The Forsaken Page 4

  “Not a good one.”

  I dropped the towel as my head snapped up to the mirror. Just behind my reflection stood the devil.

  I swiveled around to face him, my hands gripping the edge of the counter, but on my side of the mirror no one was there. When I faced my reflection once more, the devil was still there. The bathroom he resided in was dimmer; he brought a bit of darkness with him.

  Because he was perverse, he slung an arm over my reflection’s shoulders and glanced down her shirt. “Not a bad rack, consort.” The devil was being playful. That was so, so wrong.

  “Why are you here?”

  He gave me a look that said, Really? “Can I not visit my future wife? She is quite lovely.” He leaned into my reflection, breathed in her smell. I suppressed a shiver at the sight and rubbed my neck where the skin chilled.

  “It’s good sport, you know,” he said. “Watching you flee from the entire world. How will you die? Who will be the one to do it?”

  “Amusing,” I agreed.

  I heard a faint series of cracks and I glanced up at the source of the noise. A fine sheen of ice formed at the corner of the mirror. Slowly it spread.

  Perhaps even stranger than the ice was that the devil’s presence should’ve chilled me more than it did.

  His arm dropped from my reflection’s shoulders only to wrap around her stomach. Her eyes widened, and I couldn’t be sure if my reflection was acting independently from me.

  His thumb nudged my shirt up and rubbed the skin of my midsection. I’d never considered the stomach to be a taboo area, but the way he stroked my reflection … it seemed way too intimate.

  “You act as though this disgusts you, but I know you are curious,” the devil said, using his other hand to brush along my cheek. “You wonder what being with me will be like.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Oh really?” He pressed a kiss to my reflection’s cheek. A phantom breath brushed against my own, drawing out my gooseflesh.

  The devil ran his hand down my arm. “Your body says differently.”

  “I could never be with someone like you.”

  A wicked smile pulled at his lips. “I assure you, you could. Logistically, it’s really quite easy.”

  Thank God I could no longer blush.

  He turned to my reflection. “You haven’t accepted your dark nature, but it stirs in you. I can coax it forth. I will coax it forth. Then, I think you will find you could be with no other save for me.”

  If he could do what he claimed, I was so screwed.

  He let go of my reflection and backed up. “The powers that be have forsaken you.”

  I shuddered because no matter the lies he might spew, in this he spoke the truth.

  “Just remember—they might’ve forsaken you, consort, but I haven’t.”

  Those words echoed long after he disappeared.

  I haven’t.

  Chapter 4

  I showered and padded out into the bedroom, towel wrapped around me.

  I my eyes landed on the bed, where an outfit had been laid out. I paused. Black leather pants and a skintight black shirt waited for me.

  Even more mortifying, someone had placed a lacey thong and bra next to the clothing. Out of curiosity I walked up and checked out the tags.

  Well they’d at least got my size right.

  I sighed. I was going to look like Lara Croft: Slut Slayer.

  By the time I slipped on the pair of boots that rested next to the bed, someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” I shouted.

  Andre sauntered in, his hair wet from the shower he must’ve fit in between planning the next phase of our escape. The moment he caught sight of my outfit, air seemed to hiss out of him.

  “I think I need another shower,” he said. “A cold one.”

  Okay, not helping. It felt like my ass was eating my underwear and my pants. Guess more than my teeth wanted a bite out of something.

  “Leather, Andre? Really?” I asked.

  “Blame my servants,” he said, but his eyes shined with mischief. I could practically see him making a mental note to give them a raise.

  Andre strode forward, and his eyes already undressing me.

  My body squeaked under his gaze—though that might’ve just been the straining leather—and my skin flared up. That was all it took.

  I backed up, grabbing the bedpost I bumped into. We both heard my slow heartbeat pick up. “People are after us; we have to—”

  “The world can wait,” Andre said. “My soulmate has needs that I only I can satisfy.”

  My hand slipped from the bedpost. Andre came up to me and cupped my face. His thumbs stroked my features. I saw his desire-laden gaze flick to the bed, and my skin brightened further.

  My hands floated to his waist. Chiseled muscle rippled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Cotton, Andre?” I said, rubbing the material. “Why do I have to wear some poor cow when you don’t?” That was real fair.

  “The lady doth protest too much.” He took my wrists and moved my touch down a few inches to the supple leather of his pants. “See? Leather.”

  All rational thought fled me. My hands were dangerously close to things I wanted to get familiar with. I fought with the siren rising in me. If she took over, the deed was as good as done. Which I wasn’t actually against, except that she was capable of taking away Andre’s free will.

  Unaware of my thoughts, Andre leaned in and brushed a kiss across my lips. “Soulmate, I love it that I can affect you this way.”

  “Mmm.” I was afraid to speak. Afraid of the glamour that would ease into my voice.

  Sensing the battle within me, he pulled away. He stroked the side of my face. “I’m not afraid of her, soulmate—she’s a part of you.”

  When I wrested control of my voice I said, “She’ll take things way too far.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I have a problem with it.” Andre’s fangs had descended, and he was making no attempt to mask their presence.

  Heat flooded me as I processed his words, and now I struggled in earnest with the siren. My control over her was getting better with each passing day, but she was also getting stronger.

  Someone shouted downstairs about company, pulling us both from the moment.

  Andre prowled over to the room’s window and glanced out before coming back to me and taking my hand. “You were right, soulmate.”

  “About what?”

  “We need to move. Now.”

  I glanced back at the window as he led me out of the room. “What did you see?”

  “Our enemies encroach.” Andre strode down the hall, and I had to lengthen my stride to keep up.

  “What’s the game plan from here?” I asked instead.

  “There is none.”

  I gave him a sharp look, which he ignored. “None?”

  Now the corner of his mouth tilted up, albeit a little grimly. “Nothing official, anyway. The moment our plans solidify, seers everywhere will be able to pinpoint our location.”

  Crap, he had a point.

  “Wouldn’t they then foresee us arriving in the Isle of Man?” I asked. Those plans had solidified.

  He led me through the mansion back to his study. “Probably.”

  We were so doomed.

  Andre stopped me in front of the door to kiss my forehead. “Trust me in this, soulmate: all is well. I’ll curb my words to protect your mind from seers, but we are not traveling blindly into the unknown.”

  Funny, it sounded like that was exactly what we were doing.

  Tybalt hurried over to us. “Sire,” he inclined his head, “your orders have been carried out. We will meet again at week’s end.”

  Andre slapped him on the shoulder. “You are a good man.”

  Tybalt’s eyes flicked to mine. I could see his uncertainty; he still didn’t fully trust me. “One of your servants waits in the tunnel with those items you requested. Is there anything else you need?”

  “None.”


  “Then keep yourself and the queen alive. Until then.” He bowed and stepped aside.

  The queen … not going to lie, I could get used to a title like that.

  Andre held open the door to the study. Once I’d entered, he followed in behind me. He rounded his desk and crouched behind it.

  “Andre … ?”

  A moment later he reappeared, holding several holstered knives. He set them on the desk before ducking below again.

  Whoa. “Please tell me I won’t need to use that.”

  “I promise nothing,” he said, placing another two knives on his desk. He bent down once more, and when he stood he pulled out …

  “A sword?” Seriously? Images of Andre gutting members of the Elysium Order danced before my eyes. “Wait, why do you even have an armory beneath your desk?”

  Andre strode over to me and began strapping the knives to my legs. “Being the king of vampires is a dangerous position. One can never be too prepared.”

  Clearly.

  Andre slung the sword over his shoulder and strapped the remaining knives to himself. He knelt at my side, checking my weapons to make sure they were secure on my body.

  “If the situation arises, swear to me that you won’t hesitate to use these,” he said, rising to his feet. His hands gripped my arms tightly and his eyes bored into mine.

  I tried to speak, then cleared my throat. “I swear it,” I whispered, though I had no idea if I could actually hold up my end of the bargain. Killing bad guys was one thing, but if the Politia came at me, I wasn’t sure I had it in me to put my life above theirs.

  Andre scrutinized me for a moment, then nodded, seeming satisfied. He grabbed my hand and opened the door that led to the persecution tunnel.

  We worked our way back through the hallway we came in through. Waiting by the next door was the servant Tybalt spoke of. He held what I presumed was our enchantment bag, though you’d never assume magic had touched it. It was made of leather and canvas and looked painfully ordinary.

  This girl was not impressed.

  “The bag contains all the provisions you requested,” the servant said.

  Andre took it from his servant and slung it over his shoulder. His eyes moved to a bank of screens I hadn’t noticed during my first trip through the tunnel. They’d been set into the walls, and judging from the grainy footage, they were capturing the area surrounding the house.

  “What have you seen?” Andre asked the man.

  “Three separate groups watch the house. Most of them have focused their attention on the front and rear exits, but,” he nodded to one of the screens, “In the last five minutes some have staked out the alley.” Our exit.

  “How did they know?” I asked.

  “Seers,” Andre said, studying the screens.

  The servant didn’t bat an eyelash at the explanation. Andre’s employees must indeed be more than they appear.

  I studied the footage. At first I saw nothing out of the ordinary, but after looking long enough, certain details popped out. A row of silver Mercedes, a group of people who glanced in a certain direction a bit too often, bulges mostly hidden by loose clothing.

  “Soulmate.” Andre watched me. “Ready?”

  I swallowed and nodded. We left the monitors and Andre’s servant. A strange thrill filled me as we crossed that final hallway once more. It was back to me and Andre against the world. If this was how I was going to spend my final days, then I couldn’t complain too much. There was no other company I’d rather keep.

  Rather than exiting the final door out, Andre circled the motorcycle.

  I sucked in a breath. “You want us to ride the metal death beast?”

  Andre slid the bag off his shoulder. From inside it, he pulled out two leather jackets. He handed one to me. “If you’re referring to the motorcycle,” he said, shrugging the jacket over his shoulders, “then yes.” He opened a small compartment at the back of the bike and placed the bag inside it.

  I slipped on the leather jacket, noting absently that it fit me like a glove. Now I knew what all the leather apparel was for.

  “My mom would so not be cool with this,” I said.

  Andre shrugged off his sword to put on his jacket, then fitted the weapon back over the leather. “Your mother would also not be cool with you dying,” he said, zipping up the jacket. “I consider riding a motorcycle the lesser of two evils.” He nodded to the helmet resting on the leather seat. “That’s yours as well.”

  I might’ve drooled a little at the sight of Andre in fitted leather. When he saw my starry-eyed look, he grabbed the helmet and fit it over my head for me. Guess I wasn’t moving fast enough.

  He swung a leg over the bike, then patted the seat behind him. “Get on, love.”

  Gingerly I slid onto the bike behind him. I was so going to die. And in leather pants of all things.

  Andre grabbed one of my thighs and pulled me flush against him. “You need to remain this close to me, or else you risk sliding off.”

  Oh, that I could do.

  “Wrap your hands around my waist—beneath the leather.”

  Again, not a problem. I did as he said, letting my fingers run over all the hard planes of his chest. Beneath my hands, Andre’s muscles clenched. He glanced over his shoulder, a sculpted eyebrow arched.

  “What?” I asked, innocently.

  He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “You’re making this hard for me, soulmate. Very hard.” Sex dripped from his words, making my own muscles tighten.

  He pulled a pair of shades out of his jacket pocket and slid them on.

  “You’re not going to wear a helmet?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “That’s a cute thought.”

  “It’s called safety.”

  He cranked on the engine and the motorcycle roared to life. “Does anything about me strike you as ‘safe’?”

  “You’re a horrible role model,” I muttered, leaning into him.

  The punk chuckled at that. Chuckled.

  He hit a button embedded on the wall next to the bike, and the garage door set alongside the barred door lifted.

  He gunned the throttle and the engine roared as we took off, leaving the persecution tunnel. My grip clamped down on him as Andre hooked a sharp left. The tires skidded, and the vehicle leaned dangerously close to the ground. I could already tell I was going to need new underwear after this.

  Andre pulled back on the throttle and tires squealed as the bike shot forward out of the turn. So much for being inconspicuous.

  The motorcycle propelled us down the alley. I squeezed him tighter as the wind whistled through my helmet.

  I chanced a glance behind me.

  Big mistake.

  Several people ran out into the alleyway behind us, pulling out phones and—

  “Gun!” I shrieked. Between the engine, the wind, and my helmet, I doubted Andre had heard me, but even if he had, there was little he could do at this point.

  A moment later a shot rang out. Then another. Over the noise of the bike I could hear screaming. We hadn’t been hit, but someone else might’ve been.

  I closed my eyes, shoving down my rising sickness. They were trying to hit me. Trying to kill me. I doubted that a bullet would lay me out, but it would really, really hurt.

  It would, however, piss me off something fierce.

  The backs of buildings blurred as we sped by them. Another gun blast, another series of screams.

  I could hear cars turning onto the ally, and I didn’t have to look to know it would be those silver vehicles that had laid in wait outside Andre’s home.

  I swallowed back my bile at the thought of getting caught here and now. I had to trust that the man I clung to could get us out of the situation—because at the moment, I was completely useless.

  Where the alley emptied onto a busy road, a cluster of individuals waited, blockading our exit. These guys didn’t look quite so official as those tailing us. They were a little rangier, their face
s a bit rugged and sinewy. On the good-versus-evil spectrum I’d say they canted more towards the wicked side.

  Andre accelerated as we approached them. Guess we were playing chicken. I shuddered at the thought of getting upended from our vehicle. This could get dicey.

  Fifty feet. Thirty. Ten.

  Five.

  At the last possible second, the human wall dived out of the way—though from the slight bounce of the motorcycle, someone didn’t move quickly enough.

  I glanced back in time to see a man clutching a foot, his mouth open in a silent wail. I stared long enough to see him and the rest of his group scatter when the line of silver cars swung out of the alley. Behind them, more individuals exited the side street, chasing after us on foot.

  Good luck with that.

  I faced forward once more, my limbs going boneless. That had been so close. Too close. And we still weren’t out of the woods yet.

  Andre weaved in and out of traffic, though that sounded so … tame. What he did was a violent dance—using his supernaturally quick reflexes to speed up then suddenly drop us into openings between cars. Too bad that pasta still wasn’t agreeing with my stomach. I might be a badass vampire chick, but I was getting green with motion sickness.

  Don’t barf in your helmet. Don’t barf in your helmet, I chanted.

  Cars honked as Andre cut them off. Belatedly I realized that he wasn’t just slipping between cars. He was causing gridlock so that the Mercedes wouldn’t be able to follow.

  At the end of the block a green light switched to yellow. Andre laid on the throttle.

  “Andre …”

  He shouted something back at me, but the wind snatched it away.

  Fucking-A, I wasn’t going to have to worry about our pursuers trying to kill me. Andre would do a perfectly good job of it all on his own.

  The light turned red and the bike sped up.

  I held my breath as we darted into the intersection. Turning my head, I stared down the car barreling towards me.