stairwell. He was lucky Marc didn’t punch him again for he more than deserved it.

“No.” Kiral shook his head, desperate for Marc to see he wasn’t lying. “No, I didn’t. I wandered around for a while, and it was a fight. I felt like I was losing my mind. I’d come so close. If you hadn’t—” He cut himself off. Marc knew what happened. One thing he liked about their friendship was that some things didn’t need to be said. What he needed to explain was how he felt about the woman. Picturing her face, rounded cheeks and eyes like a summer sky, he smiled.

“I came back here, and when I ran into her in the stairwell, oh, she smelled like nothing else in this world. I couldn’t help myself. And I swear, I swear she didn’t fight me. It was as if she wanted it too. She’s better than any high. She’s like tasting heaven.”

Perhaps she was an angel. Not that what Kiral rambled on about was helping his case. Marc’s jaw clenched as he looked away from him.

Was Marc disgusted by him? His friend had witnessed him at his lowest. Shaking, ranting, sobbing. Yet Marc had never seen him feed, or even the aftermath of his drinking. Maybe he thought Kiral meant to kill her. Or even that Kiral didn’t care.

No, he had to show him. He’d make this right. “I need to see her, Marc.”

“Just leave Harriet alone. She has a tough enough life without you stalking her.” Marc pushed Kiral back and turned to the door. He paused, and said over his shoulder, “She’s all right. After a good rest and a meal, she’ll be fine. Go clean yourself up and forget about her.”

She was going to be okay. Kiral’s legs went limp, and he braced himself against the chair for support. And not just any she now. Her name was Harriet.

He paused, cocking his head to the side as something dawned on him. “Harriet? Like the old woman across the hall? Is she her granddaughter, or great-granddaughter?”

“Let it go, Kiral.” Marc shook his head and dragged his feet as he left the apartment, shutting the door softly behind him.

Kiral barely heard him. Harriet. That’s why she smelled familiar. She was related to the crone. Not only that, but they lived together. How long had she lived there? Why had he never seen her before? Her move was likely recent. It had to be recent or he’d surely know.

He licked at his lip again, but the cut had healed. Harriet.

Once an old woman’s name and now that of the gorgeous young woman who had claimed his soul. Not through force or seduction, but through compassionate submission.

Harriet lived here, just across the hall from him. All Kiral had to do was wait. He pulled a chair over to sit in front of his apartment door. Leaning back and locking his fingers, his leg jiggled.

She’d have to open that door sooner or later. He had all the time in the world.

CHAPTER 5

Nightmares dragged Harriet from her healing sleep. Not just dragged, but trampled, drew, and quartered her. She was still in Marc’s apartment, but he wasn’t home. No need to call out for him. She’d be able to feel his massive presence if he were there.

Sitting up, she nearly fell back down from light-headedness. A potion would help refresh the blood in her system. Or rather, the lack of blood in it.

Her hand fluttered up to her neck, caressing the spot where Kiral had bitten her. Harriet smiled, imagining his sexy bedroom eyes and how his body felt against her. His burning body. Sunlight, chains, fire.

She shuddered and forced herself to focus. It was still early in the day. Just after noon. Lots of time. She would save him.

It took her five minutes to get out of Marc’s apartment and walk down the hall, but with one hand on the wall to help balance herself, she made it to her place without toppling over.

Both cats were at the door when Harriet opened it, and they vocalized their complaints. They wove between her legs as she stumbled into the kitchen. She threw open the cupboards to mentally brew an elixir to stimulate her blood cell production. The meowing kept derailing her train of thought.

“Hush now, please. I’m barely standing. Let me fix this potion and then you can have some treats if you let me nap.”

Kerr huffed and took a seat on her left foot. Elli continued to make noise as Harriet gathered and measured the ingredients. She spilled some expensive saffron powder and cursed.

“Elanore, be quiet.” Harriet snapped and then immediately apologized when she saw her cat’s offended expression. “I’m sorry, but I’m not well. Kiral bit me, and I need to get better so I can help him. He’s going to die if I don’t do anything.”

She nipped her lower lip to keep it from trembling. No more tears. She was going to save him.

Before starting on the elixir, she called Ms. Bates to tell her she wasn’t coming. She didn’t want her to worry.

Mixing her potion, she filtered in a bit of her remaining energy to heat and activate it. She swirled it in the cup, took a deep breath, and gulped the whole thing down. She knew better than to sniff it. It would make drinking it nearly impossible.

There was no way she was going to make it to neither her bedroom nor the living room. Harriet’s legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor in slow motion. She snatched a dishtowel on the way down and used it as a thin pillow. Kiral’s gorgeous smile was her last thought as she lost consciousness.

When the nightmares came this time, Harriet’s own cries startled her awake. No, those weren’t nightmares. She should’ve realized it before. Visions. Dozens and dozens of visions. So many monsters, so much death. What was going on?

Harriet had had prophetic dreams before, but nothing like this. What was even stranger was that some of those monsters were the ones she’d seen in her vision of Kiral’s death. Perhaps Fate was helping her, trying to give her details that would guide her in her quest.

Her body was stiff, but at least when she sat up this time, she didn’t feel like she was ready to faint. Kerr was lying on the floor at the other side of the kitchen watching her. His tail flicked.

“I’m better.” Pushing herself up, Harriet nodded as she didn’t wobble. “Yes, better.”

Kerr didn’t move. Did he even blink?

“Ah, that’s right. I forgot to give you treats.” Harriet took the can of cat treats from the cupboard above the stove. The one door the cats couldn’t open. She shook out two and bent down to hand them to Kerr, stroking his head as he ate them. “Where’s Elli? Usually she comes running when she hears me open the cupboard.”