Turn: The Kresova Vampire Harems: Aurora Page 6

  God, I hate Morana.

  The evil bitch needs to fry for what she’s done, and for what she’s doing even now to Carver and to Jolie.

  “Are you ready?” I ask.

  Row nods and grips his side just as I have mine. “Three, two, one!”

  We strain at first but nothing budges. I want to scream. Fucking damn it! Of course, we should have brought Lucian with us. There was no way the sarcophagus was going to be an easy entry point for anyone. Morana would be sure that only her own elite guards and assassins could get into it. Hell, for all we know, maybe she had Jolie lower the lid with her freakish strength last time Abe was hidden.

  I’m panting. A vampire that doesn’t need to breathe is panting hard. I only notice because beside me even Row is doing the same thing.

  “It’s not enchanted.”

  I stare at him. “What?”

  “I’d be able to feel or sense if it were. She was good, but she didn’t enchant it shut. Maybe she figured it was too heavy anyway and no one would ever find it. Pride has always been a huge problem for Morana.”

  “You don’t say?” I gasp.

  “But it’s heavy. There’s no doubt about that. We’ll have to do the best we can. It’ll take everything you have so if you’ve been training hard with Lucian and before with Carver too, then you need to reach out to your inner Kresova. All that strength you reign in, especially as a fledgling, you need to get that wild now.”

  I can’t help myself. Sarcasm is my refuge. “So, you want me to go wild with you, Row? What will Reina say?”

  “Oh, ha-ha, I have one tough New Orleans girl. She’s all I can handle.”

  “Right answer,” I reply. Then, I close my eyes. This time when I breathe, I’m doing my best to connect to that wild, savage soul who lives inside of me, the pure Kresova that I’ve only touched in battle or in bed. When I open my eyes, everything’s in a silver haze. When I speak, my voice is low and throaty. So hoarse, I barely recognize it. “Now!”

  We heave together and slowly---damn it---so slowly at first, the top inches off. I dig harder, growling as I do, letting the dark soul inside me run free. Suddenly, there’s no resistance at all, and I cringe when the top spins out of both of our hands and crashes hard against the far wall. It crumbles into pieces, and I swallow hard.

  Row shakes his head. “See, fledges have some brute power they’re just not used to tapping into. You add that with your Dria nature, and I knew we could get you there.”

  My vision is still a filmy silver, and I bare my fangs at him and his. “Hungry.”

  Holding both his hands up, palms flat, Rowland stares me down. “No. It’s not the time for that, Aura. Calm down. You let the Kresova out, now push her back in. We have to think our way through this if we’re going to smuggle Abe out.”

  I hiss again and crouch, readying myself to spring forward.

  Then a crackling blare goes off in Row’s coat. He pulls out the walkie talkie that ties us directly to Reina and to Lucian. It’s her voice I recognize on the other end though, her voice that brings me back.

  “Guys? What the hell is going on? Everyone heard a massive crash down here. I texted Lucian first, and he’s coming down here as a ‘potential investor’ to see how secure the facility is and rant about pickpocketing or some bullshit, but we can’t keep the guards from checking down here for too long. You have to motor!”

  Rowland presses the button on the side. “Getting the top off took longer than we thought. Don’t worry. We’ll feed him, slip in him the spare clothes I have sewed in the lining of my jacket, and get Abe out of here.”

  “Lucian’s already here doing his upset rich guy act, which, hey is even more distracting for the guards than my pissed off American princess act. So that’s good, but you have to hurry!”

  I blink, and my world comes back in normal colors again; no silver haze colors and distorts my vision. Reina’s voice brought me back as it tends to do. That’s what I needed to hear. I’m Kresova, but I’m also Aurora Hedvidge, and I need to think my way through this.

  “Sorry,” I say as Rowland presses the button on the side of his bluetooth, clicking it off.. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s understandable. It’s heady tapping into that side of things. All that matters now is that we feed Abe and get him up and moving.”

  I lean over the coffin, and I have to stifle back vomit. Abe’s too dry to reek, but the body laid out before me is nothing more than a desiccated husk. He looks exactly like the mummy before its resurrected in that old Brendan Fraser movie, like a could breeze might blow the rest of what’s left of Abe to dust.

  “There’s no way. I can’t…how can he even still be alive…undead…whatever the fuck it’s called?” I ask.

  Row shrugs. “He’s the oldest vampire on Earth. If he’s been sending you visions via the psychic hotline, then there’s more to him than we think.”

  I gesture to the tomb. “There has to be. I know my Dria blood has to be powerful, but I don’t know if I can raise the dead. He seems more than just a long sleep to me.”

  “He hasn’t drunken since before the Romans were around. Give the guy a break, Aura. We need you to do this. Please.”

  I close my eyes and bring my wrist to my mouth. There’s no way I expected Abe to be this gone, not when I felt his mind reaching for my own. I’m not sure I can help him, but I have to be strong. The only hope I have---the only hope we all have---is for Abe to rise. We need him. The resistance needs him. Even if I feel like it’s hopeless, I have to try. My fangs tear into my skin and blood drips down my arm; its coppery scent fills my nostrils. It might feel hopeless, but I have to be brave. Carver’s risked everything for this movement. He’s a prisoner even now under Morana’s power, and I have to help him, be the warrior he sees in me already. Lucian’s up above doing everything he can to distract the guards. He’s shown me every day since this nightmare began, especially after Carver was stolen, how brave he is. The least I can do is take my strength from their strength.

  Try the impossible.

  Hell, hasn’t my life been impossible since that vamp bit me?

  Bringing my bloody arm to Abe’s dried, deformed lips, I lay my wrist across his mouth and…Nothing. Panicked, I eye Rowland. “What do I do?”

  “Press harder? I don’t know. You have to keep trying. Aura!”

  No shit. We’re close to having the guards track us down, and the last thing I need is a rival vampire royal line hunting me. I already have Morana’s crazy wrath to worry about. I take a breath and calm myself, focus on Carver and on Lucian. Neither of them would give up if there was still an unbroken bone left in their body. They’d do anything they could. I owe them the same in return.

  I press my wrist harder and call to Abe with my mind. He’s been communicating with me in dreams, and it’s not exactly telepathic, but it is mind to mind. I hope I can catch his attention while I’m awake. Reaching deep within myself, I call to him, Abehartach, please, it’s Aurora. You need to eat.

  He moves so fast then that even I with all my vampiric reflexes can’t follow what’s happening. One minute, his body is lifeless before me, and the next, his jaws are clamped on my arm, his teeth deep in my flesh. My heart doesn’t beat anymore---can’t---but I can feel the force of the way he drains me, the blood ripped from my body. It’s not an erotic act like with Carver, and it’s not the sharing of blood ritual I think other Kresova must share. No. It’s raw, painful, and violent, and it’s sweeping me under with it.

  No! Stop!

  I want to scream, want to pull away, but Abe’s more powerful even asleep for thousands of years than I’ll ever be. If he wants to drain me dry right here and make me the husk, then there’s nothing I can do about it, no way to defend myself. My vision swims and my ears ring. Through the din, I make out someone shouting. My dimming mind thinks it sounds like Reina, but that can’t be possible.

  It just can’t be.

  Then there’s darkness, and it’s all I know.

/>   Chapter 8

  I wake up coughing.

  My eyes dart around as I look into Reina’s familiar, kind eyes. She’s wrapped a torn scrap of the t-shirt underneath her sweater around my wrist. My view is hazy, and my head is pounding, but I’m coming back to myself. She grounds me better than almost anyone else; that’s what a ride-or-die bestie is for, after all.

  “What happened?”

  “You helped save me,” Abe says.

  He shouldn’t look dignified in a pair of discreet, grey slacks and a black sweater. He has Rowland’s coat on as well. While he’s not completely at one hundred percent---there’s grey at his temples and crows’ feet playing at the corners of his eyes---Abe is far from a dried-out exhibit in a dusty museum corner. His flushed cheeks remind me that he’s just fed.

  On me.

  Without a word, he moves to my side and helps me to my feet. Dark eyes regard me with concern and gratitude as he pushes a strand of blonde hair out of my eyes. “I thank you, daughter, for helping me. I, too, have waited long for the Drias to rise as prophecy foretold. Where are your sister queens?”

  Swallowing hard, I force myself to stand steadily on my feet. “This is what we have. The other Drias we’ll find as fast as we can, and one of my consorts is in Morana’s grasp.”

  “And a partridge in a pear tree,” Row says, checking his watch. “We’ve been down here way too long.”

  “You guys made wicked amounts of noise, too,” Reina says. “I hurried down here while Lucian was talking about getting his lawyers in here to talk about ‘fraudulent representation of museum safety’ and that’s keeping them busy but not through a big huge crash…at least not forever. Let’s move!”

  Abe looks at me once more, and something flickers across his face. I hope it’s not disappointment. I don’t know if one Dria, two vamps (only one her consort), and a Goth’ed out human are what he’s expecting. I know we could be a bigger cavalry, but if we don’t run fast, we won’t be anything at all.

  Especially if the Draugurs of Romania get us on their radar too.

  Last thing we need.

  I shake my arms behind my back a bit, loosen the tight muscles of my shoulders. I think of Lucian above me, keeping the guards at bay with a silver tongue and, apparently, some hidden acting chops. Then, like always, I think of Carver. We’re going to save him. Abe’s the key to that, and I’ll have Morana’s head on a pike. I swear it.

  “Then let’s get going.”

  We rush through the back rooms and up the winding staircase. A small ping goes off in Reina’s pocket. Abe’s eyes widen, but I shake my head.

  “Don’t worry, Abe. A lot has changed, but that’s helping Reina talk to Lucian, my consort. What did he say?”

  “The guards and the executive board members all went to the main security office on this floor to review the tapes and bring him proof there’s no pickpockets. Long story short, we have a window to sneak back out to the floor and then book it.”

  “Ready to do that,” Row replies, pushing on the door.

  He takes the lead and Abe follows him, his face and head obscured by the scarf Row had given him. Reina and I follow out the same way, and I shut the door behind myself as gently as I can. It clicks into place and still feels too loud in the middle of a quiet exhibit hall. However, Lucian’s also ranting at one side, pretending to be on his cell to his business manager when I know he’s been using it discreetly to text Reina and keep her in the loop. My heart flutters---well, metaphorically---at the sight of him, and I hurry forward to meet him.

  But my shirt sleeve catches on the alarm.

  It doesn’t go off, but the fabric of my long, white-sleeved shirt tears and gets even more hopelessly tangled over the alarm mechanism on the so-called fire door. “Guys!” I hiss.

  Reina scurries back to me while Row still supports Abe with an arm under the old king’s shoulder. My Dria blood might have wakened him, but he’ll need so much more to be strong. Fuck. Both of us will have to feed soon and, suddenly, I’m way too aware of not just Reina’s pulse as she hovers over me and tries to free me but of every human in the damn building.

  Of how much I’d love to tear right through them and be strong again.

  I force my vision to stay normal, for the silver haze and rage not to overtake me. But even as Reina finishes helping me with my sleeve, a wiry man with a thick, bushy mustache and in a cheaply cut suit coughs in front of me. He smells human, but the guards behind him are vampires, and not Kresova. There’s a subtle difference there, and I must keep myself calm. I still smell like Reina, thank God. If I can bluff my way through this, then we can get to Lucian’s waiting jet. Get our asses back in hiding.

  “What are you doing?” Mustache regards me with disgust, like an insect to crush. Granted, he probably thinks I was trying to steal something. I did. I just bet that the curator doesn’t realize Abe used to be his prized mummy about fifteen minutes ago. “Are you trying to deliberately set off the alarm.”

  “No,” I say. “I got caught on the stupid thing.”

  He eyes the bar and then turns to me. “You, Miss Pickpocket complaints and your other American friend need to get out of here.” The curator squints down at the alarm, and he must notice that it’s red and inactive because he rounds on us fast and gestures for the guards. “Have you been tampering with this?”

  Reina thinks fast as always and starts spinning her lies. “No, and deflection? Hello! My friend ruins her new shirt on your crappy door and you’re accusing her of breaking the alarm. What? With her magic ninja skills. Dream on, stuffy. You still haven’t found my wallet yet.”

  I force a grin and grab Reina’s elbow. “Maybe we can call it even.”

  We back up together and I stop only when a wall of solid muscle is behind me and one of the Draugur grab my shoulder. “She doesn’t smell human.”

  The curator frowns but the rest of the room moves fast. The Draugur besides Mustache knocks him out. Human tourists still left run from the room screaming, and the Draugur behind me, grips me tight. I struggle, but he’s a warrior, probably their race’s answer to the Tiruer, and I can’t knock him away.

  I don’t have to.

  In an instant, Abe is on him and has ripped first his head off and the then other guard’s. He laps at the blood from the neck of his second victim, just a few feet from unconscious Mustache. I shudder as I watch him. A part of me, even now, is jealous and wants some fresh blood too. Most of me is terrified that maybe there’s a chance Abe has gone crazed and feral after all these millennia.

  Is it possible we’ve let something even worse out?

  There’s a lull, as Row takes Reina in his arms and, finally, Lucian’s strong arms circle my waist. His jaw is set in a hard line and his chestnut eyes flash with danger and warning. “King Abehartach, are you all right?”

  Abe drops the dead Draugur and wipes at his messy, blood-stained chin. “I am. Who are you?”

  “Lucian DeFontaine,” I say. “He’s my consort.”

  “And I was running this extraction operation. We were trying to go under the radar, majesty, but we’re in Romania, deep in the territory of the---”

  “Draugur. Yes, I tasted that on their blood,” Abe says.

  “And we have to move.” Lucian sighs. “Luckily, I had a Plan D.”

  The Aston Martin Vanquish gleams a bright silver under the lights lining the darkened Bucharest streets. We shouldn’t have been able to cram five people into it and probably wouldn’t have if Reina wasn’t scrunched up on Row’s lap. She’s screaming loudest of any of us, probably because as the human, she’s the only one who can really be hurt if we crash. I doubt we will. Lucian is driving, his keen eyes focused on the road in front of us even as it winds up hills and through buildings twice as old or older than the entire United States. Abe’s in the back and he’s quiet, and I feel better with him so close to Reina now that he’s fed. He has Dria blood and two Draugur warriors filling him. After that, human couldn’t be very appealing, could it?


  “So,” I start, as I grip the dashboard. “You didn’t trust my plan?”

  “I did, and you got remarkably far, sweetheart, but I didn’t make it through centuries without a plan B, C, D, and you get the idea.” He spins the wheel wildly, and we duck around the side of an ancient, Orthodox church, its large silver crosses gleaming in the streetlights. The contrast of the medieval world with the nightlife of Bucharest. “So, I made sure I had my fastest car for getaway purposes. The jet’s already waiting. We get there, and we can be wheels up in fifteen minutes.”

  “Jet?” Abe asks, his voice low and gravely. I turn to look at him and the wrinkles are no longer there, his skin appears a healthy bronze, and his hair is jet black and sleek. “I do not understand.”

  “It’s complicated,” I say as we race through a stop light. Reina squeals behind me. Concentrating hard, I take advantage of the mental link between us and broadcast an image of a plane taking off for Abehartach to “see.” “Do you get it now? It’s flight.”

  “What marvels,” he says.

  “Yes, King, and as long as Lucian doesn’t splat us, we can all enjoy that soon,” Row says. “Seriously, Lucian, my lover’s mortal. We don’t want to smoosh her and, just because I can survive a car accident, doesn’t mean I want to.”

  “We have to keep racing. The Draugur will be hunting for us by now and…”

  He stopped and slammed on the brakes as the earth in front of us opened up. “Fuck!”

  “I’ll top that with a holy fucking shit,” I say as the ground still crumbles and shakes before us. As we watch, four Draugur warriors step out from the shadows and the ground rocks harder. “I…are they doing this?”

  Lucian nods. “Carver was very precise with how he explained our races to you. The Draugur can manipulate the elements. Not for long, it exhausts them, and they’ll need to drink for days after to feel normal and steady, but in concentrated battle it’s their biggest advantage.”