White Witch, Black Curse

Chapter Thirty-one

You son of a bastard!" I exclaimed in frustrated anger, wiping the helpless tears away and shaking from adrenaline as I faced Kisten, his blue eyes pinched in distress because I'd found him in this tiny backwater of the Ohio River. "I don't care what vampire law says, you're not a box of candy. I've got everything we need. My car is in the lot. Just put on the disguise charm and we'll get the hell out of here!"
But Kisten smiled at me with his bright blue eyes and ran a shaking hand under my eye to leave the cool breath of drying skin. "No, love," he said, voice utterly devoid of his fake accent. "I can't live outside my society's rules. I don't want to. I'd rather die among them. I'm sorry you think I'm a fool."
"You're being stupid!" I yelled, stomping my foot. God, if I was stronger, I'd knock him out and drag him away. "There's no reason for it!"
Kisten stiffened, and when his eyes went over my shoulder, I remembered the boat's oh-so-subtle shift of motion and the sound of water lapping. The smell of vampire rose thick, and I turned, pressing my back into Kisten's chest. My chin trembled, and I clenched my jaw.
Kisten's killer wasn't a big man. Kisten could probably take him in a fair fight. I knew there would be no such thing. His eyes were black from blood lust, and there was a faint trembling in his hands, as if he was holding himself back, relishing the last drawings out. Faint wrinkles marked the corners of his eyes. His suit looked like it was from the eighties, and his tie was wide, stuffed into his shirt. For an undead, he looked sloppy and out of date. But he was hungry. Blood lust apparently never went out of style.
"Piscary said I might get a taste of witch," he said, and I swallowed at the angry bitterness just beneath his softly aggressive voice. He might look the fool, but he was a predator, and as he moved slowly into Kisten's low-ceilinged bedroom at the back of his cruiser, I realized how deep in the crapper I'd fallen. Eyes unmoving, I felt in my bag for my splat gun. It would down him as fast as anyone else, but only if he didn't see it coming. Undead vampires were fast, and I was sure he'd been dead long enough to pass the tricky forty-year ceiling that killed most of the undead. Which meant he was smart, too. Oh God. Why hadn't I just left when Kisten told me to? But I knew that answer, and I fumbled for Kisten's hand.
"Rachel, leave. He has no claim on you," Kisten said as if he was still in control, and the vampire facing us smiled at his innocence. His fangs were a stark white, gleaming in the low-voltage lights, wet with saliva. And my neck...Oh God. It was starting to tingle.
My hand pressed to my old scar and I retreated, my only thought to put enough distance between us so I could get out my splat gun. The vampire lunged.
Gasping, I flung myself to the side. My arm burned as I found the carpet, facedown. A terrifying sound filled the boat, and whipping my hair from my eyes, I watched them grapple. I couldn't breathe, and still on the floor, I sat up and fumbled in my bag. But my fingers wouldn't work, and it took an agonizingly long time to find my gun. I cried out in relief, shoved my bag aside, and pointed the muzzle at him. I'd shoot them both if I had to.
"Not like this," the older vampire said with a snarl.
"You got that right, coffin breath," I said, and I pulled the trigger.
His face an ugly mask of anger, the vampire shoved Kisten. He flew backward across the room, and his head made a loud thump as it hit the boat's metal wall, behind the paneling. "Kisten!" I shouted as his eyes rolled back and he slumped to the floor, out cold.
Shaking, I got to my feet. "You son of a bitch," I said, hardly able to point the gun.
"You have no idea," the vampire said, then showed me the splat ball, safely in his hand, unbroken and worthless. He set it gently on the dresser, and it rolled, falling behind it. Eyes slitted, he breathed deeply of the fear I was filling the room with.
Tears of frustration started leaking out. I had to let him get closer or he'd just catch the next ball, but too close, and he'd have me. Kisten wasn't moving, and I backed up. "Kisten," I said, nudging him. "Kisten, please wake up. I can't keep both of us alive. I need your help."
The smell of blood drew my eyes down, and I felt my face go pale. Kisten wasn't breathing.
"Kisten?" I whispered, shock filling my entire world. "Kisten?"
My eyes warmed, and hot tears slipped down as I realized he was dead. The vampire had killed him. The son of a bitch had killed Kisten.
"Bastard!" I shouted, in agonized pain and anger. "You son-of-a-bitch bastard. You killed him!"
The vampire stopped short and stared at Kisten. His black eyes widened as he realized he had, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. An ugly rumble of anger, almost a growl, lifted through the air. "You puking little witch," he snarled. "He was mine to kill, and you made me do it before I had even tasted him!"
I couldn't stop shaking, and as I stood with my feet spread wide before Kisten, I aimed my gun at him. "I'm going to-"
"Kill me?" he taunted, his expression so full of hate it was frightening. "Right."
He moved. My back hit the same wood that had crushed Kisten's brain against his skull, killing him instantly. The air left my lungs. The flat of the vampire's arm was at my throat, pinning me there. My eyes bulged, and I struggled to breathe. His weight let up, and I got a gasp of air in as the world spun and suddenly he had my front against the wall.
Pain exploded in my wrist, and my hand opened. I heard the dull thump of my gun hitting the carpet, and the pressure vanished.
"You ruined my entire evening," the vampire said, leaning against me so I could see the thin rim of brown around his eyes. "I was promised someone's last blood, and Kisten's is gone. Guess what that means?"
He was feeding off my fear, bringing himself to a higher pitch. I struggled, and he pressed his entire body length against mine. I couldn't move, and my fear edged into panic. My fingers dug at the paneling, and my tears slipped down.
"It means," he said, sending the scent of damp cement over me, "I'll drain you instead." I jerked as he pulled the last of my braid apart and ran his dust-scented fingers through my hair. "I'd rather have played with Kisten," he said as he breathed deeply of my curls. "Piscary has been at him a good long time, and the boy has so much saliva in him that I could probably cut out his heart and he would writhe for more."
"Bastard," I said to the wall, terrified.
He sucked in air as he ran the flat of his nose along my neck to breathe in my scent. I shuddered as his pheromones dove deep and brought the scar to life. Tension shifted to adrenaline, and I stifled a moan of what might have been ecstasy. But there could be no ecstasy here. This was evil. I was not turned on. I was scared shitless. "Leave me alone," I said, but it was a powerless demand, and he knew it.
"Mmmm," he said as he turned me around and I could see the lust reflected in his eyes. "I've a better idea. I'm going to keep you alive as my shadow. Take my revenge on sweet Ivy slowly. Piscary's little bitch needs to be taught her place."
He knows Ivy? Terror gave me strength, and I fought him. He let me go. He had to have. I couldn't have gotten away otherwise. He's playing with me, I thought as I ran for the door. I was on the water. I couldn't tap a line unless I could get off the boat. I am so lost.
Stars exploded, and I stumbled, falling on the bed. He had hit me. I hadn't even seen him move, but the freaking bastard had hit me, and I felt my face grow hot as I tried to figure out where the floor and walls were.
The bed dipped as he landed on it, and I rolled, finding myself farther from the door. I was going the wrong way. I had to get our positions reversed. I had to make a run for it.
His eyes glinted as he reached out, and with a soft exhalation, he said, "Ivy's bitten you, hasn't she? Maybe we can have some fun after all."
My face lost its expression, and I forced my hand from creeping up to hide my neck.
"Got a taste for vampires?" he mocked, and I made the mistake of taking a deep breath. Vampire incense tinged with the scent of cement filled me, lighting a path from my neck to my groin.
"Oh shit," I moaned, and my back hit the wall. Kisten lay dead at my feet, and I had a sexual high running through me, twisting, perverting my fear into pleasure. No wonder Ivy was screwed up. "Get the hell away from me," I panted.
The vampire had followed me, and he touched my shoulder, making my knees almost give way. "Soon you'll be begging me to sleep with you," he promised in a soft whisper.
Tears filled my eyes, and he kissed them away, his fingers smelling of damp cement as my tears moistened the dust from his fingers. I brought my hand up to claw at his eyes, and I gasped when he crushed them. "Stop," I said, begging him. "Please stop."
His wide hand splayed across my face, he forced my jaw open. One finger rubbing my neck, he slipped a dust-tasting finger in my mouth, feeling inside me.
"Don't," I panted, even as I writhed in his grip, and he forced his mouth to mine now that he knew I wasn't going to bite off his tongue. His rough hand pressed fully into my neck, and he gave a hard rub. Ecstasy surged. It wasn't him. It was like hitting a reflex, and I hated myself for the lust that hit me even as I struggled to get away, struggled to take a breath that wasn't full of him. To just get away!
I was crying, and he pulled away with my lip between his teeth. The sharp spike of pain through my lip was like an electric shock. He probably expected me to swoon at his feet, but it had the opposite effect.
Fear overrode the breath-stealing surge, and I lashed out. My nails raked his eyes. He swore and stumbled back. He had bitten me. God, he had bitten me!
Hand over my mouth, I ran for the door.
"I'm not done yet!" the vampire bellowed, and I lunged down the narrow hall. Falling into the living room, I ran for the door to the galley and my freedom. I tried to turn the handle, but my wrist wouldn't work, still numb from where he had forced my gun from me. The fingers on my other hand were purple and unresponsive.
Sobbing, I kicked at the door. Pain stabbed through my ankle, but I aimed again with a sidekick. I screamed as it hit, and this time the doorjamb splintered.
My numb fingers scrabbled for the door, and I shrieked when a heavy hand jerked me from the broken wood. I struggled for consciousness as my head hit the far wall, and I fell.
"I said, I'm not done yet," the vampire said as he dragged me back to the bedroom by my hair. Fighting like a mad thing, I tried to grab the door to the bathroom as we passed, but he gave a yank and my fingers scraped the carpet until they burned. He didn't let go of my hair until he jerked me up by the arm and threw me on the bed. I bounced off before I could find my balance, and I hit the floor on the far side, between the bed and the wall. My eyes went to Kisten, and my panic paused. He was gone. The floor was empty.
Shaking, I peered over the bed to find my love standing calmly at the window, staring at the night. "It's beautiful," he said softly, and my heart broke to hear his familiar voice coming from the mouth of a stranger. He was dead. Kisten was an undead. "I can see everything, hear everything. Even the mosquitoes over the water," he added in wonder, and he turned.
My chest clenched at the familiar smile, but the eyes behind it had lost something. If he could hear mosquitoes, then he had heard me scream and had done nothing. His blue eyes were without recognition, a confused, beautiful angel. He didn't know me.
And my tears wouldn't stop.
The vampire who had killed him had an irate expression, almost bothered. "You need to leave," he said brusquely. "You're worthless now. Used up. Get out."
One by one the tears fell, and I stood, not expecting any help from Kisten.
"I know you," Kisten said suddenly, and his eyes lit with remembrance. My bruised hands clasped at my chest, and I closed my eyes, weeping. They flashed open when his soft touch on my chin came too soon for him to have crossed the room, but there he was, his head cocked as he puzzled it through.
"I loved you," he said, with the wonder of the sun's first rising, and I caught back a sob.
"I love you, too," I whispered, dying inside. Ivy was right. This was hell.
"Piscary," Kisten said, confused. "He told me to kill you, but I didn't." He smiled, and my soul was crushed to nothing by the familiar twinkle. "In hindsight, that might have been a stupid thing to do, but it felt right at the time." He took my other hand and frowned at my swollen fingers. "I don't want you to hurt, but I don't remember why."
It took me three times before I could make the words come out. "You're dead," I said softly. "That's why you don't remember."
Kisten frowned, confused. "It makes a difference?"
My head hurt. It was a nightmare. A freaking nightmare. "It shouldn't," I whispered.
"I don't remember dying," he said, then let me go and turned to the vampire who had killed him. "Do I know you?" he asked, and the vampire smiled.
"No. You need to leave. She's mine, and I'm not sharing. Your blood needs are not my problem. Go take a long walk in a short shadow."
Again Kisten frowned, puzzling it through. "No," he finally said. "I love her, even if I don't remember why. I won't let you touch her. She doesn't like you."
I held my breath as I realized what was going to happen. Shit. I was going to be bound either to Kisten or to his killer. My fear coloring the air, I started backing up.
"She'll adore me in a few moments," the vampire said with a low growl. He dropped his head to eye Kisten from under his brows, and his hair swung forward. Kisten hunched, mimicking him, turning into an animal on two legs. The beauty and allure were gone. It was pure savagery, and I was the prize.
The vampire silently jumped at Kisten, shifting at the last moment to lunge over his head. He was headed right for me. Eyes wide, I ducked, swearing when his fist smacked my shoulder and sent me spinning into the wall. My head hit, and I struggled to focus.
I started to slide down the wall, but propped my feet against the carpet and locked my knees. I wouldn't go down. If I did, I might never get up. I watched, riveted, as the two fought. Kisten was not as fast, but he was ferocious. Barroom brawls had given him dirty fighting techniques that kept him moving and upright as the attacking vampire struck hard enough to break bones. Each block and punch did damage that the vampire virus mended.
"Get out, Rachel," Kisten said calmly when he finally got the vampire pinned in a corner.
Crying, I went for my bag instead. I had charms in there. My numb hand fumbled for something to save Kisten, to save myself. Seeing what I was doing, the attacking vampire took a hit and lunged at me. Terrified, I dropped the bag. I had the bottle of sticky silk in my hand from when I had pasted Jenks to my bathroom mirror so he wouldn't follow me.
I dodged out of the way and sprayed the vampire. The man screamed in shock as it hit him squarely in the eyes, but he was between me and the door again. I tried to edge by, and his arm flashed out, flinging me into the dresser. My gut landed squarely on the edge, and my momentum flung my head into the mirror. Pulse hammering, I spun, going stock-still when I saw Kisten in the other vampire's grip, his arm around Kisten's throat in what could easily become a neck-snapping grip. Fear took me again.
"Come here or he dies again," the vampire said to me, and I obediently took a step forward. Kisten had only one life left.
Kisten's eyes were wide. "You love me," he said, and I nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes so I could see.
The vampire smiled, long and toothy, as he held Kisten close, like a lover. "It would have been so distracting to take your last blood," he said into Kisten's ear, lips brushing the hair that I had once run my fingers through. "The only thing I'd have enjoyed more would be to take Ivy's, that bitch, but I can't have her," he snarled, jerking Kisten so his feet were on tiptoe for an instant. "She's Piscary's fucking queen. But this will hurt. I owe her some pain for the years I spent in prison, living off scraps and discarded shadows who bleed for anyone. Killing you is a good start. Making a puppet out of her roommate is better, and when she's a whining bitch with dead eyes and no soul, I'll move on to Ivy's sister, and then every last person she ever loved."
Kisten became frightened, the emotion crossing death, where love couldn't. "Leave Ivy alone," he demanded.
Kisten's killer's lips brushed his hair. "You're so young. I remember loving someone. But they died, and now all I have is the purity of nothing. My God, you're still warm."
Kisten looked at me, and from somewhere, more tears welled forth. We were all so very lost. It shouldn't end like this.
"So take my blood instead of hers," Kisten said, and the other vampire laughed.
"Right," he said sarcastically, and shoved Kisten away like the poison his blood now was to him.
Kisten gathered himself. "No," he said softly, in a voice I had heard only once before, on a cold snowy night when he'd fought off six black witches. "I insist."
He jumped at the vampire. The man stumbled, arms raised and almost helpless from the shock of the attack. Kisten's fangs flashed, still short for an undead, but they were enough.
"No!" the vampire screamed, and Kisten's teeth sank into his neck. I stared, pressed into the wide windows as Kisten's killer jammed a palm into Kisten's chin. I heard a sickening snap, and Kisten fell.
He hit the floor, convulsing before he even found the carpet. The other vampire clutched his neck and stomach as he staggered to the door. I heard him stumble down the hall, fleeing as he fell into dry heaves. The boat rocked, and I heard a splash.
"Kisten!" I dropped down beside him, dragging his head up into my lap. The convulsions slowed, and I wiped his face with my hands. His mouth was red with blood, but it wasn't his, it was his killer's, and now they both would die. Nothing could save him. The undead couldn't feed upon each other. The virus attacked itself, and both would die.
"Kisten, no," I sobbed. "Don't do this to me! Kisten, you sweet idiot, look at me!"
His eyes opened, and I stared, breathless, into their precious blue depths. The haze of death quavered, and cleared. My chest clenched as I saw a moment of lucidity return to him, as he teetered on his final, true death.
"Don't cry," he said, his hand touching my cheek as he looked up, and it was Kisten. He was himself, and he remembered why he loved. "I'm sorry. I'm going to die, and so will that fucking bastard if I got enough of my saliva into him. He won't be able to harm you or Ivy."
Ivy. This was going to destroy her. "Kisten, please don't leave me," I said, my tears spotting his face. His hand fell from my cheek, and I grabbed it, holding it to me.
"I'm glad you're here," he said, his eyes closing as he took a breath. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
"You should have left with me, you dummy," I sobbed. His skin was hot to the touch, and he convulsed once and took a rasping breath. I couldn't stop it. He was dying in my arms, and I couldn't stop it.
"Yeah," he whispered, his finger twitching against my jaw where I held it. "Sorry."
"Kisten, please don't leave me," I begged, and his eyes opened.
"I'm cold," he said, fear rising in his blue eyes.
I held him tighter. "I'm holding you. It's going to be okay."
"Tell Ivy," he said with a gasp, clenching in on himself. "Tell Ivy that it wasn't her fault. And tell her that at the end...you remember love. I don't think...we lose our souls...at all. I think God keeps them for us until we...come home. I love you, Rachel."
"I love you, too, Kisten," I sobbed, and as I watched, his eyes, memorizing my face, silvered, and he died.