The Eternal Kiss: Vampire Tales of Blood and Desire

Becky thought.

“Take him up,” Nana ordered quietly, and followed the boy up the staircase, not faltering on the stairs as she usually did, leaving Becky standing dumbstruck in the open doorway.

Remembering herself, Becky quickly locked the front door. She ran up the stairs after her Nana.

She just caught a glimpse of the hem of Nana’s pink robe disappearing through the door at the end of the upstairs hall. That was a linen closet. What …?

Reaching the door, Becky found that the shelves of the linen closet weren’t shelves at all. They were like those spooky fake bookcases in haunted houses and were now pushed aside to reveal a hidden passage.

Wow. She’d known this house was old and creepy—it had been in the family for generations—but a secret passageway? Really? That was just like something out of Nancy Drew! She hesitated only a moment before going through after her Nana.

“My apologies, Martha,” Becky heard the blond boy say, almost reverently. “I thought … her mark … she looked so surprised. Isn’t she trained?”

Martha. The boy had called Nana “Martha.” No one did that … except Nana’s old friends, and that boy didn’t look like he was even old enough to be out of school. He didn’t go to her school though. That was for certain. She’d remember a guy as good-looking as that.

“She’s not of age,” she heard Nana reply. “Set him down so I can have a look. Do something about the bed, would you? It’s been a long time since I’ve been up here.”

Was that her Nana talking like that? Like she’d suddenly … gotten better? Nana hadn’t sounded that sure of herself in a long time, and certainly hadn’t used that many words in that normal way for more than three years.

“She’s here, listening to us,” the blond boy said softly. He lifted his voice. “Come out, little Healer. We know you’re here, and you may as well see firsthand.”

Becky stepped out from the secret passage and into the light of the candle lamp that had somehow become lit. Her Nana barely looked at her as she bent to examine Ryan, peering into his eyes and glancing at his clothed body.

“His clothes,” Nana said firmly.

Ryan’s clothes vanished instantly, except his underwear.

Nana glanced at the blond boy, arching an eyebrow.

“Afford the boy some modesty, Martha,” he said smoothly. “None of his injuries are around his middle.”

“And you bit him as well!” Nana exclaimed with a gasp as she turned Ryan’s head toward her and saw two small punctures on the boy’s neck. “Sydney! Why would you … it was you … I can tell! Oh!”

Nana’s eyes then lingered on the second bite on Ryan’s bleeding thigh below the band of his underwear. Her fingers deftly touched the wound, and the unconscious Ryan cried out in protest.

“Becky, go into my room,” Nana ordered, looking up at her sternly. “In the closet, on the top shelf, you’ll see a leather suitcase. The one I always told you was full of old pictures? Bring that here, and fast. Go!”

Too stunned to do anything but follow orders, Becky nodded and ran back to the passageway and down the stairs, returning quickly with the case Nana wanted. The whole time questions ran through Becky’s mind. What had the blond boy—Sydney—meant when he said he would have used the entrance but it was sealed? How was Nana acting like her old self, and as though this kind of thing happened every day? Entering the hidden room again, Becky passed the case to her Nana.

“Thank you,” Nana said in that same, calm voice. She reached for the case and opened it, pulling out various things as she spoke again to Becky.

“Go downstairs and bring me the two big pots, filled with water. The temperature doesn’t matter. Sydney will help. Won’t you, Syd? And Sydney? See to the boundary? That’s a good boy.”

Sydney looked like he’d been about to protest but nodded with a wry smile.

“As long as this doesn’t take too long,” Sydney said, standing up importantly. “After all, I left things in disarray. They’ll need me back soon.”

Nana waved her hand dismissively at Syd’s words.

“This is more important than hand-holding your scared little clan. Now, tell me, what’s this? Who broke the truce?”

“There really isn’t time, Martha,” Syd said gravely. He looked to Becky. “Shouldn’t you be getting that water?”

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but—” Becky was tired of being ordered around like a lapdog.

“Becky,” Nana interrupted coolly. “Quickly now or this boy is going to die.”

A glimpse of yellow caught Becky’s eye. Ryan’s lucky pencil was sticking out of the back pocket of the jeans that lay in a discarded heap at the foot of the bed. Becky felt dazed being in this strange hidden room with this strange, unfamiliar woman who was somehow working to save Ryan’s life.

Why couldn’t they have just gone to the hospital? Becky ran downstairs again, her brow furrowing. Why did they come here? Why is Nana acting like her old self? Why is she acting like this is normal?

The questions came faster than Becky could fathom as she filled a large stockpot with water. She was filling the other when suddenly Sydney was standing beside her.

“Holy crap!” Becky shouted, flinching away from the boy. She stared at him, wide-eyed. “How the heck did you do that?”

Sydney lifted the full pot into Becky’s arms. She took it automatically, wrapping her arms around the bottom. Wow, it was heavy.

“The same as always,” he said, confused by her question. “I just thought about where I wanted to be, and there I was. How hard is that? It’s even easier with you worrying and fretting down here. I just had to focus on you, and I came to your side. You need help getting this stuff back upstairs, and your way takes forever.”

He didn’t wait for Becky to ask him anything else. Instead he put a hand on her shoulder and another on the second pot she’d just filled, and suddenly they were back in the dark room with Ryan and Nana.

Becky’s stomach lurched and she set the pot of water next to Nana, just in time to be sick in the corner.

Sydney’s eyebrows rose.

“First timer, huh? Don’t worry, that happens to a lot of humans when they shift for the first time,” he said.

“A lot of humans? What? I mean … Nana? What’s going on?” Becky asked, her stomach tightening more at the disturbing suggestion in Syd’s words.

“I don’t have time to explain now, little dove,” Nana said distractedly, soaking strips of cloth into water, which was suddenly steaming hot though it had been only lukewarm moments ago. “Give me a few minutes to see to this boy. What’s his name, Syd? Names help, as you know.”

“Ryan,” Syd replied quietly. “Ryan Dugan.”

“‘Ryan,” Nana repeated gently before turning back to Becky. “Give me a few minutes to see to Ryan, little dove. He’s been bitten by a hellhound. And a vampire.”

Nana muttered those last words under her breath in disapproval.

“Really, Syd. Did you have to bite him?” Nana asked.

“It was either turn him or watch him die. He’s been good to us,” Syd replied. “You know I didn’t have a choice, Martha.”

Nana nodded. “I know. It’s just … well … he won’t die of the hellhound bite, that’s for sure. If he survives the turning … well … we’ll deal with that part when it comes. If it comes.”

Sydney nodded and sat quietly on a chair beside the bed as Becky watched Nana work.

Hellhound? Vampire bite? What?

It finally seemed quiet enough for Becky to ask a question, but she didn’t want to bother her Nana. Instead, she looked to Syd.

“Because this is the place wounded Ethereals are supposed to come,” Sydney said before she could ask the question in her mind. He glared at her pointedly, and Becky noticed his eyes flashed in the light like Mishka’s sometimes did. Funny—they’d been a shade of dark blue in the kitchen. “This is neutral ground, a haven, where the