Bound By Blood

Kaitlyn nodded, knowing that was the best she could hope for.

Just when Zack thought the day would never end, he felt the shift in the atmosphere as the sun began its slow descent. The absence of its deadly rays was a welcome relief. Its light had burned his eyes, its heat had made his blood burn like liquid fire, searing his veins. He had never realized he needed to be in a dark place for the daylight sleep to overtake him. Hovering on the brink of oblivion, unable to escape the sun’s heat, he had cowered under the blankets, squirming like a worm on a hot rock. It had been the worst day of his life. The only relief he had known came from the blood Kaitlyn had left for him. It had strengthened him when the pain grew unbearable. Bless the girl for her thoughtfulness.

Nightfall did nothing to ease the pain of the silver shackles. His neck and ankles were raw where the metal rubbed against his skin.

He had told Kaitlyn the sunlight wouldn’t make him go up in smoke, but he wasn’t sure he could survive another day in the sun.

Feeling as though he were smothering under the blankets, he jerked them away from his face. And saw Kaitlyn’s father staring down at him. He recognized the man standing in the doorway as the mortal who had accompanied Drake before.

Zack glared at Drake, wondering if the vampire was about to drive a stake through his heart. Instead, the mortal stepped forward and unlocked the chain from the bolt in the wall.

“Get up,” Drake said. “Torrance, bring him.”

Before Zack could ask what the hell was going on, Drake turned on his heel and started down the tower stairs.

Torrance tugged on the chain around Zack’s neck. Resigned, Zack followed the man, his steps hobbled by the shackles around his ankles.

When they reached the bottom of the last flight of stairs, Drake moved down the main floor hallway to a narrow wooden door that opened onto another stairway.

Zack’s trepidation increased as they descended farther and farther underground. One flight. Two. Three. And they came to another door. He swore under his breath as Drake opened it.

Zack shuddered as a miasma of pain and blood and death roiled toward him through the open doorway. How many people had suffered in this place? How many had died screaming in agony or begging for mercy?

Clenching his jaw, he followed Drake and Torrance into the bowels of the dungeon.

Drake opened the door to the last cell on the right.

Tugging on the chain, Torrance forced Zack into the cell and fastened the chain around his neck to a bolt in the wall.

“Torrance, leave us,” Drake said.

The man left without a word or a backward glance.

Zack flinched when Drake shut and locked the cell door. “What now?” he asked, turning to face his captor. “You gonna leave me down here to rot?”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

“Listen, Kaitlyn told me about your war with the Others and how her great-grandfather took ’em out. That’s got nothing to do with me.”

“Does it not?”

“No. If I was the kind of inhuman, blood-sucking monster you seem to think I am, I’d have killed Katy and bled her dry by now.”

“Katy.” Drake spoke the word slowly, so that it came out in two syllables. Ka-ty.

“Dammit, you must have some faith in her judgment. You left her alone in Lake Tahoe.”

“Where do you come from?”

“Originally? A little town outside of London that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“How long have you been a vampire?”

“Six hundred years, give or take a few.”

“Have you made others of your kind?”

“Just one. At her request. She works for me.”

“Why not more?”

Zack shrugged. “I didn’t want the responsibility. What about you? Have you made other vampires?”

“We cannot turn others into what we are. What powers do you hold?”

“Just the run-of-the-mill stuff. The ability to read mortal minds. To dissolve into mist. To transport myself across the room or across the world. To change shape.” He grinned. “Into something larger than a cat.”

Something that might have been amusement flickered in Drake’s eyes and was quickly gone.

“What about you?” Zack asked. “Any extra perks from being born a vampire?”

“None beyond what you have mentioned.” Odd, he thought, that they shared the same preternatural powers, yet acquired them in totally different ways. “Can you be active when the sun is up?”

“Only if my life depends on it, and then only indoors and for a short time. You?”

“In my cat form, for as long as I wish. And in this form, for short periods, as long as I am protected from the sun.”

“Kaitlyn’s got the best of both worlds, doesn’t she?” Zack said quietly.

Drake nodded. “You are in love with my daughter.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

“Yessir, I am.”

“She is my only daughter, the only child I will ever have.”

“Kaitlyn told me your father had numerous wives and dozens of kids.”

“That is true, but his way is not my way.”

Zack shifted from one foot to the other. The pain of the silver was almost unbearable. Changing position caused the shackles to rub against his burned skin. It took all of his willpower to keep his expression impassive, to stay on his feet, to keep from rubbing the rawness around his neck. But if it killed him, he refused to let the other vampire know how badly he was hurting.

Drake studied Zack Ravenscroft through narrowed eyes. Dried blood stained Ravenscroft’s neck and ankles where the silver had rubbed his skin raw. He knew the other man was in pain, yet there was no sign of it in Ravenscroft’s voice or in his eyes. He stood there, tall and straight, his attitude just short of openly defiant, yet there was a trace of respect in his manner, no doubt in deference to the fact that Drake was Kaitlyn’s father.

“The silver,” Drake asked, though he already knew the answer. “Does it burn? Or merely drain your strength?”

“It burns like hellfire. And if it didn’t weaken me, I’d be on the other side of that door with my hands around your throat.”

Drake grinned inwardly as he turned on his heel and left the dungeon. He had no doubt that Zack Ravenscroft would make a formidable enemy. The worst part was that he found himself liking the other vampire in spite of everything.

Chapter 22

Zack cursed long and loud as he sank down on the cold stone floor. If Kaitlyn’s father was going to kill him, why the hell didn’t he just do it and get it over with? Anything would be better than this.

He wondered again how many people—mortal or vampire—had been imprisoned here. Suffered here. Died here. The floor beneath him reeked of old blood, urine, and excrement; the very air was fetid with the scent of death.

Leaning his head back against the wall, Zack closed his eyes and tried to distance himself from the stink that surrounded him, the pain that knifed through him with every movement, every breath. Knowing it was useless, he tried to dissolve into mist, but the silver rendered him powerless, helpless.

And he hated it.

Kaitlyn had asked if he liked being a vampire. He had never really answered her, other than to say that, given a choice, he wouldn’t go back to being mortal. The fact was, he loved being a vampire. He loved the physical power it gave him, the enhanced senses, the ability to read minds, to change shape, to will himself wherever he wished to go. He loved the anticipation and excitement of the hunt. He loved holding a woman in his arms, reading her thoughts, giving her pleasure even as he filled himself with her essence. And yes, if he was honest, he loved knowing that he held the power of life and death in his hands. It wasn’t something he was particularly proud of, but there it was.

“Kaitlyn.” He felt her presence, recognized her scent, even before he opened his eyes. And she was there, her beautiful blue eyes filled with sorrow as she looked at him.

She moved closer to the cell, her hands wrapping around the bars. “Are you all right?” It was a silly question. She could feel his pain, see it in the depths of his eyes, the tight lines around his mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” he muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Never better.”

“I’m so sorry for all this. Zack, why did you come here?”

“I’d think that would be obvious,” he said quietly.

Kaitlyn sighed, touched by the warmth in his voice. “You must have known my father wouldn’t be happy to see you.”

He shrugged, then winced. “I had to try, Katy. I missed you.”

“My hero,” she murmured.

He snorted softly. “Some hero. So, why was your father so insistent that you come home? It wasn’t just to keep you from me.”

“No.” Grimacing, she sat cross-legged on the floor. “My father killed one of his half brothers before I was born. And then you killed Daryn . . .”

“Another brother?”

“Yes. Daryn and the brother my father killed had the same mother. Nadiya. Apparently she’s decided to avenge herself on my father for the deaths of her sons.”

“And your father’s afraid she might use you to get to him.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“It’s not hard to figure out.” Struggling to his feet, he moved closer to the bars, the shackles that bound his ankles rattling over the stone floor with every step. “He did the right thing, bringing you here.”

“How can you say that?”

“It’s what I would have done, in his place.” Zack reached through the bars, one hand caressing her cheek. “You’re his only daughter, after all, and he loves you.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. What would she do if her father destroyed Zack? If that happened, she would lose the two most important men in her life, because she would never be able to forgive her father if he destroyed Zack. Never.

“How are your hands?” Zack asked, remembering how the silver had burned her skin earlier.