Shattered Promises 02 - Fractured Souls (6 page)

He nods, and then shakes his head, letting out a sigh that seems to clear the tension between us just a little. “I’ll get there… I just… I just hate drinking blood.” He avoids eye contact with me. “Yet I don’t, which makes me hate it more. And yours…” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “God, it smelled so intoxicating.”

My heart aches for him, but at the same time his words put a wave of hunger in me; one that wants to feed, or him to feed on me anyway. We’re embarking into dangerous territory and, even though I know it, it still takes me off guard.

“You didn’t drink it, though,” I remind him. “Only drew it from my body.”

“Still, I wanted to drink it.” His gaze meets mine as we arrive in front of a door at the end of the hallway. There’s a colossal, golden and black vase on each side and a mirror above it that reveals our reflections. We look high and sedated. “I wanted to taste you, so fucking bad.”

I’m unsure what to say to him. “Okay.”

He seems as perplexed as I do. “Okay?”

I’m not sure what we’re agreeing to, but it feels like we’re agreeing to something. The atmosphere lightens and Laylen’s demeanor changes, his posture unstiffening, his jaw loosening.

He hesitates before knocking on the door. “Stay by me at all times,” he whispers.

I quickly nod as several latches click, and then the door cracks open.

“What do you want?” a voice snarls through the crack as smoke rushes out of it.

“I’m here to talk to Draven,” Laylen states calmly.

The door opens wider and a shorter man with silky blond hair and wearing a black suit steps forward. “Concerning what?”

Laylen tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Concerning the
donum of obscurum
.”

“You’re very brave to come here and say such a thing,” the blond guy states, his gaze sliding to me. “Is this an offering?"

Laylen protectively leans in toward me. “No, she’s with me.”

The guy rolls his eyes and starts to shut the door. “Come back when you have something to offer. He doesn’t just share his gift with anyone.”

Laylen flattens his hand on the door and shoves his foot into the crack at the bottom, holding it open. “I’ll offer him something else, just not the girl.”

The guy considers this for a moment, his eyes wandering to my wrist as he licks his lips. “Just a second.” He steps back and Laylen removes his hand and foot from the door so the guy can shut it.

I shoot Laylen a puzzled look and he puts his finger to his lips. A second later the door opens again and potent smoke rushes out so quickly I choke back a cough. I’m not sure what kind of smoke it is and I think I might be better off left in the dark with this one.

The door opens wider and a different man stands on the other side with greasy black hair, pasty skin, and he’s wearing a tuxedo while carrying a silver platter.

His fangs point out as he grins, gesturing at the room. “Please, do come in.”

Laylen takes my hand as we enter the room. My pulse promptly quickens and he gives it a gentle squeeze, then his fingers move lower so they’re covering the wounds on my wrist.

The room is small, though broad, with an extensive table down the center that’s surrounded by spindle-back chairs. In every chair, a male Vampire sits holding cards, their fangs fully in view. Poker chips are stacked in front of them and there are ashtrays everywhere, covered with cigar butts. Standing behind each Vampire is a woman. They look human, but from a different era, their flowing corset dresses very out of date.

Laylen confidently approaches the table, dragging a very unconfident me along with him. As we reach it, one of the Vampires sitting at the end extends his arm back toward the woman behind him. He grabs the back of her neck and she voluntarily leans down to him. He sinks his teeth into her neck, gripping her waist as his sucks the blood from her vein. Her eyes roll back into her head as her body lifelessly slumps against his shoulder. She groans and pleads in a muffled voice for him to bite her more.

I tighten my hold on Laylen’s hand. Then the Vampire releases her and she staggers back, plummeting to the flood with blood drenching her dress and neck.

The Vampire returns to his cards, wiping the blood from his chin with his hand, grinning as he says, “I think I’m about ready for another round.”

The other Vampires mumble in agreement and reach for the women behind them. Shaking with fear, loathing, and curiosity, I let out a quiet gasp. Suddenly everyone is staring at us, and I wish I could shrink myself into a ball.

A man with jet-black hair sitting at the end of the table rises from his chair. He’s tall, perhaps even taller than Laylen, with broad shoulders and dark eyes that match his shirt and slacks. He has a golden chain on his arm that stretches to a collar that’s attached to a woman wearing a silky blue dress.

“So, Laylen,” he says, walking toward us and dragging the woman with him. She seems dazed, her bare feet dragging along the floor as she stumbles after him. “To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the one and only known Keeper turned Vampire?” His eyes flick over to me and he drinks me in as he stops in front of us and the woman kneels behind him. “And with such breathtaking company.”

Unsure of what to do, I hold his gaze, remaining impartial as I fight the urge to gape at the woman behind him.

“I need your help,” Laylen mutters, his grip constricting on my hand.

The man is fixed on me. “With what?”

An anxious breath eases from Laylen’s lips. “With finding out if someone is still in The Underworld or if they’ve escaped.”

“I see.” His eyebrows arch as he tears his eyes from me and resides his attention on Laylen. “And what made you bring the human? I rarely see you with them, let alone biting them.” He skims my wrist.

“The cost of getting in here.” Laylen presses his lips together. “Your guard wouldn’t accept anything less.”

The man snakes the chain around his wrist, forcing the woman to crawl to his feet. “You should be thanking him, Laylen. I can tell by that euphoric look in your eyes that you must have enjoyed it.” He glances at me, his nostrils flaring. “She does smell very divine.”

Laylen says nothing, however his fingers compress into my skin.

The man grins at me. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Draven.” My heart constricts in my chest as he sticks out his hand. Despite my wariness, I take it since he’s the man who might be able to help me find my mother. He wraps his cold fingers around my hand, slides them up to my wrist and brings my knuckles up to his lips, placing a delicate kiss onto it. Then he inhales, breathing in my scent before letting my hand go. “Yes, very divine,” he mutters, straightening back up. “Now explain to me exactly what it is you need to know from me.” He jerks on the chain and the collar on the woman’s neck bites at her skin, causing her to whimper. “Who is this person in The Underworld that you so desperately seek?”

“Who said we were desperate?” Laylen crosses his arms and maintains Draven’s gaze.

Draven motions around at the room. “Look where you are. You’d have to be desperate to be here.”

Laylen glances around at the Vampires circling the table. They’re no longer playing poker; their cards have been laid down as they watch. “Would it be okay if we spoke in private?”

Draven considers Laylen’s request then calls over his shoulder, “Gentlemen, could you excuse us for a moment? It seems we have to discuss something of a serious nature, privately.” There’s humor in his voice, which makes it obvious that he’s enjoying creating our feelings of uneasiness.

The Vampires get up from their chairs without arguing and file out of the room with the women beside them. After everyone’s gone, Draven signals at us to have a seat at the table. We silently obey, either out of fear or the need for answers, and sit down beside each other. Draven sits in a chair across from us and the woman crouches beside him with her head hung low, her veil of auburn hair shielding her face.

Draven rolls up his sleeves, deliberately watching us. I notice that he has the Mark of Immortality on one forearm and on the other arm there’s a bizarre looking set of triangles overlapping each other in black and red. Once he’s finished, he relaxes back in the chair and studies us closely. “So who’s this person you need to find and what makes her so important to you?”

Laylen peeks at me from the corner of his eye. “Her name is Jocelyn... Lucas.”

My breath hitches in my throat at the sound of my mom’s name and Laylen snatches hold of my hand from under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Jocelyn Lucas,” Draven ponders. “The Keeper Jocelyn Lucas?”

Laylen warily nods. “Yes, that’s the one. Do you know her?”

“Know is a strong word… more like I’ve heard of her.” A sinister shadow casts across Draven’s face as he yanks on the chain, jerking the woman’s head onto his lap.

I swallow hard, wondering just how tricky it’s going to be to get him to give us the information we need. Laylen said it was going to be dangerous and I’m starting to understand why. There’s something in Draven eyes, a darkness that unsettles every bone in my body.

Laylen shoves aside some poker chips and cards to rest his arms on the table. “So do you know if she’s still alive?”

“I do… However…” Draven trails off, looking right at me as he licks his lips and then his fangs point out from his mouth. “This Jocelyn, I’m guessing she’s very important to
you
?”

I nod. “She is.”

He loops the chain around his wrist, making a spiral up his forearm and the woman is forced to comply with the movement, her head elevating toward his mouth. “Tell me, what would you be willing to give up to find out if she is alive or not?”

I glance at Laylen for help, but his eyes are fixated on Draven as he slips his fingers around the woman’s leather collar and draws her neck toward his chin.

“I don’t know…” Laylen drifts off, biting at his lip ring, his blue eyes blackening.

Draven grins, aiming his fangs out as he sweeps the woman’s hair to the side. “If you want, Laylen, I’d be more than happy to share.” With a final grin, he deliberately dips his fangs into the woman’s neck.

She gasps as his fangs enter her skin and then clutches onto Draven’s legs. Draven’s neck muscles work to devour the blood out and her eyes widen before flicking to me. For a second I see life inside her, but it quickly vanishes the longer Draven continues to feed. Blood drizzles down her neckline and the collar of her dress, staining the silky blue fabric a deep red. She moans in pleasure and then whimpers when it’s too much to handle, her eyes dazing off as she arrives at a state of contentment. I wonder what it feels like? What kind of sensations run through the body to make someone look that way?

Laylen licks his lips and I feel his weight shift, like he’s about to stand up, his fingers burrowing into my wrist. I wrench my hand away from his hold and slam it down on top of his leg, holding him in place.

He winces and his gaze shoots in my direction. He doesn’t even look like Laylen anymore, only a shadow of him that’s full of hunger.

“What do you want?” I ask Draven, my voice unsteady as I grasp onto Laylen’s leg.

With blood on his lips, he frees the woman from his teeth and shoves her to the floor. She falls on her knees, her head low, blood rivering down her neck and dress as it pools on the floor. Draven wipes his mouth with his fingertips, licking the blood off each one.

He unbuttons the top button of his shirt, tugging it down a little, the fabric stained with blood. Then he reaches for a cigar box in the middle of a table next to a stack of poker chips. He lifts the lid off, takes out a cigar, and lights the end, putting it into his mouth and inhaling deeply.

“I want one very simple thing in exchange for me using my lovely gift to peek in on the Fey of The Underworld.” He takes another drag of the cigar and greyish smoke fills up the room.

Laylen tears his gaze from the woman bleeding on the floor and focuses on Draven, gripping onto my hand. “And what is it?” he asks.

Draven puffs on the cigar several times, remaining silent, then finally he balances it on an ashtray, the smoke still rising off the end. He crosses his arms on the table and cocks his head to the side. “I want you to feed on the girl.”

Laylen quickly looks at the woman on the floor. “I don’t think she can take anymore feeding without me… killing her.”

He shakes his head. “Not on her.” His attention targets on me. “
Her
.”

“What?” I cry at the same time Laylen snaps, “No fucking way.”

He laughs and it’s deafening echoes ricochet around the room. The woman beside him quivers and falls flat on her stomach, her head resting near Draven’s feet. “Then no deal.”

Laylen’s livid as he slants forward about to say who knows what, but I interrupt him.

“How do we know that you know anything at all?” I ask and feel Laylen go rigid beside me.

His lips part and I half expect him to shout at me to shut the hell up, but surprisingly he stays quiet.

Draven’s fingers seek the cigar in the ashtray. “When the Lord of the Afterlife makes a deal, the deal is unbreakable. Those are the rules.” He places the butt of the cigar into his mouth and inhales.

Laylen tips his head to the side, encountering my gaze. There’s an exchange between us, an agreement, like we’re asking each other what to do.

Laylen leans in toward me, keeping his voice hushed. “It’s addicting.”

Breathe in. Breathe out.
“I know… if you don’t think you can do it, that’s okay… I’ll understand.”

“Not just addicting for me… I’ll always crave no matter what,” he clarifies. “But it’s also addicting for you, too.”

My forehead creases. “I’ll become addicted?”

“You could and then you would most likely end up at a place just like this.” He gives a fleeting glance to the woman on the floor. “Doing whatever just to feel the sensations the bite brings.”

Sensations
? “But Aislin got bit and she’s fine.”

“Fine… but not great.” He contemplates. “Besides, Aislin is a Keeper and a Witch. She’s stronger in the sense of control and what she can’t do of her own freewill, she casts a spell for.”