Taken by the Vampire King

Chapter 4

Kaira said her goodbyes to the group of other contestants and crossed the street. The reception had ended and everyone was gathering down the street at a bar to continue the festivities, but she wasn’t up to it. Fever still heated her skin, her hip joints ached and tenderness had settled into her left side. Ever since her encounter with the older man—Jakob, he’d called himself—she’d felt shaky. Ridiculous, really. Nothing had happened. But her body didn’t seem to be convinced.

She dipped her chin further underneath the chunky scarf and held the collar of her wool dress coat closed at her throat. Should’ve brought a change of clothes, but when she’d left her little, out-of-the-way hotel this afternoon, it hadn’t seemed necessary. Now she was cold and tired and feeling the weight of her illness, and the two-block walk back to the bus stop seemed like two miles. Especially in heels. If it wasn’t so cold, she’d have slipped them off and walked in her bare feet.

Turning the corner, Kaira distracted herself from her aches by replaying the night’s highlights in her mind’s eye. Two of her photographs had already sold. She’d had great conversations with the rest of the judges—everyone seemed universally impressed with her vision for the series and especially with her violet aurora. She could’ve broken out into a dance in the middle of the gallery. And she’d had a promising conversation with a travel editor at a magazine based out of Copenhagen. All in all, one of the best nights of her life.

A flare of green light momentarily illuminated the street. Above her, the color rippled, like a holographic flag flapping in the wind. Her fingers itched for the feel of her camera.

She crossed the intersection and the small shelter for the bus stop came into view in the distance. At least she could sleep in tomorrow morning and let her body recuperate a bit from all the excitement of the day.

Her scalp prickled and her body broke out in goose bumps. She burrowed into her coat, but the sensations worsened. Kaira peered over her shoulder.

Two men crossed the intersection behind her.

Just two guys out at the festival. Don’t freak out. She picked up the pace as much as her heels and her joints would allow.

And, still, her internal alarm system rang. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t convince herself it was all just a coincidence. Instinct roared that they were following her, pursuing her.

She stared over her shoulder another moment, her hand already fishing in her purse for her cell phone. She pulled it out and looked ahead—

A hooded man stood five feet in front of her.

Herregud. Oh, my God. She froze and screamed. It was one of the two men who had been following her. Without looking behind her, she knew it was true.

She bolted to the left. He was on her almost instantly, his touch like ice even through her coat. Kaira screamed, and he slapped a hand roughly over her mouth, busting her bottom lip against a tooth. She twisted and writhed and pulled at his arm around her neck. No use. His hold was like iron.

His smell was sickly sour. The stench burned her nose and had her fighting back her gag reflex.

The second man joined them and made a grab for her wrists.

Kaira thrashed and pummeled and kicked with every bit of the desperation she felt. If she stopped fighting... No, she couldn’t even let her mind entertain all the horrible things they were likely to do to her. Every bit of her adrenaline-pumped energy had to remain focused on fighting, on surviving.

In the shadow of a van parked at the curb, they forced her to the ground. Her head glanced off the pavement. One of them wrenched her coat open, sending buttons flying, as the other tore the scarf from around her neck. Hands pawed over her breasts. Knees pinned her arms down, and one of them continued to muffle her screams. A blast of cold seemed to concentrate on her throat a moment before something sharp sliced into it.

Oh, nei. Oh, nei. Herregud, nei.

A sickening pull centered around whatever pierced her throat. Had he...had he bitten her? The suction burned and grated, like crushed glass flowed through her veins.

Growling cut the night air from somewhere nearby. Hissing, her attackers reared back. With bleary, unfocused eyes, she tried to track what was happening. Then something—or someone—swooped over her. Suddenly, the men were gone. Harsh words and feral growls rang out. Some sort of chaos was happening close to where she lay. Shots ricocheted off concrete.

Run, run, run!

Time slowed to a crawl even as she forced herself to move.

Pushing up onto her elbows, Kaira fought a wave of light-headedness that sent the world tilting and warping. She used the van’s bumper to pull herself up. Her foot pressed against the cold asphalt, making her aware she’d lost a shoe somewhere along the way. The bodice of her gown flapped open.

Like the air was made of molasses, she staggered to her feet and kicked the other heel free. Vertigo washed over her, sending her body careening against the back of the van. Ignoring the fight obviously going on behind her, she concentrated on forcing oxygen into her lungs.

A man appeared in front of her.

She sucked in a scrape of frigid air that left her throat raw. Shaking her head, she raised her hands and pressed tight against the van. Tears of fright and rage blurred her vision. She blinked them away and her mind reeled. The man from the gallery. Jakob. She’d recognize those flashing, ice-blue eyes anywhere. Except...bleeding cuts and scratches marred his face and throat. His clothing hung in tatters.

Had he sustained these injuries protecting her?

Pale eyes with an odd reflective quality dragged down her face and settled on her neck.

An anguished noise bubbled up from his throat a moment before he opened his mouth and flashed what could only be called fangs. He had fangs. Fangs!

She blinked, hoping against hope to see a different reality before her.

Even as she rejected what she was seeing, her mind resurrected the memory of the piercing sensation of moments before, and the trail of warmth covering her neck told her she was bleeding. The other one had bitten, sucked and drank from her.

In one more blink of her eyes, his body pinned hers and his mouth fell against the wound on her throat. She gasped and flinched as those long canines penetrated her flesh. While there was a moment of piercing pain, the first pull of suction obliterated it. Each hungry draw of her blood into his mouth blanketed her body in languorous heat.

It wasn’t the only difference from the attacker’s bite. This one—this...vampire?—was warm. His chest against hers, his lips and tongue on her neck, his hands holding hers against the metal. Her temperature rose everywhere his hard, lean frame pressed against hers. And, herregud, he smelled delicious. A tempting blend of everything dark and decadent, like hot, spiced chocolate. Saliva moistened her mouth.

An unwelcome thrill rushed through her trembling body. Her heart hammered, her blood pounded, her breaths came in ragged pants. Originating where he suckled, heat skittered down her spine and settled low in her belly.

What was happening to her?

Soon, each long, wet suck seemed to tug at her nipples, at the suddenly aching bundle of nerves between her legs. She moaned and tilted her hips against his steely muscles.

Her instincts were veering in a new direction without her permission. Fright speared through her. “Nei,” she rasped. “Nei.” She didn’t want this...whatever it was.

Did she?

An odd sensation, like pins and needles, tingled over the palm of her left hand. She involuntarily squeezed his hand, and his fingers wrapped around hers.

“Nei,” she moaned again. “Ver så snill.” Please.

A whimper, like the sound of an animal in pain, sounded against her throat. His muscles erupted in tremors. With a grunt, his lips released her skin. Curses and yelling echoed off the buildings around them as his tongue dragged over the spot where she’d been bitten, spreading a relieving balm. The flesh there suddenly felt less raw.

He flew back from her. No, dragged. He’d been pulled away. A man stood behind him, arm tight around his neck. Roughly, he hauled him across the open parking space and forced him facedown against the hood of the next car, arms pinned at an almost bone-breaking angle behind his back.

Yet he didn’t resist. He didn’t fight back.

As she watched the bizarre events unfold, twin reactions coursed through her—relief at the rescue, and worry for the vampire that had seconds before drank from her throat. Protectiveness, even.

Why she should feel the least sympathy for him, she couldn’t begin to explain, but she also couldn’t deny the feeling. Nor the fact that her body was more aroused than she could last remember.

Kaira slid down the door of the van until her butt hit the bumper. Shaking so hard she thought for sure there must be an earthquake, she braced her bare feet against the pavement to keep from outright falling. With one hand, she struggled to force the lapels of her coat together. A whirlwind of confusion filled her mind.

God, everything hurt—her head, her throat, her arms, her very skin. The list went on.

Movement in her peripheral vision. A man eased down off the sidewalk with his hands raised—the younger guy she’d seen in the gallery earlier, the one who had yanked Jakob from the room.

“I just want to help you,” he said.

Problem was, Kaira was experiencing something of a mind-to-body disconnect at the moment, and she couldn’t manage to formulate a response. She just stared at him, her eyes watching and assessing his every movement.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He took two slow steps until he stood directly in front of her, blocking her view of the scene on the hood of the car.

“Not...possible. Since I...don’t even know.”

He slipped out of the beat-up black leather coat he wore, leaving himself in only a hooded sweatshirt. “Ja, you do. You’ve been bitten twice. You know what you’ve seen, even if you’re trying to convince yourself it’s not true.” Keeping his bright blue eyes on hers, he held the coat out to her. “Slip your arms in. It will keep you warmer. You’re probably in shock.”

The tips of two longer teeth occasionally appeared as he spoke. He was right, she did know what she’d seen. Vampires. Five of them, no less. It was like she’d stepped out of the gallery and into an alternate universe. She glanced at the coat and shook her head.

The leather sagged in his hand. “Change your mind, you just say.” He glanced over his shoulder. “How’s it goin’ over there?”

Low voices fired back and forth for a moment, as if the pair by the car was arguing. Finally, one of them replied, “Fine, but he’s insisting I not let him up.”

“Do what he says.”

“Is Jakob okay?” she whispered, half hating herself for caring. Half dying to know.

The blond in front of her turned back and frowned. “Jakob?”

She nodded, gesturing to the other men, er, vampires.

“I’m Jakob.”

Dizziness washed over her. She clearly had no idea what the hell was going on. “I asked his name...before...at the gallery. He said Jakob.”

Jakob—the real Jakob, apparently—tilted his head. “I think he was calling me, not answering you.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “My brother’s name is Henrik.”

Brother?

Her feet totally numb from the icy ground, Kaira felt her knees turning to mush. The earlier fever returned with a vengeance, whipping through her like a flash fire. Way she felt, she couldn’t process all these details. There was only one thing she wanted—needed—to know. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Nei.”

He said it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, that something inside told her to believe it.

The smallest sense of safety returned to her and right behind it came a tsunami of post-adrenaline letdown. “Help,” she said a split second before her legs gave out.

Somehow Jakob was there. He caught her against his chest. “Okay. I have you,” he said.

Good as he smelled, he didn’t incite the cravings she’d felt a few moments before. The comparison was as unwelcome as it was unbidden.

Growling erupted, fierce and sudden. Kaira looked up in time to see Henrik take the man who had been holding him and flip him over the hood of the car.

He spun and stalked toward them, glaring at Jakob, who tucked her under his arm and tugged her back a full step. Her heart rate kicked up again, but the fright that came over her was less for herself than for the vampire holding her upright.

Jakob held out a hand. The other vampire scrambled up off the sidewalk and approached from the side.

Kaira peered around Jakob’s chest and gasped. “His eyes,” she said to herself. Bright, piercing blue, like a cloudless sky on the most beautiful, spring day. Totally captivating.

“Henrik,” Jakob rasped. “Your eyes have changed.”

Confusion played over Henrik’s aggressive expression.

“Jesus, brother, your face—the cuts have all healed.” His voice was awash in wonder.

“I’ll be damned,” the third vampire said.

Henrik paused and ran his hand over his cheek, his lips, his neck. His azure eyes went wide.

Kaira glanced between the three of them, unsure what explained their sudden change in demeanor. All the aggression and tension flowed out of them.

“How?” Henrik said. “It takes me days to heal...”

His words hung on the night air for a long moment, and then three pairs of preternatural eyes turned toward her.