Vampire Elite (42 page)

Anock shook his head to clear it. This was madness. Was he now condemned to view every experience in light of Cara’s inability to have it?

“What happened, brother?” He was startled by Ken’s voice behind his shoulder. Anock had been totally oblivious to his surroundings. He couldn’t afford to be this distracted; no one should be able to get that close without Anock noticing.
 

“I saw my bloodstock. Her name is Cara, and I can’t stop thinking about her. I don’t know what to do, Ken.”
 

For a few moments Ken cocked his head, thinking, and then he said, “Go a couple of weeks without taking blood, then try to do it for a month. This is a proven practice. It will clear your mind and everything will fall back in place. You are the Elite, and bloodstock is bloodstock.”
 

“No, Ken. It won’t help. She’s become real to me. She
is
real. It can’t be undone. She’s sad, and beautiful. Her eyes are green and her hair glows like the sun touching the horizon. And”—he glanced at the drink in Ken’s hand—“I can
taste
her in those. It’s not just bloodstock
blood in this drink. It’s hers.”
 

“Damn you, An.” Ken grumbled, glaring at his drink. “Now I can’t drink it either.” He set his Pink Sunset on the rail next to Anock’s. “And that’s why we never meet the bloodstock. We’re not
supposed
to meet them.”
 

“Why
can’t
we blood-bond with bloodstock?”
 

“Because she’ll never forgive you.” Ken put his hands on Anock’s shoulders. “I want you alive, brother. Promise me you’ll never see her again. If you do, she’ll do everything she can to seduce you, pretend that she loves you. As soon as you bond with her, she’ll burn you alive. Promise me you won’t go there.”
 

“I don’t care; let her burn me. I deserve it. We all deserve it.”
 

Anock turned to leave and almost crashed into a server holding a tray of elaborately decorated pastries and fresh fruit.
 

The guy managed to keep the tray upright and didn’t miss a beat. “Some dessert, sir?”
 

Cara would probably like them
.
 

“Yes. Thank you.” The waiter held out the tray and then gasped a little when Anock took the entire tray. His reaction suddenly struck Anock as hilarious, and he had to stifle a laugh.
 

But it wasn’t really the server’s shock that was making him laugh, Anock thought as he held the tray high, navigating through the crowd to the elevator. It was joy at the prospect of seeing Cara again, of taking her this decadent platter of treats. He was overflowing with it, felt as though giddy, iridescent bubbles were streaming from his body.
 

The bubbles were fragile, though, and popped when he got to the basement. Doubt replaced them.
I’m going to look stupid
, he thought as he stopped in front of the door to Cara’s cell.
 

Turn back, Anock. You’re playing a deadly game. This can’t end well.
 

But he’d gone too far. It was too late. George entered the code and opened the door. Anock stepped into the cell.

Chapter 56

Not a day passed that Anock failed to visit Cara. He brought her ice cream, sweets, books, flowers, even stuffed toys. He’d become obsessed with her, unable to concentrate on his work, unable to make important decisions because his mind wasn’t capable of focusing on anything but her. He passed the time away from her anxiously, thinking about what to bring her that day and what he was going to say to her. Cara seemed to look forward to his visits, too, and was always grateful for his little gifts.
 

Anock was not naïve; he understood that, from her point of view, he’d been sent by the Goddess. He was her only hope of ever getting out of that cell. She had to act appreciative and not do anything to annoy him if she wanted him to keep coming back. But her possible ulterior motives seemed trivial; he just needed some time, and he’d overpower them with the depth of his love.

He wouldn’t allow anyone to take her blood, and he wouldn’t drink the blood of any other bloodstock. It was challenging to go without his feeding. Initially, the bloodlust was bearable; Anock had practiced methods of controlling it for centuries. He knew he could survive without going insane for about a month, and then—well, Anock didn’t want to consider what would happen then.
 

When he really confronted what was going on inside him, he knew he was secretly hoping for a miracle. He avoided naming it, but it was a blood-bond he longed for.
 

Anyone rational would have told him that unless something changed, the end of his life was rapidly approaching—but on this issue, Anock wasn’t rational. All he felt was joy as Cara began to regain her health, seeming more alive with every feeding he skipped. He also thought he detected a tentative affection in her eyes. Goddess, could it be that she had feelings for him?
 

Every night, lying awake in bed, Anock envisioned a glorious joining of their bodies. She hugged and kissed him just as she had in his previous dreams, as he ran his fingers through her divine hair. She’d stopped being just
her
, an alluring phantom; she was a real female with a given name and a physical body that radiated warmth, a body he could touch ... maybe, one day. It was torture to know that she was so close to him, in the same villa, only a few floors away. She belonged here, with him, in his bed. So why wasn’t she here?
 

His inner struggle went on like this for a month. Anock’s tolerance was being strained to the breaking point; he was miserable, anxious, and depressed.
 

One morning after another sleepless night, utterly debilitated, he got up and scowled at himself in the mirror.
You can’t live like this any longer, my friend. She’s your mate. Stop being an idiot. Go to her and bring her here, where she belongs.
And just like that, it was decided.

He flew to Cara’s cell as though he had wings. Quietly, so as not to awaken her, he entered the cell. He went to her bed and sat on the floor next to her, gazing into her beautiful face, wanting to sweep her upstairs to his room but not wanting to disturb her sleep.

Finally Cara opened her eyes. “Anock,” she murmured, smiling. “Has something happened? You never come at this time.”
 

He took her hand and pressed it to his mouth, kissing each of her delicate fingers. Her skin was soft and smooth and her night-lily scent filled the room. Dear Sekhmet, he loved that scent; it would forever be his favorite. His bloodlust surged, but he chocked it back.
 

“Do you have a family, Cara? If I can get you out of here, do you have someone who can take care of you and help you hide?”
 

“You can get me out?” She lifted her head, disbelief in her voice.
 

“Yes, but I’m torn. I want you free, but I want you here with me. I’m selfish; I’m sorry. Is there someplace I can take you?”
 

She sprang out of the bed and wrapped her arms around him with such fervor that Anock almost lost his balance. She’d been getting stronger since the bloodletting had been stopped.

Anock was stupefied. It was the first time she’d actually hugged him. He didn’t know if he’d be able to let her go; she felt glorious, and he could feel the blood pumping through her heart.

“I can’t believe it.” Cara cupped his face with her palms and kissed his cheeks. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Anock soared into an altered state, afloat on an ocean of joy, oblivious to his thirst. Was this how the love of your mate felt? Anock had never experienced true love, only a stable of sexual partners whose names and faces blurred together in his memory.
Hell no, she’s not going anywhere! What was I thinking?

“Where can I take you?” What was he doing? Why was he saying that, like he’d take her anywhere but up to his quarters? He couldn’t let her go—not now, not ever. She’d be his forever.

Cara shrugged uncertainly. “I was raised in a foster family, a human family. I had no idea I was Amiti until I was kidnapped when I was twenty-two. I learned about vampires and Amiti from another bloodstock, Dina. We were put in a cell together from time to time, so she told me about Sekhmi, and how they treated Amiti—and what the rest of my life was going to be like. It was so shocking. Why couldn’t I have just been born human?”
 

Anock could hardly contain his wild exhilaration: Cara had no place to go except back to her human foster parents. Had that other bloodstock even explained to her why she couldn’t do that?

“Well, you can’t go back to your human family. You must know that being drained regularly makes Amiti lose their powers, and you won’t be able to shield for a long time, maybe even years. That means you’ll just be captured again. Do you understand that?”
 

She nodded gravely, bitter disappointment in her eyes.
 

“But I have an idea,” Anock continued. “Please, be my mate. I will love you and take care of you for the rest of your life.”

He didn’t know how he’d gotten the words from his brain to his mouth, but once he did, all his anxiety dissipated, and he felt only relief and tranquility. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a gold bracelet engraved with a lioness head, a Sekhmi symbol of commitment like human engagement rings. He’d purchased it several years ago thinking that the day would come when he could present it to his mate. He’d been carrying it with him ever since.
 

“You. Are. Proposing.
To me
?”

“Yes. Please do me the honor of being my mate” His gut had never lied to him; he was on the right path. No
ifs
,
ands
, or
buts
.

Cara threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with her tears.
 

“I’m taking that as a yes.” He lifted her in his arms. “Now let’s get out of here.” Cara closed her eyes and sighed contentedly.

Her eyes were still closed a few minutes later, when Anock set her down on the white leather couch in his living room.
 

“You can open your eyes. This is where you’ll live from now on.”
 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“If I open them, you’ll disappear and I’ll be alone again. I want to keep dreaming.”
 

“You think you’re dreaming?” He almost choked on the words.
 

“Of course I am, because this can’t be real. I’ve been dreaming about you for three years.”
 

“You ... you saw me in your dreams?”

“Yes. Exactly as you are. Resplendent, like an Olympic God, strong and kind, loving and tender, with amazing blue eyes. It was so lonely in my cell, and in my dreams I had a partner, a mate. We met often and spent a lot of time together.”
 

“What did we do?”
 

She blushed. “I can’t tell you.”
 

“I already know.” He pulled her closer.
 

“How?”
 

“Because I saw your dreams, Cara. I was there. And I believe I felt everything you felt. I think we shared the same dreams.” With the tip of his tongue, he licked her tears away, moving from her chin up to her eyes, covering her eyelids with his lips, indulging himself in her night-lily scent and the salty taste of her tears.
 

“Have you run out of tears yet?”
 

“I don’t know.”
 

* * *

Cara’s mind was working feverishly. She was out of the cells. She had to run, had to find a way out. She’d lie to him; she’d tell him whatever he wanted to hear. Let him think that she’d been dreaming of him when in reality all she ever wanted was her freedom back. Every single day, in spite of all the torment, the sickness, the abomination of the catheter piercing her skin and drawing the blood from her body, and the agony of loneliness, she’d managed to keep focusing on visualizing herself free. Cara was a realist; she’d been sure she’d die in that cell, and the only means available for her to fight for her freedom was the power of her mind and manipulative skills. For three long years, losing hope with every passing day and slipping into dark periods of despair, she’d had to pull herself back, again and again, fanatically centering on her goal.
 

Then Anock had appeared in her cell. It was a miracle that he was interested in her. What was it that made her so special? She seriously doubted that she was even attractive; three years of bloodletting had reduced her to no more than a shadow of her former self. But there must be something that kept him coming back. She had to discover what it was and use it to her advantage.
 

For the past month she’d been studying him intently. It was clear that he had an image of her in his mind, and she knew she had to discern the contours of that image, and then do whatever she could to mirror it, to reflect back to him whatever his fantasy version of her was. If she could, odds were she’d get out of the damned cell.
 

She taught herself to read even the merest hint of changes in his body language, facial expressions, tone of voice. He wanted to protect her; therefore, she must pretend to be fragile and helpless. So she did. His heart melted when he saw her smiling sorrowfully. So she did. He longed for her to anticipate his visits eagerly and greet him with affection in her eyes when he arrived. She did, she did, she did. She recreated the image of herself she saw in his mind and became its living embodiment.
 

Now, finally; she was out of the cell. But she still wasn’t free: she had no place to go, no documents, no money, and worst of all, no powers. No shielding.
 

He’d brought her here to toy with her—even if he
thought
he loved her, Cara knew that Sekhmi didn’t know how to love—and the moment he got bored he’d send her back to the bloodstock cell. She had to find a way to hold his interest for however long it took for her powers to come back.