Page 24 of Unbound

“Run away like a big fat scaredy cat?” he suggests. I punch him on the shoulder, hard enough to make him grunt. To remind him who he’s dealing with.

“Once I’d evaded capture. Except that didn’t quite go to plan. I can’t believe Yvonne heard me. I was in the next room and I was whispering.”

“Yeah. She’s an interesting one.” I can hear the smile in his voice and can tell he likes her. A less secure woman would be jealous or hate her for it. Not me. He knows if he so much as looks at another female, I’ll remove his balls with a nail file and force feed them to him.

We’re both quiet for a while, entwined in each other’s arms, snatching the few moments of contentment that our lives are allowing us. “Donna can stay with us,” he says eventually. “If she gets Called while you are away, I’ll make sure she’s not dealing with anything alone. I might not always be able to go myself, but I’ll give Matteo to her.”

I snort in amusement. “I think she’d like that. Though she might not give him back in one piece.”

“Really?” he asks. “You think she likes him?”

“I think she’s intrigued by the idea of vampire sex, and she likes Matteo and trusts him as much as she does any vamp. Things get a little heated after a Call, unless you hadn’t noticed. In my case, literally. So yeah, I wouldn’t be shocked if those two become fuck buddies.”

Luca makes a strange sound, like he’s being strangled, and I look up to see a shocked expression on his face. It’s not an expression I think I’ve ever really seen before. He’s an Old World vampire, who’s been alive since at least the 1600s. I assumed nothing had the power to shock him anymore. “What?” I ask.

“I’ve never known Matteo have a ‘fuck buddy.’ And now I’m concerned that your pretty little blond friend is going to break him.”

“He’s a big boy. He’s a huge boy, in fact. I’m sure he can handle it. Anyway, thank you. If you can help her that would be a weight off. When I’m, you know, gone. Which I’m still going to be. Which I still have to be. I promise I’ll play the dungeon game with you sometime, but Luca, please don’t try and stop me again. I’m sorry I tried to sneak away. That was cowardly of me. But I do need to go.”

He hoists me up, sits me across him, so I’m straddling his lap. His eyes lock onto mine, and he holds the sides of my face with his big palms.

“I know you do. It was just my shock speaking. No regrets, though. We needed that last fuck. And I’ll get the dungeon ready for when you’re back.”

I laugh and twine my fingers into his hair. “That’s so romantic, babe. And how about I go tomorrow instead? I can cancel the flight. Hell, I could skip Chicago altogether, really. Stay here with you for a few more hours.”

He stands upright, keeping my legs wrapped around him. He’s such an incredible mix of grace and strength; sometimes it blows my mind. I cling to his shoulders, and he kisses me while he walks towards his controls. Presses the button to bring the metal gates up. Carries me upstairs to our bed. One more night in the arms of my love. One more night of peace.

Chapter 13

Rosa

It turns out that was too much to ask. A few hours after I finally fell asleep, I sit bolt upright, my brain groggy and blurry in a way I’m used to. I blink, open my eyes, and find myself somewhere else. A suburb, somewhere with mini McMansions and green lawns and the kinds of SUVs that moms use to take their kids to soccer practice.

I catch a street sign. Poplar Way. It’s night, dark apart from the lamps and the glow of TV screens from behind drapes. Woods back onto the development, and they’re alive with vamps. Crawling with them. They reek of hunger, stink of evil, shimmering with excitement at the thought of the damage they’re about to do.

A blur, a fuzz, a hazy moment of transition. I’m somewhere else. It feels different. Not the States. The cars parked outside the homes are all right-hand drive, and it’s raining. I hear two people arguing and recognize their accents. This is the UK. A quiet street, dense with row houses, a huge structure in the background. A children’s play park on the corner. Dark figures prowling, lurking, pushing the swings, and making the metal chains squeal. They’re waiting, biding their time before they pounce.

Another flash forward, or sideways, or backwards—who the fuck knows—and I’m in a totally different world. The warm air smells of the sea, and I can hear waves crashing into land. Mountains shadow the town, and tinny music comes from a small bar. Voices speaking Spanish, laughter and singing. A battered white van is parked outside it, the plates telling me we’re in Colombia. The van is full of very bad creatures. I can feel their hunger, their madness. Their desperation. They want to be out, into that warm night air, into that bar. They want to kill and kill and kill some more. They want to win.

One more turn on the mental merry-go-round, and I’m moving on again. I blink, disorientated, dizzy with it all. I force myself to focus, to look for the details I need. This time, it’s easy. I know exactly where I am. Los Angeles. The view of the sprawling city skyline tells me I’m in Griffith Park. The Hollywood Hills are off to the west, Los Feliz to the south. The park itself is the unofficial home to a whole transient population of its own, living rough or in encampments. There are pumas and coyotes and human predators too—but none of them will be a match for the group of vamps I can see slinking through the hills, bloodlust making them jittery and hyper.

Pressure starts to build up in my ears, and my eyes are filled with lightning bolts, zigzagging across my vision. You’re okay, I tell myself. You can handle this. I have to handle it. I can’t give in to the pain and the panic and the nausea. I have to snap out of this confusion and deal with it …

I’m struggling. It’s like I’m being drowned in an ocean made of cotton wool balls. I know I’m not really at these places, but I feel like I am, as though I am being torn in four different directions, each of them awful. I’m trying to fight my way back to reality, to New York, but my mind is too stressed. Too stretched. It’s like a rubber band about to snap …

“Wake up, Rosa! Come back to me!”

Luca. He’s holding my shoulders, shaking me hard. Last time I had a powerful Call in his presence, I broke his nose. This time, I just stare at him. At his dark hair, his stubbled jaw. Liquid brown eyes, the magnificent silver dragon tattoo spreading its wings over his shoulders. He reaches out, gently wipes my cheeks with his thumbs. I’ve been sleep-crying, it seems, which is just about the most tragic thing I’ve ever heard of. I take comfort from him for a moment, let him hold me and console me and tell me sweet lies—tell me that everything is all right.

Then I jump out of bed, about to run from the room before I remember I’m butt-ass naked. I drag on sweatpants and a long-sleeved T. “I need to get to Donna,” I tell him.

“What happened? In your vision?” he asks, joining me at the side of the bed. Also butt-ass naked. I shake my head. “Too much. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. They were in four places. Waiting, watching. I don’t know if there’s anything we can do to stop it. I don’t know if there’s anything we can do to save those people.”

The door bangs open, slams into the already-damaged wall. Donna, predictably enough, butt-ass naked. Her hair is streaming over her shoulders, and she has her hand on her amulet, like she’s seeking comfort from it. I’ve never seen such panic in her eyes.

She flies into my arms, and I hold her, letting her weep onto my shoulder. I get it. She probably saw the same as I did, and we both know what’s going to happen next. “Oh God,” she sobs out. “Those poor people … all those people! What can we do?”

I hold her back from me, and Luca silently drapes her in one of his jackets. She glances up, and it’s a testament to how upset she is that she neither comments on his nakedness nor cares about her own. She’d normally flirt the crap out of this situation.