Fugitive of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 1) Page 10

  “One of your halfbreed Mage gifts is healing?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” He smiled, and his fangs, which were normally retracted, lengthened a bit. Not enough to be gross, but enough to make fear race through me. “But vampire blood has healing abilities.”

  “Ew.”

  “Rude.”

  “Yeah, well that sounds risky. I don’t want to turn into a vampire.”

  “You won’t and you know it. We reproduce just like everyone else.”

  Did he have to talk about sex right now? When he was sitting so close to me and looking so damned good? I was kinda scared of him, especially when his fangs were out, but I was also kinda a moron when presented with a face as pretty as his.

  Freaking embarrassing.

  My arm hurt so bad I’d have sworn it had been amputated. “So you swear I won’t turn into a vampire?”

  “On my honor.”

  I wanted to make a quip about not being able to trust his honor, but something held my tongue. As much as he frightened me and pissed me off, I had a feeling that his honor was important to him.

  More than that—he stuck by it.

  He’d have to, considering that he was the element of vampire society that upheld the law.

  “And will there be any side effects?” I asked.

  “No.”

  A memory flashed in my mind—something I’d been wondering about.

  “Hey.” I stared at him until his gaze met mine, then had to force myself to hold it. “When we were running, you stayed behind me. But you’re fast as lightning. Was that on purpose?”

  “Coincidence.”

  Lie. It was so clear in his eyes. He’d stayed back there to protect me.

  “Okay.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Then just do it. It hurts like hell.”

  “Okay.” He raised his wrist to his lips. His fangs lengthened another few millimeters, and he bit into his flesh.

  I winced, but he seemed to kinda like it.

  Okay, weird kinks ahead.

  I watched, riveted, as he withdrew his fangs. Two puncture marks pearled with blood. He raised the wrist to the cut on my arm and smeared his blood over the wound.

  Warmth flowed through me, followed quickly by a floaty pleasure that was entirely unfamiliar. Amazing.

  I’d never done drugs, but I had a feeling that this was something like how that would feel. At least, I’d pay a lot of money for it, like any addict.

  The flesh at my arm was smeared with my blood and his, but the wound was beginning to knit back together.

  I glanced up at Ares, who was watching me intently. There was something unreadable in his dark eyes. Dark and hot and a little frightening. Whatever it was, it made my skin heat and my breath come quickly.

  He broke the stare to inspect the wound at my arm. Apparently satisfied, he moved to the one at my waist. Having his hands so close to me sent a shiver racing over my skin.

  I held my breath as he ran his wrist gently over the wound. It didn’t even hurt. But maybe that was my distraction and excitement. My waist healed even more quickly than my arm. As soon as it was done, Ares surged to his feet.

  “That should do it.” He stalked away from me.

  The moment was broken.

  I sagged against the chair, grateful. I didn’t have time to be attracted to the guy who held my life in his hands. And it was stupid.

  “What about your chest?” I asked. “You had a cut.”

  He turned back and pulled aside the torn fabric of his shirt, revealing an expanse of muscular chest that was devoid of any wound. Blood covered the surface, but no cut.

  “I’m full of vampire blood,” he says. “I heal myself.”

  “Of course.”

  “You should be creating more blood cells pretty quickly now. You’ll be at full strength in a few hours.” He turned, as if he were uncomfortable all of a sudden, and picked up the phone.

  He ordered room service, asking for anything that had a lot of cheese. And a steak, presumably for himself.

  He hung up and turned to me. “I’m going to call some of my men here. They can scout out the station—see if there are any other entrances that are less guarded.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah. Save us some time while you heal up. Do you need them to bring you anything? Change of clothes, that kind of thing?”

  “No. I’ll conjure what I need. When will they be here?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  Good. That was just enough time. I stood. “I’m going to get a quick shower.”

  Really quick, because I didn’t want to be naked when a bunch of vampires showed up in the suite.

  There was only one vampire I wanted to be naked around, and I knew what a bad idea that was.

  Chapter Eight

  Because I had no shame, I chose the larger bedroom and bathroom for myself. It was a grand affair that entered onto the living room, and I shut that door as soon as I walked in.

  I showered in eight minutes flat. After scrubbing myself dry and conjuring a new set of clothes—this T-shirt featured Bucky, the one-fanged comic strip cat—I went into the main room of the suite.

  Ares hadn’t yet showered, but then, he didn’t have clean clothes.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Much.”

  A knock sounded on the door. He opened it to reveal six vampires. They were all as tall as he was, and almost as muscular, but they lacked the same power. Whereas these guys looked like they could beat the shit out of a biker gang, Ares looked like he could tear the heads off the same biker gang without dropping his beer.

  They filed into the room, their gazes trained on their boss. They had the look of soldiers, which they might as well have been.

  I took a seat on the couch and watched.

  The vampire on the far left stepped forward and handed Ares a duffle bag. “The things you requested, sir.”

  “Thank you, Owen.” Ares took the bag and gave them their orders. They’d scout out the entire area around the clock tower, looking for an entrance that was guarded by less than two dozen demons.

  They nodded, their gazes firm, then turned to file out of the room.

  “You run a tight ship,” I said.

  “It’s best that way.”

  Another knock sounded on the door.

  My stomach grumbled as if it knew room service was here. When Ares opened the door to reveal a young clerk with a name tag reading “Bryan” and a white cart full of covered plates, my stomach grumbled again.

  Bryan wheeled the cart into the room and set up the food at the table in front of the window. My foot bounced as I waited, and my stomach ached. I was ready to pounce on it like a tiger on a gazelle. Or a rat on a block of cheese, more appropriately.

  Ares tipped him and he left.

  “Help yourself,” he said. “I’m going to shower.”

  He went to the other bedroom, and I tucked in, uncovering plate after plate of cheesy pasta, cheese sandwiches, four-cheese pizza, baked brie, and a cheeseburger. There was a giant steak that I left for him. If it’d been stuffed with gorgonzola, I’d have considered it. As it was…nope.

  “Thank you, Ares,” I murmured.

  I dug in, famished after the fight from earlier. By the time Ares made it out of the shower, I’d polished off most of the cheesy entrees.

  He eyed my empty plates. “Nicely done.”

  I leaned back, satisfied. “What can I say? I’m a pro.”

  “That you are.” He sat across from me and uncovered the steak, then cut in. He’d changed into new clothes, but they were identical to the last ones. Dark jeans and a black shirt. I’d bet twenty bucks there was a leather jacket back in his room.

  He looked damned good in his uniform, though. It suited him. And were his eyes a bit brighter? His hair shinier?

  “You look different,” I said.

  “I changed clothes.”

  “No, I mean, your hair and eyes and all that. And you look a bit bigger, too.” It was frea
ky.

  His gaze met mine, unreadable. “My men brought me some blood. It perks me up.” He grinned, his fangs showing. “The bottled stuff tastes like shit, but it gets the job done.”

  “Oh.” Well, I guessed I was glad it wasn’t me. “Hey, what was with your weird sword made of shadow? You didn’t conjure that, right?”

  “No. My father gave me that blade. It’s enchanted to appear at will.”

  “Wow. Neat trick.”

  “I don’t always use it. Sometimes I prefer hand-to-hand. But you clearly have more magic than you use.”

  I jumped. “That was out of the blue.”

  “Not really. We just fought off a dozen demons, and you insisted on using only a sword. Magic would have helped you.”

  “You didn’t use magic.”

  “My speed and strength are basically magic.” The grin he gave me was cocky, but well deserved. “And the shadow blade is more than enough.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I sipped the wine that Bryan had brought, wishing it was Four Roses.

  “Back to your magic. Why didn’t you use it? I can sense it on you. You have it. There’s more to you than just a Conjurer.”

  “I’m a Seeker too.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. You’re special and you know it. But I want to know how special and why you don’t use that to save your own life.”

  Maybe I can’t use it! I wanted to scream. First, I was incapable. I’d never used my FireSoul powers to steal a gift. And second, using it would get me killed if anyone discovered I was a FireSoul. There was a cell in the Prison for Magical Miscreants with FireSoul written right on the door. Cass had stayed there a while, and it’d been bad.

  I wasn’t going to end up there myself.

  “You’re delusional,” I said. “But you look good in your uniform.”

  His brows rose, surprised. Then they lowered. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  I grinned. “Did it work? You’re very handsome.”

  “I’m not falling for it.” His lips twitched. “Though it is true that I am very handsome, it’s also true that you have magic that you’re hiding. And I want to know why.”

  I stretched my arms over my head, yawning. “Wow, it’s late. I’ve suffered a lot of blood loss, and you’re so wrong that it’s boring me.” I stood. “Bedtime. But we’re getting started early, right?”

  From the look in his eyes, I hadn’t fooled him. But maybe I’d gotten a reprieve. “Yes. Be ready at six a.m., and we’ll get a report from my men. We’ll go from there.”

  “Aye aye.” I hurried to my room and shut the door, then leaned against the wall.

  He was getting nosy. And he was too powerful and well-connected to be easy to ignore.

  I reached up and touched the collar at my neck. I was down to two days.

  A shiver raced over me.

  Ares’s suspicion of me might not be an issue if I couldn’t convince the Vampire Court that I was innocent and to take this thing off. Unless I only had to convince Ares?

  That’d be ideal.

  The light under the door blinked out, turning dark. He’d finished his steak. And had gone into his bedroom, it seemed.

  The memory of a slice of cake under one of the domed silver platters flashed in my mind’s eye. I hadn’t had a chance to eat it because I’d wanted to get out from under his scrutiny.

  But now…

  I crept out into the living room. His door was shut, but light shined from the crack underneath.

  The cake was still covered in the middle of the table. I was about to pick it up when a noise sounded in his room.

  My ears perked up.

  Voices?

  I crept over to his door, careful to stand near the wall so he couldn’t see a shadow of my feet in the crack beneath the door. I breathed as silently as I could, straining my ears.

  “What do you mean, evidence has been presented against her?” he said.

  Her? Did that mean me?

  “An eyewitness has come forward,” a woman’s voice said.

  How was she in there? Magic, if I had to bet.

  “When?” Ares demanded.

  “Just an hour ago. He came from the Shadowlands. Said that he saw her kill Marin.” Her voice was very formal.

  “We’re weighing his testimony strongly,” said another feminine voice. This one was just as formal. “But it doesn’t look good for Phoenix Knight.”

  I swallowed hard, sweat breaking out over my skin.

  Someone was framing me.

  And these two women were important. Were they the other sides of the Vampire Court?

  It made sense. They would be the only people to talk to Ares as an equal rather than their master.

  Shit shit shit.

  “I don’t believe that she killed Marin.” Ares’s voice was cold. “I’m convinced the murderer is still out there.”

  “Why would you believe her?” the first woman asked.

  “Because it’s my job to find the truth. As you well know, Magisteria.”

  “You had better be correct. Marin was important.”

  “I agree. You know how much I agree. But this is deeper than Marin. And I will be right. My loyalty to the Vampire Court is unbreakable. We are the foundation upon which our society rests. I would not risk that.”

  The heaviness of Ares’s voice made me shiver. He had a lot on his shoulders, and he respected that.

  My life included.

  At least he was committed to helping me prove my innocence.

  “You have two days.” Magisteria’s voice was so cold that it was obvious she didn’t believe him. “Then her time is up. Non-negotiable.”

  Shit. It was suddenly hard to breathe. And cold.

  “It will be done.” Ares’s voice was so confident that it should have made me feel better.

  But right now, nothing was going to make me feel better. There was someone actively working to frame me. And the other two members of the Vampire Court were definitely not on my side.

  Shaking, I crept back across the living room and into my room, where I fell into bed.

  I was screwed.

  It was one of those dreams that felt real because it had once been real. Even though I knew I wasn’t really trapped in the Monster’s dungeon anymore, my mind was there while I slept.

  The cold dark was too familiar to mistake. The damp stone floor beneath my butt was etched into my memory, as was the sound of the dripping water in the corner and the scuttling of rats.

  “Cass? Del?” I whispered.

  In the dark, no one responded.

  A sob rose in my throat, but I bit it down, afraid for the guard to hear.

  I was alone.

  Which meant this was the time before they’d been captured. I’d been the first child taken by the Monster, when I was only fourteen. The six months I’d spent alone in his dark dungeon cell had been the worst of my life.

  I would never experience anything that terrible ever again.

  Except in my dreams.

  I tried with everything I could to escape the nightmare, but I was trapped.

  Here, I was always trapped.

  Footsteps sounded outside the door. I pressed myself back into the corner, trying to become invisible. If I could sink into the stone I would. I’d become part of this terrible dungeon if it meant I could escape whatever was outside in the hall.

  When the door creaked open and light flooded into the dark cell, my eyes went blind. It’d been days since I’d seen light.

  “Time to go.” The gruff voice belonged to the mean guard. The one who held my arm too tightly and hissed threats in my ears. He liked doing that. I could sense it, and it creeped me out.

  I surged to my feet despite the fear that wanted to keep me pressed against the wall. I’d learned the hard way that resistance didn’t work. It just made him meaner. And I was a skinny fourteen—not able to fight and still unable to conjure a weapon. Though my mother was an excellent Conjurer, my skills were slow to dev
elop.

  How I wished they’d been faster, that I could conjure a sword and plunge it into the gut of the horrible man who would drag me to an even more horrible fate.

  On leaden feet, I approached him, my limbs rebelling but my mind forcing them to work.

  My will was stronger than my fear. It always had been.

  “Come on, now,” the guard barked. He gripped my arm in a fist, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

  He dragged me down the hall, walking almost too fast to keep up with. When he threw me into another, larger cell, my heart dropped.

  No. I shuddered. Not this again.

  Sometimes they took me out to bathe. That would not happen today.

  A man lay strapped to a table in the middle of the room. He was about my parents’ age, with mousy brown hair and magic that smelled like a forest fire.

  Behind him, the Monster stood. He wore a fancy suit and had the face of a banker—totally nondescript and boring.

  Terrifying.

  I knew what he was capable of. And that made him terrifying.

  “Are you ready to use your gift?” The Monster’s voice was so precise and sharp that it could slice lengthwise through a hair.

  “I don’t have a gift,” I squeaked. Sweat began to drip down my back.

  “Lies. You are a FireSoul. You will embrace your gift.”

  My eyes darted to the man, who’d begun to struggle. He knew what I’d have to do in order to embrace my gift.

  Kill him and steal his magic.

  I shook my head and backed up.

  I would not kill that man. I could not.

  “You’ll do it, or we’ll kill your mother,” the Monster said.

  There was so much honest promise in his voice that a sob tore through my chest. I hadn’t seen my mother since they’d stolen me from my family months ago. They’d taken her and my father as well.

  Last time the Monster had brought me to this room, he’d threatened to kill my father if I didn’t do as he said. That time, I’d been unable to kill the man on the table. I’d vomited and passed out.

  When I’d woken, the Monster had shown me a vision of my father being run through with a sword.

  Because of me.

  I trembled where I stood, the Monster’s gaze burning into me. It flayed my skin from my bones.