Blood and Snow 9: Love Bleeds Read online

  “Awesome,” I said, admiration at her magic abilities overflowing.

  She beamed. “After your father left, Dorian and Pops agreed this should be your room.” A hand went to her mouth, and her face fell. Mine did too. My heart crashed into the pit of my stomach. “I’m sorry… about your father. I’m an idiot,” Cindy whispered.

  I didn’t respond, focused instead on fighting back the sudden tears filling my eyes. My father. Why did he leave? Had he stopped believing in me?

  Did he ever believe in you, my inner voice seethed.

  I wanted to trust he had.

  Cindy patted my arm. “He was so sad, Snow. Broken. After your stepmother left, he quit doing anything, except drink. A lot. We think,” she stopped, placing my hands in hers. “We hope he went to get help. He left a note…”

  I took a deep breath. It was nothing new. He hadn’t been around in a long time. “It’s okay. I know he worried.” I went to the door. I needed to get downstairs stairs. The guys, Christopher, and Professor Pops were waiting.

  “Come on. We’d better go make sure the guys haven’t killed each other.”

  “Wait.”

  I turned. “Yeah?”

  “You sure you’re okay with Gabe and I?”

  Relationship problems were the least of my worries. “Of course.”

  I changed my mind though. I wasn’t sure I could see Cindy and Gabe in the same room yet. “Can you ask Christopher to come here? I need to talk to him alone first.”

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” The idea of spending time with my Hunter sent my blood racing. What I really wanted was his blood.

  Chapter 5

  While I waited, I checked out the closet. It was huge. A whole other room with white walls, and clothes hanging everywhere. I recognized some of them, as well as the perfume bottles that’d been on the dresser in my room. T-shirts in every shade of every color hung on one rack. Underneath were lots of jeans, hanging by fabric and shade. To the left were drawers, which I opened and found a dozen different sunglasses. The drawer under that held beautiful scarves. Then belts. On the other side were more drawers situated next to cubbies filled with the Converse Professor Pops gave me for my birthday. Inside those drawers were socks, watches, and jewelry. Another rack held my dress from the Masquerade Ball, and coats, as well as more dresses. Across the room was an overstuffed red chaise. On either side were more drawers that contained bras and undies.

  “Good grief,” I whispered, pulling out a lacy fuchsia bra with matching undies. The tags were still attached, and they weren’t cheap. “This is crazy.”

  “Hellooooo?” Cindy called rounding the corner.

  “Oh,” I responded, quickly tossing the obscene undies back in the drawer.

  “Were those?” she began, but I shushed her as Christopher stepped into the closet.

  “Hey, Frosty,” Christopher said.

  Cindy snorted.

  “Hi,” I responded shyly. To Cindy, I asked, “Wanna meet at Warehouse Video later?”

  She shook her head. “I wish, but the place shut its doors a few months ago.”

  “No,” I cried, slamming the drawer shut harder than I planned.

  “It’s so sad. The guy who owned it closed the shop and moved to St. Bart’s. At least that’s what my mom said.” Cindy opened a drawer and pulled out a teal scarf.

  “That’s awful,” I agreed, watching Christopher watch Cindy with an amused expression.

  Warehouse Video, better known as “our house” had been around forever. Cindy and I started going there years ago. All the high school kids went for coffee, videos, and snacks. Mainly though, we used it as a hang out… a place to call our own. Our house.

  “Dang. What else did I miss?” I was struck by the knowledge that life continued on. It didn’t matter whether I was around to witness it or not. Two years. It felt like a lifetime. I forced back my sadness.

  Cindy tied the scarf, and adjusted it while watching her reflection in the mirror that ran the length of a wall. Finally she said, “Nothing too important. I missed you though. Terribly.” She sighed and hugged me. Unwinding the scarf, she placed it back in the drawer. “I’ve got to get to work. Come by the restaurant when you get a sec.”

  “I will, if it isn’t too late.”

  She squeezed my hands. “I’m working all day tomorrow too.”

  “Okay.” It always surprised me—impressed me really, that Cindy worked so hard even though her family had money. Her other friends thought working as a waitress in an Italian restaurant was beneath her—certainly beneath them. Cindy seemed to enjoy it.

  When she reached Christopher, she punched him in the arm. “Be nice, or you’ll regret it. I’ll conjure warts on your nose, and other places, if you catch my drift,” she said pointing to the front of his jeans.

  Christopher snickered. “Got it.”

  “I’m not kidding, vampire Hunter. I’ve got skills.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Apparently Cindy knew all about everyone, including Chace aka Christopher aka my Hunter. And she was threatening the vampire Hunter with genital warts. So charming.

  Gabe probably filled her in, I thought.

  Christopher pointed his first finger at her, like his hand was a gun, and made a chk-chk sound with his mouth.

  Cindy gave me one of her looks. This one said, ‘I can’t believe I ever thought this idiot was hot.’

  I shrugged.

  She kissed her middle finger, flipping him off, and left.

  Chapter 6

  When I heard the bedroom door close, I slumped into the chaise. I was suddenly, overwhelmingly tired, and… thirsty. It didn’t matter my body had been in a prostrate position for two years or that I drank from Dorian not too long ago.

  Christopher still wore a smirk on his sexy lips, and I wondered what he was thinking. Pushing off the wall, he sauntered over and casually lowered himself to a spot next to me on the chaise.

  For some reason I imagined him and I in Sharra. Me in the heavy dress. Him dressed like a fairy-tale Prince. The way he’d talked to me about kusala and akusala—balance in all things. Perception, and how good and evil depended upon it. The way we kissed and drank each other’s blood. He’d brought out feelings—of lust, of hunger, of need. I enjoyed it very much. The memory sent heat to my cheeks.

  His smile grew bigger. “What are you thinking?” He brushed his fingers along my elbow, sending tingles through my arm.

  Blood. More blood. And, more blood, my inner voice chanted.

  “You,” I answered boldly.

  He moved closer, grabbing my hand. “Really?”

  “Yes.” I tried not to let him hear me gulp on my need. He smelled delicious, and his blood sang to me. “It’s good to see you with your eyes open, and out of that box.”

  “Ditto,” he said softly. His eyes raked me over, and landed on my neck. I realized he was feeling the same way about me—my blood.

  “Want some?” he asked, tilting his neck.

  “Y-Yes,” I breathed, flinging myself into his arms, sinking my fangs into his neck. Warmth, from his body and his blood surged through me, making my skin tingle.

  Hunter blood. Magic blood, my inner voice clucked happily.

  Christopher groaned, wrapping his arms around my waist. I shifted, so I was on my knees, my hands on his shoulders. He kissed my neck, letting me know what he wanted. I pressed my body closer so my chest touched his, and my legs found their way around his hips.

  We stayed like that a long time, our bodies moving to a rhythm only we heard. When I was thoroughly filled, I withdrew my fangs, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “You owe me,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  I was surprised. “You don’t want some now?”

  “I do, probably more than you can imagine.”

  I doubted it. I wanted his blood so bad I’d flung myself at him—literally.

  Christopher continued. “First, I want to know what happened to you?” He ski
mmed my jaw with the back of his hand.

  I bit my lip, hoping I didn’t look too much like the cat that swallowed the canary. “You mean why did I fall asleep for two years?”

  He chuckled, his eyes still on my neck.

  “Exactly.”

  I gave him the abbreviated version, ending with the pain I felt, and seeing life through Silindra’s eyes. Christopher listened, nodding and commenting when necessary, but I perceived he was preoccupied.

  I paused and asked, “Have you heard of the pixilette, Ryden?”

  He cocked his head to the side as though thinking. “No, I haven’t. If she’s alive, she wouldn’t hang out with Sharra. Especially if she was a friend to Silindra.”

  “True. I just hoped maybe you saw her in Sharra’s land.”

  I was sitting on the chaise next to Christopher, my legs tucked around his hips. Every once in a while he touched my legs, and tingles flew through my body.

  Something was bugging me. “Why don’t magical creatures dwell outside Sharra? There seems to be a lot of them. At least during Silindra’s time there were. They roamed the earth freely then. What happened to make them stay in Sharra?” I thought about the little pixilette who came to me in the library. She turned to dust after a short time.

  Christopher folded his hands in his lap. “I wondered if you might notice.”

  I played with a string on the end of my shirt. “Only just,” I said.

  “Once Silindra was destroyed, Sharra went crazy. Some say it was because of her overzealous craving for power. Others, like myself, believe grief from the loss of her sister got the best of her.” He sighed. “Her magic combined with her paranoia grew so strong she created the land of Sharra, and imprisoned all magical creatures within. That’s why very few people see pixilettes, elves, or even vampires. For the most part we dwell in the Vampire Queen’s realm. We have to or we’ll die.” He pressed a hand to my cheek. “If one of us leaves, it’s guaranteed we’ll die.”

  “But you haven’t died. Neither has Professor Pops, uh, I mean Adam Henry, or Kenmei.”

  “That’s right. Only those who have been gifted with some of the Vampire Queen’s magic can leave Sharra without dying. Unless, like myself, Professor Pops, and Kenmei, they find a way around Sharra’s curse.” One of his hands found its way to the bear he’d carved the day he turned into a vampire. “Without you,” he paused and smiled. It was a heart-melting smile and I returned it. “I would still be under her power.”

  I nodded, trying to understand what he was saying. “So she woke you after I went back in time with Silindra, and then… what?” I didn’t get how the little wooden bear broke Sharra’s hold on him.

  He untied the leather chord holding the bear, and stroked it. “When Sharra turns a human into a vampire, we’re pretty normal afterward, except for the, ‘Grrrrr, I must drink human blood, part.’” He’d brought his hands up and curved them to look like bear claws while he growled.

  I leaned back slightly in response, but laughed.

  He laughed too. “I know, right.” He sucked on his bottom lip. Sexy. He was sexy. No doubt about it. “When Sharra makes one of us a Hunter, she takes a portion of our soul, and has command over it.”

  I felt my eyes raise in question.

  Christopher continued, “Not that she controls us, like puppets.” He shook his head. “Mainly it’s more she can sense us, and we can sense her. She can communicate with us, and vice versa. She can feel any really strong emotion we might have. Basically, it’s her way of keeping tabs.”

  “Oh,” I said, remembering the way we’d kissed, the words he spoke to me. Had Sharra felt that? Did she know what we’d done?

  Of course she did, my inner voice quipped.

  “To reclaim our soul, it takes something incredibly special. For me, it was this bear.”

  I thought about Professor Pops and Kenmei, and wondered what their special something was.

  “What about the chayot?”

  He blew out his breath. “The chayot are different. Sharra never had any control over them. She still doesn’t, and never will. No matter how many she turns. Their power doesn’t come from magic.”

  “I thought everything came from magic.” I thought about Sharra and Silindra’s non-parents, the beings that created them. They pulsed magic.

  “No. The chayot were created…” He didn’t finish, seeming uncomfortable.

  “What? Where do they come from?”

  He balked. “Who knows. There are only rumors. I’m not sure anyone understands the truth. All that matters is that they can dwell wherever they choose, the same as the dragons.”

  I stopped him. “Abernathy is alive, right? I heard Pops talk about him.” It was weird though because I’d seen Cindy’s spell book, and supposedly his eye was on the cover. How did that work?

  “Yes, I believe Abernathy lives. Dragons are lazy. Time means nothing to them. A dragon could sleep a century and be none the wiser.”

  I believed that. When Silindra went to visit Abernathy he’d gone back to sleep before she left his cavern.

  “What about the Chosen?” I asked. His eyes shot to mine, and I quickly continued, “Those of us who’ve been bitten by a Hunter and changed? We exist outside the realm of Sharra. Why don’t we die?”

  He cleared his throat, avoiding my eyes, and my question. “Tell me what Silindra was like?”

  “No, not until you answer me.” A flicker of worry swirled through my stomach.

  He finally looked up. “Those that the Vampire Queen doesn’t choose will die within days of turning nineteen.”

  Time slowed. Everything around me grew sharper. I heard a spider crawling along the carpeted floor, under my bed. A slight rattling of the houses’ pipes. An occasional hum of a car driving by. My mind didn’t want to believe what Christopher said. But I repeated his words, his horrible words. “We’ll die?”

  “You won’t. She’s chosen you.” He scooted closer, trying to be reassuring.

  Did I tell him the Vampire Queen chose someone else? That she intended to hurt those I loved? I fought back an urge to smack him, and then changed my mind, letting him have it.

  “Ouch,” he said, chuckling, rubbing the spot on his bicep I smacked. “What was that for?”

  “It doesn’t matter who she’s chosen. I can’t let any of the Marked die. That’s unacceptable.” I wondered if that was the reason the girl Professor Pops loved died so long ago.

  A picture of what I must do, with the help of the Seal, was becoming clearer. With the power of the Seal, I had to restore balance to, not just magical creatures, but all of Earth’s beings.

  “I have to stop her, Christopher. Will you help me?”

  “Any way I can,” he said, standing.

  I stood too. “Are you going?” He hadn’t taken any blood, sank his fangs into my neck. At the thought my knees grew weak.

  “Yes. The boys,” he said the word boys with arrogant indifference, “are getting antsy and Kenmei has arrived. I believe he has a lot to discuss with you as well.”

  “Okay.” I sighed.

  Christopher grabbed my hands. “I know. I wanted to savor the taste of your blood, your lips… all of you.” His eyes twinkled as his fingers caressed my neck. “Later tonight, after everyone is in bed. Leave a window open, and I’ll come back.”

  In response, a smile curled my lips. “See you tonight.”

  My heart beat fast at the thought.

  You’d rather drink from Dorian, my inner voice huffed, but I rejected the errant thought.

  Christopher opened a window, and stepped onto the roof. Then jumped, landing on the ground with barely a sound. I momentarily worried he might be hurt, but noticed a whisp of wind running from the property.

  He’s a vampire for goodness sake, I thought, shutting the window.

  Chapter 7

  On my way down the stairs, I heard a yowl, like the sound of a dying animal. Before I guessed what noise was, my cat came into view, his little paws sliding on the m
arble floor as he ran to the stairs—to me.

  “Gatsby,” I whispered, increasing my pace. He met me half way, winding his body between my legs. “You happy to see me, boy?”

  In answer, Gatsby purred. I picked him up, rubbing my nose across his soft gray ears. He looked good, well fed. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, he jumped out of my arms and padded his way down the hall. I followed. Someone played the piano, a melodic melody. The notes clung and twirled in the air. Some of the brother’s talked softly.

  Gatsby led me into the music room. He jumped on Gabe’s lap, curling himself in a ball, settling his head on his paws.

  Gabe laughed, though his features stayed hard, stressed. “Comfy?” He scratched Gatsby behind the ears. I tried to catch his gaze, but he avoided my direction entirely.

  He was seated in one of many white wingback chairs, one leg propped over an armrest. His sword (which seemed completely out of place) was in its sheath, but rested against the chair.

  In the center of the room was a black grand piano. Bart played while Heathcliff and Sebastian stood behind him watching. Dorian was in another wingback, reading a manga, and the other brothers were sitting with Professor Pops and Kenmei talking.

  Of course I’d been in here before, but seeing it filled with the brothers, Professor Pops, Kenmei, my cat… I couldn’t help the bubble of happiness.

  My eyes found Dorian’s. His clothing choice needed to be discussed.

  He watched me with a goofy grin.

  “Really?” I said, pulling my shirt, making the words easier for me to see.

  He chuckled. “Duh. You definitely do bite.”

  I flinched, embarrassed. Gabe’s frown grew deeper, but he didn’t say anything. I wondered if he cared I drank from Dorian?

  Maybe he doesn’t know, I thought.

  Dorian came over and tugged on the bottom of my shirt, one side of his mouth in a half-smile. My heart rate increased. I wanted to reach out and touch his rumpled hair. Brush my hands along his square jaw. Press my lips to his neck, and taste more of his blood. (I couldn’t get enough blood, but two years was a long time.)