Chapter Twenty-Seven
Vlad gritted his teeth as Mordecai dug the bullets from his body.
“You need blood in order to heal,” the old man murmured, glancing at the deep gash in Vlad’s chest.
“You think me that weak?” Vlad teased, hissing with the next penetration of the long tweezers.
Mordecai didn’t return his humor. “You are the strongest person I have ever known. But even you need blood to heal.”
“I’m not a person, my friend.”
“You are to me,” Mordecai responded quietly.
The sound of metal dropping into a glass bowl told Vlad the last bullet had been retrieved. His eyes nearly rolled back in relief. “Send in Angelo.”
“You can have some of mine, my lord.”
Vlad shifted his head to get a better look at Mordecai’s face. “I can’t take from you, Herman. You are far too old.”
“I’m not that old, my lord. I have a few good years left in this body.”
“I can change that for you,” Vlad assured him for the thousandth time.
Mordecai slowly straightened. “Not a chance. I have lived a good life, and I am more than ready to meet my maker.”
Something other than pain stirred to life in Vlad’s chest. He tilted his head to the side and stared into the elderly man’s eyes. “Do you believe that I am doomed to hell because of who I am?”
Mordecai shook his head. “One is not damned for what life they are given, but for the life they live.”
Shuffling from the room, the butler pulled the door closed, leaving Vlad alone with his thoughts.
“Vlad…” The silent call of his name whispered through his mind, haunted and laced with desperation.
“Nita,” Vlad spoke aloud, throwing his feet over the side of the bed. His shifter was in trouble. He could feel her pain as if it were his own.
“Whoa. What are you doing out of bed?” Angel rushed into the room to hover at Vlad’s side.
“Nita’s in trouble,” Vlad rasped, gritting his teeth and standing without help.
Angel began rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. “If you’re going after her, I’m coming with you. And you need to feed, or you’ll do her no good.”
Vlad accepted Angel’s offering of blood. With a nod of appreciation, Vlad gripped Angel’s arm and sank his fangs into Angel’s wrist.
A moan nearly escaped as his rapid healing kicked in, and the flesh on his chest began to knit back together.
Careful not to take too much, Vlad retracted his fangs from Angelo’s wrist and stood there for several seconds, basking in the power that rushed through his body.
“Once we grab Nita,” Vlad began, “we will head back to the Seekers’ lair and clean up the carnage. We can’t afford to have someone stumble upon it.”
Angel stood idly by while Vlad changed his clothes. “I agree, Sire. But the vampires will be ash once the sun comes up.”
“It’s not the vampires that concern me,” Vlad muttered, pulling on a shirt. “It’s the dead shifters. I realize that they aren’t our problem, but Nita is. And what affects her affects me.”
“You love her.”
It wasn’t a question, and Vlad knew it. “Let’s go. We’re running out of time.”
Shon was already waiting in the foyer when Angel and Vlad descended the stairs.
“I take it you heard everything?” Vlad asked, plucking his cloak from the coatrack and tossing it around his shoulders before raising the hood.
The corner of Shon’s mouth lifted. “Why the whole Grim Reaper motif? This is the twenty-first century. And of course I heard everything. With these high ceilings and stone walls, one doesn’t need to be a vampire to eavesdrop around here. I’d put money on it that Mordecai can hear a rat shitting in the basement from the top floor.”
Vlad laughed. He couldn’t help it.
Pulling the door open, the trio stepped onto the front porch.
“Where first, Sire?” Angel inquired, already jumping to the ground.
Vlad expanded his senses in all directions until he found what he sought. “You and Shon return to the Seeker’s lair to look for survivors. Burn everything. I want all evidence destroyed that can tie Nita’s people to the scene.”
“You got it,” Shon quipped before disappearing into the woods with Angel.
Vlad burst toward the west, his vampiric abilities strong once again, thanks to Angelo’s blood.
Glancing up at the sky as he ran, he pushed himself harder. The sun would be in up less than two hours, and he had no idea what awaited him at his destination.
It didn’t matter, he silently swore, blurring through the trees with barely a sound. Nita was in trouble, and he would let the sun take him, before returning home without her.
Shifter or not, Nita Franks belonged to him. Everything about her, called to him. Her scent, her mesmerizing eyes, and her strength. She had to be the strongest woman Vlad had ever known.
And her body, so full of passion and fire. Vlad wanted to mark her somehow, to announce to the world that she was his. But he had marked her, he thought with satisfaction. His very blood, flowing through her veins assured him of that.
The feel of Nita’s presence became stronger; the farther Vlad ran. Her anger and helplessness consumed him, pushing him harder. Faster.
His fangs tingled in his mouth and his eyes burned with rage. He would rain hell down on whomever dared put their hands on his mate.
Vlad’s heart suddenly twisted in his chest. Damn him, but he loved her. The realization of his feelings for her, nearly crippled him.
He burst through the trees, coming to stop near a cabin situated in the woods.
The sound of water cascading over rocks, roared in the distance, diluting the sounds coming from the cabin.
Muffled voices reached Vlad’s ears, followed by the smell of Nita’s blood.
A rush of emotion slammed into Vlad, followed by a power so strong it threatened to buckle his knees.
It swirled from within, spreading outward with such force, it shattered the windows of the small cabin.
A savage roar ripped from his chest at the sight of Nita’s naked body chained to a bed.
He blasted through the window with vampiric speed, severing one of her bonds before his feet hit the floor.
A vicious growl rumbled from the open doorway, followed by another and another. Four sets of pissed off eyes, stared back at Vlad, their paws, clawing at the floor.