The Corollaria (5 page)

“I should ask you the same thing,” he cut her off before she could finish her question. He stepped closer, and Car
son’s hand slipped from Jenny’s. He roughly wrapped his hand around her hip and pushed her behind him. He could just barely keep the wolf at bay. His muscles trembled violently with the effort.

Even though the pressure of his hand on her side was hurting, and she could feel her skin bruising, Jenny didn’t move as she watched Jackson stride forward stopping in front of Vanessa. His large hand grabbed her elbow, more gently than Jenny thought he would, and tugged.

“We must go, Vanessa. Now,” Jackson’s voice was still fairly even, but Jenny could feel the urgency like a cold chill across her skin. The man glanced once at Carson, his dark eyes studying for a long minute, before he turned away. The two vampires were gone in a blur, whispers of shadows in the night.

Carson turned to Jenny. H
is breath was still ragged and he loosened his grip on her hip. He was still too close to becoming the wolf to register many thoughts except to get her out of here. Now. They were both completely silent in the cab back to Jenny’s loft apartment. Carson kept her hand firmly clasped in his until they were safely inside the door.

He turned to her, his gray eyes soft, pleading, sad. “Let me see.”

Jenny pressed her lips together. She knew what he wanted. She knew he was going to beat himself up about it too. She lifted her shirt up, and he sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the swirl of purple and black against her golden skin. He stepped close to her, so close she could feel the heat from his body mix with the suffocating emotions tormenting him. It burned her skin.

He ghosted his fingers lightly
over the vicious marks. Jenny tried not to flinch away. He dropped to his knees and softly brushed his lips over the area, starting just below the bottom of her bra, down to the curve of her hip.

He made the route again and again, until she let out a shaky breath. Carson
stood, locking his tempestuous eyes on hers for one long heavy moment before capturing her lips in a soft gentle kiss. The soft flesh of her lips gave under the light pressure of his, parting slightly when he slid his bottom lip between hers.  He lifted her effortlessly and carried her up the stairs to bed.

In Jenny’s small bathroom she leaned heavily against the counter. The word t
he vampire lady used,
Corollaria
, repeated in Jenny’s mind. She knew that word. She knew what it meant. She’d rarely asked Carson about his family before, but she had this sinking feeling she knew exactly what Vanessa had been talking about it.

Carson reached out his arm, but felt nothing but cool sheets, even though her smell—
spicy and warm—still hung heavy in the air. It reminded him of the night he’d met her. The same night he had first phased. She was as beautiful as ever that night, and he had stumbled upon her on accident. A small coven of new, and obviously very thirsty, vampires had cornered her on a small street. They must have thought she was just a normal human girl. So had Carson at first. 

The ringing of his phone is what finally roused him though, and he sat up quickly, fumbling with his jeans on the floor before finding his phone in one of the pockets.

“Hello?” Not bothering to even look at the name flashing, he answered roughly, his voice still heavy with sleep and regret. 

“Carson,” Luke’s voice said shakily on the other
end of the line. Carson frowned. He had never heard his little brother sound so panicked. Luke had always been the calm, happy, laid back one. 

“What’s wrong Luke?” Carson asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm, even though he somehow already knew, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, what Luke was about to say as the whole incident with the vampires suddenly started to make sense.

“It’s—” He tried, and then took a deep breath, “Its Emily...she’s...
she’s gone
.”

T
here was an ache. A gnawing, raw, festering ache that burned in her belly. Her head pounded, her limbs were sore and heavy. Emily laid prone, face first in a pile of pillows on what felt like a soft plush bed. She ran her fingertips over the smooth cool unfamiliar silk of bed linens.  She slowly began to drift more into consciousness. Panic and fear rose up inside her as she tried to open her eyes and raise her head.

Emily was startled by a man sitt
ing in a large ornate red chair. The dark wood that framed the crimson fabric curved up and out and reminded her of a painting she’d once seen in her Aunt Lucinda’s house. The man looked like he was in his mid-forties, with flecks of gray in his inky black hair. His skin was pale, and his eyes were dark and serious. And trained on her. His clasped hands rested under his pointy chin.

If it wasn't for the faint deathly smell that hung in the air around him or the bone-chilling knowledge of what he
must be, Emily thought he could be considered handsome, distinguished even.

Vampire.
That word made her shiver.  She wasn’t even sure how she knew. But after seeing Curtis last night, after feeling his unnaturally cold touch, his pale skin and black eyes, his fangs pierce her skin—

She swallowed hard. 
Did that really happen?
  She stared at this man across from her and wondered for a minute how old he really was.

He stared at her, unblinking, for a long time. His d
ark ebony eyes silently studied her and his lips pressed into a thin white line.  Emily didn’t move. She could barely expand her lungs enough to breathe.  And it wasn’t just because of the uncertainty that surrounded her, the terror bubbling up just below the surface. The intensity of his stare, the voracious greed she could feel rolling off of him prickled her skin, sent a chill down her spine, and curdled in her gut.

She knew he wanted something from her.

Without warning, the same sharp intense pain that had been aching inside her, stabbed at her as Luke’s face flashed in her mind.
Luke
, she thought. The weight of his name on her tongue was almost too much to bear.  An emotion she couldn’t even name—
longing? fear?—
seemed to press down on her chest. She suddenly felt hungry. Hungry for him, for his warmth, his arms. The memory of the feel of his lips on her skin, of his arms wrapped around her, of being pressed up against his chest burned along her skin.

Where was he? What had happened?

Emily nervously cleared her throat, her voice shaky as she asked, “What do you want with me?”

“That, my dear, is a dangerous question.” 

The vampire’s lip curled up at the corner into wry but awful looking smile. There was a faraway look in his eyes. He stood up fluidly, and crossed the room to the fireplace in the corner, turning his back to her.

“You are so mu
ch like her,” he said wistfully, looking into the crackling flames.

Emily frowned, her voice a little stronger now, “Who?”

He turned to face her, his eyes tightened slightly but the same half-grin made his face seem almost charming and approachable. He was silent for a moment. Emily’s skin stung. He was calculating.

“Elaine,” the man said evenly, his watchful gaze intent on Emily’s reaction. She sucked in a sharp breath. He continued, slowly gliding across the floor towards her, “There is a great deal you do not know, Emily Ashworth”

Emily pressed her lips together and slid her feet down to the hard wooden floor. Feeling the wood creak and the warmth of it press against her bare feet made her aware for the first time of the fact that her shoes had been removed. She swallowed hard as the vampire came close enough that she could feel the coldness of his breath, and the stench of rotten trash tickled her nose.

“How do you know my name?” s
he asked softly. Fear and adrenaline—and some vague sense of familiarity that made her blood hot under her skin—kicked violently through her system.

The vampire smile
d as he stood in front of Emily. His long cold fingers wrapped around her upper arm as he yanked her forward and onto her feet. He leaned in and Emily struggled to keep her face from twisting into a revolted grimace.  He turned his face, his cool breath fanned against her cheek. Emily felt even more nauseated as she fought to keep her composure.

Her skin bristled with fear and anxiety, her stomach knotted and twisted, and her blood seemed to burn like hot lava in her veins, scorching her skin from the inside out—like it was acknowledging his presence.

The man’s nose grazed her skin and he inhaled deeply, “You smell just like her, too.”

Emily felt the questions bubbling up inside her, but she kept silent. She felt like she had been sucked into a strange dream, where everything was familiar, yet she could swear she’d never been here before.

Again, she was struck by the memory of Luke’s warm breath on her neck, the way her body reacted to
him
, to
his touch
. She wondered for the first time why. Why she had felt suspended in a calm bubble when he was close. Why her whole body seemed to sing with some underlying acknowledgment that he was meant to be close.

And why now, with the vampire’s icy face and breath suffocating her, she felt this twinge of familiarity and acknowledgment again, except now it was laced with fear and horrified trepidation.  His stone grip was still clamped around her arm.

“I loved her, your grandmother,” he revealed as he released her and stepped away slightly. His fingers curled under Emily’s chin as he raised it. “You have her eyes too.”

There was a profound sadness that the vampire didn’t bother to hide in his dark onyx eyes, and a sad mournful smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.  Emily’s heart lurched in her chest, although she was unsure why. He turned his back on her
and stood thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again.

“Maybe it was just the blood,” he whispered to himself.

Emily was confused by his broken thoughts and actions, her thoughts muddled by the events of the last twenty-four hours. It was all a mystery, a puzzle she couldn’t piece together, but she knew all these pieces went together somehow. 

“I know a lot about you, Emily. A
bout your family. About Luke,” the man’s voice changed, and whatever softness that had been there moments ago was gone. There was a hard edge to his words. Emily felt her whole body tense with the mention of Luke. The vampire turned to her and smiled knowingly.

Emily swallowed nervously, “I don’t understand.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” he paused, his brow furrowed in thought and his lips pursed together.  “You have something I desire.”

“What?” Emily asked
in an almost inaudible whisper. Her lips barely moved to say the word and a cold chill ran up her spine.

The vampire leaned into her, his eyes locked on hers, “Immortality.”

He said the word like it was some unattainable goal, like he had discovered something, and Emily’s skin once again prickled with awareness.

“But—”

“I will give you answers to your questions. I will help you understand Emily. I know you must feel confused. Lost. Alone.”

He circled her, and she could feel the coldness of him, smell the sickly sweet scent of his breath pressed against her back. Her mind swirled and she felt slightly off balance when his hands once again wrapped around her arms. His right hand slid up, and swept her hair to the side.

Emily felt paralyzed beneath his touch.

“Luke,” she managed to say, her voice sounded strange to her own ears. The hunger for him was painful now. She needed him.

“Ah yes, your wolf. He must be the only wolf in history who doesn’t want his mate,” he laughed without humor and tilted her head.

Emily couldn’t process his statement beyond the small burst in her chest
at the truth of his words—her
wolf
.

Emily
struggled to keep her eyes open as a rush of dizziness overcame her.  His sharp fangs slowly pierced the soft flesh of her neck. He sucked greedily as the warm liquid gushed from the wound, filling his mouth and body with a sudden euphoria. Emily felt herself go limp like a ragdoll and the vampire caught her easily. Her eyes were heavy as she felt herself pulled into unconsciousness.

Samuel took a red handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his lips and chin.  He felt the life force of Emily’s blood, the immense power,
and the immortality of ancient magic surge inside him as it flowed through his veins and vibrated through his limbs.

He had finally figured out the curse.
Well, at least part of it.  He knew he needed Emily’s blood.  He had to be careful. He had to not drain her dry right away. He’d have to figure out the rest, how to break the witch’s curse and give all vampires immortality again. But it didn’t matter.  At least he had
the Corollaria
in his possession.

He smiled a crooked smile.  At least he could enjoy the benefits.  He could feel the magic, the power, the
life pumping through his veins, turning back the clock.