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Into the Fire

Page 7

   


With a glance at me that managed to be both ruthless and apologetic, he drew a scorching finger across my thigh. It left a thin trail of burned flesh that read as clear as ink. Even as I gritted my teeth against the pain, I noted with ironic appreciation that Vlad’s handwriting was flawless.
I need Mircea alive. Name your price—Vlad Dracul
The other mystical cuts on my stomach ceased at once. Vlad dumped the rest of the water from the flower vase over me, washing away the old blood so that any new reply would be easily seen. We both waited in tense silence. If I’d still been human, I would have been holding my breath.
Minutes ticked by, and nothing happened. I never thought I’d be disappointed over not being sliced up, but I was almost twitching from agitation as my skin remained unbroken.
“Try sending them something else,” I urged. I might not enjoy this, but I needed to know what was going on.
Vlad flashed me another cruelly tender glance, then started burning out his new message. It was much longer this time, so he needed my entire abdomen to write it out.
Bring me Mircea and be richly rewarded. Kill him, and I will destroy you and everyone you care about.
“Way to butter up whoever this is,” I muttered.
This time, there wasn’t a hint of softness in his gaze as he looked at me. “It’s the truth.”
I didn’t need to feel his emotions to know he’d meant every word. Vlad’s brutal side was my least favorite part of him, yet it was part of him nonetheless. When he’d been a human prince of Romania, he hadn’t held off a far larger invading empire with flowery rhetoric. He’d done it with sheer ferocity, and his centuries as a vampire after that had only hardened him more.
“What if this is Mircea and he’s toying with us?”
Vlad touched the spot over my heart. “One faulty flick of that blade, and both you and Mircea would have perished. I didn’t think it through earlier, but it makes sense that it wasn’t Mircea. He hates me, but he wouldn’t risk his own life so recklessly. That means someone else did it, and Mircea must have told that person about his connection to you—and thus me—in order to save himself.”
Made sense, especially considering the odd What? I’d caught from Mircea right before that happened. He had sounded as if someone had surprised him, and not in a good way. Still . . .
“Mircea is a vampire-turned-necromancer who can disappear into thin air,” I pointed out. “How could someone even manage to hold him down long enough to stab him with silver, if Mircea can dematerialize at will?”
“Only one way,” Vlad said, and his caressing tone reminded me of the sound knives made when they pierced flesh. “Mircea is being held by people even more powerful than he.”
Magic sucks! I thought again, with far more vehemence this time. It wasn’t enough that we’d finally defeated the vampire who’d allied with Mircea in a centuries-long attempt to kill Vlad. Now, we had to worry about a group of mysterious sorcerers, too. And how would we find them when we didn’t even know who “they” were?
I closed my eyes. I hadn’t been afraid of my tie to Mircea before because he couldn’t kill me without taking himself out. Now, my life was in the hands of people I knew nothing about, except that they were powerful sorcerers and they appeared to want the person I was magically tethered to dead.
“We need to break the spell that’s tying me to Mircea,” I said, opening my eyes. “One way or another.”
“Oh, we will. Never doubt that.”
Vlad’s gaze was so bright, it resembled burning emeralds as he stroked my face. Then his hand descended, flattening when it reached the spot where that invisible, magic-fueled knife had stabbed me.
“Mere moments from losing you.”
His emotions remained locked down, but the muscle flexing in his jaw along with his elevated temperature was enough to let me know that inside, he was still incendiary. I reached out and twined my fingers through his, until our clasped hands rested over my heart.
“You didn’t lose me.”
And I hadn’t lost him. Less than an hour ago, I thought I had. I stared at Vlad, remembering how I’d tried to memorize his face because I thought I wouldn’t see it again. Now, I wanted something more tangible than a long stare to remind me that we both still had each other.
I pulled his head down and kissed him. It only took the brush of my lips on his for him to respond. He muttered something wordless, then pulled me out of the soaked, bloodstained bed to lay me in front of the fireplace. The fire rose higher as he stared at me, until those orange and blue flames looked as if they were trying to claw their way past the grate to reach us.
“No one is taking you away from me,” Vlad growled, his shirt tearing away after a single swipe. His pants met the same fate, then his molten body covered mine and he kissed me.
I couldn’t stop the currents that pulsed into him when I clutched his back, and from the low, darkly erotic sounds he made, he didn’t want me to. His hands moved over me with the ruthless knowledge of a lover who wouldn’t settle for anything less than my total, uninhibited surrender. Then his fingers taunted me with strokes that matched the sensual flicks of his tongue. After that, I was more than ready to give him everything he wanted . . . and to take everything I needed.
I reached down, grasping his cock while I arched beneath him. His groan vibrated against my lips as he rubbed that thick, hard length against me, sending a starburst of sensation into my loins. Instead of thrusting forward the way I desperately wanted him to, he grabbed both my hands and pinned them above my head.