Everdark

Part One Tainted

Da Island, Gullah

Off the coast of Savannah, Georgia

mid-September

“Hold her down!”

Fire ripped through my insides, through my veins, under my skin, deep into my muscles, and I thrashed against the three pairs of strong arms trying to hold me still—I didn’t know why or who they were. I didn’t know where I was. I saw nothing but blood behind my eyes, streaks of crimson blurring my vision, and my head pounded with each sluggish thump of my exaggerated heartbeat. I knew only pain, and I wanted to get the freaking hell away from it, out of the tangled arms trying to restrain me. “Get the fuck off me!” I gritted through my teeth. Their grips tightened. The air was smoldering hot all around me as if it poured from a five-hundred-degree oven. It made the burning inside my body even more intense, and the heavy scent of salt and rotted sea life wafted to me. I wanted to puke.

“I liked it better when she couldn’t move,” a voice I knew but couldn’t place said sarcastically. It had a slight French accent.

I kicked out hard and caught someone on the jaw with my heel. A muffled curse and laughter reached my ears. I didn’t care. I was in friggin’ agony, and getting out of it was all that mattered. I fought harder, growling and spitting. An all-consuming hate filled me. I felt it through my skin, all the way to my bones. Finally, I broke free. I scrambled on all fours but didn’t make it far. Someone’s full body slammed me into the scorching sand, and I lay there, trapped, under the crushing weight—in anguish. I swore, but the sound came out muffled as coarse grains pushed into my open mouth. Whatever was on top of me was squeezing the breath out of me. I coughed. Air had a hard time getting back into my lungs. I wheezed.

“Ease up, Zetty,” another familiar voice said. “You’re pushing her face into the sand. She can’t breathe.”

Zetty? What the hell? An unfamiliar, guttural sound came from the weight trapping me. I bucked, or tried to, anyway.

“Here, give this to her,” another voice said. “Fast.”

“You give it to her, Bro.”

I heard a muttered curse, then felt a sharp pinprick in my ass. I bucked again, hard. I screamed, but it was no use. I lay there in the sand, with a big, heavy-ass Zetty stretched out on top of me as I cursed and wailed, until a drugging, calming haze swept over me, pulling me down. The pain eased, my lids grew heavy, and, finally, shadows crowded me, claiming me. I knew nothing else, and that was freaking fine by me. For however long, I slept.

A breeze drifted over my skin and across my face, and I cracked open my eyes. I anticipated pain, and that unbearable burning, but thankfully, there was none. My vision was blurry, but long shadows fell over me, accompanied by the cooler temperature of the afterlight, making everything around me hazy.

“Hey, you.”

Only then did I notice strong fingers interlaced with mine, and I turned my head and blinked several times until Eli’s face, lit by a kerosene lamp, came into focus. Dark shadows melded against perfect, pale skin, and the contrast made my breath catch. Had I ever feared him? Even now, it was hard for me to imagine his face contorted into the monster I knew he could become. He bent closer, and I inhaled his unique, drugging scent. “Hey,” I said, my voice scratchy, sore, and broken. “What happened? I feel as if a train hit me.” I did, too. My whole body ached, down to the bone—almost to the cellular level. Grinding my teeth together, I noticed grit. Sand?

“Yeah, sand,” Eli said, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “And your body aches because Zetty threw his full weight onto you. Damn, he’s one big Tibetan.” I found a bottle of water pressed to my lips. “Rinse and drink.” I did. Eli then leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine. A thrill shot through me, and my insides fluttered as the pressure of Eli’s lips settled, moved, tasted, caressed.

Possessed.

The pressure eased, and Eli pulled back, his darkening gaze fastened on mine. The small silver hoop still adorned his brow, and I decided I seriously liked it. “You fight like a wildcat.” The corner of his mouth tipped upward into the sexiest grin I’d ever seen. He nuzzled my neck. “Turns me on,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I bet it does, freak,” I said lightly. I laughed, shaking off the erotic shiver that coursed through my body at his seductive words. A powerful surge of desire for Eli gripped me, and, to be frank, it sort of took me off guard. It was strong. And not just midtwenties, hotblooded American girl, horny strong. It was powerful as hell.

Eli’s striking blue eyes darkened even more, turning almost stormy in color as he stared down at me. “It’s one of your tendencies,” he said, and he stroked my bottom lip with his thumb.

“What is?” I asked, shivering.

“Your extreme horniness,” he answered proudly. “Definitely a perk, not that you had any problem before—”

My hand over his mouth stopped his words, and I grinned. “You’re in big trouble now, Dupré,” I said, my voice raspy, deeper than usual, and I slipped my hand around his neck, pulling his mouth to mine.

“Promise?” Eli whispered against me.

“Oh yeah,” I said, and parted his lips with my tongue, kissing him deeply. A thousand sensations blasted through me at once as an intense, almost unbearable heat pooled between my legs. In the next second, a burst of power exploded from my body as I grabbed Eli, flipped him over, off the makeshift bed of pillows and quilts, and onto the hard-packed sand. A small grunt escaped his throat, and for some reason, I liked that. I pinned him beneath me, my legs straddling his waist, my crotch grinding against him, my knees digging into the coarse sand and my hands trapping his above his head. All in under three seconds. Swear to God.

Eli Dupré did nothing more than smile. And it was a wicked, wicked smile.

With such speed I surprised myself, I gathered both of his hands in one, and before my brain even registered my actions, I was reaching for his button fly. I wanted him, and I meant to have him—yesterday.

The dark glimmer in Eli’s eyes meant he was going to let me.

I had three buttons undone, my hand inside his jeans, and a low moan emitting from Eli’s throat when a voice interrupted.

“Whoa, girl,” Phin said, way too close. “Not in front of the children, huh?”

“Yeah, dude. Get a room.”

Laughter erupted around me, deep male chuckles mixed with squeaky adolescent ones.

In the next instant, my body left Eli’s, and I was lifted and settled hard on my feet, outside the open-air tent in which I’d been attacking Eli. I turned, and a small flickering campfire cast amber light into laughing green eyes filled with mischief. “Yeah, Sis. Especially not in front of the children. That’s just ... gross.”

I leapt and threw my arms around my brother. “Seth!” I said, burying my face against the strong column of his neck. It was the first time I’d seen him since, well, before. When he’d been in transition, before his almost-quickening. “Oh my God, I’ve missed you!” My heart literally pounded with sheer joy. I had my brother back! I squeezed tighter, and happiness shot through me.

Seth’s long arms hugged me tightly, and he lifted me off the ground. “I missed you, too, Ri.” A small crack in his voice let me know just how emotional my little brother really was.

I hugged him for a long, long time and, finally, after drawing in his familiar scent, I pulled back and looked at him—really looked at him. Bare-chested, barefoot, and wearing only a pair of low-slung black board shorts that hung to his knees, he seemed . . . different. Way different—not the teenage brother I’d known a month before. Without even thinking, I touched his face, then his jaw. Pushing aside the dark sweep of hair from his forehead, I felt the growing muscles in his chest, the rocks carved into his stomach. I turned him around and checked out his lean back. His normally pale skin was tanned from the sun, and, just below the board shorts, I saw a strip of colorless skin where his tan ended and his white butt began. Just as fast, I turned him back around to face me. I blinked. He hardly looked like my baby brother. It wasn’t that he looked older or anything. Just . . . different. Can someone look wiser? I stared at him. “You’ve changed, Bro.”

“Right?” he said proudly, and gave himself a quick glance. “I’ve been working out with Zetty and the guys.” Then, his face grew serious, his eyes somber, and worry lines gathered between his brows. “Are you gonna be all right?”

For whatever reason, his concern worried me. I glanced at Phin, Luc, then Eli, before turning back to Seth. “Of course,” I assured him, and punched his arm. “No prob. I feel better already, just seeing you.” I did, too. It seemed like forever since I’d seen him. Normal, that is. If you could call what we’d become normal. I stared at my brother a little more. Something struck me, deep inside—a twinge. My gaze moved from his face to his throat, and there it lingered. The pulse of his heart barely lifted the skin there, keeping in sync with the beat as the blood pulsed through his veins. I became transfixed, staring at that spot. Inside my body, seemingly just beneath the surface, I quivered.

Seth studied me a few seconds more, grinned, and draped an arm over my shoulders. “Good. So, you wanna hang?”

“Probably not a good idea,” Eli said, glancing at me before meeting Seth’s gaze. “Not alone, anyway. At least, not for a while.” He gave me a slight smile. “Still working out a few kinks.” He pulled my arm. What was wrong with me?

“Yeah,” Luc said with a laugh, giving me a twinkling-eyed look. “Kinks. That’s what they call it now. Kinks.”

It was only then I noticed the others. Phin, Luc, and Josie stood behind Seth, along with several of the teens who’d been on the verge of become newling vamps.

“Smokin’ hot as usual, babe,” Riggs Parker said from the small crowd. He pushed closer, his shaggy dark hair hanging across his eyes. With a quick flip of his head, he whipped his hair aside. “I’ll work the kinks out with you, Riley.”

Luc smacked Riggs on the back of the head. Everyone laughed. Riggs merely shrugged and grinned. “Can’t blame a dude for tryin’.”

So Riggs had made it. Still a freaking little pervert, and cocky as always, but he’d made it. I noticed the same pulsing point at his throat that I’d noticed on Seth, but I shook my head and forced myself not to fixate on it. I glanced around at the familiar faces, and some new ones, and then looked at Eli. “So, what is this? Some weird vampy version of Lord of the Flies ? Or Vamp Camp ?” Then, it hit me, and I scowled. “What kinks?”

“Whoa, time to go,” Luc said, and gave Riggs a push. “I think Eli can handle this. Come on, guys. Ricky’s got some ’splainin’ to do. Estelle has dinner ready, anyway.” With a series of shrill whoops, the Lord of the Flies boys, all bare to the waist and wearing various colors of board shorts, took off with Luc. I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what dinner was going to be. I glanced around. Zetty stood, arms crossed over his big chest and his eyes trained on me. I’d never seen Zetty dressed in anything except his traditional Tibetan clothes—a long red yak wool wrap and baggy black pants tucked into short leather boots. He now wore, like the others, a pair of baggy board shorts. His were red. The handwoven, multicolored sheath crossed his bare chest, encasing the traditional Nepali knife he never went anywhere without. He didn’t say a word. He, too, had a pulse point that drew my attention. His hand slipped up and covered the spot; then he glared at me. His shiny black brows were furrowed, and the unique red and yellow tattooed squares and dots that marked him as a once-Shiva follower sat stark against his tanned forehead. They made him look unapproachable; scary. And I’d apparently done something to piss him off.

Seth pulled me out of thought and into a tight hug. “I love you, Ri,” he said against my ear. “Swear to God, I’ll never leave you again.”

That boy always could melt my heart. I hugged him fiercely back. “You won’t have to,” I assured him, even though his concern really concerned me. I pulled back and studied him. “Now go. Eat. I’ll be right behind you.”

Seth held my gaze for several seconds. “You probably won’t be, but it’s okay. I’ll be there when you’re ready.” He smiled, presenting a sincere, winsome look that made him seem mature beyond his fifteen years. Then he turned to Zetty. “Let’s go, Zet-Man.” The two took off up the beach, Seth’s tanned body alongside Zetty’s, well, huge one, melding into the afterlight. I stared after my brother, my jaw dropping in wonder at the speed at which Seth ran—and how Zetty could almost keep up. The mystical man from Nepal had a long black braid that whipped from side to side as he ran. I stared until my vision blurred. “Whoa,” I muttered, and shook my head. “Weird.” In the distance, I saw another campfire, larger, close to the shore, its orange hues and blue sparks reaching toward the darkening sky. A small figure huddled close to the flames. Squinting, I made out the colorful fabric patches of Estelle’s familiar billowy skirt.

A nervous twinge gripped me. Something was up. I was purposely being kept apart from everyone. I wanted to spend time with my brother, and I missed my Gullah grandparents. “What’s wrong with me?” I asked Eli. The look in Seth’s eyes had disturbed me.

Strong arms slid around my waist from behind, and Eli pulled me against him tightly. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his lips close to my ear. I shuddered and leaned my head against his chest. “Tell me,” I said. “Everything. I can’t remember anything except waking up on Da Island, unable to move. And I don’t even know how long ago that was.”

Eli sighed and held me tighter. “Your body is going through d.t.’s, sort of,” he said. “Your recovery is going a little slower than we’d hoped. “You’ve been here almost two weeks.”

Damn. I’d lost two weeks out of my life. “D.t’s? From what?” I asked.

“The Arcoses’ venom. It has tainted your blood.”

“Seriously?” I asked, and, swear to God, my blood at that moment suddenly felt several degrees colder.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he said. He cocked his head and studied me. “You don’t remember me taking you to Da Island, after Bonaventure?”

I thought, then shook my head. “I guess I don’t.”

Eli nodded. “I’m glad. You were not in a good way, Riley. We had to contain you and the others, and staying in the city would have been risky. So we brought the almost-newlings—you, Seth, the others—to Da Island for rehab. You got the worst of it since both Arcoses infected you. Although your blood and their venom were mixed for only a short time, it was long enough for you to become addicted to it—intensely addicted, from the moment they bit you. Your body craves it now, and there’s no way to tell how long it will last. You’ve been in d.t.’s the whole time with only short periods of lucidity. Like now.”

“Is that what was wrong with me a few minutes ago?” I asked, my throat tightening at the thought. “I . . . was staring at the pulses in Seth’s throat, in Zetty’s, Riggs’. As if I wanted it. Wanted their blood.” With the pads of my fingers, I pushed against my closed eyes, then looked up at him. “So you’re telling me I could snap at any second like some animal? Attack Seth? That’s what I’d felt a second ago. As if I wanted to jump on him.” I shook my head. “No freaking way, Eli. I want it out of me.”

Eli gripped my shoulders and stared sternly at me. “Preacher has been working crazy hours to flush your system safely. The side effects are . . . extreme. Out of control.” He turned me around and stared down at me. With his thumb, he grazed my jaw. “Riley, you will always carry some of their DNA. And that makes you more than a little unpredictable. But I can handle you. We will work through this. Together. I won’t leave you alone for a second. Understand?”

I watched the play of firelight dance across his features, noticing how it threw parts of his face into dark shades and jagged planes. I would always have a little Arcos in me? That bothered the hell out of me. At least the d.t.’s would eventually go away. I didn’t like eyeballing my brother’s arteries. “The pain?” I asked, remembering the torturous feeling that had gripped me into a feral insanity. “Will it come back?”

Eli nodded. “Yes, it will. It’s not over yet,” he said, and I could plainly see how much he hated telling me, or rather, how much he hated that it would happen. “I hate it way more than you can imagine,” he said, reading my thoughts. “It kills me to see you in agony, and that I can’t do a goddamn thing about it pisses me off even more.” In the firelight, his eyes darkened dangerously, and I knew then that to be on Eli Dupré’s bad side could be a frightening thing. Luckily, he liked me.

I pushed aside my mounting fear and braved a big fake smile. “Don’t worry, Dupré. I can handle it,” I said, and slipped my arms around his waist. “Easy peasy. No prob. Just make sure I don’t hurt anyone.”

With a muttered French curse, Eli shook his head. “Always a badass, huh, Poe?” he said, then cocked his head at me and smiled. “I truly dig that about you.”

“I know you do,” I answered, and grazed his lips slowly with mine. Then, Eli kissed me—the kiss possessive, hard, erotic—and for so long I lost my breath. At some point, I lost consciousness—as in totally passed out. I’d like to say Eli’s intense, passionate kissing/making out rocked my world so hard that I fainted, but only later did I realize what had really happened, and for how long.

Nightmares plagued me; hunger plagued me worse. I crawled around on all fours, lunging and gnashing at anything that happened by. Heartbeats thumped all around me, and I could hear blood rushing through vessels. I wanted it. I needed it.

I fought to get it. I didn’t care whose it was.

The big one had to have a lot; I could smell it, almost taste it on my tongue. Like a cat, I waited; he grew close. I leapt, wrapped my legs around his waist, and used all my strength to hold him still. I wanted what pumped through his veins. Hands grasped me; voices yelled. I was pulled off. I thrashed; my body writhed; on all fours I scrambled away. My senses alerted me to another—a smaller one—but the resonating whoosh-whoosh of the substance I craved pumping through his body beckoned me. I crouched, then lunged, wrapping my whole body around him to prevent escape. Something coldcocked me in the head—in the fucking head! I flew back, my prize released, and I hit the ground hard. Air left my lungs. My head throbbed. I lay there, seeing nothing but darkness and stars. My chest rose and fell. My heart barely beat. Stillness washed over me. I was unsure whether I was sleeping or dead.

I wasn’t dead; I’d learned a lesson. Pretending to be asleep, I waited for another to come to me; the hunger inside me roared as I sensed his approach. Why wasn’t anyone giving it to me? I’d fucking get it myself. I waited. He drew closer. His breath brushed over me, leaning close. Quickly, I wrapped my legs around him, grabbed his head, and found his throat with my mouth. I held fast, with my teeth and body. Something was wrong, though. There was no rush of blood; no thump-thump as it beat through his body. Weakened, I allowed him to shake me off. I hit the ground, and he landed on top of me. He held me down; at first I thrashed. He allowed me to. Drained as I was, slumber claimed me and pulled me into darkness.

A cold sweat awakened me, and I bolted up out of my sleep. Vague flashes of horrifying dreams crossed my memory, but not in full. As if I were watching an old reel of film on fast-forward, bits and pieces of scenes broke into my vision. They came so fast, I couldn’t tell if I was even in them. I couldn’t even tell whether they were dreams I was remembering, or reality. My breath came fast, as though I’d been running; yet my heart pumped slowly, sluggishly, almost inhumanly, and I could hear it echo inside my head like a deep, bellowing gong. I glanced down at myself. Only a pair of panties and a tank covered my body. All else was bare. My inked dragons burned, as though literally searing into my skin, my back, my arms, as if they were alive. It was nighttime. The sky was an eerie blue hue, darkness surrounded me, and a slight breeze wafted through the gaping front of my tent. It grazed my skin, and it cooled the burning. I craved . . . something. To eat? I wanted it badly, with the same intensity of having the freaking munchies after a toke party. But I didn’t want corn chips and soda. I wanted . . . steak—very, very rare steak. I moved to get up but was stopped.

A strong arm snaked around my middle, and only then did I realize Eli sat behind me on the makeshift quilted bed. We were still on Da Island, I supposed. With his legs on either side of me, he cradled my body and pulled me against him. After a few seconds of trying to figure out where the hell I was and what was happening, I relaxed and rested my head against his chest. The craving was still there, but it eased.

“What’d I miss?” I asked, vaguely thinking how odd it was not to feel his heartbeat at my back. Eli Dupré was a creature of the afterlight. He didn’t have a heartbeat. But he did have heart. I snuggled into his warmth—well, as much warmth as a vampire could have, anyway. I snuggled into his lukewarmness.

“About another week,” he admitted, grasping my hands, pulling them to my waist, and lacing his fingers through mine. “You had me seriously worried this time, Riley.”

“I don’t remember,” I said, and turned my head to the side, looking up at him. His face was lost in shadows. “The last I recall, you were kissing me, then ... nothing. And I don’t like having chunks of my life missing. So tell me.”

Eli let out a deep sigh—funny, since he didn’t need lungs or air to breathe—and tightened his arms around me. “You did pass out, but not for long. When you came around, you were wild. Bad withdrawals, Riley. Crazy-bad, as in mad-dog, foaming-at-the-mouth, rabies-type withdrawals. I could barely restrain you. You had night sweats, day sweats, chills, and you pretty much tore up Estelle’s camp. That pain caused you to make sounds I’ve never heard a human make before.” He brushed his scruffy jaw against my cheek. “You were like a newling, having the strigoi blood inside you. It was torturous, Riley, and I never, ever want to hear it come from you again. I felt . . . as if it were happening to me.” His lips grazed my skin, and I shuddered at the intimacy. “I felt hopeless. Never again, baby.”

“I remember flashes of weird dreams, as if I were attacking someone,” I said, struck by his endearing name for me. It was the first time he’d used it. I stared into the darkness. “Jesus, tell me I didn’t attack someone. What else?”

“You kicked my ass—that’s what else,” he said, and I could feel his grin, his teeth, against the skin of my neck.

That should have caused me a little fear—especially since I had flavor-of-the-month-for-vampires blood. But, it didn’t. “Strong as a freaking horse, you are, woman,” he continued. “Phin, Luc, and I had to take you to another island, just to keep the others safe.”

I turned in his lap and stared in the vicinity of his face. “What?”

Eli’s low, soft chuckle filled the night air. “We had to leave Da Island before you hurt someone else. We’re close by—just another barrier isle. We had to put a little water between you and the others.”

“Someone else?” I asked, almost shrieking. “I can’t believe I attacked anybody. Who did I hurt? Are they okay? Oh my God, tell me it wasn’t Estelle.”

“Shh,” he said, tugging me backward. “Lie still and relax, and stop squirming all over the place. Everyone’s okay, and no, it wasn’t Preacher or Estelle.”

“Who?” I demanded, but allowed Eli to settle me against him. “I need to know, Eligius. Tell me. Now.”

Again, he chuckled, so it must’ve not been that bad. “Let’s just say Zetty won’t cross you again for a while. At least, not without a few more protective charms from Estelle. Neither will Riggs.” He laughed. “Jack and Tuba won’t come near you without a blade. And I think the Romanian swear words were enough to damage all of them for life. Nasty language, Riley. Seriously—freaky-filthy.” He nuzzled my neck. “Good thing no one else knows Romanian. I know it, though. At least the curse words. And I like it.” He nipped my skin. “I got the worst of it, though. I guess because I stayed by you.”

I sat up again and turned toward him. “God, you’re a perv. Come on. What did I do to you? A two-hundred-year-old wicked-tempered vampire?”

In one quick move, Eli picked me up and turned my whole body around, then settled me in his lap, face-to-face. “Besides beating the holy hell out of me,” he said, resting his hands on my hips, “you tried to drain my blood. Not that I have any—but that didn’t stop you.” He rubbed a hand over his throat. “Damn, my neck is still sore.”

I closed my eyes, mortified. “I’m sorry,” I said, and looked at him. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Freaking weird, huh?” Luc suddenly said, ducking into the tent. Phin followed. “You were like, on vamp crack or something. Went after throats as if there were no tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Ri,” Phin said. “Wrapping those long legs around your prey. Like some weird spider monkey or something. You’d make one badass strigoi, that’s for sure. Eyes all wide and scary, teeth gnashing.” He shuddered dramatically. “Scary.”

“Like, Underworld badass,” Luc said, then studied me. “Pretty hot, though.”

“Too bad I didn’t turn on you,” I said, thinking it vaguely funny that they, vampires themselves, thought it was all, well, funny. I narrowed my gaze. “Watch your neck.”

Luc laughed. “Don’t worry.”

Phin squatted down and looked at me with a grin. “If you ever get tired of being with an old man”—he inclined his head to Eli—“you know where to find me. I dig kick-ass chicks with long legs and tats.”

I shook my head. “You’ll be the first to know.”

I was silent for a moment, then cleared my throat. “Okay, so here we are, on another barrier island, isolated, with unpredictable teeth-gnashing scary me in my freaking panties, straddling your brother. How ’bout a little privacy, huh?” I said, then turned to Eli. I couldn’t see his features—just his silhouette; his very beautiful silhouette. “Is it safe yet?” I asked him.

“You mean, are you safe yet?” Luc corrected.

“We won’t know for sure for a while,” Eli said, “but I think I can handle it. Luc, Phin—get out of here.” Eli’s hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer. Fire shot through me.

“Are you sure, Bro—”

“Now,” I said. It was more of a growl.

Eli’s brothers laughed and, just as fast as they had appeared, they disappeared into the darkness. I didn’t stare after them; I didn’t wait to see if they’d actually gone. Fact was, I didn’t care. They could stay and watch for all that it mattered. What I wanted—desperately needed—was right in front of me; rather, beneath me. Obsession to take him claimed me.

I eased down, shoved my fingers through Eli’s hair, and pulled his mouth to mine with more force than I’d meant. The desperation to have him crushed me, frightened me, made me breathless, reckless, and, thank God, his craving matched mine. As if we were starved, our mouths met hungrily, taking whatever was being offered. Eli’s hands eased up my side, palming my breasts through the thin cotton tank I wore. Unsatisfied, I slung his hands away, yanked the thing over my head, and threw it aside. Thankfully, Eli wasn’t wearing a shirt. His hands were on me again, skimming my bare skin, my ribs, my back, caressing my breasts, and I savored his mouth as though tasting an exotic flavor for the very first time. Hot and sweet, our tongues and mouths slid against one another, the slick friction an aphrodisiac that nearly made me lose my mind. I lifted a hand to our melded mouths, slipped a finger between our lips, and felt his tongue tangle with mine. I groaned at the sensation, then felt Eli’s hands skim my spine, cup my buttocks, and pull me hard against him. Again, I groaned.

“I want you inside me,” I whispered hoarsely, breathless, running my palm over the hard ridges of his abs, lower, groping. I dragged my lips across his neck, to his ear. “Us. One. Now.”

I quickly found myself hard on my back. A whoosh of air escaped my lungs, and, before I could catch my breath, his nimble fingers had grasped my panties and ripped them right off me. The sound of ragged material cracked the still night air, and the roughness excited me. Filtered moonlight reflected off Eli’s eyes; a dangerous gleam that sent a thrill through my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grabbed him by the neck, and pulled his mouth down to mine.

I don’t know when Eli lost the board shorts he was wearing, but I was damn glad for it. Skin to skin, his just a fraction cooler in temperature than mine, we melded. As he pushed into me, I groaned, dug my heels into his ass, and gasped as he moved, seductive, possessive, wild and out of control.

A slow, tumultuous orgasm built from somewhere deep within me, growing in strength, making me struggle for breath as it peaked, and crashing over me in shuddering waves until my body shook. I wanted to sink straight into Eli—into his soul. I buried my face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around me; total bodies embraced, limbs entwined, and his shudders rocked me as an orgasm wracked him, too. With his mouth at my ear, his full lips dragging seductively across my skin, he whispered, gasped, spoke unknown words in French, muttered my name, and clung to me as though our lives depended on it. I felt him so deeply, I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began. Eli made me feel more vulnerable than I’d ever care to admit. And it scared the hell out of me.

Without words, Eli pulled me up, cradled me in his arms as he lay back, and together we drifted, content; I couldn’t remember ever having felt so thoroughly absolute. To the feel of his strong fingers dragging softly against my skin, I allowed exhaustion to claim me, and it pulled me under in a swift, shadowy, slumbering wave. I hoped that if this was an isolated moment of lucidity, I’d remember it later. I mean, damn.

In the dark recesses of my subconscious, I cherished Eli Dupré as though we were spending our very last moment together.

Three days later . . .

“We’re not stopping until you get it right.”

I glared first at Eli, then at my opponents: Jack and Tuba, two young, healthy, very large Gullah guys—both heavily muscled and bare to the waist. Tuba gave me a closed-mouth smile. Jack’s face remained unreadable. “I am freaking doing it right,” I said, the words coming out between clenched teeth. I bent over at the waist, grasped both knees with my hands, and breathed—hard. We’d been at it for hours. The sun blasted down, not a single cloud in the sky to filter its strength. Sand gnats buzzed around my head. I swatted at them irritably, stomped my feet, then rose and pushed the sweaty bangs that had escaped my ponytail off my face. Maybe I was PMSing. I was irritable as hell and just felt . . . bitchy. “How much more right does it have to be, Eli?”

“Blades seized and bodies down.”

“You’re freaking crazy,” I muttered under my breath.

He smiled.

I swore loudly in Romanian—a nasty habit I’d unwillingly and inadvertently picked up after having been bitten by those two strigoi Arcos assholes. “Are you freaking kidding me, Dupré?” I kicked the sand, said a few more choice expletives (one day I’d have to learn what they exactly meant—for now I just knew they were bad, and that made me feel better), then walked toward the surf, hands on hips. The salt water licked my bare feet, the crushed shells and coarse sand abrasive between my toes and against my soles. The low-rise board shorts I wore were navy and black, as was the string bikini top—too damn dark for midday, that was for sure. The material sucked in the sun’s sweltering rays, literally frying my hineisca and boobs. No lie, my ass was on fire. I rushed into the water, dunked under, and emerged. Water rolled off my skin. I may have even seen steam.

“Are you going to spend the rest of the afternoon whining, or are you going to get it right? They both have their weapons, Riley. You have to do more than jump over them,” Eli said, now standing in the water, arms crossed over his bare chest, and with a look so smug I wanted to throw him into the surf. One dark brow—the one with the silver hoop—lifted. He’d read my thoughts again. “Really?” He chuckled. “Come on, Poe, if you think you can take me.”

I turned, rushed, dropped to a crouch, shot my leg out, and swept Eli’s ankles, leaving behind an arc of water. Without looking, I knew I’d gotten him; I’d heard the splash and curse as he’d landed. I ran directly at Jack and Tuba, who, for the most part, stood, stunned at what I’d done to Eli. I grabbed Jack’s blade, leapt, pushed off his shoulder with one bare foot, and as I flipped over Tuba, I relieved him of his blade, too. I landed on my hands and feet in a kick-ass, impressive crouchingdragon position—all in under five seconds. I flipped my head cockily, swinging my sopping wet ponytail out of my face, and found Eli’s gaze penetrating mine. We stared for a handful of seconds. A burst of pride filled me at my conquered tendencies. God—I’d felt so . . . Matrix -y. And it felt good. Maybe being tainted by strigoi DNA wasn’t so bad after all.

“Again,” Eli said, still sitting in the water. “You didn’t take them down.”

“Screw you,” I replied with a grin. “I took you down. That counts for both of them.”

Jack and Tuba laughed.

With lightning speed I kicked out and swept both of their ankles. Two very large Gullah guys hit the sand. Still crouching, I flung their blades hard. Each stuck in the sand no more than an inch from their crotches. They both made a noise that highly resembled a tire with an air leak. I rose, brushed my hands off on my ass, and turned toward Eli. I grinned.

He stood, sunlight reflecting off his bare wet skin, and swaggered toward me. He bent down to pick up a shell, and I caught a glimpse of the family crest I’d inked between his shoulder blades, just before all hell broke loose. Not only was it sexy schmexy as hell, but his brothers now wanted one, too. I’d created a gang—a vampire gang. How exciting.

Eli made his way toward me. I was surprised that his shades had stayed on after I’d knocked him down. Wet board shorts clung low on his hips, those sexy lines of muscle on his sides and abdomen that disappeared beneath the waistline; I noticed every detail, appreciating them all. And he knew it. With long fingers, he shoved the loose wet hanks of dark hair from his face, put his hands on his hips in a total cocky-guy manner, and, his shades still on, stared down at me. I waited; I didn’t have to wait long.

The corner of his mouth tipped upward. “I’m impressed.”

I nodded and pushed his shades up onto his forehead. Pale blue eyes regarded me. “Turns you on, doesn’t it?” I said.

“Hell yeah,” he answered in a quiet, seductive voice meant only for my ears. In a possessive grasp, he draped his hands over my hips and pulled me close. “But Jack and Tuba are mere mortals. Estelle could take them, with the right training. I want to see”—he shook his head—“I want to know you can handle yourself against a vampire, or a handful of them, if I’m not around, Riley.” His eyes turned serious. “So, from now on, you train with me, my parents, my brothers and sister.” He tapped the end of my nose. “And maybe with Zetty.”

With the palms of my hands firmly pressed against the hard muscles of Eli’s chest, I pushed. “If you think for a second I’m going to seize blades and kick to the ground your sweet, elderly parents, you are insane,” I said. “Your siblings, sure. Zetty? Absolutely. I owe him, anyway. You? Any day of the week. But your parents? No way.”

Eli grazed my jaw with a knuckle. “Oh, you will, chérie . I promise you. You’re ready. And tomorrow, we go back to Da Island.” He grinned, making himself seem more like just a regular hot guy at the beach than a nearly two-hundred-year-old strigoi vampire who had the capability of snapping someone’s spine in half with barely a flick of his wrist. “And I’d pay good money to see you call my parents elderly to their faces. Neo.”

I couldn’t help but return the cocky grin at Eli’s reference to my new Matrix -y capabilities. I had no idea what I’d ever do with them, but one thing I did know. Seth and I, while changed with supertendencies, couldn’t stay on Da Island forever. I had a business to run. Seth had to finish school. We had lives to return to—and the sooner, in my opinion, the better, even if it did mean kicking some old, sweet-looking Dupré strigoi vampire ass.

A few days later . . .

It’s strange to think of all that’s happened over the past month; to grasp how much I’ve changed. Stranger still, that I’ve accepted it. I’m not a huge fan of change. Once I’m used to something, I like to stick with it. Not that I had any choice. I was damn lucky to leave Bonaventure that night with my life, instead of a new unlife. Seriously. Having both Arcoses sink their fangs into my flesh, squirt their disgusting venom into my blood, and still walk away alive? Eli had saved me; he’d killed Valerian, and nearly Victorian, as well. Preacher told Eli that half a minute longer and I would have either died from blood loss or turned completely strigoi, neither of which I had a hankering for. The screams of those innocents who’d been attacked that night still resound inside my head. Visions; flashes of bodies twisted, distorted; blood; the sound of bone snapping—I wish like hell I could forget about it, forget the sound, forget them. But I can’t. I don’t think I ever will. I’ll hear those screams inside my head until I die. And now even that would be a very long time.

So much of what happened after Bonaventure is still a blur. You know, after I was two bites to the wind and lying in a pile of graveyard dust. Once I’d been taken to Da Island (and after I’d briefly awakened), I fell into the throes of strigoi venom d.t.’s for much of the time and was, according to Estelle, one crazy-eyed white girl. She wasn’t referring to my Caucasian race. Eli had told me I’d turned white, as in literally opaque white. Weird white. Night of the Living Dead white. Zetty’s exact words, in his unique Nepal accent, had been You was one scary crazy white bitch . I believe them, too. Ole Zetty, to be such a big, frightening, knife-wielding Tibetan, was as superstitious as they came, and he gladly carried the pouch of graveyard dust and crushed black cat bones Estelle had given him. He even wore it around his big thick neck, tied to a leather cord. I guess he thought throwing the mixture at me, pouch and all, would keep him safe. He’d done it more than once, after I’d attacked him. Estelle had told him she wouldn’t give him any more if he couldn’t use it right. I still laugh when I think about it. Can’t say I blame him, though. I’d have been scared shitless, too.

A breeze blew in off the water, rustled the canvas of our tent, and brushed over my bare body. I turned to stare outside, into the varying shades of gray and black as darkness hung over the small barrier isle, and Eli’s arms tightened around me and pulled me close. I knew he wasn’t asleep; he pretended, though, just for me I guess. There were times I just lay awake, my thoughts rambling around in my head, and Eli simply let me. No interference, no smothering—just let me have my thoughts, allowed me to ponder the changes in my life, my brother’s, without interruption. He was there if I needed him, or if I grew frightened, and I have to admit it was something I could get used to real fast. After Mom’s death, I’d always had Preacher and Estelle, but never had I allowed a man inside my heart, and I damn sure never depended on one to comfort me. I can’t say for sure that I’ve let Eli; but it was definitely worth considering. Commitment of one’s heart and soul—literally—required a lot of deep thought. The problem was I’d had so much to think about and consider lately that my brain was on total overload, and, to be frank, I was a little intimidated to commit myself to a man who would most definitely outlive me. Sure—it’d take a lot longer, now that I had tendencies. Still, it was a lot to ponder.

The sounds of the tide’s ebb and flow blended with the bubbling oyster shoals close by, and the crackle of palm fronds split the night air as the storm that had been threatening since midnight picked up strength. No rain—just wind, thunder, and streaky lightning that occasionally flashed the dark sky. I lay in the semiwarmth of a vampire’s embrace, his hard, perfectly shaped body wrapped possessively around mine, and I couldn’t think of any other place I’d rather be right now. Sharp, salty air assaulted my senses; a scent I loved and drew fully into my lungs. I picked up another scent—faint, farther away, and I smiled as I recognized Preacher’s tobacco. It was weird how one of my vampiric tendencies was a caninelike sense of smell. Gilles had said it was because somewhere along the Arcos vampire family tree a loup-garou had come into play. So I not only had strigoi venom floating around inside me and permanently attaching itself to my friggin’ DNA, but werewolf slobber, too. I hoped to God I didn’t start lifting my leg and peeing on bushes, or worse—humping legs. Christ Almighty damn.

The pipe tobacco drifted to my senses again, and I smiled. No doubt Preacher had sneaked outside to smoke, out of reach of his wife’s broomstick. Estelle would whack him for sure if she caught him. Root doctor, conjurer, or not—Preacher was still susceptible to mortal diseases. I thought so, anyway.

See? My thoughts rambled from vampire venom to Gullah tobacco smoke to wives smacking husbands with broomsticks to werewolves humping legs to cancer, all in the matter of minutes. I was brain fried. Or, I suppose, some would call it Southern fried. Whatever that meant.

I needed a walk, a breath of storm-salty air—a good lung-burning run—to clear my thoughts. I shifted, eased off the quilts, but Eli’s strong arm stopped me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, nuzzling my neck with his scruffy chin. “Can’t sleep?”

I turned my head and pressed my lips against the strong, corded column of his throat. “You know I can’t, faker. I just want to go for a run along the beach.” I slid my palm along his bare hip, then over his chest. “I’ll be back in a few, okay?”

Eli groaned—a sexually frustrated noise that stirred my insides. “Hurry.”

I kissed his Adam’s apple. “You’re a prince. I’ll be right back.” I rolled off the quilts, blindly grabbed the short cotton dress I wore over my swimsuit, and pulled it over my head and bare body.

“Thought you weren’t modest,” Eli said. “No one on this island but us. You could run naked.”

At the tent’s open doorway, I turned and looked at him. Arm bent, head propped on the heel of his hand, Eli watched me like a hungry wolf. I grinned. “I trust your brothers about as much as I trust Riggs. They’re all pervs. I’ll be right back.”

Eli’s laughter followed me out into the night.

I ran, and I ran hard—no warm-up jog, no stretching—I didn’t need a warm-up; just a full-out, haul-ass run from the moment I stepped out of the tent. Sand and shell bits, and probably an unfortunate fiddler or ghost crab or two crunched beneath my bare feet as I tore up the shoreline, and the faster I ran, the more invigorated I felt. It took a lot for my lungs to burn any more, so I ran on as if I could literally run forever, fast, furious, my thighs and calves pumping, my arms swinging fiercely. It was . . . freeing—well, almost freeing. My mind still ran rampant, and my heart, well . . . It still chugged sluggishly along, in complete contrast with my body’s motion. I’m not sure it would ever pump fast again. Weird. I felt adrenaline, but you’d never have known it with my body’s response. Preacher and Gilles said it was the strigoi venom—a side effect that would never leave me; just one of many, so they said. I’m still discovering them. Right now? I didn’t feel like attacking anyone. I didn’t seem to have a craving digging at me from the inside out. I wasn’t sure if that was because I was on this barrier isle alone, with just Eli, or if it meant I finally had run the d.t.’s course. Still, the discovery of each and every strange tendency was sort of like opening presents at Christmas. There was always something you didn’t expect. Sort of like how I was involved with a family of guardian vampires whose own DNA had been altered by centuries of hoodoo herbs and magic; it still boggled my brain to see Eli out in the sun, in the middle of the day, looking like the rest of the world. Well, minus the fact that he was painfully beautiful. You know what I mean, though—Hollywood’s concept of vampire’s doesn’t quite cover what’s really out there. I hadn’t once seen Eli rise slowly from a coffin, or even wear a black cape with a red lining. My vampire needed only a good nap during the day to function. His skin didn’t catch on fire in the sunlight and he not only ate food, but peed—if he drank a lot of beer. Weird.

I wasn’t sure exactly how big the barrier island was that we were on, but I ran around it three times before I stopped. I walked into the surf, the water lukewarm as it lapped at my thighs, and I stared out across the darkness, toward the open sound. There was the tiniest sliver of moon; everything was in shadows except the white, bleached-out sand. Heat lightning (I’m not sure if that’s the scientific term for it, but it’s what Seth and I called it growing up) followed the rumbling thunder and snaked across the black sky in thin silver web threads, and it would throw just enough of a surreal glow over the area to let me know what was out there, beyond the sand, water, palms. Inside my head, my mind whirled.

Victorian Arcos concerned me. I hadn’t heard his voice in my head since that one time, when I’d first awakened on Da Island after being rescued from Bonaventure. I’d not mentioned it to anyone—not even to Eli. Just knowing Victorian was alive and free scared me. I wasn’t scared of him—not physically, anyway. Not anymore. It was a different type of fear; maybe even fear of myself, and my response to him. I didn’t even like to think of it, or him. Unavoidably, I did. He was obsessed with me, and his last words to me were a solid promise to come for me. He might not be in the vicinity, but he was still here. I could feel him. And that freaked me out. He possessed a mind control over me in the dreams that made me respond to him in a way that I loathed. Swear to God, I couldn’t help myself. And one thing I hated was not being in control of my actions and thoughts.

As I dug my toes into the wet sand, I thought of everyone else in my life, and how my changes would affect them. Nyx was beside herself with worry, for me and Seth. As far as she knew, I was fine; it was Seth who’d needed me, after his supposed drug addiction. It was the only thing we could tell her. Seth hated it because he was so adamant about never being on drugs; we’d had no choice. I’d left Inksomnia in Nyx’s very capable hands while Seth and I both spent time recovering. I hated lying to her; she was my best friend. But no way in hell could she ever handle the truth. And even if she did ever dare to believe in vampires, I could almost imagine her running around, hugging them all and thinking a little love would cure their barbaric sickness. If anyone could hug a vampire into being nice, it’d be Master Hugger Nyxinnia Foster. But I trusted only the Duprés in regard to creatures of the afterlight, and receiving Nyx’s hugs. God, I missed her. She missed us, too, and wanted us home. Hopefully, that’d be soon. I suppose since I hadn’t tried to suck anyone else’s blood out that my withdrawals had finally come to an end. Thank God. I was freaking sick of all the ups and downs. It was like going through the midlife change, only with vampirism.

Strong arms encircled my waist, breaking my rambling thoughts, and, unlike my old, prevampiric-tendencied self, I didn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, so why is that?” Eli said, his lips close to my ear. “Why don’t you flinch?”

I rested my weight against him. “Because, you nerd,” I said teasingly, “not only can I smell your scent two miles away, but I can hear you coming. I also heard you lay that quilt on the sand over there.”

“Hmm,” he said, his voice low, seductive, one hand leaving my waist to skim over my hip. “Hearing me come is quite a unique vampiric tendency.” Slowly, erotically, he slipped his hand lower, beneath the hem of my short cotton beach dress, and dragged his palm up my hip. His body tightened behind me, and he buried his mouth into the crook of my neck. “Christ, Riley,” he said, his hand skimming my bare skin, his voice deepening. “Running commando these days?” Both hands found their way beneath my dress, and my head fell against Eli’s chest as the sensation of his palms gliding over first my thighs, hips, abdomen, then lower, came over me. He pulled me against him, held me tightly, and his hardness throbbed, pressing into my lower back. Vampires had to be, hands down, the horniest creatures of any light. Fine by me. As his mouth moved over the sensitive skin of my neck, then my ear, I lifted my hands, grasped his jaw, and threaded my fingers through his hair. The soft, wet brush of his lips caressing my skin turned me on almost as much as his palm cupping my bare, pantiless bottom. Aching for him, I squirmed a bit against his hand so that the sensitive nub would touch the right callused spot, and sensations raced through me as I succeeded. Before I came, he pulled away, lifted my dress over my head, flung it somewhere behind us, then turned me in his arms, and lowered his head until his mouth covered mine. With both hands holding my head in place, he kissed me, tasted my tongue with his, and slowly, he began walking me backward, deeper into the water. We stopped moving when it reached our waist, and although I couldn’t see Eli’s face in detail, I saw the silhouette. He watched me, silent, his hands moving softly over my jaw, chin, cheekbones, grazing my lips. The heat lightning overhead crept across the sky like the fine strands of a spiderweb, and, in the brief second it flashed, I saw Eli’s eyes. They were fixed on me, dark, filled with a craving that caused me to shiver with eagerness.

“I’ve never wanted another as much as I want you,” he mouthed against my lips before tasting them. “I’ve waited for you my whole existence, and I never thought for a second that I’d get so lucky.” He kissed me, his full lips dragging over mine, our tongues brushing. His hands grasped my hips; his fingers dug into my flesh, I gasped, and he lifted me.

I wrapped my legs around him, the water making our bodies slick, and I slid down his abdomen until his rigid hardness nudged me, entered me, completely filled me. His hands splayed over my buttocks, pulling me tightly against him, preventing all thoughts of escape, and he kissed me again. Hard. Demanding. Possessive. I nearly came again.

Without any more words, Eli moved through the water, back to the shore. At the quilt he’d laid on the sand, he followed me down and kissed me as slowly as he made love to me. The only time I could see him was when the lightning flashed, and even then for only a split second or two. But I felt him, inside me, surrounding me, and I knew then that making love with Eli was unlike any other experience I’d ever had, or would ever have. He reached a place so deep and hidden within me, that it frightened me, and I wasn’t prepared to name it yet. I clung to him as we climaxed together, beneath an almost-moonless September night in the sand on a random Gullah barrier island. When our movement slowed, Eli’s hands searched first my body, then my face, and he held me close, pressing his lips to my ear.

“You’re mine forever, chérie ,” he said, his accent thicker than usual. “I want only you.”

Before I could respond, his lips claimed mine, settled, tasted slowly. With his knuckles he grazed my jaw, traced my lips, then wrapped his arms and legs around me, pulling me close. I accepted the fact that while Eli had the courage to say the words out loud, I didn’t. But I felt them just as strongly as I’d felt anything. One day, hopefully, I’d be able to tell him. Nestled against his chest, I hugged him and closed my eyes.

He kissed me again, whispered something French in my ear—I had no clue what it meant. I figured he’d just read my endearing thoughts and that my unspoken words were enough for him right now. Finally, exhaustion claimed me.

I confess, love—it pains me to know you’ve had another inside you. That you seem to enjoy it so fully excites me, though, and as I promised, one day you shall be no longer his, but mine. You will have me inside you over and over until you beg me to stop; and after, you’ll never want another. There is no escape—you are meant for me. He may be inside you for a while—as long as it takes him to fuck you—but I live inside you. My blood is mixed with yours, and no amount of hoodoo magic can change it. We are one and I promise, I will come for you. Until then, I drown in thoughts of you, of touching you, of your mouth sliding over me. Soon, love. Very soon . . .

I bolted up from the quilts and gasped. I glanced around; I was alone. A hazy light filled the canvas tent, the sun not yet risen but still light enough outside to see. The pungent brine of low tide wafted through and rustled my hair, and I inhaled deeply. Oh Christ Almighty. Another dream.

Another message, rather. From Victorian. He was close. I could feel him.

“Eli?” I called out, and crawled on hands and knees to the tent opening.

The man I sometimes had a difficult time remembering was a vampire sat hunched down at the shore, watching the sun rise and picking at some random shell in the sand. The slightly tanned skin of his muscular back looked shiny in the peaking sunlight, the black-inked Dupré crest standing stark between his blades. He was buck naked. He turned and waved. “Come here, you,” he said, and gave me a grin.

Pushing the fear of Victorian aside, I, also buck naked, left the tent and joined him at the water’s edge. And as he took me in his arms, I flushed my mind of the other. He’d not ruin this. I simply wouldn’t let him.

And I’d die making sure of it.