Chapter Seven
Jordan came awake with a groan. The sound was raw and it scratched her dry throat. God, her head pounded and she ached all over, especially her stomach. Pain was nothing new to her and the cold…She was warm. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she was warm and she was in a bed?
Panic bloomed in her chest at the realization. She tried to remember what happened, but the last thing she could recall was Ross slapping her awake and dragging her to the purchasing room. There’d been a fight...and the rest was a fog. But she was free. Wasn’t she? Or had she been sold?
Jordan cracked open her eyelids and squinted into the darkness. Light crept into the room from an open door. Her vision was blurry, but her other senses were strong and she had the vague inclination that she was on a plane. Rough vibrations rattled her bones. The humming of powerful engines made her ears ring, but the sound was forgotten as the soft scent of winter and man had her turning her head into the pillow. She trembled recognizing the scent.
Was she hallucinating? Had the drugs permanently turned her brain to mush?
Memories flashed through her mind like lightning. A tall, menacing figure dressed in black. Shattered glass. Snow. Pain as she hit the ice. Dizziness. The pressure of fingers wrapped around her throat. Gasping for air. Then he was holding her. The ruggedly beautiful blond male with diamond green eyes. His lips had brushed her cheek, Be still, love. I’ve got you.
Closing her eyes, twin tears slipped down to her chin. Please don’t let this be a dream.
Swallowing hard, she tried to call out his name, but no sound came from her lips. Opening her eyes, Jordan pressed her palms into the mattress and strained to lift herself.
“Careful, J.”
She stilled. Her heart pounded. No one had called her “J” since she was a child.
A figure stepped from the room of light and paused in the threshold. Those gentle eyes, the soft reddish brown hair and that familiar, concerned frown. No. Impossible.
Jordan bit her lip, concentrating; she forced herself up onto trembling arms. Her stomach rolled in protest of the movement and she fell to the side. Her head lulled over the edge of the bed, her abdomen painfully contracted. The pounding in her head morphed into a violent hammering, her vision dimmed. She felt the blackness of oblivion tug at the periphery of her mind. Her shoulders shook as dry heaves burned her throat.
“J!” The man lunged for her crossing the narrow chamber in a flash. His grip on her shoulders was light as he set her up, laying her back against the pillows.
No. No! She wanted to scream. This had to be a dream or some cruel hallucination. Wake up. This isn’t real. Come on, wake up!
Unable to hold back her despair and outrage, she began to sob. She’d snapped, her mind shattered. Ross had finally broken her.
“Please, Jordan, stop crying. You’re safe.”
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to stare at the doctor’s face. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be. Scott was dead.
His fingers pressed into the pulse at her wrist. “Jordan, you’re—”
“L-leave.” The word was torn from her, hoarse and pathetic.
He pressed his palm to her brow, then her cheek. “Have some water.”
She sensed the cool liquid, perceived the glass he offered her, but didn’t reach for it. “Not r-real.”
“Oh, Jordan.” His sigh filled with sadness…and regret? “Please, open your eyes. Look at me.”
She shook her head again, gritting her teeth against the pain that shot through her skull.
Lowering himself to the bed, Scott sat on the edge.
Gaining control of her tears, she squeaked, “Dead.”
“No. Well, not entirely.” She heard him take in a deep breath. “I’m a vampire.”
Vampire? Jordan’s eyes popped open and she studied the face of the man she once knew, noting the subtle changes. His gaze was sharper, his skin perfectly smooth, his breathing falsely rhythmic, and his aura was touched by darkness. Could this be true?
“Scott?”
He smiled, revealing a set of canines too sharp to belong to a human. “Yeah. It’s me.”
Jordan reached out and brushed her fingers along his shoulder. “I’m real,” he said, answering her questioning gaze. “God, J, I’m so sorry. I had no idea—” His words died with an anguished expression. “You’re here now. Safe.”
Scott offered her the water again. She nodded and he held the glass to her lips. After a few sips she turned her face away. She was thirsty enough to down gallons, but her current condition wouldn’t allow it.
Wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, she asked, “Where am I?”
“On a jet. We’re heading to Nevada.” He placed the water on the nightstand. “I’m so sorry, J. I should have kept tabs on you. I should’ve been there for you when your aunt passed.”
“What h-happened to you?” Her voice cracked. “You vanished.”
Scott ran a hand through his short hair. “About twelve years ago, I had a lead on a vampire den. I went to scout ahead of the other hunters. I was discovered. Beaten.”
Jordan set a trembling hand on his knee silently encouraging him to continue.
“One slit his wrist, proclaiming the best revenge against a hunter wasn’t death. I was too weak to fight him.” His eyes closed, he released a shuddering sigh. “Days later, your aunt found me…after the transformation. Meg hid me from the hunters. From you. I knew I couldn’t stay. So, for three years I traveled, learning all I could about vampire society. The Clans. The Laws. The Outcasts: vampires banished from the old Clans in Europe and blood bastards—like me.”
Jordan blinked. She hadn’t known much about vampires. Her aunt had taught her their weakness, how to kill them, but through her captivity she’d picked up pieces of an entire world hidden in the darkness.
“Somewhere along the way, I’d heard Meg was sick. I didn’t realize…I would’ve come back for you both if I’d known it was so serious. I could’ve helped. I could’ve taken you in.”
She squeezed his knee. “I know you cared for my aunt.”
“I loved Meg. That’s why I thought it was for the best I stay away. I learned of her passing too late and by the time I found you, you were seventeen, living your life. You didn’t need a vampire hanging around. But I could’ve protected you. I could’ve brought you with me to Erhard’s territory—”
“Erhard?” The name fell from her lips on a harsh, excited whisper.
Scott cleared his throat. “Yes. This is his jet. We are heading to his compound.”
Questions whirled like a hurricane in her mind. Are you a member of his Clan? What’s he like? Do you know why he’d come to the bar? Did he really want to sign me or did he know I was a target? Was he trying to protect me? Is it true he’s started a war amongst the vampires? Sharp, shooting pains splintered her skull as her thoughts raced. She wanted to know everything about the male.
“Relax, J, you’re getting worked up.”
Did he know I was taken? Had Erhard searched for me? She’d been moved so many times, taken from one prison to another, from one auction house to another. Whispers of raids and destruction always followed. Did he come for me? He’d bid on her and won the auction. He’d been willing to pay 1.3 million to have her.
Jordan sucked in a shocked gasp. Her cracked ribs jabbed into her lung and she cried out. Doubling over, she wrapped her arms around her middle. Jordan’s vision brimmed with blackness. Blinking back tears, she saw Scott filling a syringe. Terror swept through her.
She screamed, No needles. Please, no more needles, except no sound came out. She tried again, but a harsh groan was all that rose from her throat. On some level she knew her fear was irrational. Scott had been like a father figure to her once. He wouldn’t hurt her, but…Ross had held her down…forced a syringe into her vein.
“Doctor!” That voice. Low. Strong. Powerful. “What the f—”
“My king, she’s seizing.”
Was she? Jordan’s mind had disengaged from her body. She was on the verge of checking out of the conscious world when his scent invaded her nose. She felt warm, gentle, large hands wrap around her upper arms and then…he was there. Rich, blond hair fell over his brow, casting shadows over his bright, clear, green eyes. His stern jaw was set and his lips were pressed in a hard thin line.
Jordan’s eyes drifted closed. Her last thought as she was swept away: I’ll kiss away his frown.
“What happened?” Gabriel demanded. He’d been gone less than five minutes, leaving Scott to watch over her while he had a chat with the pilot. They weren’t far, approximately another forty-five minutes until they landed in the Nevada desert.
“I think its withdrawals,” Scott said.
Sadly, Gabriel wasn’t surprised.
“At first, I thought it was the pain. I readied some morphine. She saw the needle and…” Scott ran shaking hands through his hair.
Gabriel’s blood flashed ice-cold. “She regained consciousness.” He’d given the doctor specific orders: monitor the mortal’s vitals, provide pain killers as needed, and notify him the instant she awoke. Scott had done the first, attempted the second before she passed out, and failed the last.
I should’ve been the one Jordan saw when she opened her eyes.
Scott’s shoulders straightened, his chin tilted with defiance. “Yes.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. Did the surgeon disapprove of his king’s interest in the mortal? “Don’t allow your past relationship with the girl to cloud your judgment,” Gabriel warned.
“Your Highness, you have my word, I’ll treat her better than if she were of my own blood.”
Gabriel regarded the other vampire for a long moment before muttering, “Good” and dismissing him. Scott bowed his head and turned for the door. He paused, his hand on the knob, and cast a determined look toward Jordan, then closed the door behind him.
Jordan stirred, drawing Gabriel’s rapt attention. Her head shifted on the pillow. Her face pressed against the black sheets. She took in a shuddered breath as if she were trying to sniff the material. On her exhale, tension uncoiled from her body and she was still once more.
Gabriel scrubbed a hand down his face. She’d awakened, indicating progress. But the pink that had tinted her cheeks after he’d given her blood had vanished, the ugly ring of bruises around her throat were glaring and her flesh was ghostly pale, the blue of her veins visible. Her hair, a knotted mass of curls, spread out across the pillows. Dried blood matted her hair and streaked down her hollow cheeks. She was beautiful. Stunning, in a damsel-in-distress-but-still-can-kick-your-ass kind of way. Jordan was a scrapper, but she also needed protection and he had a driving need to be the one doing the protecting.
Wasn’t that the under lying reason he went after her? Yes, he wanted to spare her the torment of being enslaved. Yes, he wanted to end the vile trade and bury Boras. But this unnatural possessive trait she triggered within him was marrow deep, which meant he had to let her go. He’d see her well and have her memories scrubbed. Then, Gannon would make sure she was settled. His Second would offer her a record contract or help her achieve her goal of owning and operating her own yoga studio. Whatever she wanted, she’d have.
But, at this rate, she is going to die.
Shoving the dark thought aside, Gabriel resumed his post—kneeling beside the bed—and grabbed the damp cloth he’d brought in with him. Gently, he wiped the blood from her brow, temples, and cheeks, revealing smooth, creamy skin.
A tiny moan parted her lips when he softly trailed his gloved knuckles along her jaw. He snapped his hand back, terrified he’d hurt her.
Jordan frowned and turned her head toward him as if seeking his touch. When it didn’t return, low, panicked whimpers pushed past her lips and she began to thrash.
Her confused, pained struggle made his chest clench. “Easy, Jordan, you’re okay. Please, sweet,” he beseeched, “your injuries…”
She fell silent and still. Then she opened her eyes. Her gaze was glossy and unfocused as she blinked. “Erhard?”
Her whiskey voice was the best sound in the world. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Is…is this real?”
“Yes, Jordan. You’re safe.”
Her expression softened and she sighed, “With you.”
Gabriel’s brow furrowed and that spark he’d snuffed earlier returned. “Yes,” he said, though her words hadn’t been a question.
Jordan reached toward him and he stared at her seeking fingers. He wanted to take her hand, to clasp it to his chest, to feel that body rocking electric shock that shot through him every time she touched him. But he flinched away and her hand fell back to the mattress.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “Scott. Was he here?”
“He’s just outside. Would you like me to get him?”
Jordan shook her head then pressed her palms flat on the mattress. Using what strength she had, she shoved herself up right. The blankets fell away, exposing her tattered negligee and more.
Gabriel cursed and caught her before she tumbled over the edge of the bed. Taking great care, he closed his arms around her slender waist. She whimpered from the sudden jolt. Worried his touch added to her pain, Gabriel set Jordan against the pillows then abruptly released her. Before he could pull away, her tiny hand settled on his chest and he was thankful to Gannon for convincing him to wash and redress. Gabriel hadn’t wanted to leave Jordan’s side, but she didn’t need to wake to a bare chested vampire covered in blood.
Her nails scrapped the material of his fresh button up. Her fingers began to explore his pectoral and his shoulder. His shirt offered little protection from her touch and its effect. Despite the chill that graced Jordan’s fingers, her caress seared him. Gabriel considered pulling away, but the thought was fleeting. Jordan captured him with her hold-me-forever gaze.
She cupped his face. His lips parted, his breath shortened, and he lowered himself down to sit beside her. God, she made his blood burn. She also confused the hell out of him. Gabriel wanted to take her in his arms again, to hold her. To reassure himself that she was truly here with him, that this wasn’t a dream. She was alive. He wanted to rain kisses over her face and hands…to comfort her? Ridiculous. He wasn’t the comforting type.
Jordan’s hands slipped back to his neck, her fingers locking together, cupping his nape. She pulled herself up and brushed a trembling kiss against his lips. The caress was soft, tender—he’d never known anything sweeter. Gabriel almost groaned as the rush of desire heated his body. The urge to take control, to deepen the kiss was primal.
Yet he’d held back and somehow found the strength to ease away.
Her eyes were still closed, as if she were savoring his taste. Her lips were slightly parted, their perfect bow shape pouting for more and when she breathlessly whispered, “Erhard,” Gabriel knew a dark moment of near uncontrollable lust.
“Yes,” he said, his voice scratching his dry throat.
Her lashes fluttered open and Jordan released his nape to sweep stray strands of hair from his eyes. She swayed and he caught her to him. The thin material of her teddy pressed tightly over the swell of her breasts. Her pearled nipples strained against the material and abraded him with every shuddered breath she took. He swallowed a groan and pressed her even closer. Fuck, she felt amazing and he was a letch for wanting her.
She’s on Death’s doorstep and you’re copping a feel.
He eased his hold, circled her wrists, and brought her arms down. He dismissed the sense of bereavement that swept through him at the loss of contact. He definitely didn’t acknowledge the disappointment that flickered across her face.
“We’ll land shortly and—”
Jordan reached up and twirled a lock of his hair around her index finger. His words caught in his throat.
“Your eyes…they’re beautiful…so warm.”
Gabriel felt a smile tug at his lips. “You’re the first to say such.”
Her eyelids drooped, but she resisted the lure of sleep. “Impossible.”
“Cold is how my gaze is often described.”
She shook her head and cringed. Her body stiffened all over from the pain.
Humor gone, he insisted, “You need to rest.”
“Tell me honest,” she gasped and grimaced, “How bad am I?”
“We’ll get you patched up.”
She swallowed hard then gave a short laugh. Sadness touched her eyes. “Okay, coach, but I’ll need more than a few Band-Aids. Not sure I can just walk this off.”
Gabriel couldn’t stop his smile.
Jordan’s gaze dropped to his mouth and he sucked in a breath. His lips still tingled from her kiss and, god help him, he wanted to taste her. Claim her luscious mouth, deeply. As if reading his mind, her little tongue swept over her upper lip.
She’s human. Fragile. Don’t forget.
He laid her against the pillows once more, but she continued to fight sleep. “Please, Jordan, rest.” When he stood she raised her hand to catch his, but missed.
“St-stay.”
Her breathless plea struck him like lightning. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jordan’s eyes drifted closed then fluttered open. “Erhard?”
On impulse, he reached out and squeezed her hand. “Gabriel, you may call me Gabriel.”
Her eyes closed again. As she slipped into sleep she sighed his name and something within him clicked into place. The spark grew into a flame.