Читать книгу Blood Ties Bundle: Blood Ties Book One: The Turning / Blood Ties Book Two: Possession / Blood Ties Book Three: Ashes to Ashes / Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night - Jennifer Armintrout, Jennifer Armintrout - Страница 18

Revelations and Recriminations

Back in my room, I practically ripped the gown from my body. My fingers shook and my chest ached with sobs as I struggled to hold them back.

What was Ziggy doing here? He’d had an awkward confrontation with Nathan, but that didn’t explain why he’d come here. Not when he knew who lived here. Unless…

But he couldn’t have been running to me.

I put on my robe and rang the velvet bell pull to summon Clarence. He appeared minutes later, looking crisp and pressed as always.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked as he nodded politely to me.

His face was humorless. “You needed something?”

I drew myself up as regally as I could manage in a bathrobe. “Yes. The Master—” I stumbled on the word. “He has a guest with him in his chambers. I’d like to be informed when he’s…finished. And bring the young gentleman here.”

Clarence shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t involve myself with the pets.”

“He’s not a pet,” I snapped. “He’s a friend. If you don’t wish to do it yourself, tell the guards to deliver him to me.”

I thought I saw a spark of admiration in his eyes, but he didn’t smile. “Yes, ma’am. Will you require anything else?”

“Paper and a pen. Clean sheets. And medical supplies, any you might have. Gauze, disinfectant, clean towels—”

He cut me off. “I’m sure I can find an adequate first aid kit for you in the guardhouse.”

I wasn’t sure how to dismiss him. “You do that, then. Right now.”

After he’d gone, I went to my bathroom and ran the tap water until it was as hot as it could get. I grabbed a hand towel from the rack and plunged it into the water, then hurried to the parlor. I wiped off the wooden arms and carved back of the antique sofa, making several return trips to the sink when the cloth got cold. I repeated the process with the marble end table, and covered it with a clean towel. It wasn’t sterile, but it would have to do.

Clarence returned, and I nearly knocked him over to get at the medical kit he bore. I asked him to leave the folded sheets on the sofa. He surprised me by spreading them out carefully, skillfully tucking the corners around the odd shape.

I popped the latch on the beer cooler that contained my necessary supplies. Taking a seat, I examined the contents. There were all types of sutures, tape, gauze, vials of drugs, and even surgical instruments in sealed, sanitary packages. “This is what he gives the guards here?”

“He doesn’t want them going to the hospital. Raises too many questions,” Clarence said.

I looked up sharply. “What if they die?”

“Then some of the guards get burial duty.”

I looked out the window. The sky was turning pink. “What about the pets?”

“They don’t bury them out there. Guards go behind the guardhouse, that’s out past the maze. Pets go in the cellar. That’s my job.”

“The cellar? In the house?” I imagined piles of bodies festering below us. It made my skin crawl.

“In barrels. I fill ’em with cement and every other week the guards go out to the lake and dump them,” he answered.

“Like the mob.” If Lake Michigan ever dried up, I was willing to bet they’d find hundreds of such barrels. And crates, and probably shoes perfectly preserved in bricks of concrete. “Well, thank you, Clarence. That was enlightening.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for your young man” was all he said. Then he left.

I took the paper and pen he’d brought and went to my bedroom. I didn’t know how I intended to get the letter to Nathan, or what I should even say. “Hey, don’t be so hard on your runaway gay son” didn’t sound quite assertive enough, and “Get over it, you big, stupid baby” was more aggressive than I’d like to be.

Groaning in frustration, I went to the window. I’d have to close the curtains against the sunlight soon, but in this faint predawn, my gaze fell on something I hadn’t noticed before. A slight gap in the ivy-covered rock wall that surrounded the property. A gate. There were no guards.

I wanted to run downstairs and check it out immediately, but bursting into flames didn’t seem like the best way to start the day. I shut the curtains and went back to my letter.

Nathan,

Ziggy is with me. Wait for me at the gate in the sidewall after sundown. Don’t be late, I won’t be able to meet you after Cyrus wakes up.

Carrie

Dawn came, but I couldn’t sleep. Not until I knew Ziggy had survived. Eventually, exhaustion overtook me as I dozed off in one of the parlor chairs. It was around nine when I woke to the sound of labored footsteps coming through the door. Ziggy hung weakly from Clarence’s frail shoulders as the older man guided him in.

“Give me a hand,” the butler rasped, and I hurried to his side. Ziggy whimpered as he leaned against me, and I felt his nakedness through the sheet he’d been wrapped in. When I laid him on the couch, I saw the fresh bites that marred almost every inch of his skin.

And I saw the one I’d made. My stomach soured.

“Ma’am,” Clarence said, bowing stiffly as he handed a bundle of clothes toward me. It was Ziggy’s borrowed pants. On top was a folded note.

I looked from the livid purple bruise of a hand print around Ziggy’s neck to the gleaming white paper and snatched the clothing and note from Clarence’s hands. Shaking with rage, I unfolded the missive.

I only said I wouldn’t kill him. Enjoy what’s left.

I crumpled the note in my fist. “Clarence, if I needed you to send something to someone, would you do it?”

“It depends on what that something is.” He eyed Ziggy’s gray body as if mentally calculating his weight.

“No, not him. He’ll be fine.” I couldn’t ask the butler to risk his life freeing Ziggy, nor did I feel comfortable just turning the kid loose on the streets. I would hand him over to one person, and one alone. “I need you to deliver a note.”

He appeared reluctant. “You could ask the Master. He has messengers.”

“No. Cyrus can’t know about this.” Almost without thinking, I smoothed back a damp strand of Ziggy’s hair. His gaze darted over my face and his mouth moved slightly, but I could tell the drug hadn’t yet worn off completely. Had he been given another dose?

I wanted to be able to smile, to give him some reassurance, but I couldn’t. I turned back to Clarence. “Please. I want to notify this boy’s father. I want to get him out of here.”

Ziggy’s body spasmed. Great, I thought, he’s allergic to whatever Cyrus gave him, and he’s going to have a seizure. To my relief, the twitches that followed were much tamer, a sign that his muscles were slowly coming back to awareness after their paralysis.

“Give me your letter,” Clarence said somewhat reluctantly. “And tell me the address.”

“1320 Wealthy Avenue,” I said, choking back tears of relief. “The note’s on the table there. Do you want me to write down the number?”

“No, ma’am. 1320 Wealthy Avenue. Will you require anything else?”

A declaration of loyalty like the knights gave Arthur in all those Camelot movies would have been nice, but I doubted I would get one from Clarence. The only guarantee I had was the fact he hated Cyrus and probably wouldn’t go out of his way to make his master happy.

Clarence nodded as though he’d read and agreed with my thought, then he left without another word. Once he had gone, I knelt at Ziggy’s side.

His eyes searched my face, and his mouth worked feebly to speak. I laid my hand on his chest, hoping the touch comforted him. “Ziggy, I believe the drugs he gave you are wearing off. Did he give you another dose? Blink once for yes.”

With visible effort, his eyes closed briefly, then snapped open.

“You have some bite marks I think might need cleaning. Can I examine you?”

Two blinks and an angry glare.

I sighed. “I’m sorry I bit you. I really am. But I couldn’t let Cyrus know who you were. He’d kill you. You know I wouldn’t have done it in any other circumstance.”

Two blinks.

“Ziggy, please. I don’t want you to get an infection I can easily prevent.”

After a long moment, one blink.

I went to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands thoroughly. Then, with the consideration I’d give a sexual assault case in the E.R., I began my examination.

“I’m going to take this sheet off of you, but I’ll rearrange it so you’re not completely uncovered. Right now, all I’m doing is evaluating the severity of your injuries.”

And some were pretty severe. Long, but fairly shallow cuts latticed his chest. Hideous, purple bruises darkened his skin, and claw marks showed where Cyrus had gripped the boy’s shoulders. When I moved lower, I saw bite marks, not inflicted by fangs, but blunt, human teeth, on the inside of his thighs. I turned my head away.

When I looked back, I saw a tear roll from Ziggy’s eye. He wouldn’t look at me.

A few hours ago, he’d been indulging in what looked like some pretty terrific sex. Then he’d run away from the only home he’d ever known, just to come here and be violated and humiliated by Cyrus. And me.

I debraded the bites and scratches and covered the worst with squares of gauze. “Do you hurt…anywhere else?”

He answered with two blinks, but croaked a barely audible “No.”

I went to wash my hands and snag an extra blanket from my bed. When I came back, I tucked Ziggy in, then dropped wearily into a chair. He spoke again, with more strength behind his voice this time. “Thank you.”

I heard the emotion in his words and tried to sound casual. “It’s okay. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Some aspirin would be nice. I’m sore all over.” He swallowed with a wince.

I looked through the medicine kit and found a bottle of acetaminophen. “This will have to do. I don’t want to thin your blood, with all those…wounds.”

I couldn’t say bites. I crushed the pills into quarters so they’d go down easier and got a paper cup of water from the bathroom sink. Slipping my hand behind his head, I helped him to ingest the pills. “Why did you come here?”

He choked a little on the water, and it roughened his voice. He sounded like a man, not the boy who’d attacked me in the bookshop. “You saw what happened. He kicked me out.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’d come here. You knew who lived here.”

“I knew you lived here.” His arm jerked in an effort to wipe away his tears, but he couldn’t yet control his limbs. “I thought you’d let me stay. I didn’t know you were going to feed off me and let him do w-what he did to me.” The last part came out as a shamed whisper, and he closed his eyes. “I love irony, when it doesn’t happen to me.”

He felt he was being punished. I wanted to weep for him, trapped in his prison of self-loathing, but he didn’t need that now. He would shun my pity and turn away from me. Then he’d have no allies left. “You didn’t deserve this.”

“Yeah, well. That’s your opinion.” He laughed bitterly, and more tears rolled silently from his eyes to wet the hair at his temples.

“It’s not an opinion. It’s a fact,” I told him sternly. “You didn’t deserve what he did to you.”

He looked away, and I could practically feel the blame radiating from him.

I cleared my throat softly and decided to change the subject. “Ziggy, when you got here, did you tell anyone you knew me?”

“Yeah. The guards at the door. I told them I was looking for the doctor, that I knew you from the hospital.” He sniffled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mention the Movement. I figured they would have probably killed me.”

Rage brought me to my feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

With enough strength to splinter the hinges, I wrenched the secret door open and strode into Cyrus’s chamber. Two guards stood at his bedroom door, but they stepped aside and even opened it to admit me.

Cyrus was sprawled naked across the bed, the sheets and blankets in a tangled heap on the floor. Blood spattered the linen beneath him, and he snored in the depths of a contented sleep.

I could kill him right now and he’d never see it coming. The thought came before I had a chance to guard my mind from him, and I tensed, waiting for a response. His breath hitched, but he didn’t wake.

I stepped to the side of the bed, intending to wake him, but his arm shot out and caught my wrist. He pulled me down and pinned me beneath him.

“You’re mad enough to kill me, then?” he murmured against my neck. “You should have brought a weapon, because I can guarantee you won’t be able to do it with your bare hands.”

I didn’t struggle. “How could you do that to him?”

“How could you lie to me?” He twisted a hand in my hair, wrenching my head back painfully. “‘Who is he?’ you asked, as though you hadn’t the faintest clue that he’d come asking after you. As if I were stupid enough not to notice you’d cut yourself off from the blood tie, become so closed down to me that it was obvious you hid something. Who is this man to you, Carrie?”

I wanted to spit in his face. “He isn’t a man. He’s practically a child. And he’s a friend of mine. He was looking for a place to stay.”

“And I should just open my home to every derelict who wishes to show up?” He rolled off of me, and I pointedly ignored his nakedness.

“You do for your pets.” He’d grown aroused as he lay on top of me, and I clenched my teeth to fight the mirrored feeling from our invisible connection. “Why should it be different for him?”

“It isn’t.” Cyrus reached for the crystal bell that lay on his nightstand and he rung it sharply. The door opened, and the two sentries moved into the room. Cyrus pointed to the bedding on the floor, and they wordlessly began to untangle it.

Cyrus reclined against the pillows, utterly shameless in his nudity. “I only did what I would have done with any of my pets. I took what I wanted from him, and in return he’ll get what he wants from me.”

The guards laid the covers over us both, and Cyrus pulled me into his arms.

Though I was still angry, his touch felt so good that I didn’t resist him. I rested my head on his chest. “Promise me you won’t do that to him again.”

I felt his breath on the top of my head. “Fine. I won’t touch him against his will. But I won’t promise not to try to bend that will. He was a lot of fun.”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” I snapped.

He chuckled and stroked the exposed skin at the neck of my robe. “You’d be disappointed, anyway. I don’t kiss and tell.”

I started to rise. “I’m going back to check on him. He’s pretty beat up. But you already know that.”

“Stay.” It wasn’t a request.

“You there,” he called to one of the guards. “Blast, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Thomas, sir,” the guard replied quickly.

Cyrus nodded. “Thomas. Go and see to the young man in Carrie’s room. He’s in your care today.”

As the guard moved to do as his master bid, I called after him. “If he complains about the quality of care you give him, I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”

Thomas didn’t even blink at the warning, but I felt Cyrus’s pride through the blood tie. “Very good, Carrie. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying your role as lady of the house.”

His arm slipped around my waist and he cupped my bottom through the robe. I pushed his hand away. “Don’t think you’re going to get any. Ever.”

He replaced his hand and pulled me tighter against his side. “Do you really think I could perform after the energy I expended with your friend?”

“I said I don’t want to hear about it.”

He laughed softly. “Sleep, princess. All I wanted was to feel you beside me. Where you belong.”

His words were like a death sentence.

Though it was nearly noon, I couldn’t sleep. I listened as my sire’s breathing grew slow and even, and his gentle snore returned. I propped myself up on my elbow and studied him.

He couldn’t have been very old when he’d been turned. Twenty-five at most. In sleep, his face was smooth and devoid of lines, unmarked by the volatile emotions that ruled him in wakefulness. His skin, though pale, stretched across a body hardened from years of physical labor. From what little I knew of the time he’d been born to, I guessed he’d worked hard as a human.

This man is your sire. This man is the blood that pumps through your heart. I pressed a kiss to his lips. No matter how much I tried to hate him, something defeated the effort. The blood tie? Or my own, insane attraction to him that grew despite his cruelty and depravity?

When I was near him, I wanted him. When he was out of my sight, I hated him. If I could just weed out my true emotions from those governed by the blood tie, I’d know how I felt. Maybe I’d be able to feel my own blood in my veins then, not just the scorching presence of his.

One of his arms secured me at his side as though he were afraid I would bolt. The other lay across his chest. I reached for that hand, surprisingly elegant despite the lethally long nails that tipped each finger. I remembered what Nathan had said about vampires looking different as they aged. If I lived long enough, what would I become?

I lifted his hand and wondered what I would see if I linked our hands the way he’d done before. If his defenses were down in sleep, would I be able to choose the direction of the visions? I laced my fingers with his and closed my eyes.

Before the rushing current took me, his body thrashed against mine, as if he were in a nightmare. Then a red film washed over me and an unimaginable pain tore through my chest. I opened my mouth, or rather, Cyrus opened his mouth, and a scream of agony burst from his raw throat. “Father!”

“Hold still, boy. Your brother didn’t carry on so!” When Cyrus opened his eyes, the face that belonged to the stern voice sneered down at me. Though his skin was weathered with age and the lines of a hard life, he bore a striking resemblance to my sire. Blood stained the front of his shirt and the ends of his long white hair. His hands were inside Cyrus’s chest, searching, pulling, ripping.

In a dizzying second, the vision changed. The face before me morphed into that of a young woman, her body limp, her eyes wide but sightless. The searing pain in Cyrus’s chest began anew. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t move.

Couldn’t pray.

His father’s laugh echoed in his ear. Cyrus’s scream was harsh, his voice used up by his cries for mercy. A deafening roar propelled me out of the vision, and I sat up, panting, at the same time Cyrus woke from his dream.

His features transformed in his rage. “Did you get a good look?”

The Cyrus I knew was gone, replaced by the ruthless figure of John Doe. I cowered, and was ashamed of the motion. “I needed to know…” I had no idea how I would finish the sentence. “I needed to know how I really felt about you, and I thought I might get a clue by poking around in your head.” That wouldn’t leave me vulnerable to his manipulation or anything. My eyes searched the room, finally resting on the scar that divided his chest. “I wanted to see how you got that scar.”

Wrong answer. He grabbed me by my shoulders and flung me from the bed. I hit the floor and skidded painfully, the soft carpet cutting like razors as it scraped my skin.

“Get out!” He leapt from the bed and snatched his robe, angrily thrusting his arms into it.

I stood, rubbing my tender knees. “Don’t be mad. It’s not like I—”

“Did you hear me? I told you to get out!”

He paced the floor like a caged animal. I thought he’d strike me, but each time he raised his hands they closed in frustrated fists and he dropped them to his side. Eventually, he gave up and stalked to the door. He called to the two guards who blocked it after he passed. “I’ll be in my study. See that I’m not disturbed.”

Aching with physical pain and rejection, I pushed one of the guards aside. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to follow him,” I snapped when they protested. I told the truth. The sun would set in a matter of hours, and I had a meeting with Nathan. I’d need to be strong.

Because I didn’t know what Nathan would do to me when he saw me.