Blood Forever (11 page)

“I could lose control and drain you dry,” Magnus points out.

Touché. “Well,” I say, pushing all doubts from my head. “I trust you. You’re going to be my blood mate, after all. Just take what you need and leave me a little for the ride home and we’ll be all set.”

He chuckles softly. “All right,” he says. “If you’re sure…”

“Positive.”

I watch as, hands trembling, he carefully draws my wrist to his mouth, soft lips brushing against my delicate flesh and causing an involuntary shiver. I swallow hard, bracing myself for the next part. The part that isn’t so soft and sweet.

“You did watch the instructional video after I left, right?” I can’t help but ask. “And you practiced on the dummy?”

I can feel his smile against my skin. “Don’t worry. I’m fully licensed to bite,” he quips, sending chills down my spine as his mouth moves against my skin. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

“Well then, let’s get this show on the road.” Before I lose my nerve.

And so he does. And, as his fangs sink down, breaking the skin and piercing my veins, instead of pain, I feel only pleasure. A warm, sweeping sensation like an ocean wave, washing over me, engulfing me entirely. And as the blood flows from me to him, I feel our minds dancing with one another, my essence flowing into him, giving him new life and new power. It’s an exhilarating feeling, to say the least. So beautiful, I can’t help but wonder why we never did this before. It could have brought us so close, especially on those days we felt so apart.

But just as I’m surrendering to the sensation, Magnus rips his mouth away, his face clouded with confusion. As he stares at me, as if I’m some sort of ghost, I realize I probably shouldn’t have been thinking about our shared past while our minds were so connected. Could he hear my thoughts over the rush of blood? Or perhaps sense the overwhelming love and affection I feel for him—a practical stranger in his mind?

“Who
are
you?” he breathes, capturing my eyes in his own, searching deep, as if trying to catch a glimpse of my soul. The amazement in his face, the rapture mixed with bewilderment, consumes me and it’s all I can do not to break down then and there. To allow the dam to burst and tell him everything, hoping he’ll believe me and not run screaming into the night. (Well, to the other side of the cell, in this case.)

But I force myself to hold back, knowing it’s not the right time. Not the right place. And instead, I reach out to brush a lock of hair from his eyes with tender fingers.

“I’m just me,” I say simply, offering him a small smile. “No one special.”

“On the contrary,” he says, leaning back down to take another sip. “I think you’re quite special indeed. More special,” he adds, before sliding his fangs back into my wound, “than I ever could have realized.”

I
glance at my watch for what seems the thousandth time as I pace back and forth across my bedroom floor. Mom’s already been up here twice to politely (then not-so-politely) ask me to stop the clomping of feet, claiming it sounds like an earthquake downstairs and is drowning out her
Pride and Prejudice
DVD. (As if she doesn’t already know the whole thing by heart!)

If only she knew the true reason for my frantic feet. She’d definitely put Colin Firth on pause. Sunny’s not back yet. And all the texts I’ve sent have gone unanswered. I even tried to call, but her phone went straight to voice mail. At first I just figured she had her ringer off, staying in stealth mode. But now, too much time has passed and I’m worried she might be in trouble.

If only they’d invited me to come along. But no, they took off from Club Fang without letting me know, heading straight
to Slayer Inc. Manor all by themselves. Sure, I understand why Sunny did it; the girl is always trying to prove she’s just as capable as me when it comes to these things. But still! In this case, I could have definitely helped. I’m the slayer. I know Slayer Inc. Manor inside and out. I could have made sure they got what they needed and got back out with ease.

But no. All I get is a text, asking for codes and maps. Which I sent, of course. But maybe I should have taken the initiative to drive out there myself and meet up with them. That way they’d be forced to accept my help.

I glance at my watch again. Something must have happened. There’s no way she’d still be wandering the halls unless something went awry. Maybe she typed in the alarm code wrong. Or maybe someone was there after hours, burning the midnight oil, and discovered the intruders. A billion possibilities whirl through my brain on what could have happened to my sister in that house.

I can’t take it any longer. I head downstairs and tell Mom I’m running out to the library. Best-case scenario, everything’s fine and I’ve wasted a gallon of gas driving out there. No big deal. At least I’ll feel like I’m doing something. And if, by chance, they are in some sort of trouble? Well I’m more than ready to stage a rescue.

I leave the radio off as I drive down the dark, windy New Hampshire roads, heading toward the remote manor. Rain starts to fall and fog laps at my windshield. It’s a miracle I don’t drive off the road as I navigate the turns with limited vision.
This is just the kind of weather that horror movies are made of, and the feeling of dread creeps into my bones.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, I turn the corner onto the dead-end street where the manor resides. My headlights flash on a dark, abandoned BMW on the side of the road and my heart starts thudding in my chest. I park behind it, then leap out, shining my flashlight at the license plate. Sure enough, it’s Magnus’s. He and Sunny are still here. This does not bode well.

I leave the cars behind and head into the woods. The fog is as thick as pea soup and the rain pitter-patters onto the leaves above, creating an eerie soundtrack to my journey. I keep my flashlight low, so as not to cause attention to myself, and attempt to navigate over the fallen logs and twisty roots without breaking my ankle.

As I reach the edge of the mansion’s side lawn, I slip behind a mammoth oak tree, hoping to stay hidden as I scout out the scene. The old Victorian manor that I used to think looked so cool now looks like a haunted house. As lightning flashes across the sky, followed by booming thunder, I’m beginning to wonder if I should have enlisted some backup for my rescue. Or, at the very least, let someone know where I was going. I try to remind myself that this is just the business office of my employer, a place I’ve frequented dozens of times. But for some reason the sentiment doesn’t make me feel much better.

I ready myself to retreat to the woods, to circle the perimeter until I reach the back of the manor, where I have the best chance
to break in without being seen. But before I can make a move, a hand clamps over my mouth.

I try to scream, but the gloved hand allows only a few squeaks to escape from my mouth. I try to bite down but get only a mouthful of thick leather. Strong arms wrap around my waist and drag me, kicking and flailing, back into the woods. I lose my grip on my flashlight and a moment later, I find myself thrown unceremoniously down onto the dirt.

I look up wildly into the darkness, trying to focus on the dark figure hovering above me, silhouetted in the fog. A Slayer Inc. guard? Bertha the Vampire Slayer herself?

No. My eyes widen in recognition. Could it be…?

“You!” Jareth cries. Even in the darkness I can see that his face is full of horrified recognition. “Which one are you?”

“The one you probably don’t want to see,” I mutter, rising to my feet and brushing the mud off my back. I can’t decide if I’m excited to see him or furious that he would manhandle me like that.

“The girl from Club Fang,” he concludes. “The one who stepped on my feet.”

“To be fair, I was pushed, I’ll have you know,” I say, deciding to lean toward furious. After all, it’s doubtful he’s going to be anything but in the way when it comes to my rescue attempt.

“Are you stalking me or something? Didn’t I make it clear that I wanted nothing to—”

“Nothing to do with me,” I finish grumpily. “Yes, you made it clear as crystal. And no, don’t flatter yourself about the
stalking thing.” I can’t believe I ever fell for the guy, the way he used to act. Like he’s God’s gift to vampires or something. “If you must know, I’m here to rescue my sister. She and your idiot little pal Magnus tried to break into this place to find proof that Slayer Inc. is planning to slay Lucifent. All because a certain vampire general wouldn’t take what my sister had to say at face value.”

Jareth throws up his hands in disgust. “I knew it.” He swears under his breath. “Those fools. They have no idea what they’re up against.” He paces the clearing like a caged tiger. Which, I have to admit, is kind of hot. Not that I’m thinking about hotness when I’m on a mission to save my sister or anything.

“Well, they went in hours ago and their car is still parked on the side of the road,” I inform him. Maybe there is a way we can work together. “Do you think they’re still inside?”

“I know they are,” Jareth confirms. “At least Magnus. His phone has a tracking device implanted in it,” he explains. “When he disappeared from Club Fang earlier, I activated it to track him down. He’s definitely in the vicinity.”

His words confirm my fears. “This is not good,” I mumble. “It’s been too long. I’m worried something must have happened to them.”

“Well, don’t be,” Jareth replies curtly. “I’m going to go in and investigate.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a beige business card with gold script. “Text me in an hour and I’ll let you know what I’ve found.”

I raise an eyebrow, glancing at the card, then up at him.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask. “I am so not going to go home and wait, if that’s what you’re implying. She’s my sister. And if she’s in trouble, I’m going to help her.”

Jareth snorts. “You?” he says, his voice full of contempt. “You and what army?”

“I’m an army of one, baby!” I declare, puffing out my chest. Sure, I may not be a vampire anymore. Or even an official slayer. But I’m Rayne McDonald and that makes me kick-ass in and of itself.

“I’m so sure,” he replies, his voice rich with derision. “But may I suggest you leave your bravado at the door for a moment? Trust me, I’m the Blood Coven general and I’ve been around the block more than a few times. There is not a chance in hell a mere mortal would ever be able to successfully break into a highly secured Slayer Inc. administration building.”

“Even if the mortal in question had all of the Slayer Inc. security passwords memorized?” I ask, with a slight smile of defiance. “Do you think maybe she’d have a chance in hell then?”

Jareth raises an eyebrow. “And how, may I ask, would someone like you come across something like that?”

“No, you may not. Ask, that is,” I shoot back. “You may either admit you need my help or go ahead and botch the whole operation yourself.”

Jareth lips pucker with annoyance. I can tell it’s going to kill him to acknowledge that I may be even the tiniest bit useful in this endeavor.

“Come on,” I urge, dropping my sarcastic tone. “Swallow that pride. It’s your friend and fellow coven member’s life we’re
talking about here. You need to suck it up—pardon the pun—and accept all the help you can get, and you know it.”

Jareth stubs the toe of his boot against a tree stump, and at first I don’t think he’s going to answer. Then he sighs. “Very well,” he concludes. “You may accompany me if you wish.”

“Gee, thanks. So very kind of you to let me tag along.”

“Just don’t get in the way.”

“How about
you
don’t get in
my
way?” I know I’m being obstinate. But seriously, the guy needs to be knocked down a peg or ten.

Jareth surprises me with a grudging nod, then turns and starts heading through the woods again, walking so fast I have to sprint to catch up. He expertly skirts the manor’s lawn, avoiding any spotlights, until we’ve reached the back door. He studies it for a moment, taking in the massive lock attached to the remote control panel to the side. Then he turns to me with an expectant look.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you need my mere mortal assistance already?” I ask sweetly.

“I don’t need it,” he clarifies, his voice laced with bitterness. “It just seems unnecessary to go through all the trouble of breaking down a door if you can simply open it with your secret password.”

“Now you’re thinking,” I reply with a grin. “Stand back, vampire, and watch some mortal magic.” I approach the control panel, opening the alarm box and pressing the secret code I learned from my Slayer Inc. training. Thank goodness I had been paying attention when Teifert drilled those numbers into
my head back in the day. A moment later, the box beeps twice and all three LED lights go green.

I turn to Jareth triumphantly. “Would you care to bust in the door now, m’lord, utilizing your magnificent vampire strength?”

The corner of Jareth’s lip twitches. “So there
is
something you can’t do.”

“Not really. I just wanted to make sure you still felt useful and relevant.”

The vampire groans, then reaches out to wrap his hand around the doorknob. The door swings open easily. “All right! Way to go!” I cry in my most encouraging tone, patting him on the back. “Rock on with your bad vampire self, you!”

“Do you mind lowering your voice?” the vampire hisses. “We are trying to be stealthy here, are we not?”

“Oh. Right. Good point.” I had been so enjoying teasing him that I almost forgot we’re still in dangerous territory and all. “Sorry. Let’s do this.”

We step through the door and into the dark hallway at the back of the manor. I bite on my lower lip, assessing the scene, trying to remember the best way to get to the stairs, leading to the dungeon below. If Magnus and Sunny were caught, that’s probably where they’d be taken. Unless Bertha or another slayer got too eager and—

Jareth’s back pocket breaks out into a My Chemical Romance ballad.

“Holy super-stealth, Batman,” I note dryly.

The vampire fumbles with the phone. At first I assume to
silence it. But then, to my surprise, he steps back out the door and puts the receiver to his ear.