Eventide

“Get the…fuck…off me!” it says between gasps of air.



“Did Valerian send you?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Wonder where the coward was anyway?



“None of your fu—”



I find myself off the newling and on my backside. I shake my head as my equilibrium takes a twirl. I focus on Eli.



He has the newling by the throat, suspended in the air by one muscled arm. The newling’s legs dangle inches from the ground.



“Who?” Eli asks, giving it a hard shake.



I slide a quick glance around. Nine downed and very dead newlings lie motionless on the ground.



“I’ve never seen him,” the young vamp grinds out. “I’ve never fucking seen him. Keeps to himself.”



I push myself up, holding my side, and walk closer. “A name. A place to find the name.” I press my blade to the newling’s testicles. “Or I swear to God, I’ll cut your balls off before I stick this in your heart.”



A swear tears from the newling’s misshapen mouth. “Okay, okay,” it says in a voice a bit higher pitched than before. “Drummond. He calls himself Drummond.”



“Where are the others like you hiding out?” I press the blade deeper. A trickle of white oozes out, the fading light from the moon glinting off the milky liquid as it trails down one leg.



“Fuck!” he yells, trying to squirm away. “Crazy bitch—get off me!”



Eli squeezes harder and gives it another shake. “Speak, or I’ll cut them off myself.”



“Some experiment,” he chokes out. “Goddamn witch doctor potions. Drummond’s research—has something to do with reversing powers or something. I don’t know!”



A blade whizzes through the air and buries into the newling’s heart. With a curse, Eli drops the body as it begins to seize.



I drop, too.



Eli moves beside me. I’m holding my ribs. Damn, it hurts just to draw a stinking breath.



“Riley? What’s wrong?” Eli says. He’s holding me now.



“I’ll be okay,” I say, although not with much energy. “I think I got a broken rib.”



My words muffle against Eli’s shoulder as I fall into him. He steadies me, then scoops me up.



“Where are we going?” I ask. “We can’t just leave the bodies here.”



“We can and we will,” Eli says. “We’re in a graveyard, Riley.”



“Oh yeah,” I gasp. “Hey, I’ll heal quickly, right? Getting kinda hard to breathe here, Dupré.”



“Yes, you’ll heal quickly,” he answers as he crosses Bonaventure. “Gotta get you home and wrapped first.”



“That sounds interesting,” I mutter.



Just before I pass out.



So much for frickin’ frackin’ superpowers.



What the hell?



Part Nine



REVENGE



She’s cool. I mean, not just because of what she’s become, and what she can do. Yeah, all that is sick but what I like best is she treats me like I’m an adult instead of a perpetual kid. I might be in the body of a fifteen-year-old but I’m far from that. I’ve lived dozens of full lives. I get sick of looking like a kid. But getting treated like one? Totally lame. But Riley treats me with respect. She’s like a sister to me, and I’m glad she’s part of our family. She can kick some sick ass, too, and she listens to me. Like when I tell her the aim of her throw is all off, she actually listens to my advice and follows it. I think that’s pretty cool. And, I’m totally in love with her brother. Lol!



—Josie Dupré



“Christ, girl. Be still.”



I frown, expire a huffy breath, and continue to stare at Eli’s angry face. Tense muscles flex in his jaw as he inspects my injuries. With a thumb and forefinger, he tilts my chin and examines both of my swollen eyes. Then with both hands, palms open, he runs them over my entire head.



“Lift up your arms.”



I sigh. “Jesus, Eli, I’ve looked much worse—”



“Lift up your damn arms, Riley. Now.”



With a curse, I raise my arms. Eli slides his hands over my ribs, lingering on the left side. I wince when he presses the area.



“Damn, girl,” Luc says, stepping into my kitchen. “You look like shit.”



I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. He laughs.



“I don’t know,” Noah says, sliding onto the counter beside me. “I think it’s pretty hot looking.”



“You think a Dalmatian in heat is hot looking,” I say.



“Be still,” Eli commands.



I close my mouth and glare at Noah. He wags his brow and grins.



Eli’s face hardens and he gently lowers my arms. “You’ve cracked two ribs. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He disappears down the hall, leaving me alone with my annoying audience.



“So somehow you were drugged,” Phin says, leaning on the counter close to me. In his palm, a small leather pouch. “That explains why you’re so banged up. Talked to Garr on the phone. He swears it’s a potion he’s never mixed before.”



“Yeah,” Luc continues. “Normally, none of these injuries would’ve had time to set in. Not with your tendencies.”



“Especially not with your funky DNA,” Noah adds. He shakes his head, his dreads moving with him. “Sick.”



“I don’t understand,” Gabriel says, his thick Scottish burr sounding out of place in my small Savannah apartment. “Why would they drug you, and how?”



“Her powers exceed even that of most newlings,” Phin adds. “She’s got strength that hasn’t fully developed yet, but it will.” He glances at me. “Whatever sick potion Valerian is concocting, it’s potent. It knocked Riley on her ass. Rendered her almost completely helpless.”



“I am far from helpless,” I say. “And for the record, getting sick of all of you talking around me.”



“So when did Valerian become a freaking scientist?” Luc asks.



“He studied in Spain,” Victorian answers. He has stood in the corner, quiet, until now. “I always knew he was interested in science, but never did I think he’d take such an interest in Gullah potions.”



“He’s learned to manipulate the compounds,” Phin says. “Lethal in the wrong hands.”



“Well, his are definitely the wrong hands,” I say.



Are you okay? You look awful.



Yes, Vic, I’m fine. I look worse than I feel. Promise.



I’m sorry.



For what?



Not killing my brother sooner.



I look at Victorian, and notice the regret in his chocolate eyes. I mouth I’m fine, and smile. Then I glance at the neon-green numbers on the microwave. Four twenty a.m. My stomach growls, a grumbly reminder of how long it’s been since I’ve eaten.



“Damn, Riley, I can hear that all the way from over here,” Noah says. “You want something to eat?”



“Yeah,” I answer. “Krystals. Twelve of them. With cheese. Bread extra greasy please.”



“What’s a Krystal?” Lucian asks.



“Can I take your Jeep?” Noah asks.



“Please, and hurry,” I say. Then I smile. “And thanks.”



Noah grins. “You owe me.”



“Okay, anyone want to go with?” Noah asks.



All but Phin head out.



“I’m sorry we weren’t there to help,” he says to me. “That gang of newlings dropped out of nowhere. Took us all by surprise.” He shook his head. “You should see Darius fight. That…is something not human.”



I smile. “Funny, coming from an ancient vampire.”



Phin frowns. “I’m not ancient. But I am sorry. You could’ve been killed.”



“Well, I wasn’t,” I assure him. “And you had your own fight to contend with. No worries, yeah?”



“Hey Phin,” Luc says, poking his head back through the door. “Can you drive a load? Too many to fit in the Jeep.”



Phin looks at me. “Be back in a bit.”



“Don’t forget to pick up my brother,” I say.



“Will do.” Phin leaves.



Eli returns with the first-aid kit. He sets the white plastic box on the counter, next to where he’d placed me, then rests a hand on each side of my hips. He urges my knees apart with his own hip and draws close, wedging his big body between my legs.



His gaze settles first on my mouth, then lifts to my eyes, where they linger for several seconds. Heat rushes to my inner thighs. In those blue, aged depths, I see more than just anger, more than just irritation because I wouldn’t be still and let him doctor me. I see regret.



And something else that doesn’t make sense. Fear? It makes my stomach plunge, as though falling from an airplane. What could Eli Dupré possibly fear? A few deep breaths, which hurt like hell, purge the nagging feelings. No time for crap like that.



I’m silent as Eli digs through the first-aid kit and pulls out a bottle of antiseptic and a few cotton balls. Saturating the white balls, he angles my head with one hand and dabs at the dual cuts on each cheekbone with the other.



“Ouch-cha,” I say, flinching.



His eyes flash, then he administers my care in total silence.



I let him.



When Eli finishes, he sets the cotton aside and picks up a roll of thick, white cloth wrapping tape.



“Lift your arms.”



I lift a brow, then my arms.



He doesn’t even crack a friggin’ smile.



Grasping my tank top by the hem, he pulls it slowly over my head and drops it on the floor. Although I’m wearing a sports bra, Eli’s eyes dip to my breasts, and they immediately respond, tightening into sensitive peaks beneath the cotton material.



Eli’s nostrils flare and the muscles in his jaw jump. “Hold on to my shoulders, Poe.”



Lifting my hands, I place them on Eli’s muscular deltoids.



“Higher.”