Blood Forever (10 page)

I have to admit, it’s good advice. But at the same time there’s
no way I’m abandoning my boyfriend to a slayer. Sure, he appears to have the upper hand now. But I know how slippery Bertha can be. And if I did jump ship and something ended up happening to him? I’d never be able to forgive myself.

Sure enough, a moment later, Magnus screams in pain, stumbling backward, freeing Bertha from his hold. At first I can’t figure out what happened, but then I see the knife sticking out of his gut. A knife that I’m pretty sure, from his reaction, is made of pure silver. Just as iron is poison to some fairies, so silver is to vampires. Bertha rises to her feet, straddling Magnus’s prostrate frame, her back to me.

“Time to die,” she growls, reaching for the knife.

Rage explodes inside me. Once again the slayer has gone too far. With a bellowing,
Braveheart
-esque shriek, I charge, slamming the stake into Bertha’s back. Again, I know it probably won’t do any permanent damage, but a piece of wood stuck in your back is a piece of wood, when all’s said and done.

She screams in pain, whirling around to face me, her beady eyes bulging with anger. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “Did you want to go first?” She stalks toward me, her steps eating up the room with a frightening pace. I back up, now weaponless, until I’m flush against the wall. I steal a glance at Magnus, hoping for a last-minute rescue, but something tells me that’s not going to happen, what with him thrashing on the floor in pain and all.

Bertha reaches me. I try to shove her away, but she’s too strong, wrapping her meaty hands around my neck and squeezing tight, cutting off my air passageways. I latch on to her hands with my own, desperate to pull them away as I struggle for
breath. But I can’t seem to pry them off, no matter how hard I try. My vision starts to blur. My lungs are empty. Could this be it? Could this be game over once again? That would be so unfair, to allow Bertha to kill me a second time.

“Wait!” a male voice booms. As Bertha releases her grip in surprise, I glance over to the doorway. The metal wall has lifted and standing there in a bathrobe and bunny rabbit slippers is none other than Vice President Teifert himself.

What, is everyone having a Slayer Inc. sleepover or something?

Teifert steps calmly into the room, as if all hell isn’t currently breaking loose. He presses the alarm button on the wall and the sirens fade to oblivion. The room is now eerily silent as he surveys the scene.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks at last, sounding a little weary.

“This girl,” Bertha spits out, glaring at me. “She says she’s a vampire slayer. But I caught her and her little vampire boyfriend breaking and entering into your office. I felt it was my duty to stop them.” She looks at Teifert, a desperate plea for approval written on her pockmarked face. For a top vampire slayer, she’s got more than a few insecurity issues.

Teifert steps over to Magnus, who is still lying bleeding on the floor. He yanks the knife from his side, and Magnus gasps in agony as it’s ripped free. “I truly thought better of you, Magnus,” Teifert says in a soft voice.

“Well, I thought better of you,” Magnus growls. “But this paper seems to suggest otherwise.” With a shaky hand, he
gestures to the folder with Lucifent’s slay order, which has spilled out onto the floor. “You’re supposed to protect and serve,” he says. “But all I see is an intent to kill.”

“We have our reasons for that,” Teifert says stiffly, his face turning red as a tomato. He grabs the folder and stuffs the papers back into it. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“He’s my sire,” Magnus heaves. I can tell it’s taking a lot of effort to talk. I wonder why he’s not healing. Maybe the silver in his bloodstream is preventing it? If only I could get him out of here, get him to his blood donors for a proper transfusion…

“Your sire, yes. And your current Master. But there’s more to Lucifent than you know. And he must be brought to justice before it’s too late.”

“I won’t let you slay him,” Magnus insists. “Kill me instead.”

Teifert sighs. “If only you could understand,” he says. “We’re doing this to save your coven. With Lucifent at the helm, you’re all in danger.” He pauses, then adds, “Along with the entire human race.”

“What?” I cry, before I can help myself. “But I thought you killed—er, I mean are planning to kill—Lucifent because he’s a child vampire, which is against your laws.” Oh God, was there something else? Something we don’t know about the vampire leader that Slayer Inc. does? Something bad?

Teifert turns to me. “While we don’t exactly endorse the idea of children being turned into creatures of the night, we certainly wouldn’t advocate their murder—not to mention disruption of an entire vampire coven’s governing body—for that simple reason alone. This is the twenty-first century, after all.”

Uh-oh.

“And if we did for some ridiculous reason, wouldn’t we have seen fit to have done the deed years ago?” Teifert continues to reason, pacing the room from one side to the other. “It’s not as if he hasn’t been a child vampire for several millennia, you know.”

Ugh. Good point. Why didn’t Rayne and I think of that?

Teifert’s gaze settles on me. “And you,” he says. “What are you even doing here? This is not your battle to fight. You should leave now.” He gestures to the door. “Leave and forget all you’ve seen here tonight. We’ll talk in the morning at school.”

I bite my lower lip. His offer is more than a bit tempting. Walk out the door and have it all forgiven. Forget everything that we tried to do, which maybe, judging from what Teifert is hinting at, may not have been a good idea to begin with.

But then I catch Magnus’s desperate look out of the corner of my eye. It’s my fault he’s in this mess. If I leave now, I’m basically abandoning him. Betraying him in his hour of need. If I walk out the door, it’ll be over between us forever. I’ll never gain his trust. I’ll never gain his love.

So instead, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m Magnus’s intended blood mate,” I inform Teifert staunchly, praying I’m not making a huge mistake. “His battles are my battles. And I won’t abandon him to Slayer Inc.”

Teifert sighs again, running a hand through his hair, as if weary of the world. “Wonderful,” he mutters, walking over to the desk and tossing the folder back inside. “This is just what I needed to cap off my already terrific day.”

“Can I kill them now?” Bertha asks eagerly.

“No,” Teifert says. He surveys the two of us with solemn eyes. “Despite what these two seem to believe, we’re not monsters here at Slayer Inc. and we don’t go around murdering vampires and humans for no just cause.”

Bertha scowls. Evidently she doesn’t agree with the current administration’s policies on senseless monster murder.

“So, um, then can we go then?” I ask, daring to hope for a split second. Will he let us just walk out of here? Can I get Magnus to his donors before it’s too late?

But Teifert dashes that idea with a quick shake of his head. “I’m sorry. You know too much,” he says, addressing Magnus more than me. “Making you a danger to your people.” He sheathes the dagger and slips it into his pocket. “Until we finish this order of business I’m afraid we can’t let you free.”

I
’m sure there are very few dungeons, if any, in this world that could be mistaken for five-star hotels. But, I have to say, the Slayer Inc. dungeon is particularly nasty. First of all, it probably hasn’t been cleaned since the Reagan era. And the walls and floors are covered in bloodstains. But the worst part? Since vampires don’t have the same kind of bodily functions as humans, there’s not a toilet to be found. And I’m starting to deeply regret that Big Gulp I drank on the way to Club Fang.

Magnus collapses onto the lumpy, stained cot at the back of the cell, groaning softly to himself. He’s ripped off his shirt and pressed the cloth to the wound, which still isn’t healing as fast as it should be. He’s lost a ton of blood already and I’m starting to get more than a little concerned as a crimson stain starts seeping into the cloth.

“What was I thinking?” he laments, staring up at the ceiling. “Coming here was a fool’s mission. And now I’m stuck here, helpless, while Slayer Inc. goes to kill my Master.”

“Why do they want to kill Lucifent?” I ask. “Do you know?”

“Because they’re an evil organization with a lust for power?”

I wrinkle my nose. “But they aren’t. They’re peacekeepers, for the most part. At least the U.S. chapter. If they say Lucifent is a danger to the coven, they must have a reason.” I pace the cell back and forth. “Do you know what he could be involved in?”

“Lucifent doesn’t share his plans with me,” Magnus says with a shrug. “If anyone would know, it’d probably be Jareth, him being general of the army and all. If only we could contact him. At least to let him know he should beef up his security team and protect the Master.”

“Yeah, well, if he had believed me in the first place, this wouldn’t be an issue,” I say absently, though half of me now wonders if Jareth’s disbelief might not have been a good thing after all. What if Teifert was telling the truth—that there really was another reason Lucifent needed to be slain, besides the fact that he was a child vampire? Here we are, trying to change history for the better; what if we almost made things much, much worse?

I shake my head, telling myself it doesn’t matter in the end. We’re stuck in jail. Bertha and Teifert have gone on to expedite the Master’s murder. So things will end up working out exactly how they did the first time around, give or take a few weeks. Maybe it’s for the best we were caught after all.

Except for Magnus’s wound. His shirt is now drenched in blood.

“That doesn’t look good,” I say worriedly. “We need to do something about that.”

He grimaces. “I’m fine. I’m a vampire. I’ll heal.”

“The knife that cut you was silver plated. The cut won’t heal fast enough and you’re losing too much blood. You need a transfusion or something.”

“Good idea,” he says sarcastically. “Why don’t you text my blood donors? Tell them to swing by the dungeon for a quick bite.” He winces in pain.

I let out a slow breath, sinking down beside him on the bed. I can’t bear to see him in such agony. Not to mention, even if he does manage to survive, there is no way we can stage any prison break with him so weakened.

I rise to my feet, walking over to the cell door, grabbing the bars in my hands. Peering left and right, I search for a guard or someone else in charge. But the place is deserted.

“Hello?” I cry. “Anyone there? We need some blood down here. Now!”

My demands echo through the hallways but there’s no answer.

“Hello,” I try again, not ready to give up. “Anyone? Please?”

Magnus waves a weak hand in my direction, beckoning me away from the bars. “It’s no use,” he says. “Even if there were someone there to help, it’s not like they would. I’m better off to them when I’m weak and vulnerable.”

“Right.” I plop back down onto the bed, dropping my head
into my hands, feeling helpless and weak. I stare at our cell phones, sitting on a nearby table, outside the cell—so close and yet so far away. If only I had been gifted with those mental telepathy powers that twins always seem to have in the movies. Then I could summon my sister and let her know the mess we’re in.

“Why did you stay?” Magnus asks suddenly.

I lift my head, turning to the vampire in surprise. “What?”

“You could have left. When I had Bertha pinned. And again when Teifert told you to walk out the door. Why didn’t you?”

Why didn’t I indeed? Maybe I could have gone and gotten help. But still…

“What was I supposed to do? Just abandon you here with a slayer who wanted you dead?”

“Well, yes,” Magnus says simply. “Actually that was exactly what you were supposed to do.”

“Well, I couldn’t,” I reply, trying to keep my voice emotionless. “Like I said, you’re my intended blood mate. I couldn’t simply walk away and…” I trail off as a lump forms in my throat and tears threaten my eyes. He has no idea what I would have gone through to save him. Heck, I would have gladly given up my own life to let him live. But to him, I’m practically a stranger who owes him nothing. In his mind, there’s no real reason I should have stayed behind.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. Magnus has managed to rise to a sitting position and is peering at me with large, beautiful eyes. “You willingly risked your life to save me,” he whispers.
“No one has ever done that for me before.” His voice is full of wonder, and it breaks my heart to hear the loneliness creep in at the edges.

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” I mutter, trying and failing to sound gruff. “After all, you’re stuck with me for a very long time.”

He smiles shyly. “I like the sound of that,” he says. Then he frowns. “Of course, first I have to live through the night.” He collapses back onto the bed, pressing the blood-soaked shirt against his wound. I watch him, everything inside me aching to see him in such pain. If only there were a way I could—

I swallow hard, suddenly realizing exactly what I need to do.

“I’ve got an idea,” I tell him, pulling up my sleeve and holding my wrist out to him. I’m not sure exactly how this is done, but I remember this is what Sookie did during an episode of
True Blood
. “Here.”

He cocks his head in question. “Here what? Your hand is empty.”

“Actually it’s full of delicious, nutritious O negative.”

I wait for his eyes to light up as he realizes what I’m saying. Instead all I get is a frown. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is,” I insist. “In fact, it’s a very good idea. The best idea possible at this point in time. And probably the only one. I mean, let’s be practical here. You’re injured. You need blood to heal. I’ve got plenty to spare.”

“But we’re not supposed to take blood from our blood
mates until the official biting ceremony,” he protests. “It’s against the rules.”

Oh, Magnus and his sense of propriety. It’d be cute if it weren’t so life-threatening in this case. “Well, look at it this way,” I say. “There won’t be a biting ceremony if you don’t last the night. So I think maybe a special dispensation is in order.” I drag a fingernail down my wrist, trying not to wince as I draw a drop of blood. I can see the hunger on Magnus’s face as the red liquid drips down onto the stained cot. “Come on,” I urge. “Sweet, syrupy blood. You know you want it. What could go wrong?”