Page 9 of Kissed the Mark
“Fine by me.” I still wasn’t convinced thatthe person was who Leandra wanted it to be. More likely some humanlost in the woods or something. A simple human…who had lost theirshoes…and gone farther away from town rather than toward it.
We followed the trail in silence, the airsuddenly tense between us. If we actually found the mark justsitting there at the end, it would be the longest, most boringsuccess of my entire career. Leandra held up a finger to me as wewound around a bend, where the footprints stopped abruptly. Sheneedn’t have. The forest was completely, deadly silent.
I cleared my throat, eliciting an annoyedgrunt from my companion. “Shouldn’t there be owls or crickets orsomething?” I whispered.
She whirled around, undoubtedly to chew meout for breaking the silence, when her eyes widened in horror.
A sharp pain bloomed in my shoulder. Igasped involuntarily. Then, they came out from the trees.
Vampires. At least half a dozen of them. Itonly took a moment to register that I didn’t recognize anyone. Twoof them grabbed for Leandra, who hissed, teeth bared. My silverdagger plunged into an attacker’s throat and he collapsed to theground, spewing blood. My shoulder throbbed.
“Get OFF!” Leandra screamed, kicking.Jumping forward, I stabbed one of them directly through the heart.Another swept me into a chokehold. I slid my knife under his arm.His detached hand hit the ground with a disgustingly wetthunk.
Someone punched my side. A warm dampnessspread down my back. It was a blur of limbs. Someone’s ankle hookedaround mine and knocked me down. My back slammed into the mud. Iwheezed for air. From my view on the ground, I watched the shadowsagainst the trees. I tried to stand up but couldn’t; the pain in myshoulder was blinding. Two skulls were smashed together in theshadows with supernatural strength. Then, three bodies scurryingaway like rabbits.
Leandra stood over me, panting. “Where didthey get you?” she asked. She was covered in blood that drippeddown her chin and dress. “Olympia, are you still with me?Olympia?”
Her beautiful, bloody face was the lastthing I saw as everything faded to black.
Chapter Six
A Sexy Bandaging & theReceptionist from Hell
IT TOOK MY EYES A minute to adjust when I came to. Iwas in a dark space lit by a single candle, and my shoulder hurtlike a bitch. Someone was trying to take off my jean jacket. Iyelped at the pain.
“Sorry,” Leandra said sheepishly. “I’m goingto take a look at you. You’ve been stabbed. Can you help me getthis jacket off?”
I had a glimpse of her face in thecandlelight. She’d cleaned all the blood and dirt off of herselfand looked flawless as usual. We were in a lavish but simple room,and I was propped up in a bed that had an elaborate frame and softsilken sheets. “Where are we?” I asked as Leandra slid the sleeveoff of my uninjured side.
“We’re in my lair,” she said. She lifted thefabric from the wound, and a fresh gush of blood surged down myback. It had been very well stuck.
“You have a lair,” I repeated, clenching myteeth. “Seriously?”
“Every self-respecting vampire has a lair,”she snapped. “I’m not the one wearing clothes that went out ofstyle twenty years ago.”
“Jean jackets are back in, Leandra. Fashionis cyclical.” I looked at the jacket mournfully. It had a jaggedhole in it and was stained beyond repair. And it had been myfavorite jacket, too.
“This tank top needs to come off too,”Leandra ordered. I helped her lift the shirt off my head butthought I would faint again from the pain. My bra sagged in theback from the amount of blood.
“I need to lie down,” I said.
“Hold on a second.” She dipped a rag into abowl and wrung it out. “Let me treat this first.” And then, withoutwarning, she pressed the alcohol-soaked rag into my shoulder, and Iscreamed.
“What the fuck! Want to give me awarning?”
“You’re such a baby,” she said. Her facelooked odd, her pupils dilated, her breathing on the shallow side.“Just let me finish up here. I might have to stitch it up.”
“How comeyouknow how to sewstitches?” I said. “Am I supposed to trust that you know whatyou’re doing?”
She pressed the rag back to my shoulder witha little more force than was necessary, and that shut me right up.“What kind of idiot lives for a hundred twenty-four years withoutlearning some first aid? Don’t belittle me. I’m not a monster onlycapable of destruction.”
There was a sniffing noise behind me. Iturned and gawked. Leandra had the bloody rag to her nose and wasbreathing it in enthusiastically. “STOP sniffing my blood! What’sthe matter with you?” I snatched the rag from her clutches. Herreaction made sense now; the room had an overpowering metallicscent. “You’re a pervert,” I accused.
“It’s just in my nature. It isn’t like youwere going to use that blood anyway,” she said. There was a new ragnow, doused in water, that she was much gentler with. “I wonder ifmaybe you should see a real doctor for this. It looks deep.”
“Just stitch it up.”
“Can I lick it? Just once? It’s stillbleeding.”
