Page 34 of Blood Illusions

I curled my fingers into his shirt. “I…I don’t know. The thing looked like you but with sharp teeth and black eyes.”

He slowly released me. “He did? Because if that’s me, I look like Lou Chaney’s Phantom of the Opera.”

I nodded. “But with fangs. Damon, there’s something strange going on here.”

“You think? Smells like we’ve got a short circuit from hell here.” Damon’s voice was laced with his characteristic dry humor. He grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the door. “This safe house is turning into the House of Electric Nightmares, and we need to bail before we get fried.”

I dug my heels into the hard floor, but I still slid like an ice skater. “Damon, I need to get dressed.”

I wanted to get out of the blood-stained robe. I was tired of wearing blood.

He released me with a sigh. “Fine, but I’m going with you.”

An unexpected warmth flushed through me as I answered him with a small smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I picked up the blood bag I’d dropped when the creature attacked me.

I looked down at the headless vampire’s motionless body, my scowl deepening when I noticed the gleam of silver protruding from its back. I pointed. “Is that one of my arrows?”

He nodded. “Justice told me to use the crossbow.” His voice was laden with awe. “After you left, the thing lit up like a Christmas tree.”

Confusion furrowed my eyebrows. “Why?”

My brother shrugged, unaffected by the strange magical display. “He said the crossbow can sense evil.”

“I thought I was the only one who could use it,” I murmured, still bewildered.

Damon flashed me an amused look and tapped his chest. “Must be because we’re twins.”

I gave him a mischievous grin. “Maybe. And maybe that means I can use the sword you picked out.”

He half-heartedly rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yes, but only if I let you use it.”

Justice was exactly where we left him, slumped against the bedroom wall. His face was almost translucent. His lips were parted slightly, and he breathed so shallowly I would have thought he wasn’t alive at all if not for the soft rise and fall of his chest.

I carefully rested my hand on his broad shoulder. “Justice. Here.”

Justice opened his eyes, and his gaze burned with a heated intensity I hadn’t seen before. I handed him the bag of blood, and he eagerly grabbed it from my hands. His fangs descended from his gums as he tore open the top. Blood pooled into the creases of his palms as he drank hungrily, gulping greedy mouthfuls until the bag was empty.

Damon gave him an uneasy look. “Easy there, Dracula. It’s a snack, not your last meal. You’re sucking on that thing like it’s a five-star blood buffet.”

Justice’s fangs retracted as he finished the blood bag, dribbling scarlet down his chin. “Sorry. Starving.” His arms dropped to the side, and the empty bag fell into his lap.

I didn’t want to go back into the kitchen with that pretend Damon corpse, but I forced myself to ask, “Do you need another bag?”

He shook his head. “No, this is sufficient. I’ll start to heal in a minute.”

“Get dressed, sis,” Damon directed. “Then we’ll find someplace to hide out.”

Justice exhaled loudly. “Won’t do you any good.”

Damon flashed him an evil eye. “Why not?”

He gestured toward me. “Because she bears the mark of the rose. For some reason, these creatures can find her. It’s like a beacon for them.”

Damon narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that?”

“Because my attacker told me.” Justice licked his dry lips. “We need to find out…how they got into the house.” Something in his voice intrigued me. Perhaps something he wasn’t telling us?

I glanced nervously at Damon. “So why do we want to stay here?”

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