Vampire's Kiss (31 page)

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Authors: Veronica Wolff

BOOK: Vampire's Kiss
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Before I could answer, he was on us. As he hissed like a spitting cat, his face transformed into a feral mask, and he flew toward us. His hands extended like claws, digging into Carden’s neck.

 

Carden brought one hand to his throat and used the other to shove me farther behind his back. He gasped, “Run, girl.”

 

I stumbled backward, nearly falling through an open doorway, and was plunged into a dim, empty room. My heart racing, I dashed in, scanning for a better weapon. Candelabra flickered on a side table. I spotted a piano, a gaming table, a settee. But nothing good—weren’t rooms like this supposed to have fireplace pokers? If only I’d ignored Ronan’s warning and carved myself a nice stake before leaving. Instead, I slid my knife from where I’d hid it up my sleeve.

 

I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could fight a vampire and win, but I also knew that if Carden died, I was dead meat, or worse. Bobbing the knife in my hand, I inched back toward
the door. Ungodly noises came from the hallway…guttural, savage noises.

 

And then the men flew through the doorway, and I skittered backward to avoid them, slamming against the arm of the sofa.

 

I’d never seen two vampires fight before, and it was epic—terrifying, magnificent. Their fangs were fully bared, gleaming in the candlelight. They clawed and spun, and flung each other through the air as though dancing some gloriously violent ballet.

 

They slashed, and bit, and hit, two wild creatures battling to the death. Jacob seemed stronger, though, with Carden taking more and more time to recover from each blow.

 

I stepped forward, gripping my weapon. I was trained. I could do this.

 

I waited until the two fell to the floor, thrashing. Jacob had Carden pinned. I edged around behind him. I clenched the knife in my hand and raised my arm.
A stake in the heart…

 

But Jacob was too fast—impossibly fast. He’d sensed me, and he was up and on me in an instant, his clawlike fingers digging into my flesh. He wrenched my arm where I’d fed Carden, and I shrieked in pain. “I smell your blood, fair one. You’ll make a pretty dessert.”

 

He leaned into me, slowly, like a lover. His eyes had dilated to solid black orbs, locking with mine, and it was impossible to look away. Baring his teeth, he let out a soft hiss and eased his mouth closer.

 

I could no longer move. I’d thought I’d experienced compulsion before, but it was nothing compared to this. Jacob had me in his grip, inching his fangs closer and closer to my
neck, but I could only stand there, waiting in horror, mesmerized by those huge black eyes that were pulling me in and down.

 

And then I felt Carden. I didn’t have to hear him or see him to know he was with me. That knowledge alone kept me sane and helped me cling to the last shreds of my consciousness. McCloud was there, and I wouldn’t surrender. For a single instant—during the span of a single heartbeat—I loved him for it.

 

He reached over me, seized Jacob’s chin and forehead, and gave a sharp twist. I heard the brittle snap of the vampire’s neck. Then, grabbing my knife where it’d fallen, he plunged it into Jacob’s chest.

 

He stood and took my hand. “We run. Now.”

 

I let him pull me to the door. “Is he dead?”

 

He looked up and down, scanning the hall. “He’s four times my age. It’ll take more than that.”

 

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

 

Looking down, he gave me a cockeyed smile and mimicked the words I’d spoken earlier. “You’re welcome.”

 

He snatched my hand and laced his fingers tightly with mine, and we ran, navigating the warren of dark passages. We passed serving women and male attendants, but no vampires. I hoped they were too busy with Jacob’s summit to be wandering the halls.

 

We reached a far wing, and the sound of voices stopped us short. He gestured for me to keep quiet as he inched toward a cracked doorway. I strained, picking up the sound of muted conversation on the other side. And then a tittering laugh trilled through the air.

 

My eyes went wide. “Is that a
girl
?”

 

He touched a finger to my lips. “Shush.”

 

He’d touched me without thought, as if he had a right to. And it sure shut me up, all right.

 

“Wait here,” he whispered, and slipped inside. I held my breath, listening to grunts and scuffling, until McCloud emerged again with an armful of clothes.

 

I let myself exhale, startling when he pulled me into the room with him. A couple pairs of feet poked out from behind the sofa, bodies tucked between the furniture and the fireplace. I drew closer for a look and grimaced. He’d killed them without mussing their clothes.

 

“I tried to hide them a bit so you wouldn’t have to see.”

 

I turned my back on the sight. Something about seeing the woman in her white cotton slip made the death all the more grisly. It made me angry—angry at the situation, and angry at him, too. “She was probably innocent, you know.”

 

He put his finger beneath my chin, his expression soft, and tipped my face to his. “Never forget. Nobody who finds himself on this island is ever completely innocent.”

 

I opened my mouth to protest, but in my heart I knew he spoke the truth.

 

“We’ve wasted too much time.” He piled a mound of dark purple satin into my hands. “New plan, new disguise.”

 

He went to the far side of the room and turned around to give me some privacy. “If we make it out, there’s a wee stream that runs along the eastern edge of the grounds. We can escape that way.”

 

“You want me to cross a stream in a dress?”

 

“No, I want you to
dance
in a dress. Though, if we’re lucky,
it won’t come to that.” Carden stripped off his soiled shirt, revealing a glistening—and very naked—back.

 

I turned abruptly, my cheeks burning. “Sorry.”

 

“So shy?” He chuckled. “No apology needed, I assure you. Just dress yourself before they find us.”

 

The gown was an old-fashioned thing, reaching to the ground, but having an Empire waist, it looked easy to slip on without help. Still, I was skeptical. “Wouldn’t wearing a couple of those brown monks’ robes be better?”

 

“Jacob likes a party. At the end of every summit, he hosts a dance to rival the grandest of cotillions.”

 

“What is it with you vampires and dancing?” I was changing as quickly as I could, and my cheeks burnt hotter as I worried that he might see me in my underwear. Finally, I was wriggling into the dress and smoothing it into place. But when I turned, he was still standing with his back to me, waiting patiently.

 

“We vampires and dancing?” he asked.

 

He was acting the gentleman, which was probably what guys did back in the eighteenth century. I studied him. In his stolen waistcoat, he looked the part. The dress clothes made his shoulders seem broader, and though the pants were too short, all in all, I thought he’d pass in the candlelight. “Never mind,” I told him. “You can turn around now.”

 

He did, and it took my breath away. He’d combed his fingers through his hair, and it framed a striking face. But Carden wasn’t handsome in a pretty-boy sort of way—he was more rugged than that. He was a
man
.

 

I shook my head. This silly girl crap was just the bond talking, not me.

 

He walked right up to me, coming nearly chest to chest. “You’re a vision, Acari Annelise Drew.” When I didn’t answer, he tilted his head. “Is aught the matter?”

 

“Aught’s fine,” I said, turning from him. “Let’s blow this cookie stand.”

 

His hand on my shoulder stopped me. I looked up just as he draped a purple veil over my head. “As much as I enjoy looking at that pretty yellow hair, you’ll need this, too.”

 

Normally I hated dresses, but the get-up was so foreign that it made me feel safer, and we walked briskly toward the east wing, Carden peeking into random rooms as we went. “It’s no good,” he said finally. “The only room with a balcony is the ballroom. So that’s where we’re going.”

 

I frowned. “Can’t we just, you know, sneak out the front door?”

 

“Too many guards posted there. Jacob will recover and raise the alarm soon, if he hasn’t already. There’s only one way out.” He took my hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Fancy a dance?”

 
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

 

H
e put a hand at my back and swept me toward the sound of chatter, music, and clinking glasses, and in the torch-lit hallway, scurrying along in my low-cut gown and veil, I really did for a moment feel like a woman from another time.

As we drew closer, though, I got more nervous. Carden sensed it and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Courage, little Acari. Isn’t this what you’ve trained for?”

 

He caught my eye and gave me a jaunty smile, as though to say,
I dare you
. His fangs flashed white in the shadows.

 

Trained for this?
No way.
All the dance classes in the world wouldn’t have prepared me for a bond with an eighteenth-century vampire. But I nodded anyway, and with a deep breath, let him glide me into the ballroom.

 

There were vampires all around, and my heart kicked alive, hammering against my chest. I was prey, and these men around
me were predators. Instinct told me to flee, but Carden’s firm hand on my back kept me in place. I pasted a calm, detached expression on my face.

 

“Very nice,” he said, and I glanced up to find his gaze intent on me.

 

I nodded, but I was distracted and darted my eyes away, devouring everything in the room. It was like glimpsing a movie set. The orchestra was playing a Viennese waltz, and couples swarmed the dance floor, the women decked out in elaborate period garb. “Who are
they
?”

 

“Feeders,” he said stiffly.

 

Only then did I notice how many of the females had scarves tied in elaborate knots around their necks. I shuddered. My guess was, they were concealing more than hickeys.

 

He took my hand and spun me close, and my body thumped into his as he leapt into a vigorous waltz. “Time for us to leave.”

 

I shuffled my feet to catch his pace, feeling dread that at any moment he’d realize what an abysmal dancer I was. “You don’t mess around.”

 

“No need to dally.” He glided me in effortless circles across the floor. I’d thought I couldn’t dance, but I’d thought wrong. Carden knew how to
move
, and it made dancing a breeze. “The sooner we make it over
there
the better.” He tipped his chin toward the far wall and the thick swaths of velvet drapes that I assumed marked the balcony doors.

 

I nodded. As a dancer, he was a strong lead—I didn’t even need to keep count—and for once in my life I was happy to follow. “You’ve done this before,” I said, finding myself a little breathless.

 

He gave a noncommittal grunt, intent on cutting a diagonal path across the crowd, and we reached the far wall in a matter of minutes. Putting an arm around me, he shot a quick glance around, then ducked us behind the curtain. I was certain we simply looked like a couple sneaking out for a romantic tryst.

 

The night air was brisk, and it felt delicious on my damp brow. He made a beeline for the stone parapet and vaulted over and down. I hiked up my dress, quick on his heels. I didn’t want him to do anything that’d embarrass me, like try to catch me or anything.

 

It was a low drop. I landed in a crouch and heard the crackle of a tearing seam as I bounded into a run. We made quick progress across the grounds, through a network of squat, stone buildings, and Carden pointed out dormitories, a bakehouse, even an abandoned infirmary. A weird humming cut through the air, and it was getting louder the closer we got to what looked like a chapel.

 

I slowed my pace. “What’s that noise?”

 

“They still keep the Lauds of the Dead.” Seeing my confusion, he clarified. “Some of the vampires keep vigil through the night, chanting for the souls of the dead.”

 

“The dead,” I repeated. “Which is…
them
?”

 

He nodded. “They’re a morbid bunch.”

 

“Creepy.”

 

I strained to listen. It was a deep, vibrant hum that would’ve sounded beautiful were it not so disturbing. “So those are monks chanting?”

 

“Make no mistake,” he said. “Those are
vampires
chanting. Old habits die hard.”

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