Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply(41)

“What does it say, Liebling?”

“Archaeology takes patience,” I said. I straightened, and peered at the carved hole in the middle of the doorway. “Basically, it’s a bunch of threats about being in this pyramid. Death-on-swift-wings kinds of stuff,” I said.

Drake stared at me blankly.

“Not a fan of The Mummy movies?” I asked.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Ancient Egyptians often wrote prayers and threats on their tombs to protect their resting places. This one is a little different.” I pointed at the hole. “And then there’s this.” I encircled my finger around the images that surrounded the hole. “These are instructions. It says: ‘To know the beginning is to know the answer.’”

Then I stuck my hand into the hole.





Chapter 15


Dove

“Your knowledge of swear words is impressive,” said Patsy. “Still, don’t get your panties in a bunch. You didn’t get to go on the field trip. Suck it up.”

How could I explain to the queen of the vampires that Moira needed me?

Or that I felt completely weirded out being left in the company of vampires?

Or that Moira had abandoned me and it hurt. Even though she hadn’t done it on purpose. Probably.

I inhaled deeply. Oh, yeah. I needed to suck it up. Quick.

“What’s there to do around here?” I asked.

“Are you kidding me?” asked Patsy. “It’s Oklahoma. You can tip cows, skinny-dip in the pond, or watch reality TV.”

“Spectacular.”

“How do you feel about babysitting?” she asked.

I stared at her for a full thirty seconds. “How do you feel about dead children?”

She blinked, and then she snorted a laugh. “Jesus, you’re a pistol.” She looped her arm through mine. “C’mon, buttercup. We have plans to make and bad guys to defeat.”

I perked up. “Now, that sounds fun.”





Chapter 16


“Moira!”

Drake’s shocked exclamation made me feel guilty. Well, I had to be sneaky, damn it. He was trying to protect me, but I was saving the world. His parents had told me so.

I stretched out my fingers, wiggling for . . . ah, there it was. I felt a sharp, swift prick as I pressed my palm down onto the point. Blood welled, dripped, and then . . .

I passed out.

• • •

I floated. Like a feather tossed by the wind, I danced and whirled in the night sky. Another dream? Below me was a silver trailer, and I swooped down, lower and lower, until I melted through the metal roof.

Now I was in a white room.

Below me, a woman with brunette hair lay between the legs of a spectacularly naked man.

I kept floating, floating . . . until I sank into her skin. Melded with her essence. Became her.

I was a woman named Jessica Matthews.

And she was just waking up . . .

• • •

I was latched on to the velvety inside of a muscular male thigh, my teeth embedded in the flesh near his groin, my mouth soaked with warm, very tasty liquid.

After another minute or two of sucking on the stranger’s thigh, I felt firm, long fingers under my chin.

“That’s enough, love,” said an Irish-tinged voice. “You’re healed now.”

With great reluctance, I allowed the fingers cupping my jaw to disengage me from the yummy thigh. I sat up, licking my lips to get every dribble of blood smeared on my mouth.

So, I was Jessica. Only I was me.

And apparently, I liked blood.

Or was she the one who liked the blood?

Oh for—gah! Well, if I wasn’t nutballs before, this kind of shit should do the trick.

“Ssshhh. Everything will be explained.” He tilted his head, looking me over in a way that caused heat to skitter in my stomach. Or rather, Jessica’s stomach.

“So . . . with all the, uh, bloodsucking, I’m guessing I’m a vampire now.” These words were spoken by Jessica . . . and I was just inside her head, inside this dream, with her. It was a weird sensation to be inside another person, even if it was a dream, or vision, or . . . me, finally sailing over the edge of sanity.

“Yes. We Irish vampires call ourselves deamhan fola.” He grinned at me. “It means ‘blood demon.’”

“Oh. Well, that’s certainly . . . descriptive.”

We were in some sort of small white room. It had a long, uncomfortable steel slab sticking out from the wall and we were on it. About six feet from the steel slab on the left side of the room was a door without any visible knob or handle. That was it. White room. Steel bed. Naked man. Jessica was in some sort of white hospital gown and smelled like antiseptic.

Jessica was a vampire.

The guy who’d been the lifesaving snack leaned against the wall, his knees drawn up slightly. Raven black hair feathered away from his face, the ends of it curling on his shoulders. He watched me, or rather her, with the strangest eyes I’d ever seen. Of course, I knew this was Patrick. And his brother Lorcan looked exactly the same. As did their father, Ruadan. Following the vampire bloodlines was probably going to require a chart. And someone who understood how to explain charts to people like me.