Victorian simply breathes for several seconds, head bowed, collecting himself. His shoulders, broad but slim, rise and fall with air I’m certain does not circulate within his lungs. When he lifts his head, the only remnants of his vampiric morphing are his eyes. They remain crimson and fixed on me. “Riley has too much of my brother’s strigoi DNA. It’s…changing her.” He glances at Eli. “Changing her in ways even her dark brethren cannot cure.” His Romanian accent is heavier at times, like now. “She is beginning to crave. I’ve seen it.” His voice lowers. “She will kill.”
“I will what?” I ask, shocked, staring back at Vic. “Are you friggin’ crazy?”
“Bullshit,” Phin says, and his angry voice echoes off the concrete walls of the parking garage. “She went through weeks of cleansing.”
“You underestimate the power of a strigoi,” Victorian replies.
“Fuck you,” Phin returns.
“We underestimate nothing,” Eli says quietly, deadly. Threatening. “You’re wrong, Arcos.”
“She broke my power of suggestion,” Victorian argues, flashing me a glimpse. “Started growling, convulsing.” He glances at me, then to Eli. “Nearly jumped from my car going eighty-five. I had to pull over and restrain her physically, and even then she briefly overpowered me. I had to chase her down as she tried to escape.”
“So where were you taking her?” Phin asks. His voice does not sound like his own; he is getting impatient. Out of character for Seraphin Dupre.
Then again, the flashes I’d had while running through the woods behind the rest stop had been out of character for me. Those weird cravings. What the hell was that? I convince myself it was nothing more than a residual effect from the trauma at Tunnel 9.
“Where?” Eli states. His patience is going fast, too.
Victorian’s unholy gaze settles on mine. “To my family home in Kudzsir in Romania. To my father.”
I blink, and Eli’s body flies in front of me. By the time my vision finds them, Eli has Victorian crushed against a wall. “So you can turn her? Have her for yourself?”
“Eli!” I yell.
With his face close to Victorian’s, Eli growls, “I’ll fucking tear your limbs from your body and burn them myself before I let that happen. And I’ll start with your goddamn head.”
“No!” I run now, because Eli’s looking like he’s about to dismember Victorian right where they stand. Someone grabs my arm and I jerk to a jolting halt. I turn and glare at Phin. “You’d better turn me loose.”
Phin just looks at me. Tightens his grip.
Just then, a beam of light arcs over the gray concrete walls of the garage; an SUV pulls in.
“Eli, let’s go,” I plead. “Now. Just forget about this. I’m all right. I’m with you.”
At first, he ignores me—nothing new there. Then he flings Victorian across the parking lot, storms toward me and grabs my hand without breaking stride. He doesn’t say a word. Electricity seems to sizzle around him. If anger causes that, he’s got an aura of it.
Victorian has more balls than I credit him for. In the blink of an eye, he is standing directly in Eli’s path. “Know this, Eligius Dupre. Only a powerful strigoi like my father can cast out the evil growing inside Riley. And you will soon see—it is definitely there. You’ll not like it, I promise you that.”
Eli stares at Victorian for a split second, then takes his hand and shoves him out of the way. We continue on through the parking garage. I turn and watch Victorian.
“You will soon see,” he says, standing in place. He speaks to Eli, but his eyes are on me. “You’ll bring her back to me. I will be here, waiting.”
We round a corner, and Victorian is no longer in sight. I find it strange to think of how Victorian, a vampire himself, considers vampirism evil. Maybe he dislikes what he is as much as the Dupres do. He has a good heart, despite the fact that it no longer resides in his body.
We reach Phin’s black Ford F-150 in tense silence. In the distance, I hear a door slam and an engine start up. I guess it’s Victorian’s Jag. Phin hits the lock release button on his keychain and Eli opens my door. As I put my foot on the side step to climb in, he stops me.
With both hands on my face, he kisses me—long, ungentle, desperate. I breathe in his scent and return the kiss. Unlike most members of the undead, Eli’s lips aren’t icy cold, but lukewarm, full and sensual as they devour mine. Then, he pulls back. With startling blue eyes, he inspects me from head to toe. At my exposed thigh he lingers, lowers his hand, and grazes a large scrape.
“Must’ve gotten that at the rest area,” I say, and although his features are cast in shadow, I know he studies me with ferocious intensity.
“Let’s go home,” he says, and climbs in beside me. No smile. Eli is still angry.
Phin starts up the truck and exits the parking garage. It’s not until we hit Peachtree Street that I realize Victorian and I had made it all the way to Atlanta.
According to the digital clock in Phin’s truck, it’s close to four a.m. Traffic is nonexistent as we weave through the tall buildings and intertwining interstate dissections of downtown and make our way back to Savannah. Before we hit the interstate, Phin pulls into a BP and fuels up. I run inside and grab some drinks and a bag of Chic-O-Stix. Eli’s gaze is locked onto me the entire time. We settle in for the drive home.
Even with Eli’s body crowding mine in the cab of Phin’s truck, his hand protectively on my thigh, one thought pounds through my brain; one thing needles me and doesn’t let go.
Am I truly turning evil? Am I going to kill?
Will I crave blood?
Goddamn, I hope to hell not.
I’m sleepy again—why, I don’t know, but I feel like I haven’t slept in days. I close my eyes, and slumber soon takes over.
Part Two
Turmoil
Dat girl ain’t right. I noticed time dey brought her back home. She got a mean look in her eye dat don match her face, or her mouth. I’ve seen it before, on odders, a long, long time ago. I know what it is, too. It’s evil, dat’s right. Pure dead evil. I don know if I can save her dis time, but I’ll die tryin’.
I feel different. Ever since I returned home from my wild ride to Atlanta in Victorian’s trunk, I can feel it. And that was over a week ago. It could be nothing more than my own imagination messing with me; it could be something else entirely.
Victorian’s shocking words that night rattled me. I may not have shown it, but they did. And Eli hardly leaves my side now, even less than before. As a matter of fact, right now is the very first time since we’ve returned that he’s left me alone for more than an hour. Eli did not go easy. But Preacher needed his and Seth’s help next door repairing a leak in the attic, so I’m taking full advantage of the situation and chillin’ in a hot bath. It’s Sunday evening, there’s finally a chilly bite to the mid-October air, and the shop’s closed. I’m relishing this time alone. Need this time to myself. Desperately.
Resting my head back against the air pillow, I sink deeper into the hot suds and close my eyes. How long ago it seems since Seth and I discovered everything Preacher had tried to shield us from. After our encounter with the Arcos brothers, sweet Seth’s personality totally changed. He wore stupid shades over his eyes all the time, slept all day long, and stopped eating. We didn’t know what was happening until we saw Seth hurling himself out of his top-story window, only to hit the ground running. The image will be emblazoned in my memory forever.
He’d nearly turned. But Preacher and his Gullah brethren, skilled in the cleansing of vampirism passed down by their ancestors, saved Seth. Saved his pal Riggs. Saved me, too. I know I wouldn’t be in the bathtub right now had it not been for Preacher and Estelle.
Like me, Seth and Riggs have tendencies. Mine are the strongest of all. Preacher warned me that my powers would change constantly, but the feeling growing inside me is unexpected. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I just
