Blood Destiny (28 page)

Maybe he could use his spells to help us. He knows a lot of magic...."

Jocelyn's heart skipped a beat. She didn't dare hope.

And then the light suddenly faded from his eyes. "But I'm telling you, I'm too weak to do it now." He turned his head and gestured to indicate the inside of his arm, the brachial artery. "They took too much of my blood."

Jocelyn looked at the torn, blood-soaked shirt hanging from Braden's thin frame. Why hadn't she seen that before?

The young man had lost a tremendous amount of blood. She stepped back and covered her face in her hands to hide her dismay. And then she began to cry, unable to remain strong for him any longer.

Braden slowly raised his head and looked at her. He steadied his gaze like a predator studying potential prey.

Intent on survival. "Unless—"

"Unless what?" Jocelyn asked. "Braden, do you have an idea?"

Braden shook his head and then let it drop again. "No...I don't have any ideas."

He was lying. Why?

Jocelyn gently cupped his face in her hands. His beautiful burnt-sienna eyes were dark with anguish, his pale, painted white skin streaked with blood and tears. "Tell me, Braden.

What were you thinking?"

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Braden swallowed hard. "Blood." The word was a mere whisper.

"What?" she asked.

"If I could take your blood, it might make me strong enough to reach Nachari. Maybe even long enough for him to help me. Or at least to figure out where we are."

Shamefully, Jocelyn stepped back from the cross, her eyes open wide with alarm.

So much for strength and courage.

Not that, she thought. Anything but that!

She swallowed hard and summoned her bravery. "What exactly do you mean, Braden? If I...gave you my blood...what exactly could you do?"

Braden sniffled. "I'm not sure exactly. But I know I would be strong enough to call out to Nachari for help. At least for a minute. Maybe I could even hold a mind-merge long enough for him to use his power to get me down from here.

Remember? When I got stuck? How he turned me into a bat and then back into my own body? When I couldn't do it myself?"

Jocelyn nodded. "I remember."

Braden dropped his head. "But I won't have very long, maybe only like thirty seconds or something." All at once, the golden irises of his eyes lit up as a spark of hope appeared in their depths. "Jocelyn, did Nathaniel convert you yet? Did he ever take your blood?"

Jocelyn's hand went instinctively to her throat. "No, never." Her denial was adamant.

The light in his eyes extinguished.

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"Why?"

Braden shook his head slowly. "Because, if he had converted you, the two of you could talk telepathically. You could talk to any of them. And if your blood was inside of him, he could find you anywhere. Anytime he wanted. It's kind of like radar: GPS for vampires. Without it, there's no way he can find you."

Jocelyn closed her eyes. Nathaniel had avoided both converting her and taking her blood, even though his life depended upon her safety...her staying with him. He had not acted selfishly, and now they might all die because of it.

Jocelyn ran her hand softly along Braden's cheek, bracing herself against his constant shivering and the agonized grimace of pain that accompanied his every spoken word.

This young boy was innocent. The son of a woman who had been claimed by a vampire. A human. Just like her. Someone taken and converted. Braden had been brought into this dangerous world without any choice in the matter, so how could she possibly leave him to die such an agonizing death?

And God forbid, what if he didn't die?

They had kept him alive this long for a reason: What were they planning to do with him when they returned?

Jocelyn's stomach turned over. She couldn't afford to be afraid right now. She couldn't possibly be that selfish.

When she thought about her informant, she knew Willie had been the one in the shed with Braden. And God help her, but she wanted nothing more than to put a bullet through his head right now. To call Nachari, Nathaniel, Kagen, and Marquis to Braden's aid—not just to save him but to avenge 265

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him. If the cost of that vengeance was her own blood, then so be it.

Steeling her resolve, she looked Braden straight in the eyes. "What do I need to do, Braden? How do I give you my blood?"

Braden winced. "To be honest, I'm not so sure I'm strong enough to take it: My dad...and Nachari...they still mostly feed me." He looked away like he was embarrassed...as if he hated having to tell her that secret. "I tried a couple times, but I wasn't very...smooth at it. You know what I mean?"

Jocelyn shook her head.

"I mean that it's probably..." He sighed, his frustration growing. "It's probably gonna hurt...for you...if I try."

Jocelyn placed a hand over her stomach.

He could have kept that information to himself.

"Don't talk like that, Braden," she admonished. "Trust me; you're not helping your case. Let's just both keep focused on what we need to do here. There's no way I'm going to leave you in this shed, so this thing we're going to do, it's not optional."

A crimson tear escaped his eye, and Braden turned away.

Jocelyn stroked his cheek. "Oh man, Braden. We're in quite a mess, aren't we?"

Braden nodded, and then he blinked back his tears, equally determined. "I could try your wrist, but the vein's not as good. Not as much blood flow. A lot slower, too. Your neck would be easier...for me."

Jocelyn all at once felt her legs begin to give out from underneath her. She reached up and clutched at the cross in 266

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an effort to steady herself...only to end up rattling Braden, who immediately cried out from the pain of the unexpected movement.

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Braden..."

Man, they needed to get this show on the road.

Braden sniffled and tried to nod.

Jocelyn took another deep breath. "Okay...since we both know we're going to do this, and you're going to be just fine at it, let's make sure we're on the same page before we start."

She wanted to make sure Braden would use his time with Nachari wisely. And even more than that, she wanted to be sure they would not have to attempt it more than once.

"The moment you connect with Nachari, I want you to tell him the extent of your injuries—make sure he understands that you're pinned to this cross. You need to let him know that you're with me, and there's no way I can get you down.

Tell him he has to be the one to help you, and he has to do it fast since you only have a few seconds to maintain contact. If you have any extra time after that, try to describe the contents of the shed...what kind of tools we have access to...maybe he can come up with an idea that I can't. Can you remember all of that, Braden?"

Braden looked overwhelmed.

And if Jocelyn was being perfectly honest with herself, she had to admit it was a tall order....

She had seen the young man at Nathaniel's house, trying as hard as he could to utilize his abilities, and the truth was, the kid just didn't have a lot of...aptitude. But if there was 267

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one thing she knew for sure, it was that necessity truly was the mother of invention, and matters of life and death had a way of inspiring all kinds of newfound talent in people.

Hopefully, vampires were included in that theory.

"I'll try," he muttered.

Jocelyn felt her knees knock together and knew she needed to act quickly, before her courage left her. "Okay, then: the neck it is. Where do you need me?"

Braden looked down at her. "Can you pull your hair out of the way? And get up on your tippy toes. Bring your neck up to my mouth."

Despite the gravity of the situation, the young man sounded a little shy...as if he felt embarrassed saying those things to a female. Jocelyn paused for a moment, hoping there was no sexual association with the act of feeding for a male vampire. But when the thought became just a little too creepy, she pushed it out of her mind. There were plenty of other things to worry about right now; she would keep that concern to herself.

"You ready?" she asked.

Braden let his head fall to the side for a moment, as if he were resting, trying to gather his strength. When he was finally ready, he lifted his head and turned to face her again.

"I'm ready."

Jocelyn started to approach the young vampire, and then all of a sudden, she stumbled back: Young, shy little Braden looked positively...alarming. His beautiful sienna eyes had dimmed into harsh shadows, darker than the night, and his normally golden pupils had narrowed into small little slits, 268

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glowing like those of a predatory animal—the centers a deep, feral red. His soft, pouty lips were drawn back in a snarl, and they twitched in some sort of automatic response. The boy was practically salivating with anticipation.

This was not the shy, unsure child she had met at the house—the human who didn't know how to be a vampire. This was the real deal. And he was gearing up to sink those jagged fangs deep into her neck.

Jocelyn sent up a silent prayer and pressed her body as close to the cross as possible.

Don't flinch. Don't faint. Don't pull away.

She repeated the words like a mantra.

Don't flinch. Don't faint. Don't pull away.

And then she rose up on her toes, swept her hair to the side, and pressed her face, cheek-to-cheek, against Braden's.

Despite her resolve, her body shook with fear.

She could feel his warm breath against her neck, a strong contrast to the bitter cold of the night, as his head slowly turned to the side. He nuzzled her neck, gently sweeping his mouth back and forth several times as if trying to find the best angle, and oddly, the sensation had a calming effect on her body. And then, all of a sudden, when she had finally relaxed, a guttural hiss escaped his throat and he struck with unbelievable speed and accuracy.

Braden's head snapped down, his mouth latched onto her throat, and his sharp fangs sank deep into her artery with a ferocity she hadn't expected. The powerful bite almost dropped her in an involuntary reaction as a piercing pain shot 269

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through her neck, radiated through her shoulders, and traveled down the length of her spine.

Her legs shook. Her body convulsed. The reaction lasted almost thirty seconds before she finally surrendered to the power of the vampire's hold...before she finally went limp against him, relaxing into a growing web of enthrallment.

Her blood felt cold flowing out of her vein, and she could feel the powerful tug as he sucked, his mouth drawing deep gulps of the life-giving fluid out of her body and into his. And then just like that, she was there: merged with Braden—

connected to Nachari.

She could feel the distinct presence of Nathaniel, Marquis, and Kagen as well, each of them projecting their individual essence as clearly as they presented their own personalities in person. Braden relayed the information exactly as Jocelyn had instructed...forgetting nothing.

Life and death, Jocelyn thought.

Nachari responded with quick, decisive action: You will drink until I tell you to release her, and then you will give your mind completely over to me so I can free you before we lose our connection.

Braden grunted an affirmative.

Jocelyn? The voice was Nathaniel's. Listen carefully, my love.

Jocelyn didn't know whether or not Nathaniel could hear her reply, and frankly, she was far too paralyzed with pain to respond even if he could, but the sound of his voice bathed her heart in warmth and hope. She hadn't realized until that 270

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moment how deeply she missed him, how strong their connection truly was.

Nachari has fed Braden before, but he has never taken his blood...so we cannot track you through that bond. We were able to follow your trail as far as the Snake Creek River, but the river forks in three directions and the storm has taken all other signs away. As soon as Braden is free, I need you to get to the flares and release as many as you can. Do not worry about the storm. Even if we can't see them, we will be able to smell the phosphorus. Just keep releasing flares. I promise: We will come to you immediately.

Jocelyn blinked her eyes, unable to move her head, hoping Nathaniel could sense her understanding. Hoping he knew how truly sorry she was for walking away the way she had.

And Jocelyn? It was Nathaniel's voice again. You need to know that Tristan is not alone. He has several soldiers with him, and they are not human, sweetheart. They are lycan—

werewolves. They can only be destroyed through extreme trauma or with a silver bullet through the heart. So do not try and fight them. Get to the flares, tiger-eyes.

Jocelyn was almost grateful that she was being held up by a massive set of fangs...by some kind of vampire enthrallment...that Braden had complete control of her body at that moment—because, otherwise, she was going to lose it.

Werewolves?

Enough was enough.

And then a powerful male voice resounded in their minds: Braden, it's Marquis.

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Braden became very still, listening intently.

How are you holding up, son?

Jocelyn heard Braden's heart skip a beat. Marquis had called him son, and he was practically holding his breath, straining to hear the fearsome warrior's next words.

I need you to do something for me: I need you to take care of Jocelyn...to do whatever it takes to keep the two of you safe until we can follow the flares. I know how difficult this is right now. I know that you are hurting, but this is what warriors do. And I believe that under all that silliness, you are a true warrior. Can you do that for me, son?