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BLOOD BOND
By
Jacki Bentley
© copyright December 2006, Jacki Bentley
Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright December 2006
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
"Change, vampire! Change shape!"
Standing in the shadows of his mausoleum home, Thyre du Belvoir narrowed his eyes at the distant words.
A figure ran between the moss-covered gravestones, traveling in sweeping serpentines in his direction. In the descending darkness, he caught a hint of a womanly shape.
He watched for another glimpse of her, his nostrils flared. Something malicious and new to his experience hovered behind her, above her. He'd felt the dark force earlier in the evening and smelled the sulfurous odor of it -- before he saw the woman running to him.
He'd waited for it in silence, with his senses alert, seeking. He'd been unable to glean an accurate reading of the dark thing's location. Experience taught him all he could do was allow it to come to him.
And be ready.
Now, he barely drew breath as he strained to see the woman again, to hear her speak again.
Many years had rolled past since he'd sought out his own kind. Other vampires. Other immortals. Matters tended to get complex too fast when living among those of his kind. One of the keys to staying alive and breathing as many centuries as he had was cultivating the lifestyle of a loner.
His self-imposed isolation brought him eternal days stretching on and on with no one but the cemetery spirits, who occasionally asked him for his help, and his music collection for company.
Of late, he'd begun to think of finding a way to end his solitude.
But, damn, that whole walking into the sun thing hadn't worked out at all. Self-preservation had kicked in big time, causing him to dash back to his cave-like sanctuary to care for his burns.
On his big screen TV--he loved technology--the vamps on Buffy reruns went out of this world in a blink, a puff of gray, bloodless mist. He should've known better than to go by any of the myths by now, after all these years of reading and taking in everything in fiction from Polidori's The Vampyre to all of Anne Rice's work. Unfortunately, he had no other Vampire User's Manual.
"Vampire, can you hear me?" the female yelled again.
Moved to action, he swung open the black wrought iron gate in front of him. The hinge gave a groaning squeak.
The last rays of the sun were gone now.
Her rapid movement flashed again out beyond in the falling shadows.
There. He saw her again.
Long, blood-red hair flowed out behind her as she ran, the kind of glorious red hair that had thick lowlights of black streaking through it. He focused his exceptional night vision on her hair. Her running footfalls, her rapid breathing echoed in the silence around him now.
Her supple legs, encased in black jeans, lengthened stride, doubling her pace, fit muscles rippled with each running stride. She was hauling ass.
As she approached his position, she doubled her effort and moved even faster, leaping over the gravestones like hurdles now.
Her athletic ability surpassed all mortals. Much too fast, even for the natural spirits of the dead who dwelled here with him, darting around at will.
As she drew closer, he saw her large, black eyes. Gloriously feminine eyes they were. Their piecing gaze trained on him, firing his blood with sensual interest.
Lord help him, she was a sight out of a man's fantasies.
His heart stopped in his chest, then jerked to motion again.
She was of the People. A vampiress.
He knew it. Probably had known at the first hint of her female presence in his domain.
Shaken from his numbing boredom, Thyre strode toward her, intrigued, curious, wondering if he could pick up her thoughts.
Damn, he actually hoped he would.
Uncaring that the approaching red-headed vampire female might mean him harm, Thyre slung himself through the old iron gate and ran toward her as fast as he could, his long legs eating up the ground between them.
Even immortal, her lungs were near bursting, her heart straining. He felt the pounding beats in the air around him. No one pushed themselves that hard, human or immortal, unless….
The evil something chased her, threatened her life.
Well, hell, the dark force would have to go through him first. He would not accept her demise easily.
He opened his mind to her completely, not guarding even a corner for himself, seeking any telepathic message from her. That leap of faith surprised him to his toes.
The telepathic communication of the Vampire People in times of emergency had never worked with him and the insane Silvia, the woman who'd made him undead. Silvia had claimed he blocked her, said he feared relinquishing full control to her. True.
Change! Change! the woman demanded again, this time in urgent, snarled mental words.
The two words invaded his mind with driving power and focus. He resisted the urge to clap his hands to his temples.
Shift, damn you! Now!
She closed ground enough he could see her well. God, her eyes were beautiful.
She yelled the words aloud this time, leaping straight upward to become an amazing tropical bird.
"Beautiful," he whispered. Colorful, iridescent and radiant, like a South American quetzal, but not entirely the same either. A bird pulled more from her vivid imagination than nature.
The invisible matrixes that molded her supernatural shielding together around her form had better be as spectacular as she was. If not, some hunter would shoot her pretty tail feathers off in no time.
"Change shape. Shift!" Once again she ordered imperiously, hovering overhead, flapping her wings with rapid-speed like a hummingbird. This time she tried something different to communicate with him, the word was the call of a bird, but he understood.
Now!
His hackles rose. He stopped making his way to her. Spreading his stance and folding his arms at his chest, he glared.
"You are speaking to me, ma chérie?" he asked. No woman had ever ordered him about. Not even the deadly, soul-sucking Silvia. He and Silvia had come to a grudging understanding on that point.
"Who else is the big bad-ass vampire dude around here? Yeah, I'm talking to you. Move your handsome male butt," she said. "Make yourself something that can fly. Now! Fast! Move it! I grow tired of telling you."
Unworried, he smiled at her indignation. Amazing the hell out of him, he found himself aroused by this woman's voice ... er ... hell, bird voice ... as it strummed through his system. She stirred him, even though she was more bird than woman at the moment. The sound of the telepathic messages she so easily transitioned to and from enthralled him as well--and disturbed him.
The rush of adrenaline he'd long forgotten called to him.
"I have not done this in far too many years, little one. I may blow apart in the air around you."
"Shit," she said. "No time for a refresher course, big guy. Clear everything else from your mind. Concentrate."
Why not shift shape and see where she'd lead him?
Centuries beyond fear for his own safety, Thyre flashed to a bat.
A big fox bat. He molded it to several times larger than natural size for the species. Mentally, he gathered air to him, constructing his own supernatural shield matrix of the raw elements in the air. The bone-like, solid matrixes snapped into place around him. Years of practice made it second nature.
She laughed at the sight of him, a tinkling playful, girly-girl sound.
His gut sank. He was far too charmed by this female.
"Funny," she said aloud in bird sounds. "Very funny. A bat. How stereotypical. Almost as much so as living in a freaking ce-me-ter-y." She drew out the last word, enunciating each syllable.
"The neighbors are quiet." He flew into her space, challenging her. "Tell me why I shouldn't prey upon you, ma petite?" he asked.
The look she threw him with her amazing bird eyes was annoyed, with a hint of surprise, but no fear.
"Man, you're even sexy as an over-sized bat, you big jerk. All puffed up and macho. But, hey, if you want to make it out of here alive, you'll get out of my face and fly with me. And fly damn fast." She shrugged. "Up to you. I'm going."
She matched words to deed and burst away from him, dipping and swooping.
He followed, wings spread wide, flying fast and true.
Thyre was rusty at shifting and more rusty at shift speaking. Maybe he'd misunderstood her? Had she called him a big jerk? Sassy thing
"Been a long time since I flew," he admitted, pushing the voice of the bat to her through the night air.
"I know. We researched you. You keep to yourself. Other than solving earthly problems for the new spirits here, you lay low."
"True," he confirmed. "A safe and semi-meaningful existence."
"Right. You mind your own business. That's a good thing, especially these days."
"I haven't shifted or spoken in shift in a long, long time." Since he'd fought alongside his lost friend Sebastian in the American Revolution, in fact.
"Hmmm. You're doing fine with the speaking. I understand you better than most of my vamp friends."
"You said, we? A colony of vampires living together in harmony?"
"Yes. We get along well enough."
At that moment, the hair at the back of his neck rose. He lurched sideways in the air to get a look behind them.
Hellfire! Malevolent. Evil. Darker than I've ever felt before, he sent to her telepathically without thinking about it.
She blinked her eyes. "Duh! Reason I came to save you, big guy. And yelled for you to run for your life at the top of my lungs."
"You ordered me to change, to shift, not to run for my life."
"Hah! Semantics."
"I do not fear the end, little bird, or the wicked humans who try to dispense it to our kind because we are different and stronger."
Her voice deepened with urgency. "You'll fear these bastards plenty, my stud muffin. But don't worry. I won't let them have you."
Surprised laughter burst from him at the certainty behind her promise.
"Usually, I walk up to a client's door, introduce myself. But, shit, they landed right behind me back there. Did you see that? They were tipped off somehow."
In the wake of her fervor, he just watched her a moment. He wasn't sure why this strange, tropical vampire woman cared for his life at all, much less more than he did. What manner of creature could she believe threatened even him? Not that he'd grown arrogant in his ability to survive. Still. He had survived a very long time.
"No. I saw only you? Who are they?"
"Just fly, dammit, and stop the philosophical internal debate. You risk boring me to death."
"You hear all my thoughts?"
"Of course I can."
"Interesting. I only hear the ones you want me to hear. Correct?"
"Yes, true. It's a gift of mine. For some reason, I'm better than the average vampire at telepathy. I can keep what I want secret."
"Better than other vampires, hmm?"
She seemed to nod her pretty bird head. "But I have to say, yours are the clearest thoughts I've ever captured."
He shook his head in amazement. "Why so?"
"I have no idea. Your strength of will. The tight control you have on yourself. Or your ancient blood. Whatever. I was in your mind a bit, but I actually felt a pull when you fully opened your mind to me back there."
"Interesting."
Thyre scanned the surroundings in detail. Their blinding speed had them over Memphis already and flying southwest. His little bird was flagging. Her energy and adrenaline near depletion, she swayed in the air.
"We rest." He slowed to land in a sturdy tree. "You're exhausted."
Without argument, she landed in a branch to his left. The remaining fall leaves rustled in time with her labored breathing. He wished he was in human form so he could wrap her in his arms, protect her.
"We ... we can't afford to rest long," she said.
"Only a few minutes, to relieve your muscles."
"Where do we fly to?" he asked, changing the subject, distracting her. He didn't plan to fly with her far. He'd head back home in a short while, once he learned more about her, her fear, what she ran from. What she sought to save him from.
"Belize. On ... the Caribbean coast of ... Central America. We have a safe house, a compound there. You'll like it, Thyre, my new friend. Got some color to it. Cheer you up. Living in a cemetery will give you chronic Seasonal Affective Disorder. Sitting by the ocean in Belize, you'll get those thoughts of doing your big self in right out of your mind." She flapped a wing much like waving a hand. Hear me? Don't make me be wasting my time.
"You read all that in my mind?" he asked the question, trying to remain casual but feeling embarrassed she knew the thoughts he'd had as he stood in his doorway, of his abject boredom with eternal life. A man did not give up. He was a survivor, not a victim.
"Yes. As soon as I landed in the grove of trees by your cemetery."
"From that distance?"
She turned her head. "Yes."
"I've lived four lifetimes. Why save me, pretty one? Why not let the evil come for me?"
"Real nosy, aren't you? I save our kind, that's why. It's what I do. Works out nicely. Most are duly impressed and over-appreciative. I can see you're a little harder to wow with my skills. I would have shifted and flown away, but I had to get your attention."
"Why?"
Dios! Why what?
He read exasperation in her pretty bird eyes.
Why save you? Oh, get over all of that survivor's guilt, will you? So you've been around forever, and you have no family or friends left.... Blah, blah, blah. I had no family in the first place. You were lucky to have them at all.
I am sorry to hear that. Thyre remained silent a while, had no idea exactly what to say. She spoke the damned unadulterated truth. He often wondered why he still existed and everyone he'd ever loved did not.
Oh, all right, I'll tell you why I came for you, specifically. Every one of us, every vamp, is crucial. In a few years, the pesky mortal humans will discover that our blood platelets practically guarantee survival for cancer patients.
His first thought was, 'Thank God, less fresh graves, less headstones cut prematurely.' Fewer spirits to beg him to resolve things left unsaid to their loved ones.
Right. We'll be revered, cute guy. She lifted her head and continued, As it should be, of course.
"We'll be farmed, little one. They'll catch us, put us in prisons, and cultivate us like cattle."
I have a plan to avoid all that. I won't let them farm us. We'll be in control of our own blood supply. Make it a business.
Speak with me mentally. You can benefit from the practice, she demanded.
His blood surged, laced with a touch of fear for her and a huge spike of sexual desire, on the one hand acknowledging she drew him to her like no other woman in centuries and scared she'd miscalculate the aerodynamics and crash to the ground below like a stone.
A long time had passed since he'd feared for one of his own kind. Hell, since he'd feared for anyone.
I will try. He felt selfish for making her speak aloud so long.
See, not so difficult to do. It's like riding a bike. Much less energy really. Efficient, especially flying as we are. As you reminded me, my lungs are already tired from my life or death sprint.
Smart.
I thought so. It….
The evil is closer now, he interrupted.
Of course they are, she replied with sarcasm.
Her breathing and heart rate had returned to normal.
I'm rested. Let's go, she said.
With that, she vaulted from the branch and resumed flight. He followed close behind her. She turned and flew backwards in an unnatural fashion, undulating her beautiful wings to stay aloft, watching him. She laughed with joy and did a cocky little aerobatic move, reversing her position in the process, now flying forward again.
His blood surged, laced with a touch of fear for her and a huge spike of sexual desire, on the one hand acknowledging she drew him to her like no other woman in centuries and scared she'd miscalculate the aerodynamics and crash to the ground below like a stone.
His heart pounded, but he concentrated on the flap of his wide, webbed wings.
A vampire is not invincible, little one, he growled in warning.
A long time had passed since he'd feared for one of his own kind. Hell, since he'd feared for anyone.
I love your voice in my mind, she told him. Your Southern American accent and French colloquialisms.... Very charming the way you pronounce the word 'vampeer'. Even your thoughts drawl in my mind. She laughed again.
Her voice held power over him too, but he resisted the urge to tell her so. Damn, he'd never been aroused in shift form before. He felt himself imprinting on the woman as he had with no other.
* * * *
After an hour of hard flying, Thyre spoke again, The evil ones carry much anger, a deep hatred for our kind.
Yeah, they're pissed we're getting away from them.
They're not used to defeat?
No, they like to win. They always win. They're pure vamp killing machines. She took a deep breath and propelled herself forward even faster. The rest had renewed her. Good.
Our intelligence told us the enemy has sought you for over a year now. They pursue relentlessly once they learn of a vamp's existence.
"They knew where I was?"
Yes. Took them a while to figure it out. Whatever method they use to find and track us isn't foolproof. They make mistakes and even kill innocent humans occasionally. I had to find you before the black, hulking devils could. There have been stories of you for years. Other vamps thought you were a myth. Or dead.
He laughed harshly. "I am. Both."
Ha ha. You're a flying comedian.
The dark ones are confused, wandering, losing our trail for the moment. Sniffing like dogs.
You can read them that well?
Impressions of their malevolent thoughts mixed with guessing.
Amazing. I don't get anything from them at this distance. You can read them better than I can, and I'm really, really good at it, the best of my colony.
I have no doubt that you are.
I'll be glad to have your hyper senses to help me find other vamp clients to save.
"You speak as if my joining you in your crusade is a given result," he spoke aloud. The sound of it rumbled through the air.
Why not? It's your duty. You owe us now. You are of the People. I sense you care about that kind of stuff. Honor and duty.
He bared his teeth and snarled at her.
She focused her pretty little eyes on him like a laser, undaunted by his aggressive reply.
I smell them, he conveyed. The stench is overpowering, rot and sulfur.
Yes. You haven't encountered them before. Unfortunately, if we live, you'll meet them enough to grow more accustomed to their hideous scent.
That's good news.
Then she aligned herself to fly side-by-side now, looking at him, a serious expression clouding her features. "I wish to hell I could've left you here in peace, Thyre," she whispered aloud this time, her tone sincere. "But they'd have snuck up on you, surprised you, and killed you tonight. They're too good at killing. We need you with us too much to let that happen."
She must have given up on luring him into total telepathic communication.
He shrugged his broad wings. "Maybe I wish you'd left me to that fate also."
"Nonsense. Ridiculous. Get over yourself."
He laughed. "What are these things that hunt us?" he asked after a moment's pause, changing the subject. "They're not human. Not demon either."
"No. No. We, the Vampire People, named them Blastos, as in the death-bringing blaster weapons we associate with their presence. In fact, we have no idea exactly what they are. No one has gotten close enough to them to study them and lived. We know they shift and fly as hideous, malformed vulture things."
He snorted. "They see the vampire as carrion, below prey?"
She blinked. "You got it. Yes, we're lowly road kill. In their choice of shift shape, they're nearly as ironically funny as you are with your bat shape there."
"Where do they come from?"
"Believe me, we've tried to find out but have no idea about that either. They simply showed up a few years ago, as if from outer space."
"I have not encountered them in my extensive travels."
"Right. Centuries of travel. They're new to this world."
"Or newly reawakened," Thyre said, remembering. "The old Zuni legends spoke of a wind creature that attacked from the sky."
"You think they are the same?"
"Could be. What else do you know of them?" he asked.
"We know they have financial resources for food. They're well-paid for their work. I've tracked their money trail for six years now, getting close to a few answers."
"Destruction often has a financial root. So they have human form?"
"Yes. Just as we do," she said. "The info we need most is where they rest, where they sleep, so we can track them, anticipate their movements."
Once again, he sensed the waves of frustration and anger seeping from the evil ones as he and the woman distanced themselves further from the Blatos.
Suddenly, a flash of explosive fire, like a great bomb, lit the darkness. Sound tore into Thyre's ears, reverberating through his skull bones. Light stung his eyes.
He looked for the tropical bird, dreading what he might see. "What the hell was that?"
"Blasto fire," she answered. "Thus the name. It's part noise, part explosion. Too far away to pinpoint and work as it should. They're desperate. We're out of ideal range, or we'd be dead. Lucky it didn't knock us out. Move it. Faster!"
"I know weapons," Thyre said. "Their exact mechanism is unfamiliar to me."
A second blast erupted around them, knocking her out. She began a freefall tumble, her beautiful feathers unanimated now.
"No!" he yelled. "Goddammit."
Thankful he'd made the bat large enough to carry her, Thyre dropped his shields and swooped beneath her, waiting patiently. The timing must be perfect. He let her slight body come to him, speeding his own descent just enough to allow her to fall against him in no more than a kiss to her skin.
Even one bruise on her, he would not accept.
Her weight sank into his back with limp, fine-boned delicacy. He held his breath, wobbled a bit, then beat his wings to steady his flight. It was like carrying a cloud on his back.
"I have you, chérie."
He worked, rebuilding his shield so hastily the matrixes held but were weak in places. He carefully checked her vital signs. Her heart was in tachycardia from the concussive force of the blast, its beat far too fast. He took a deep breath and mentally willed her pulse rate to match the pace of his own. That was all he could do. For several long seconds, her heart still galloped.
Easy, easy, baby. He sent the words to her telepathically. Breathe slow and easy. You'll be okay, I promise you that. You're a tough little thing. Can you hear me, little one? He persisted in speaking to her that way, wanting to revive her before it was too late. He wished he had her name to call her by it.
At last, her heartbeat jerked and then set up a calm rhythm, going back to a steady and strong pounding.
Thank God.
Thyre checked and rechecked the matrixes within his shield now, making them tight as he flew on through the dark sky. Adrenaline gave him renewed strength.
The smell of the ones she called Blastos faded behind him. They tired, apparently much slower than a vamp male by nature. His gut told him they'd not seen the last of the evil ones.
He used his mind to lull her, to keep her asleep, to better maintain his balance under her weight.
Nearing the U.S. and Mexican border, sunrise approached. Thyre realized he had no idea where to go to in Belize, where her vamp colony was.
He needed to take the woman underground and check her out anyway, get her a place where she could rest and wake up in her full human form if she lost control of the shift shape.
He couldn't afford for her to return to even her petite human form on his back while he flew as a bat, even a large bat.
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