Eventide: The Dark Ink Chronicles (3 page)

The biggest vampiric threat to Savannah and the Gullah had been Victorian and Valerian Arcos. They raided the city and countryside in the eighteenth century. All those who supposedly died from yellow fever
in Savannah’s history? It wasn’t the fever that took them all. But you won’t find that in any book.

Vic was more or less forced on this rampage by his overbearing brother. But once they were entombed, the city fell quiet. Peaceful. Until they were released. Seems like a long, long time ago. Now I’m in the middle of it all. The same vampire who ravaged the city centuries ago wants my ass.

I’d be a liar if I said Valerian Arcos didn’t scare me. He does. Truly.

The back of my legs and back are sweaty atop the down comforter, and quills are poking through the material and sticking into my skin. I wish I could get a small breath of fresh air. I don’t know how long we’ve been driving, but I’ve reached my limit. With the flat of my Vans, I start kicking the side of the Jag’s trunk interior. I kick for maybe five minutes before the car comes to a stop. Victorian’s door opens and closes; the trunk pops. The scents of rubber tires and motor oil fill the cool air. I look around. We’re in a large underground area—one that echoes. Concrete walls and pillars fill my vision. Vehicles are sparsely parked. There’s an exit sign with an arrow pointing to the right a few yards away. It hits me. “Why are we in a parking garage?”

“Are you all right?” he asks, ignoring my question
and pushing my long choppy bangs from my face. He traces my sooty angel wing ink on my cheek. Concern is etched in his face.

“You mean besides not having any air to breathe and being hot as hell? Not to mention I’ve had to pee for the last hour. Sure. I’m great, Vic.” I glower at him. “Get me out of here.”

The corner of Victorian’s mouth lifts in a slight grin, which quickly disappears. His face hardens; he glances around. “We’ve got to hurry.” Easily, he lifts me from the trunk and sets me on my feet. “Are you going to make me carry you again?” he asks.

“Nope,” I say. “But as soon as we get to where we’re going, you’re telling me everything.”

He nods, and produces a pair of wire cutters from his pocket. In a few quick snaps, my ankles and wrists are free.

“Let’s go,” he says, slamming the trunk and grasping my elbow. He leads me through the parking garage that is slightly lit and mostly empty. A sign catches my eye:
WELCOME TO HARTFIELD-JACKSON ATLANTA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
. My stomach plummets. “Vic, where are you taking me?” He’s putting me on a plane? To where? I don’t have a good feeling about this. Not at all. And I have to pee. Bad. “Vic. Bathroom?”

Again, he is silent. But we walk toward the stairs,
and thankfully, a set of restrooms are there. “Make it fast, Riley,” Vic says. “And please don’t try to run.”

The bathroom is empty. I duck into a stall and make hasty business out of girly business. Flushing the toilet with my foot, because public bathrooms are just the grossest of gross, I step to the sink and turn the water on.

“Riley, come on,” Victorian says. Impatience edges his voice.

“Give me a sec, okay?” I answer. I suds my hands and rinse. The paper towel dispenser is empty, so I dry my hands on my shirt and head out. Victorian is staring at me. “See? No running,” I say. Silently, he takes me by the elbow and leads me onward.

We make it to the elevator, and Victorian pulls me inside. I know he’s using all of his suggestion to keep me restrained because I try to break free. This time, I can’t. He presses the button for the main floor. Just as the doors begin to slide together, I catch a scent. A familiar scent. I can hardly believe it. Eli’s here.

Suddenly a hand appears in the narrow divide between the doors, and with my next breath I am literally snatched out of the elevator by my arm and flung to the ground. I land with a grunt on the concrete floor of the parking garage, ten, twelve feet away, on my side. Eli’s brother, Séraphin—Phin for short—is there when I
stand. Confusion and surprise squeeze my insides. He helps me up. Rather, he yanks me up.

“Are you okay?” he asks. His hands are everywhere, checking me for injury. As I knock him away, my eyes search for Eli. The moment I see him, I leap for the elevator.

“Riley, stop!” Phin yells, as he makes a grab for me but misses.

I don’t listen. I can’t listen. Because I know Eli.

He’ll kill Victorian.

Not only does Vic represent a heinous order of vampires from Romania, he is also in love with me, and Eli knows it. Bad combination, despite the fact that he isn’t an evil bloodsucker and I definitely don’t return the passion. Vic and I do share a connection of sorts, but it’s not love on my part. Eli doesn’t care. In his eyes, Victorian needs to die. Especially since Vic’s DNA is now bound with mine. To Eli, Victorian Arcos is a deadly threat, through and through. I don’t blame Eli. But I have to defend Vic.

Just as I hurl myself at the elevator, Eli and Victorian fall out of it. In a mass of growls, grunts, Eli’s French expletives, and Victorian’s Romanian curses, we all hit the ground. Eli morphs into his vampiric state—fangs dropped, face contorted, eyes white with a pinpoint scarlet pupil. It’s a frightening sight. Victorian’s appearance also changes; even now, it’s unlike anything I’ve
seen. His skin is ashen, almost…dead looking. Not just white. His eyes are bloodred, his fangs long and jagged. With one hand, Eli shoves me away and I hit the ground again. With a violent curse, I jump up, but Eli and Victorian are already thirty feet away. They’re tangled, snarling, throwing one another to the ground. I run as Phin tries to grab me. Just as I reach them, I stop. With one hand around Victorian’s throat, Eli takes his other hand and tries to fling me again. I slap his hand away.

“Eli! Stop it!” I yell, and throw myself between them. It’s like being in the middle of a pair of fighting pit bulls. “Now!”

“Move, Riley,” Eli growls, his voice inhuman, nearly inaudible. He once more tries to hurl me.

I cling to Victorian, but my eyes are fastened onto Eli’s. “No, damn it! Stop and listen to me!”

“Phin!” Eli shouts. “Get her the fuck out of here!”

With as much emotion as I can summon, I hold Eli’s gaze. “Please, Eli. Don’t kill him.” I’m not used to begging, and it doesn’t sit well with me. As a matter of fact, it sort of sounds stupid. But in this, I have no choice. “Please.”

Phin’s hand is on my shoulder, and he pulls. I resist.

Eli’s inhuman white glare freezes onto mine. “Why?” he asks, his voice deadly smooth, even, quiet. I can tell he is confused—hurt. Angry is a given. I don’t blame him.

Behind me, Victorian’s body shudders, but I keep my eyes trained on Eli’s. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “It…just doesn’t feel right.”

Eli’s sharp gaze flicks to Victorian. It’s filled with hate. “Doesn’t feel right, Riley? He abducted you.” His grip tightens on Victorian’s throat. “He almost killed you.”

Yeah, I already know all that. It doesn’t matter. “He isn’t the monster his brother is,” I say. “Please. Trust me.”

Eli literally shakes with rage. The scarlet pupils widen, like a cat’s eyes adjusting to darkness. He knows Victorian’s brother wants me dead. Valerian is, in every sense of the word, a monster. There’s no telling how many he has either killed or turned. He’s the most feared of predators. A serial killer who cannot die. At least, not easily. And he’s got a personal grudge against me. Why, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m the one who got away. I beat him, and he hates that. Maybe because his own brother cares for me. But I know Victorian isn’t like Valerian. And I don’t want him dead.

“Eligius,” I say calmly, and he looks at me. “Move.”

Pure white eyes stare at me in silent debate for what seems forever. Without looking at Victorian, he manages to say, “Not until he tells me what the
fuck
is going on.”

Moving from between them, I turn to Victorian. Bloodred eyes seek mine. I keep my hand on Eli’s arm
for support and give Victorian a nod. My stomach churns with anticipation.

Victorian simply breathes for several seconds, head bowed, collecting himself. His shoulders, broad but slim, rise and fall with air I’m certain does not circulate within his lungs. When he lifts his head, the only remnants of his vampiric morphing are his eyes. They remain crimson and fixed on me. “Riley has too much of my brother’s strigoi DNA. It’s…changing her.” He glances at Eli. “Changing her in ways even her dark brethren cannot cure.” His Romanian accent is heavier at times, like now. “She is beginning to crave. I’ve seen it.” His voice lowers. “She will kill.”

“I will what?” I ask, shocked, staring back at Vic. “Are you friggin’ crazy?”

“Bullshit,” Phin says, and his angry voice echoes off the concrete walls of the parking garage. “She went through weeks of cleansing.”

“You underestimate the power of a strigoi,” Victorian replies.

“Fuck you,” Phin returns.

“We underestimate nothing,” Eli says quietly, deadly. Threatening. “You’re wrong, Arcos.”

“She broke my power of suggestion,” Victorian argues, flashing me a glimpse. “Started growling, convulsing.” He glances at me, then to Eli. “Nearly jumped
from my car going eighty-five. I had to pull over and restrain her physically, and even then she briefly overpowered me. I had to chase her down as she tried to escape.”

“So where were you taking her?” Phin asks. His voice does not sound like his own; he is getting impatient. Out of character for Séraphin Dupré.

Then again, the flashes I’d had while running through the woods behind the rest stop had been out of character for me. Those weird cravings. What the hell was that? I convince myself it was nothing more than a residual effect from the trauma at Tunnel 9.

“Where?” Eli states. His patience is going fast, too.

Victorian’s unholy gaze settles on mine. “To my family home in Kudzsir in Romania. To my father.”

I blink, and Eli’s body flies in front of me. By the time my vision finds them, Eli has Victorian crushed against a wall. “So you can turn her? Have her for yourself?”

“Eli!” I yell.

With his face close to Victorian’s, Eli growls, “I’ll fucking tear your limbs from your body and burn them myself before I let that happen. And I’ll start with your goddamn head.”

“No!” I run now, because Eli’s looking like he’s about to dismember Victorian right where they stand. Someone grabs my arm and I jerk to a jolting halt. I turn and glare at Phin. “You’d better turn me loose.”

Phin just looks at me. Tightens his grip.

Just then, a beam of light arcs over the gray concrete walls of the garage; an SUV pulls in.

“Eli, let’s go,” I plead. “Now. Just forget about this. I’m all right. I’m with you.”

At first, he ignores me—nothing new there. Then he flings Victorian across the parking lot, storms toward me and grabs my hand without breaking stride. He doesn’t say a word. Electricity seems to sizzle around him. If anger causes that, he’s got an aura of it.

Victorian has more balls than I credit him for. In the blink of an eye, he is standing directly in Eli’s path. “Know this, Eligius Dupré. Only a powerful strigoi like my father can cast out the evil growing inside Riley. And you will soon see—it is definitely there. You’ll not like it, I promise you that.”

Eli stares at Victorian for a split second, then takes his hand and shoves him out of the way. We continue on through the parking garage. I turn and watch Victorian.

“You will soon see,” he says, standing in place. He speaks to Eli, but his eyes are on me. “You’ll bring her back to me. I will be here, waiting.”

We round a corner, and Victorian is no longer in sight. I find it strange to think of how Victorian, a vampire himself, considers vampirism evil. Maybe he dislikes what he is as much as the Duprés do. He has a
good heart, despite the fact that it no longer resides in his body.

We reach Phin’s black Ford F-150 in tense silence. In the distance, I hear a door slam and an engine start up. I guess it’s Victorian’s Jag. Phin hits the lock release button on his keychain and Eli opens my door. As I put my foot on the side step to climb in, he stops me.

With both hands on my face, he kisses me—long, ungentle, desperate. I breathe in his scent and return the kiss. Unlike most members of the undead, Eli’s lips aren’t icy cold, but lukewarm, full and sensual as they devour mine. Then, he pulls back. With startling blue eyes, he inspects me from head to toe. At my exposed thigh he lingers, lowers his hand, and grazes a large scrape.

“Must’ve gotten that at the rest area,” I say, and although his features are cast in shadow, I know he studies me with ferocious intensity.

“Let’s go home,” he says, and climbs in beside me. No smile. Eli is still angry.

Phin starts up the truck and exits the parking garage. It’s not until we hit Peachtree Street that I realize Victorian and I had made it all the way to Atlanta.

According to the digital clock in Phin’s truck, it’s close to four a.m. Traffic is nonexistent as we weave through the tall buildings and intertwining interstate dissections of downtown and make our way back to
Savannah. Before we hit the interstate, Phin pulls into a BP and fuels up. I run inside and grab some drinks and a bag of Chic-O-Stix. Eli’s gaze is locked onto me the entire time. We settle in for the drive home.

Even with Eli’s body crowding mine in the cab of Phin’s truck, his hand protectively on my thigh, one thought pounds through my brain; one thing needles me and doesn’t let go.

Am I truly turning evil? Am I going to kill?

Will I crave blood?

Goddamn, I hope to hell not.

I’m sleepy again—why, I don’t know, but I feel like I haven’t slept in days. I close my eyes, and slumber soon takes over.