Blood Ties Bundle: Blood Ties Book One: The Turning / Blood Ties Book Two: Possession / Blood Ties Book Three: Ashes to Ashes / Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night

Thomas didn’t even blink at the warning, but I felt Cyrus’s pride through the blood tie. “Very good, Carrie. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying your role as lady of the house.”

His arm slipped around my waist and he cupped my bottom through the robe. I pushed his hand away. “Don’t think you’re going to get any. Ever.”

He replaced his hand and pulled me tighter against his side. “Do you really think I could perform after the energy I expended with your friend?”

“I said I don’t want to hear about it.”

He laughed softly. “Sleep, princess. All I wanted was to feel you beside me. Where you belong.”

His words were like a death sentence.

Though it was nearly noon, I couldn’t sleep. I listened as my sire’s breathing grew slow and even, and his gentle snore returned. I propped myself up on my elbow and studied him.

He couldn’t have been very old when he’d been turned. Twenty-five at most. In sleep, his face was smooth and devoid of lines, unmarked by the volatile emotions that ruled him in wakefulness. His skin, though pale, stretched across a body hardened from years of physical labor. From what little I knew of the time he’d been born to, I guessed he’d worked hard as a human.

This man is your sire. This man is the blood that pumps through your heart. I pressed a kiss to his lips. No matter how much I tried to hate him, something defeated the effort. The blood tie? Or my own, insane attraction to him that grew despite his cruelty and depravity?

When I was near him, I wanted him. When he was out of my sight, I hated him. If I could just weed out my true emotions from those governed by the blood tie, I’d know how I felt. Maybe I’d be able to feel my own blood in my veins then, not just the scorching presence of his.

One of his arms secured me at his side as though he were afraid I would bolt. The other lay across his chest. I reached for that hand, surprisingly elegant despite the lethally long nails that tipped each finger. I remembered what Nathan had said about vampires looking different as they aged. If I lived long enough, what would I become?

I lifted his hand and wondered what I would see if I linked our hands the way he’d done before. If his defenses were down in sleep, would I be able to choose the direction of the visions? I laced my fingers with his and closed my eyes.

Before the rushing current took me, his body thrashed against mine, as if he were in a nightmare. Then a red film washed over me and an unimaginable pain tore through my chest. I opened my mouth, or rather, Cyrus opened his mouth, and a scream of agony burst from his raw throat. “Father!”

“Hold still, boy. Your brother didn’t carry on so!” When Cyrus opened his eyes, the face that belonged to the stern voice sneered down at me. Though his skin was weathered with age and the lines of a hard life, he bore a striking resemblance to my sire. Blood stained the front of his shirt and the ends of his long white hair. His hands were inside Cyrus’s chest, searching, pulling, ripping.

In a dizzying second, the vision changed. The face before me morphed into that of a young woman, her body limp, her eyes wide but sightless. The searing pain in Cyrus’s chest began anew. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t move.

Couldn’t pray.

His father’s laugh echoed in his ear. Cyrus’s scream was harsh, his voice used up by his cries for mercy. A deafening roar propelled me out of the vision, and I sat up, panting, at the same time Cyrus woke from his dream.

His features transformed in his rage. “Did you get a good look?”

The Cyrus I knew was gone, replaced by the ruthless figure of John Doe. I cowered, and was ashamed of the motion. “I needed to know…” I had no idea how I would finish the sentence. “I needed to know how I really felt about you, and I thought I might get a clue by poking around in your head.” That wouldn’t leave me vulnerable to his manipulation or anything. My eyes searched the room, finally resting on the scar that divided his chest. “I wanted to see how you got that scar.”

Wrong answer. He grabbed me by my shoulders and flung me from the bed. I hit the floor and skidded painfully, the soft carpet cutting like razors as it scraped my skin.

“Get out!” He leapt from the bed and snatched his robe, angrily thrusting his arms into it.

I stood, rubbing my tender knees. “Don’t be mad. It’s not like I—”

“Did you hear me? I told you to get out!”

He paced the floor like a caged animal. I thought he’d strike me, but each time he raised his hands they closed in frustrated fists and he dropped them to his side. Eventually, he gave up and stalked to the door. He called to the two guards who blocked it after he passed. “I’ll be in my study. See that I’m not disturbed.”

Aching with physical pain and rejection, I pushed one of the guards aside. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to follow him,” I snapped when they protested. I told the truth. The sun would set in a matter of hours, and I had a meeting with Nathan. I’d need to be strong.

Because I didn’t know what Nathan would do to me when he saw me.

Fourteen

An Uncomfortable Reunion

The guard sent to watch over Ziggy had fallen asleep at his post. I dismissed him coolly and took a blanket from my bed to tuck Ziggy in with.

Fatigue penetrated me all the way to my bones, and I groaned when I saw the time on the clock on the mantel. I’d only get a few hours of sleep before I had to meet Nathan. And sleep would not come easily. I tossed and turned in the bed, agitated beyond my own nerves. Cyrus was still awake. I could feel his anger and his restlessness, but I didn’t take it to heart. Whatever he was upset about had less to do with me and more to do with what had been going on in that vision.

I woke groggily from the little sleep I did manage to get and dressed quietly, wishing not to disturb Ziggy. As I passed through the parlor, I stopped to check on him. He didn’t look like a boy anymore. His exposure to Cyrus’s cruelty had wiped the last traces of childhood from him. If the thought broke my heart, I could only imagine how it would make Nathan feel. I made a conscious decision not to tell him what Cyrus had done.

For the most part, the mansion was still asleep. I got the distinct impression that this wasn’t an “early to bed, early to rise” kind of place. A few guards scurried around, preparing the common rooms for the occupants who’d soon fill them.

With a fearful glance at the study, I stepped furtively out the back door. A fresh blanket of snow covered the lawn. I tried not to think of how the hedge maze, frosted with shimmering crystals of ice, reminded me of The Shining. I was creeped out enough without the threat of Jack Nicholson jumping out at me.

I reached out to Cyrus with my thoughts, hoping that I sent off an innocent “just going for a walk” vibe. But it was like hitting a brick wall with my mind. Cyrus was ignoring me.

For a moment, his neglect stung me. Then I had the good sense to remember I didn’t want him to pay attention to what I was doing, anyway. I had enough to worry about without wondering if my sire would rip me to shreds for my betrayal when I returned.

Not to mention the fact I had no idea whether Nathan had even received my message, and if he had, whether or not he would actually show up. If I got caught, I was a goner. I couldn’t even lie my way out of a parking ticket. What if Clarence had sold me out after all? He didn’t like vampires, period. Why should I have expected him to help me?

I kept to the shadow of the wall. I was sure every step I took would be my last before I was finally discovered. My initial trepidation had mounted to full-blown fear by the time I reached the gate. My cover disappeared as the stone wall broke, and I gasped, startled.

On the other side of the weathered iron bars, Nathan jumped at the sound.

I hadn’t given much thought to what my reaction would be when I saw him. I guess I’d assumed I’d have to plead for my life or fight him, so I wasn’t prepared for the concern on his face or the way he gripped the bars like a man in a prison cell.

“Where is he? Is he okay?” he asked, peering past me up the lawn.

“He’s fine,” I assured him. “He’s just tired. He had a rough night.”

Nathan’s jaw set as he spoke through tight lips. “I swear, Carrie, if anything happened to him—”

“Hey!” I snapped. “Do you really think I’d hurt him?”

“Yes, I do.”

It stung too much to let it go. “You don’t know anything about me.”

I started to walk away, but then I remembered Ziggy and my reason for meeting with Nathan in the first place. Before I could turn back, Nathan called my name, and the anguish in his voice cut me to the quick.

“Please. I’ll do anything you want. Just get him out of there.” He reached through the bars as if to draw me back. “If anything happens to him…Carrie, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I sighed wearily and went back to the gate. “Nothing is going to happen to him. I’ve made sure of that.”

Without my permission, my eyes flitted over the dark windows of Cyrus’s bedroom. I remembered my promise to be with him at dawn, and an unexpected shiver of desire raced up my spine. I turned back to Nathan, hoping he couldn’t sense my distress. “The problem is, this place is like Fort Knox. I don’t know how we’re going to get him out.”

Nathan stared up at the mansion, rubbing his hands as if he was trying to warm them.