Blood Destiny (33 page)

She took a step forward, attempting to join their line.

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Nathaniel moved like the wind then, completely cutting her off. His hand caught her wrist in an iron grasp, twisting with such force that she thought her bones might crumble, even as Kagen closed in on her flank. And then Nathaniel shoved her behind him, trapping her between his own body and his twin's.

Jocelyn grimaced, but she refused to cry out in pain: to even acknowledge that it hurt. And then with a courage she didn't really possess, she pushed her way next to Nathaniel and turned her head to face the Dark Ones in a show of solidarity.

This was her family too now, and she would fight with them.

As all four of the undead slowly turned their heads to measure the defiant female, glaring directly at her with four pair of hate-filled eyes, Jocelyn's knees began to buckle and her stomach turned to jelly.

The piercing glares seemed to burn right through her, and then a depraved smile curved along the lips of the tallest male. He was standing closest to the front and took an almost imperceptible step forward as his eyes measured her up and down, stopping momentarily to sneer at the nine-millimeter in her hand.

Oh hell, Jocelyn thought, as common sense finally began to replace valor, and the desire to survive finally began to trump her previous fanatical impulse to...do what?

She was standing in front of four supernatural beings: vampires. Each one baring lion-sharp fangs. Each one possessing the ability to move so swiftly that she would be 311

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dead before she ever saw them coming. Not one of them was capable of being shot, and all of them were more than capable of becoming invisible. Yet there she stood: holding a weapon loaded with silver bullets, a method that only worked on...werewolves.

As if the tall Dark One could read her mind—and truth be known, he probably could—a low, wicked laugh rumbled in his throat. Their evil gazes turned back to the males, but she was certain her stupidity was now the main element of Nathaniel's strategy. She had placed him in a much more vulnerable position than he had been in before, and the growing awareness made her sick to her stomach.

As if the battle with the lycans had not been enough for him, Marquis's hand began to twitch, and his eyes lit up...turning from red to yellow then red again. He fingered a dagger just inside of his coat sleeve, allowing the silver blade to slide noiselessly into his hand.

"Ready to play when you are," he hissed, his mouth turned up in a smile.

The tall one turned ever so slightly to regard Marquis, and then a sudden, unexpected movement startled him from behind—a strong hand placed on the leader's chest in a gesture of...restraint. The confusion was palpable. The tension unbelievable. As they all stood...waiting...to see what the male was going to do.

Jocelyn recoiled, immediately calling unwanted attention to herself, but she couldn't help it. She'd know those familiar eyes anywhere.

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Until the day she died, the enraged look of those pupils, the deep lines of desperation etched into the male's brow, the feel of that tangled mass of hair beneath the pads of her fingers would be scorched into her memory. In the throes of life and death, she had stared at that face...and taken in every nuance.

She had memorized every detail. She had been terrified by his overwhelming desire to kill. She had been drawn in by his desperate yearning to survive....

It was the vampire from the shed—the one who had been manacled to the guillotine. As he stepped beside the leader, he looked her over—thoughtfully—his face still reflecting the unmistakable malevolence so characteristic of his kind. Yet there was something else reflected in his features as well: a recognition in his eyes, a reasoning that went beyond instinctual.

Nathaniel looked from the Dark One to Jocelyn...and then back to the Dark One again...immediately picking up on the unspoken connection between them.

He saw it. And he didn't like it.

A low growl of warning rose in his throat as he subtly shifted his posture; his sinewy muscles expanded and contracted with the promise of lethal attack. His focused glare burned like a laser straight into the Dark One's eyes, and his face held the swift assurance of death.

The Dark One hissed in response, but his eyes never left Jocelyn's. And then he exhaled and inclined his head in a faint nod. "And you are?"

The Dark One waited, his eyes fixed on hers.

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Jocelyn cleared her throat, trying to find her voice:

"Jocelyn."

The sound was hardly a whisper.

Nathaniel's head spun around and he glared at her with unadulterated scorn. She felt a strange constriction in her throat—a numbing, like paralysis—and she knew Nathaniel had taken control over her voice: She could no longer speak.

Jocelyn would not utter another sound—not even if she wanted to.

The Dark One seemed wholly unaffected by Nathaniel's blatant show of authority. "I am Saber...Alexiares." He introduced himself...to Jocelyn.

Marquis, Nachari, and Kagen all caught their breath at the same time, stunned by the Dark One's audacity—his blatant provocation to battle.

"You wish to decree your own death-sentence, Dark One?"

Nathaniel asked, his voice as hard as stone. "Do not be a fool!

Such arrogance will not go unpunished."

The Dark One quickly turned his gaze to meet Nathaniel's and nodded with deference...a clear understanding that Jocelyn belonged to him. "The female is yours. I meant no disrespect."

The tall vampire standing in the front snapped his head around and hissed at Saber, clearly incensed, but the male continued. "We have one wounded in the forest, and a dead child who was taken yesterday behind the shed." He gestured toward the cabin. "You have an injured child as well."

This time when his eyes scanned Jocelyn, it was not a direct connection with her as much as an indication to 314

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Nathaniel. "For this night only, let us gather our dead and our wounded and return to our homes; we can kill each other tomorrow."

Marquis grunted, then snarled. "You are already dead, foolish one."

Saber hissed, his muscles twitching in a clear effort to maintain control. He obviously wanted to fight as much as Marquis did, and the insult didn't sit well with him. But he looked once more at Jocelyn...and took another deep breath.

"Perhaps." His eyes remained focused on Nathaniel.

The sons of Jaegar standing beside him were visibly staggered. They looked completely appalled, as if his words were a direct affront to their pride, and they weren't sure how to handle the unexpected situation.

"We do not need permission from ones such as these, Saber, to gather our dead and our injured. What the hell are you doing?" It was the prominent one who spoke.

Saber shook his head. "Rest assured, I am not asking permission of anyone." He turned to regard the one who spoke as their leader and indistinctly bared his fangs. Then he gestured toward the shed and the forest and began to walk away. When the others reluctantly followed, it became blatantly clear who their leader really was.

Jocelyn exhaled as relief washed over her. Nathaniel would not have to fight anymore tonight; she might actually get to live until tomorrow, and hopefully, he would not grow any angrier than he already was. She had escaped her own foolishness...this time.

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As she watched the dark vampires walk away, she couldn't help but take one more look at Saber Alexiares. Had her actions in the shed had anything to do with his decision?

As if he was reading her thoughts, he turned to look over his shoulder, and the faint corner of his cruel mouth turned up just a fraction. "If only for this night," he snarled, the truth of what he was evident in the evil hiss of his voice, "the enemy of my enemy...." His voice trailed off.

Jocelyn looked down at the ground, not wanting to incur anymore of Nathaniel's wrath.

"What does that mean?" he hissed.

Jocelyn put her hand to her throat; it was a gesture asking him to release her voice. As she felt her vocal cords relax, she cleared her throat. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. In the shed...earlier...I saved his life. And he saved mine."

Nathaniel looked up toward the forest, staring at the son of Jaegar incredulously. "Dark One," he called, "is this true?" He looked every bit as stunned as the other vampires had been only moments earlier. Kagen, Nachari, and Marquis looked equally astonished.

Saber shrugged his shoulders and stopped to face the brothers. "Don't worry, sons of Jadon: I would've killed her if you hadn't shown up." He ran his hands through his thick black-and-red-banded hair. "The lycan was just a more...immediate concern." He inclined his head. "But she was wise to reason the outcome...and brave to take the chance. And that is the only reason we do not wage war here tonight." He winked at Marquis. "Tomorrow, warrior; there's 316

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always tomorrow." And then he disappeared behind the thick wall of the forest.

Jocelyn covered her throat with her hands, realizing just how close she had come to dying earlier that night. "I had no other choice," she whispered. "I was already dead." And then she immediately turned to walk toward the cabin.

She was shocked when her head hit the hard resistance of what felt like a cement wall, and she immediately realized she had never been in any danger at all: Nathaniel had placed her in an invisible fortress much like Marquis had done to Braden earlier. He had constructed a barrier that was next to impossible to penetrate for the ensuing battle. She felt embarrassed. Humiliated. Yet she waited without a word to be released.

"Never...ever...for any reason," Nathaniel thundered,

"believe that one of the Dark Ones is your friend! He will be back to kill you...if for no other reason than because he let you go tonight. And I thought I told you to remain in the cabin!"

Nathaniel was too angry to speak another word. Too enraged to release her. He stared at her for a long moment, disapproval heavy in his eyes, and then he simply turned his back and walked away.

Kagen looked into the makeshift prison and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. He was smart enough not to pull a tiger by its tail, and followed Nathaniel to the cabin.

Marquis approached the barrier then, and Jocelyn slowly stepped back until she bumped into the other side. He was 317

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uncharacteristically calm. Too calm, in fact. Much too reserved.

"Every time you place yourself in danger, you jeopardize Nathaniel's life. Know this, little sister: If you risk my brother's life again, you will lose more than your vocal cords.

I will take over your actions and your thoughts until the blood moon has completely passed and Nathaniel is no longer at risk. You will be a walking puppet on my string, and no one will know the difference...not even Nathaniel. Is there anything unclear about what I am saying to you?"

Jocelyn swallowed and looked down. She didn't dare answer.

"You will not get another warning."

Like Nathaniel, Marquis simply turned his back and walked away.

Nachari sighed and approached the barrier. "I guess that leaves me, then, huh?" He flashed a soothing smile of understanding, breathtakingly handsome as always. "It's been a long night."

Jocelyn looked down, hating that her eyes were filling with tears, not wanting Nachari to see how badly Nathaniel and Marquis's reprimands had hurt her...just how lost and overwhelmed she was feeling. It was humiliating to be a grown woman treated like a child: even more humiliating to be a grown woman acting—and taking unnecessary risks with other people's lives—like a child.

Nathaniel had turned his back on her. She would never belong in this life.

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It didn't matter who Nathaniel believed she was. She wasn't anyone's true destiny, and she would never be a true member of their family. She would always be some...lesser species...that simply served a vampire's purpose.

Nachari shook his head as if he knew everything she was feeling, and then he began to carefully take apart the barrier, one layer at a time. "When I was just a fledgling, about one-hundred and fifty years old, I made a decision that I would no longer feed...I would no longer take human blood to live. I thought I would have a deeper connection with nature—you know, with the animals—if I took their blood instead." He shrugged his shoulders, smiling.

"When Marquis found out, he absolutely forbade it. So, being stubborn as I am, I pretended to continue to feed from humans while refusing any blood at all. Well, my twin, Shelby..." He stumbled over the word, his voice growing hoarse. There was an uncomfortable pause while he struggled to collect himself before continuing. "Shelby knew what I was doing, and I was getting weaker by the day. So finally, he went to Marquis and told on me."

Jocelyn's eyes grew big. She could only imagine where this was going.

Nachari shook his head in disgust as another layer of the barrier came down. "You want to talk about being made into a puppet?" He laughed. "Marquis took control of my physical body, something I was too young and inexperienced to prevent back then. He sat me on the stoop of his back porch and began calling animals from the forest, one after another...all day long."

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Nachari raised an eyebrow. "And we're not talking about nice, friendly, normal animals. I mean porcupines, skunks, rats, snakes, badgers, the kind of animals that bite you back.

He lined them up one after the other like an endless buffet, forced me to sink my teeth into them, and made me drink until I puked. Then, he refused to let me wipe my mouth, and brought on the next animal..."