A Shade of Kiev (Page 38)

A Shade of Kiev (A Shade of Vampire #8)(38)
Author: Bella Forrest

“Take these off.” I forced her to sit upright, and held a blanket up around her. Slowly, she removed the wet underwear and pulled the nightdress over her head. Then she lay back down on the mattress and curled up into a ball, covering her face with both hands.

“Irina… Say something.”

I shook her shoulders.

When she still didn’t respond, I decided not to press further. She’s in shock. She needs space. I’ll tell Saira to visit her in the morning. Tucking the blanket over her trembling form, I planted a kiss on her head.

I cast back one last stare at her as I exited the cabin and swam back through the lake to the mainland. As I emerged—still limping—from the forest and entered the clearing outside the tunnels, I caught sight of Saira standing amidst a group of vampires.

On seeing me approach, she bounded over.

“How is Mona?” she asked, concern filling her eyes.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Check on her tomorrow. She wouldn’t talk to me. But she seems fairly unscathed.”

The wolf sighed with relief. “Thank goodness.” She eyed my bloody leg. “That still hasn’t healed?”

“It will,” I said, grimacing. “It’s just taking longer than I’m used to because it’s deep, and I haven’t had human blood in my system for… a while.” I frowned, looking around. “Why are you all back here already? What happened with the ogres?”

“After you retreated behind the wall with Mona, we followed you,” Saira replied. “Those oafs yelled and made a fuss. But frankly, they’re too cowardly to attempt another fight with us on our own ground, especially when we’re all fully alert to their presence.”

I nodded and turned to walk into the tunnels.

“Kiev,” Saira called after me. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” I muttered beneath my breath.

Chapter 38: Kiev

Intending to go to my room and lie down, in hopes of speeding up my leg’s healing, I bumped into Matteo walking along a corridor. On seeing me, he came up and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you, Kiev, for saving Mona like that. It would have been a great blow to lose her. She’s like my younger sister.”

His words cut me deeper than any shark could have, memories of the night I’d murdered Natalie flashing before my eyes. He removed his hand from my shoulder and walked away.

I limped along the corridor until I was standing outside my room. My hand shaking, I opened the door. I sat down on the mattress, wincing as I stretched out my leg.

Barely a few minutes after I had sat down, a knock sounded at my door. I breathed out in frustration.

“Who’s there?” I called.

When there was no answer, I pulled myself up and opened the door. Giles stood outside, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What do you want?” I snarled.

“I need to show you something.” His voice was calm as he spoke, his grey eyes fixed on mine.

“What?”

“You need to come with me.”

Scowling, I followed him down the corridor. He led me to the open area near the entrance of the tunnels. Groups of vampires stood around, talking about the events of the evening. I averted my eyes when I caught sight of Matteo standing in a corner.

Only once we were in standing in the center of the entrance room—in full view of all the vampires—did Giles withdraw a hand from his pocket and shove it in front of my face. I stared down at his palm.

A pendant, old and rusting.

A pendant I thought I had left behind in The Tavern.

A pendant I couldn’t afford to be looking at.

“Why are you giving me this?” I hissed, glaring at the blond vampire.

“Why don’t you just take a closer look?” His eyes darkened as he shoved the pendant into my hand.

I dashed it to the ground as if it were on fire. Lifting my uninjured leg, I stamped down on it. It didn’t break. I stamped down again. And again. No matter how much I tried to crush it into dust, the pendant remained intact, its rough edges ancient, but never broken. The metal around its center, not yet coated with rust, shimmered up at me against the light of the lanterns, as if taunting me.

“You don’t like my gift?” the vampire whispered.

He picked up the object and, stepping forward, held it just inches away from my face. I jerked back. But he took another step forward, keeping the pendant swinging before my eyes.

And then I realized that it was too late. The border between present and past had been crossed. Tortured screams echoed in my ears—screams of men, women, and children alike. Blood soaked my hands as I ripped through their throats. As I cackled at their pleas for mercy. As my whole body quivered from the thrill of the kill. As my body was once again not my own, but that of my father. His pleasure becoming mine.

The words he’d spoken to me for centuries on nights like this replayed in my head.

Become one with me, Kiev.

My desire is yours. My pleasure is yours.

Willing differently will only cause pain.

Never forget what you are: my own vessel.

Chapter 39: Mona

I woke to find Saira standing in my cabin, water dripping from her fur onto the floorboards.

“Something bad has happened,” she panted. “I don’t know if even I can argue with Matteo to let him out of this one…”

My head felt heavy as I sat up in bed.

“Who?” I croaked. “What happened?”

“Just come with me.”

She gripped my blanket between her jaws and pulled it off me. We both hurried out of the cabin and into the boat. Despite feeling weak, I managed to row us toward the main land.

I had wanted nothing but solitude. But the urgency in Saira’s eyes had sparked something in me that I couldn’t ignore.

On our arrival in the clearing outside the tunnels, a crowd of vampires and werewolves formed a circle. When I pushed through to the center, I gasped. Kiev knelt in the center, his clothes ripped and bloody, hands tied behind his back.

Matteo entered the circle and stood in front of Kiev, an ashen expression on his face as he addressed the crowds.

“We all know the rules. And Kiev knows them too. I’m not going to prolong this.”

Mutterings broke out in the crowd as Matteo approached Kiev. He placed a hand on Kiev’s shoulder and pulled him upright. I immediately regretted pushing to the front of the crowd. Kiev’s face was covered with dirt and blood. My stomach flipped when he raised his eyes to meet mine. Gone was any sign of the spark that I had convinced myself was starting to show through in them. Now, his eyes looked dead. Numb. With pain, hatred or remorse—I couldn’t make out. My lips parted as I struggled to breathe.