Читать книгу Blood Ties Book Three: Ashes To Ashes - Jennifer Armintrout, Jennifer Armintrout - Страница 12

Max woke at the sound of Bella’s scream.

He’d been curled up at the end of her bed like a dog— he’d hoped in her post-possession panic she wouldn’t notice—where he’d fallen asleep watching over her.

There was no time to berate himself for napping on the job. Bella clawed at the blankets, then her clothing, shrieking in utter panic.

Grasping her shoulders, he called her name, shaking her lightly. “You’re okay, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

Her pupils changed size as she tried to focus. Frowning, she pushed back the hair that had escaped from her long braid. “I know. That is why I was screaming.”

The fact she could make a wisecrack bolstered his faith that she would be all right. At least, for now. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”

“That is what I was going for.” Her voice broke a little, as though she might cry. Of course, she didn’t. Max was reasonably sure werewolves were born without tear ducts. Or hearts.

“Can I have a glass of water?” Her voice was hoarse, probably from screaming. She’d always sounded like that, after they’d—

He didn’t just force the thought aside. He clubbed it unconscious, threw it into a crawl space and walled it up alive.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the bedside table— he’d come prepared—and twisted the top off before handing it to her. Partly to see the look of annoyance on her face when she realized he thought her weak and incapable of caring for herself, partly because he took bizarre satisfaction in caring for her. He waited until she’d gulped down half the water before asking, “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I am fine. I am sore all over for some reason, but I am fine.”

“Well, after you blacked out, we all took turns kicking the shit out of you.” He smiled weakly. “Do you remember what happened?”

She shook her head vehemently, then winced and rubbed her neck. “The last thing I remember, I was looking into my scrying bowl, and I was starting to get a picture. Then I woke up here. I had the most terrible dream.”

“Do you remember what it was about?” He briefly considered grabbing a pen and paper, but decided that might seem insensitive. Not that he would normally treat her with perfect sensitivity, but she’d had a rough ordeal. She deserved at least a day to rest before the interrogating began.

When her gaze met his, her eyes held a hint of hopelessness. “I saw a man. He had white hair…. And the Oracle. She was there, feeding off of his blood. And she was becoming strong from it. I do not know why it was so disturbing, it just was.”

“The Soul Eater.” He shook his head. “When you blacked out, the Oracle…she took over your body.”

“What?” Bella shrieked, her face pale.

He laid a hand on her knee to calm her. Even through the blankets and her clothing, he imagined her skin searing his. “Don’t be freaked. She didn’t make you go crazy or kill anyone, like the Soul Eater did to Nathan. She used you to speak to us. Basically, she just popped in to announce her presence.”

Bella’s brow furrowed. “I knew that.”

“Well, then you weren’t as bad off as we thought,” he stated, for lack of anything better to say. He could have murmured, “Tomorrow is another day,” or “Every cloud has a silver lining.” That would have been just as brilliant.

“Somehow, I knew that.” She started to shake, her eyes wide. “How did I know that?”

“It probably leaked into your subconscious. I mean, she could have left, like, psychic residue….”

Bella quirked her eyebrow. “Residue?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not hip to the whole mental communication scene.” He tossed his hands up.

“You are a vampire. What about the blood tie? That does still happen, does it not?”

You have no idea. Everywhere Max looked—at Marcus’s bed, Marcus’s chairs, Marcus’s obscenely expensive rugs— all he saw was a hole where his sire should have been.

Of course, he couldn’t expect a werewolf to be sympathetic with that. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. “She is on her way to meet the Soul Eater.”

Max frowned. “We assumed that—”

“She is on a boat. It is a cargo ship of some kind, headed for…Boston.” Bella shook her head. “Why would she give you that kind of information?”

He decided to ignore the chills racing up his spine for a moment. “She didn’t.”

They stared at each other for a long minute. Vaguely, he noted the ticking of the clock in the corner, and the click that registered it was about to chime. When it sounded, they both jumped.

“How did I—”

He cut her off. “I don’t know. Do you know anything else?”

“Many things.” She trembled openly now, and a tear slid down her cheek. “She killed a sailor sent to check on something in the hold. Hold. That is not a word I would use.”

“It doesn’t come up in a lot of my conversations, either. ” He brought his clasped hands to his mouth. “Maybe it’s a fluke.”

“Fluke? I have her memories in my head. You think that is a fluke?” Bella moved as if to get out of bed, and Max put his arm out to stop her.

“You’ve had a bad night. Just take it easy.” He tucked the blankets in around her legs.

“Take it easy?” she screamed, kicking the covers back. “Do not tell me this! I have been used as a puppet!”

“Look, there’s no reason to panic. At least, not yet. She didn’t have enough power to continue inhabiting you.”

Bella covered her face with her hands. “Why me? I am not one of you. Why did she not seek one of her kind?”

“I don’t know.” He’d wondered the same thing. More specifically, he’d wondered why it had to be Bella instead of himself. He would have gladly changed places.

She tried again to get out of bed, but her arms shook, not up to the task. She fell back on the bed with a startled cry, as if pain and muscle fatigue were things she’d never experienced.

He moved to help her, repeating, “Take it easy. You really took a beating tonight.”

“A beating?” She snorted. “I am strong. Nothing the Oracle could do to me would matter.”

“You were suspended five feet off the ground and she dropped you. And I’m sure your ribs hurt after the CPR.”

Smooth, Max.

“CPR?” She frowned.

Max rolled his eyes. “Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. You kind of…died.”

“Died?” She bolted upright.

“Just for a second!” He held out his hands, prepared to stop her if she tried get up again. “Minutes at most. Carrie brought you right back.”

Bella raised her fist as though to strike him. He braced himself, so he wouldn’t flinch when she hit him.

But she didn’t. She broke into sobs.

Max, having long ago dismissed the idea that werewolves, Bella in particular, had feelings, had no clue how to deal with the situation. In his mind, female tears were like acid, and he had never willingly wetted himself with that.

Still, Bella was usually so unshakable, so collected, so stone cold…. It killed him to know something could bother her so much.

“Hey, don’t cry.” He reached to put his arms around her, painfully aware of how awkward he felt. When she didn’t lash out at him or drive a stake through his heart for trying to help, he gave her a hug and a brotherly pat.

It didn’t surprise him at all that his gesture didn’t help.

“I hurt so much,” she sobbed, her words almost incomprehensible, given her tears and her accent. “It hurts to cry and I cannot stop.”

“Just…you know, get it out.” He rubbed her back gently. Physical contact had always distracted him from his troubles. She couldn’t be much different.

“That feels good,” she sniffed. “My back is like a fishing net, it has so many knots.”

He let the opportunity to ridicule her primitive, old-world folkism pass, and slid behind her on the bed.

“What are you—”

“Nothing sleazy. A back rub will help.” Before she could argue, he pulled her between his legs and went to work on her shoulders.

She groaned and her muscles seemed to melt under his hands. “Wait.”

Here we go. This is where she goes off on her “You’re getting it all wrong, I don’t feel that way about you” kick.

To his surprise, she leaned forward and pulled off her shirt. “The fabric was chaffing.”

Faced with the smooth expanse of her warm back, he suddenly couldn’t trust himself. He fixed his gaze on the dark lines of the curse tattooed on her arms, silently vowing not to notice the black straps of her lacy bra or the two tiny moles just above the small of her back, the ones he’d bent to kiss as he’d taken her from behind….

Just a friendly back rub for an injured person. Keep your dick out of her. It! Keep your dick out of it!

She moaned a little as his hands worked the base of her neck, and he shifted to keep her as far from his growing erection as possible.

“How long was I unconscious?” she asked, pulling her braid forward over her shoulder.

The silky rope of hair brushed his knuckles, sending shivers up his arm. “Well, we weren’t with you when it started, and you were…gone when we got there. But after Carrie got you back, I brought you up here and that was about…six hours ago?”

Bella turned her head slightly. They couldn’t make eye contact, but in profile he saw her mouth curve into a smile. “You carried me here?”

He shrugged. “You couldn’t exactly walk.”

“And you stayed with me?”

“Every second.” He cleared his throat. “Except for when I went to get the water and the extra towels and the first aid kit. Those seemed kind of important to have, just in case.”

“Ah.” She faced forward again and wiggled her shoulder, signaling he should continue what he hadn’t even realized he’d stopped.

Trying hard to infuse every brush of his fingers against her skin with platonic feeling, he kneaded her back, then her shoulders and finally her upper arms, trying the entire time to block out her satisfied groans and whimpers.

When his hands started to ache, he tentatively pulled away. “That better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She didn’t withdraw.

In fact, to his great and keen dismay, she leaned against him and reached back to loop an arm around his neck. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” He’d missed her. At least, part of him had.

She gave a little sigh. “Do you know you are still the only man I have ever slept with?”

“Congratulations. You went a whole month without boning someone else.” He felt her laugh, and smiled, though it hadn’t been meant as a joke. Somehow, the thought of her with another man horrified him more than the dangers posed by the Oracle and the Soul Eater combined. “Listen, I should go.”

“No.” Her arm tightened around his neck. “Stay with me.”

What would it hurt? He didn’t particularly want to travel down the road his thoughts were leading him on, but he couldn’t help it. Every moment of every day, he thought of her. Not because he wanted to, but because there was some broken pipe in his brain that kept sputtering out toxic drops of her until his head was completely polluted. Now the leak had become a flood, and his fear—a very real, paralyzing fear—was that his brain would never dry out. He’d just stagger through the rest of his life drowning in her.

But it infuriated him that he couldn’t just turn off the way he had with all those other women. She was dangerously close to becoming an obsession, and if he didn’t control himself now, he might never be able to.

He shoved her off him under the guise of clumsy gentleness, and tucked the blanket around her, pointedly ignoring the hint of dark color that peeked over the lacy edge of her bra. “You had a bad night. We both did. You’re not physically up to anything…physical.”

“Werewolves heal quickly.” She cocked her head.

“Yeah, well.” He scratched his neck, a nervous tic that seemed to emerge only around her. “I’m not up to it.”

Frowning, she crawled forward, rising to her knees to loop her arms around him again. “Did you get hurt?”

He didn’t return her embrace. “Yes.”

She finally got it. It took her long enough.

With a wounded look, she eased away from him. “You are not still angry about what happened between us?”

“Of course I am!” he cried. “Jesus Christ, it’s only been a month! What kind of inhuman bitch are you, to ask me that?”

Her eyes flew open in shock, then narrowed again. “Not a human. I did not think that was news to you.”

“Don’t change the subject!” He stood and paced angrily at the side of the bed. “You can’t do this. You can’t just decide we’re chums when you’re lonely or horny or—”

“I am scared!” she shouted over his tirade, her voice hoarse. “I do not want sex, I wanted you to stay with me. You have an annoying habit of cuddling. I thought if we had sex, you would stay, and I would not be alone here. I am sorry if I opened your wounds regarding me, but what was I supposed to do?”

She was more human than she gave herself credit for. He felt like an asshole, and he hated that she could make him feel that way. “First of all, I don’t have any wounds because of you.”

She glared at him, hurt shining in her eyes even as she prepared for another round of fighting.

He let her stew for a minute, then sat beside her on the bed. “And second, all you had to do was ask.”

The way his voice went rough, the way he had to clip his words short to get them out made him crazy. He was going to say something stupid. He knew it, and wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“All you have to do is ask for anything, and I’m not going to be able to tell you no.” He swallowed. There it was. “And that’s probably why I hate you so much.”

She smiled and kissed him, a friendly peck, thank God, and pulled him with her onto the bed.

As she arranged the covers around them, he glanced at the clock in the corner. “You know, it’s not exactly my bedtime.”

“Stay,” she implored, twining her fingers with his.

His lips quirked in a reluctant smile. “And I’m not exactly dressed for bed, either.”

“Stay,” she repeated, yawning.

He did.

During the day, while we slept, the atmosphere in the house seemed to change. If the Oracle had intended to shake our confidence by nearly killing Bella, her plan had backfired. By the time we gathered for another—hopefully uneventful—war council, we’d all found some sort of peace with each other.

Max, however, hadn’t found peace with his dining room, so we met in the library. Bella lay curled before the fireplace in a pose that betrayed her canine blood. Max sat at her side, occasionally giving her head an affectionate scratch. Each time he did this, Nathan, seated in the stiff-backed wing chair next to mine, rolled his eyes.

I gave him a warning glance and cleared my throat. “So, she can see into the Oracle’s head? Like with a blood tie?”

Bella shook her head. “No. I am not familiar with your vampire tie, but I know I cannot control what I see.”

“So, the Oracle is controlling it,” Nathan murmured pensively. He stared straight ahead, the way he always did when working out a difficult problem.

“Not necessarily.” Max tried, and failed, to make eye contact with Nathan, so he turned to me. “It sounds more like the Oracle gave Bella accidental access. Mind residue or something.”

“There are still things that are hidden to me. I know where she is going. I know someone is with her. But I cannot see who.” Bella’s smooth forehead creased in concentration. “Another vampire.”

“That narrows it down,” Max quipped. At Bella’s hurt look, he added a hasty, “Sorry.”

There was a pause. Nathan still stared into the flames of the fireplace, his steepled fingers pressed to his lips as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Max looked uncomfortably from him to me.

I shrugged. “So, where’s the Oracle going, then? I mean, we don’t have much, but that’s something.”

“Boston,” Bella answered quickly. “She is on a ship.”

“Do you know when she’ll arrive?” If she’d already come ashore, she could be anywhere.

Bella nodded. “Soon. She is still at sea, but she becomes restless. They will land in a few days.”

“That doesn’t give us much time.” Max seemed in danger of slipping into the same concentration coma Nathan was already in. Luckily, he snapped out of it quickly. “We’d better get moving.”

“All of us?” I’d just taken a long, perilous road trip, and I didn’t feel inclined to go on another one. Where I really wanted to be was back in Grand Rapids, living in skewed domesticity and half-assed reconciliation with Nathan. “I mean, shouldn’t someone stay behind and try to find the Soul Eater?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe you and Nathan should?” Max smiled. “Seriously, though, it’s a good idea. Bella has to go to Boston, because she’s the one who’ll be able to get clues and necessary info from the Oracle’s brain. I’ve got experience with the Oracle, albeit a drugged up, restrained Oracle, but it is experience. And the Soul Eater is really your and Nathan’s area of expertise.”

“So, I guess it’s settled then,” I said slowly, looking for any reaction from Nathan. “You’ll go to Boston and we’ll…”

“Nobody is going anywhere,” Nathan said finally. His meaningful gaze locked on each of us before moving back to the flames.

“So, we’re just going to sit around until the Oracle hooks up with your daddy and they turn the world into a nightmare of chaos on earth?” Max shook his head and lifted one arm over his head. “Raise your hand if you think that’s a bad idea.”

“It is a bad idea,” Nathan agreed. “But it’s also a bad idea to rely on information from the Oracle, especially considering how we got it.”

“Information from the Oracle is rarely wrong.” Max turned to me. “Remember Anne, the receptionist? She told you the Oracle had given her a vision of her back breaking, and it happened.”

It had happened, in gruesome detail, before our very eyes. “But she didn’t know when. She told me the Oracle doesn’t give specifics, and that’s why she didn’t believe it would happen.”

“If the Oracle is telling Bella she’ll definitely be in Boston in a few days, doesn’t that seem a little suspicious?” Nathan turned to the werewolf. “I don’t doubt you’re getting visions, and that they’re genuine. But you said yourself there were things you couldn’t see.”

“You think she’s setting a trap?” While I didn’t question Nathan’s intelligence, I did question the Oracle’s sanity. “She doesn’t seem to have it together enough to do something like that.”

“While I’m going to Boston regardless of what any of you chuckleheads say, you do have a point.” Max stood and leaned against one of the massive marble columns framing the fireplace. “On the other hand, I’ve seen her tear a man’s head clean off his body, so I’m disinclined to think she’s not evil enough to set us up.”

“Well, at least we agree on something,” I grumbled. “She’s capable of killing us all.”

“That kind of thinking is not constructive,” Bella snapped, glaring at me.

“If you go to fight the Oracle, you will lose.” Nathan gripped the arms of the chair and rose to his feet. “Don’t be so stubborn about this that you get yourself killed!”

“Hey, hey!” I shouted, standing quickly to step between Nathan and Max. The testosterone level was growing to an unmanageable level. “We’re not going to get anywhere fighting.”

“That I can agree with,” Bella sulked, still lying calmly on the floor.

I shot her an angry glance and turned to Nathan. “At the very least, Max and Bella should try to find out more about this Oracle situation. Now, if that means going to Boston—”

“Which I’m going to do, anyway,” Max snarled.

I raised a palm to silence him. “If that means going, then maybe they have to go. But they don’t have to engage in full-on combat. They can do some recon, find out what she’s up to, and get back to us.”

I turned to Max. “You have to admit, it’s pretty stupid to rush in to kill her when we don’t even know what she’s got planned. What’s to say that if we kill her, the Soul Eater can’t finish whatever it is she’s started, if she’s started anything at all?”

“You have a point,” Max conceded.

Nathan wasn’t so easily swayed. “And if the Oracle has an ambush waiting?”

“Max and Bella are Movement trained assassins.” I refrained from pointing out Bella had been seriously injured and that Nathan and Max had been rendered powerless by the Oracle. “They’re more than capable of taking care of themselves. Remember your training?”

“I remember,” he said with gritted teeth. “But let’s suppose they go and follow the Oracle, and learn all her secrets. What are we going to be doing?”

“Well, we’ll check out what’s going on with the Soul Eater,” I replied lamely.

“Without any Movement contacts and no idea where to start looking?” Nathan laughed derisively. “What are you going to do? Wave a magic wand? Or are we going to go back to the tarot cards?”

His contempt steeled my resolve to be the victor in this argument. “Nope. Not tarot cards. Think about it. You’ve got a blood tie to the Soul Eater. I realize it’s a risk to contact him, but it’s even riskier to let him roam around unchecked.”

I slipped my hand into Nathan’s back pocket, jerking him forward so our pelvises bumped. Almost before the thought fully formed, before I had any time to register shock at what I suggested, the words slipped past my lips: “And I’ve got Cyrus.”