Eventide

Part Nine Revenge

“Christ, girl. Be still.”

I frown, expire a huffy breath, and continue to stare at Eli’s angry face. Tense muscles flex in his jaw as he inspects my injuries. With a thumb and forefinger, he tilts my chin and examines both of my swollen eyes. Then with both hands, palms open, he runs them over my entire head.

“Lift up your arms.”

I sigh. “Jesus, Eli, I’ve looked much worse—”

“Lift up your damn arms, Riley. Now.”

With a curse, I raise my arms. Eli slides his hands over my ribs, lingering on the left side. I wince when he presses the area.

“Damn, girl,” Luc says, stepping into my kitchen. “You look like shit.”

I shoot daggers at him with my eyes. He laughs.

“I don’t know,” Noah says, sliding onto the counter beside me. “I think it’s pretty hot looking.”

“You think a Dalmatian in heat is hot looking,” I say.

“Be still,” Eli commands.

I close my mouth and glare at Noah. He wags his brow and grins.

Eli’s face hardens and he gently lowers my arms. “You’ve cracked two ribs. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He disappears down the hall, leaving me alone with my annoying audience.

“So somehow you were drugged,” Phin says, leaning on the counter close to me. In his palm, a small leather pouch. “That explains why you’re so banged up. Talked to Garr on the phone. He swears it’s a potion he’s never mixed before.”

“Yeah,” Luc continues. “Normally, none of these injuries would’ve had time to set in. Not with your tendencies.”

“Especially not with your funky DNA,” Noah adds. He shakes his head, his dreads moving with him. “Sick.”

“I don’t understand,” Gabriel says, his thick Scottish burr sounding out of place in my small Savannah apartment. “Why would they drug you, and how?”

“Her powers exceed even that of most newlings,” Phin adds. “She’s got strength that hasn’t fully developed yet, but it will.” He glances at me. “Whatever sick potion Valerian is concocting, it’s potent. It knocked Riley on her ass. Rendered her almost completely helpless.”

“I am far from helpless,” I say. “And for the record, getting sick of all of you talking around me.”

“So when did Valerian become a freaking scientist?” Luc asks.

“He studied in Spain,” Victorian answers. He has stood in the corner, quiet, until now. “I always knew he was interested in science, but never did I think he’d take such an interest in Gullah potions.”

“He’s learned to manipulate the compounds,” Phin says. “Lethal in the wrong hands.”

“Well, his are definitely the wrong hands,” I say.

Are you okay? You look awful.

Yes, Vic, I’m fine. I look worse than I feel. Promise.

I’m sorry.

For what?

Not killing my brother sooner.

I look at Victorian, and notice the regret in his chocolate eyes. I mouth I’m fine, and smile. Then I glance at the neon-green numbers on the microwave. Four twenty a.m. My stomach growls, a grumbly reminder of how long it’s been since I’ve eaten.

“Damn, Riley, I can hear that all the way from over here,” Noah says. “You want something to eat?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “Krystals. Twelve of them. With cheese. Bread extra greasy please.”

“What’s a Krystal?” Lucian asks.

“Can I take your Jeep?” Noah asks.

“Please, and hurry,” I say. Then I smile. “And thanks.”

Noah grins. “You owe me.”

“Okay, anyone want to go with?” Noah asks.

All but Phin head out.

“I’m sorry we weren’t there to help,” he says to me. “That gang of newlings dropped out of nowhere. Took us all by surprise.” He shook his head. “You should see Darius fight. That…is something not human.”

I smile. “Funny, coming from an ancient vampire.”

Phin frowns. “I’m not ancient. But I am sorry. You could’ve been killed.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” I assure him. “And you had your own fight to contend with. No worries, yeah?”

“Hey Phin,” Luc says, poking his head back through the door. “Can you drive a load? Too many to fit in the Jeep.”

Phin looks at me. “Be back in a bit.”

“Don’t forget to pick up my brother,” I say.

“Will do.” Phin leaves.

Eli returns with the first-aid kit. He sets the white plastic box on the counter, next to where he’d placed me, then rests a hand on each side of my hips. He urges my knees apart with his own hip and draws close, wedging his big body between my legs.

His gaze settles first on my mouth, then lifts to my eyes, where they linger for several seconds. Heat rushes to my inner thighs. In those blue, aged depths, I see more than just anger, more than just irritation because I wouldn’t be still and let him doctor me. I see regret.

And something else that doesn’t make sense. Fear? It makes my stomach plunge, as though falling from an airplane. What could Eli Dupré possibly fear? A few deep breaths, which hurt like hell, purge the nagging feelings. No time for crap like that.

I’m silent as Eli digs through the first-aid kit and pulls out a bottle of antiseptic and a few cotton balls. Saturating the white balls, he angles my head with one hand and dabs at the dual cuts on each cheekbone with the other.

“Ouch-cha,” I say, flinching.

His eyes flash, then he administers my care in total silence.

I let him.

When Eli finishes, he sets the cotton aside and picks up a roll of thick, white cloth wrapping tape.

“Lift your arms.”

I lift a brow, then my arms.

He doesn’t even crack a friggin’ smile.

Grasping my tank top by the hem, he pulls it slowly over my head and drops it on the floor. Although I’m wearing a sports bra, Eli’s eyes dip to my breasts, and they immediately respond, tightening into sensitive peaks beneath the cotton material.

Eli’s nostrils flare and the muscles in his jaw jump. “Hold on to my shoulders, Poe.”

Lifting my hands, I place them on Eli’s muscular deltoids.

“Higher.”

I lift my elbows a bit. “Better?”

He doesn’t say a word, just lifts the edge of the tape from the roll and pulls about six inches loose, then presses it to my side, just under my breast. “This will hurt a bit.”

I shrug. “No prob. I’m used to it.”

He looks up then, that mysterious blue gaze unreadable, unsettling. “Take in a shallow breath and hold it.”

I do, and he begins wrapping.

From just under my breasts to above my navel, he circles a tight bandage of tape. I won’t lie—it pinches. Hell, it hurts. But I remain silent.

Finished, he sets the roll aside and inspects his work, running his hands down my sides.

After a moment, he pushes out a slow breath between his teeth. His eyes meet mine, only inches from my face. “I felt like my insides were being ripped out of my gut, watching you get hurt tonight. Doesn’t matter that you held your own. Do you understand me, Riley?”

I shake my head. “Eli, I—”

Lifting his hand, he scrapes the pad of his thumb over my lip and uses the slightest pressure to urge my mouth open. He angles his head and presses into me, taking in a long breath as he kisses me totally senseless.

My own breath hitches and I drown in the slow, erotic brush of his lips, shoving my fingers through his silky hair and tasting him back. I gasp as my broken ribs pinch.

Eli’s hands graze my taped sides, gently now, and he stills them against me. Warmth from his hands makes me sink into him, but he makes no further moves—only deep, possessive kissing. I can handle that.

“Damn. Thought you were hungry. For food.”

I crack open one eye and stare at Luc, wagging a bag of Krystals. Everyone else has frozen in place behind him. How many people? Seven. Gotta love a close-knit family.

Eli kisses the tip of my nose and pulls back. “You need to eat.”

The scent of deliciously greasy burgers rises from the bag and wafts my way. Suddenly, I agree. “You’re right. Hand ’em over, Dupré.”

You may not be able to see what I do, but I know you can hear me, Riley Poe. Know this: you’re mine. You were always meant to be mine, no matter how long a time separates us. My brother isn’t the only one who has watched you over the years. You now have me inside of you. Not just my brother. I was always stronger than him anyway. You’ll come to me. And when I’m finished fucking you, no other will ever be able to satisfy you. Do you know what it feels like to be forever unsatisfied? No longer able to experience an orgasm? Trust me, Riley. You will gladly come to me. And you will beg to become mine forever.

My eyes flip open and I scan the room. I’m in my bed, alone. Daylight streams through the window. I glance at the clock. It’s close to one p.m.

How in the holy hell is Valerian speaking to me in my head? Now he wants me for a lay? For a wife? Whatever, freak.

As I move, I notice I’m not nearly as sore as I was the night before. I’m not positive if it’s the bandaging job Eli did on my ribs, or if whatever dope I was slipped has finally worn off. Either way, I feel better. I walk to my bathroom and flip on the light. Peering at my face, I even see a difference there. Not nearly as swollen, and my eyes aren’t as black as I thought they’d be. Cool. Fast healer. Good because I don’t have time for bullshit. Especially don’t have time for psycho vampires obsessed with me.

Oh, I’m obsessed with you, all right. I’m not psycho, though. You’ll come to me. I can promise you that, my love. Just wait until you get the news. You’ll come. And you’ll know exactly where to find me. If you’re wise, you’ll come alone. Despite how Hollywoodish that sounds, it’s true. Heed my words. And you should be finding out the details about.…now.

Eli throws open the door. His face is, believe it or not, paler than its usual color. I immediately know something’s wrong.

“What?” I say, panic rushing through me. “Eli, what is it?”

“Estelle,” Eli says, barely above a whisper. “She went missing about an hour ago.”

I don’t wait for an explanation. I ask no questions. No need to. I already know what’s happened. I turn too fast and notice my ribs hurt more than I think they do. I ignore the pain though and hurry to my closet.

“What are you doing?” Eli asks.

“Finding something to wear,” I say. There. A clean pair of cargos. I first go to the cabinet of blades, secure the leather sheaths, and stuff each one with silver. I ease into my cargos, find a long-sleeved shirt, and attempt to pull it over my head. Not working. Shirt too tight. I throw it in the corner.

“Riley, stop,” Eli says, and reaches for me.

“I can’t!” I jerk around to face him and cringe as my ribs pull at me. Anger forces the pain away. “I know where she is, Eli, and I’m going to get her.”

His steely grip on my forearm stops me. “Like hell you are.”

I shake him off and try another shirt, one last time. It’s a little looser and I ease it over my head and slowly pull one arm in at a time. On crooked, but on. I yank on my boots and push past Eli.

He stops me.

“It’s me he wants,” I argue. “I can handle myself. Estelle is almost seventy. She might know how to concoct potions but she can’t handle herself against a strigoi.” I head out into the living room and grab my Jeep keys off the counter.

By the time I make it to the door, Eli is already there. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you walk out of here alone, Riley,” he says. “Hell no. I’m going with you.”

For a split second, I think of my dog and glance around. It takes me a second to realize Chaz is at the Dupré House. Good. Because I didn’t want to leave him again.

Just like I don’t want to leave Eli. Or do what I was about to do.

There is no choice. Valerian will kill Estelle, and he’ll not only enjoy it, but he’ll flaunt it. And he’ll have no regrets. He fears nothing.

That’s about to change.

“Riley,” Eli warns, his eyes locked solid onto mine. He senses something, and his nostrils flare. His body tenses. “Don’t.”

Before the word is out of his mouth, I use the one tendency Julian taught me to use before leaving Romania. I’d not tried it on anyone, save Julian.

Concentrating, I hold Eli’s gaze. I speak to him in his mind.

Stay where you are, Eli. Don’t move. Don’t leave here until after I’ve gone. Your body is heavy, and my will is stronger than yours. You know it. You feel it. The synapses in your nervous system aren’t firing. You’re paralyzed. You’ll stay that way until I’m gone. Until ten minutes after I’m gone.

The moment my words sink in, I can tell. Eli’s eyes glaze over as he stares at me. I know he sees me, knows I’ve used something on him, and that he hears and knows everything around him. He’ll be pissed. I can’t worry about that now. I waste not even a second. I turn and run from my apartment.

Pelting rain slashes in stinging bullets as I kill the motor of the nineteen-foot skiff I borrowed from Bell’s Landing and let it slide onto the deserted beach of the research facility. One of the smaller barrier islands, it was purchased years ago for the sole purpose of using it for the facility. I can’t imagine what Valerian is using it for. Doesn’t matter. He knew exactly what to use to get me here, and it worked just as well as if he had used mind control on me. Grabbing the rear anchor, I plop it into the water and tie it off. I pull the drain plug and jump out.

No sooner do my feet hit the sand than six newlings descend from the trees. I sense them before they drop to the ground. Crouching, I whip out two blades and down two newlings before they attack me.

Surprisingly, I’m not killed.

Ah, you trust me, Riley. That touches me deeply. It truly does. So to show you my good faith and word, I’ll send your beloved surrogate grandmother back to the mainland with a trusted servant. You’ll remain here. With me. Understood?

“I want to see her,” I say, and I glance around, searching for Valerian. Instead, a newling emerges from the palm fronds and scrubs, leading a slow-walking Estelle.

“Baby, why you come here?” Estelle says angrily. “I told dat evil boy you wouldn’t do it.”

I struggle against my attackers. I have to stop and think about what’s inside of me, what grows and changes daily. I’m strigoi. I’m Arcos. I’m Dupré. I’m Gullah.

A deep breath, and I summon all of my strength. Although it takes four newlings to hold me, I knock them all in different directions. I take off, send the last newling sprawling, and pull Estelle into a fierce hug. “Grandmodder,” I say, checking her over. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, girl, yes,” she says, and I can hear the relief in her voice. “I’m fine, now, stop all dat.” She looks at me, her ebony face smooth, her eyes searching mine. “You shouldn’t have come here, dat’s right. You shouldn’t have.”

I hug her again, drawing in the familiar scent of Downy and Gullah herbs. “No way would I let them keep you out here, Grandmodder. No way.”

I’m waiting, Riley. I don’t like to wait.

A newling appears—young, no more than nineteen, wearing ripped destroyed jeans and a leather jacket. Although not morphed completely, his eyes are white, pupils pinpoint and fire red. He looks to be in a trance as he moves toward the skiff.

“No way am I letting my grandmother get into a boat with him,” I say out loud. “Hell no, Valerian.”

He’s perfectly capable, Riley. Trust me. I’ve instructed him to take her straight to River Street. He’ll help her up the dock and off to her home she can go. I give you my word.

“No, baby,” Estelle says. “Come with me.”

I kiss my surrogate grandmother on the cheek. “I can’t.” I smile at her. “But it’ll be okay. I promise. Now go quietly, please. I’m begging you.”

Without another word, the newling grasps Estelle by the arm and leads her to the skiff. As though he’d been around boats all his life, the newling pulls the anchor, plugs the drain, and starts the motor. Estelle’s gaze stays on mine until they’re out of sight.

The moment I let down my guard, something plunges into my neck. A pinprick. A needle. A dart. I don’t know. But in seconds, I’m slipping to the ground…