Blood Bond (PULSE, Book 5) Read online

  Blood Bond

  PULSE 5

  kailin gow

  Blue Blood (PULSE #5)

  Published by THE EDGE

  THE EDGE is an imprint of Sparklesoup Inc.

  Copyright © 2011 Kailin Gow

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Do NOT post on websites or share this book without permission from copyright holder, as it is a copyright violation. We take piracy seriously. Fines of copyright violation is the penalty of over $250,000.

  All characters and storyline originated and is an invention from Kailin Gow. Any resemblance to people alive or dead is purely coincidence.

  For information, please contact:

  THE EDGE at Sparklesoup

  14252 Culver Dr. A732

  Irvine, CA 92604

  www.theEDGEbooks.com

  First Edition.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  978-1597489454

  DEDICATION

  This book series is dedicated to all the nameless volunteer blood donors, my doctor, and nurses at Las Colinas Medical Center in Texas who helped me pull through when I had suffered extreme blood loss, blacked out, and nearly hit my head on the floor. Your team gave me bags of blood for transfusion, which helped restore me to a level of safety.

  My body craved the blood to keep alive, yet the thought of having to receive the blood from others because my own body couldn't generate it fast enough, made me empathize with vampires like Jaegar and Stuart.

  When faced with death by blood loss, you realize how precious that blood in your veins and that beat in your heart are. Thank you blood donors around the world for providing this pulse for me and everyone who may at one point or another require your gift.

  Sincerely,

  Kailin

  Prologue

  The wind whipped against them as they moved; the stars grew bright and them dim again, shimmering faintly against the velvety sky. They had vanished over the Atlantic Ocean and felt the salt spray them, but that was an hour ago – and in that time Kalina's muscles had begun to ache with the effort of holding on. She could not let go – letting go meant falling. And even if her muscles had slacked, her desire for him would have kept her close. Even with this exhaustion in her bones, these muscles clinging to him as they flew against the rising of the sun, trying to outstrip its heat and danger, Kalina wanted nothing more than to stay close to him. She could smell the musk upon him, the delicate smell of leather on the jacket he wore, the deeper-still intoxication of the smell of his blood. For she could smell the blood, now – the Carrier blood within her had come to its full fruition, and although she did not hunger for it as vampires did (a hunger to bite, to eat, to consume), it nevertheless prickled her desires. Octavius’ arms were muscular and taut around her, and as they found land once more beneath them (speeding rapidly through Spain, through France, then eastwards still until they had dotted the Black and the Caspian Seas), Kalina could not help but wish that it would always be like this. She never wanted to move; she never wanted to change. She wanted to rest, contented, in his arms, in the glory of being near him, the glory of nearness.

  “We're almost there,” Octavius whispered, and his voice thrilled her. It was tinged with sadness – Kalina knew why – and yet in its melancholy Kalina heard something deeper than mere misfortune. It was the sadness of centuries of loss, centuries reawakened by this latest blow. She knew how he had suffered; she knew that he had witnessed much loss, much pain, since those days of Ancient Rome during which he had known a life like hers.

  She ached to comfort him and knew she could not. She had lived nearly eighteen years; he had lived centuries. How could she find some commonality with him – how could she explain that she, too, understood what it was like to live apart, to witness the death of those one loved, to know that one's life would never be fully human.

  For she was a Carrier; she felt that now, more keenly than she had ever felt it. She was not human. She was not a vampire – but something unnatural and strange had made its way into her blood. She did not move as humans moved; she did not think or feel as humans thought or felt. The realization – coming to her fully as she remembered the latest fight with Mal, the dark strength that had taken over her – made her sick and proud at the same time. Proud that she could fight, that she could defend herself, that she could hold her own amid the so many who had died to keep her alive.

  And sick.

  Because if she was not human, not vampire, but only this strange and in-between creature – what was she? She felt repulsed by her own body, her own nerve-endings and the scent of her blood. What was she that so attracted vampires, the scent of her blood driving them to such madness? What was she that she could not live, as her brother did, a normal life, peace and quiet and medical school?

  But did she even want it? She had never wanted normalcy as a child; she had wanted to be special, to be different, to be great. And now, flying to the heart of Mongolia, the desert sands harsh against their skin, blistering against her hands and feet, Kalina felt at last the full weight of that difference. But she didn't want to be anywhere else. She was in Octavius’ arms – the arms of the man she loved but could not have. The man who would not let her have him.

  The vampire.

  They landed two hours later at an old caravanserai – the ruins of what had once been a great Silk Road palace, welcoming merchant travelers with their caravans piled high with silks and spice and gold. Most of the caravanserai had since collapsed, but a portion of it had been built up again in its old historic style. The archways stood glorious and imposing before her.

  “We're about two hundred miles east of Ulan Baatur,” Octavius said. “You know, there's a legend that Gengis Khan used to stay here.” He gave a grim smile. “More than a legend. You see, I knew him. I stayed here then. He was one of us, after all.”

  The steppes were dark and forbidding. She looked out at the moonlight and could see only endless stretches of tundra sand and the prickling sensation of incipient frost. In the distance she could hear the footsteps of horses – wild, she imagined – and she shivered at the loneliness of it all.

  But she was not lonely. She was with him.

  “It's one of the Order's outposts, now,” said Octavius. He did not look at her. She knew that he was remembering, as she was remembering, the last time they had gone alone together abroad. But that was a different story. That was a different life. Octavius had taken her away, shown her the world through his eyes, taken her to museums and told her stories of his old life. With him, she had felt that she stood on the precipice of something greater, of something so much more than this life, this century, this world. She had listened to anecdotes involving Dante and Caesar (he had fought with Julius Caesar!); she had studied him with a mix of intellectual curiosity and fear that had, gradually, turned to love. He had sought to make her love him – to compel her to give to him her Life's Blood, the secret of mortality.

  And then she had loved him – she had! -and he had refused her. He had stopped all at once his pursuit of her, and now she was pursuing him in his retreat! Jaegar and Aaron and Stuart (Stuart! Where was he now?) - they had all loved her easily, too easily. They were Octavius’ offspring, after all; they shared in his blood-bond with her.

  And with them she had developed a series of loves – each leading into the next, her love of one based in a complimentary love of the other, so that she could not conceive of her relations
hip with any one of them apart from her love of the rest. She did not love Jaegar-alone, or Stuart-alone, but loved this connection she felt with all of them – the bond of blood that called them to her and called her back to them.

  Octavius’ blood. His blood in them. Their maker's love for her. The bond they all shared.

  He showed her around the palace, pointing out her room to her (the very end of the hall, she noted. As far from his bedroom as possible – did he hate her that much? Or trust himself so little?), ordering the servants to prepare something for her to eat (and she knew he was hungry too; she saw it in his eyes and wanted to harness it).

  “Jaegar has sent telepathic word to me,” Octavius said gravely. “Mal is in hiding at the moment regaining his strength. We should be safe for the night.”

  One night – that was all she wanted from him! One night to sit by his side and speak to him and convince him that he could love her as he had done in the old days, that he could let himself love her! They would be safe; they would have until morning. She would convince him; she had to convince him! Her grief over almost losing Stuart made the thing more immediate. She had lost too many of the ones she loved. She could not lose him too.

  Her mind flashed back to Jaegar. He loved her too, and she felt it. She felt his desire for her; felt a longing for their easy friendship. Why couldn't it be this easy with Octavius?

  They sat together in the dining room as the servants brought Kalina a dish piled high with aromatic rice and herbs, scented and colored with saffron. Octavius sipped a glass of vampire wine as she dug into her food with relish. The journey had been tiring – for him, she imagined, as much as for her.

  “Does it ache?” The awkwardness between them was palpable. She wanted to rush to him, to soothe the aching muscles with her fingers – with her mouth...

  He shook his head. She could see his desire for her in her eyes; she wanted to harness it, to control it. Why did he persist in refusing her? She shook back her hair – aware, tantalizingly aware that she was exposing her neck to him, exposing this quickening beat of her blood.

  We have work to do,” Octavius’ voice was pained. “We must track down all the children – who knows how many Carriers have been infected?”

  “Not infected,” said Kalina. “It's a gift, not a curse.”

  Her mother and father had given their lives to the syringe that could turn those with recessive Carrier genes into full-fledged Carriers. Her mother...no, she could not think of that now! That young, hard, dark-eyed figure who had fought at her side, who had revealed to her the existence of the other carriers – could that really be her mother? She thought of the woman who had raised her – the kind, round, cherry-cheeked woman that she had called “Mommy” and shook her head. No, Max – whatever she was to Kalina – was not her mother.

  But she was the one who had made the other Carriers. The ones who would be in danger, now, if Kalina didn't stop it.

  “A gift, perhaps,” said Octavius. “But a dangerous one. For themselves and for those around them.”

  Kalina knew what would happen to the Life's Blood children once they turned sixteen and started manifesting symptoms. Mad renegade vampires like Mal would hunt them down, seeking the eternal powers that were given to those who had enough of the intoxicating mixture, drunk straight from the childrens' veins. Or else, worse, they would be caught by saner but more profit-minded vampires, who would keep them as slaves, take vials of their blood, and use these valuable morsels of Life's Blood as currency: selling hundreds of them to powerful vampires or else using them to induce weaker ones – content with a mere taste of the drug – to fight in their armies. Both prospects filled Kalina with horror.

  “It's strange,” she said at last, “to think of these other Carriers. For so long I thought I was the only one – or almost the only one.”

  “You're likely one of the last natural ones left. These Carriers your mother has created – we don't know how they'll work. Whether they'll have the same...abilities?”

  “The same mutations, you mean?” Kalina gave a sad laugh.

  “It will be a long road.” Octavius looked down. “I am glad to have you by my side during it.”

  Kalina's heart leaped. So he had missed her! She knew it – she had seen it in his face. But still Octavius did not look at her.

  “Always.” She took his hand, and he did not shy away. He looked embarrassed; he started to say something and then his words failed him.

  “I am sorry I have been so...absent, lately.” He started again. “I am glad to have you close enough that I do not need to protect you from a distance.”

  “I can protect myself!”

  “I feel better about having you here. With me.”

  “That's the only place I've ever wanted to be, Octavius.” Her voice sounded older, Kalina realized. Softer. More womanly. She wasn't a girl anymore – if she had ever been a girl. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted him. “If you'll have me.”

  “It was never a question of that.” Octavius sighed. “I cannot make you happy – in the way that you need. And you cannot make me..no, not happy. Being with you makes me happy. But the true happiness, the happiness of breathing, of feeling a pulse once more within me. That happiness I cannot allow you to give me. That happiness I cannot allow myself...”

  “But we don't need that!” Kalina rose and went to him, sitting beside him on the long pillows that lined the room. “I don't need to make you human – not yet! I can wait.”

  “My dear, you will be long dead by the time I can allow myself to be made human.” He did not meet her eyes. “If ever. You have a lifetime – not a long one, from the point of view of a vampire, but one that could be long enough. You could be happy. You could give great happiness – your destiny is to love a vampire. To turn him – or her – human.”

  “But not you?” Kalina's voice trembled.

  “You don't know how I wish you could. But there are things greater than love in this world, Kalina, and greater than desire. Something vampires so rarely grasp.” He sighed. “I have turned many men into vampires for the purpose of saving my kind, and for saving the world from those vampires of my kind who wish to destroy it. I have destroyed their lives, their hopes, their promise. I have made them witness the deaths of their grand- and great-grandchildren. How can I take the release while they are still fighting there? While I am still needed to lead them?”

  “I don't care!” Kalina said. “I don't want to turn anybody – then! If not you!”

  “And lose your chance at happiness? At true love? Jaegar loves you, Kalina – and I know you love him. I know your love for him is strong. And he is the last one left...I am not jealous – or at least, my jealousy is blended with kindness, for I love Jaegar as I would love my own son. I want to give him the happiness I cannot have. And you – I know you love him as well as me.”

  “Not jealous?”

  “I cannot allow myself to be jealous, Kalina.” Octavius sighed. “I cannot allow...”

  “Enough with this allowing!” She twined her arms around his neck. “Listen, Octavius, I want you. And if I can't have you tomorrow then tomorrow I'll give you up. But we have tonight, don't we?”

  “Don't tempt me...”

  “I just want tonight.” She turned her dark eyes – the color of melted chocolate – upon him, and then she knew he was powerless to resist her. Centuries of battle – centuries of discipline and war and killing – and he could not resist her shoulder bared in the light of the faint-rising sun.

  He took her in his arms. “Kalina, this can't last.”

  “It doesn't have to.”

  “Kalina, I love you…”

  “I love you!”

  “...too much to hold you back.”

  “Let me decide!”

  She kissed him roughly, a series of quick, insistent kisses, that made it evident she knew better than he did what she had planned. His lips against her ear; her mouth on his chest, his whispers against her skin – the conf
essions, battered out of him by her siege, of his love.

  And then the door swung open.

  Chapter 1

  The servants were apologizing in rapid Mongolian – the vampire and the boy had been told to wait in the parlor; the vampire hadn't been able to wait and barged in while the butler had gone to order him tea! The humans tea, of course – and vampire wine for Master Jaegar. They hadn't meant to intrude – certainly would never let anyone burst in on the Master's private rooms under ordinary circumstances, especially in these dangerous times. But they knew Jaegar and didn't fear the human, so they hadn't been so careful.

  “Never you mind!” Octavius waved the servants away. Jaegar stood with a wry and feline grin in the doorway, Justin weighed down with baggage behind him.

  “I say, Octavius,” Jaegar bounded in, plopping down on the cushions that lined the room. “that wasn't very polite of you! Whirling off like that. You may be ancient enough to carry a full-grown girl (no offense, Kalina, I know you're very light of frame) a few thousand miles in a couple of hours, but I certainly wasn't interested in carrying her much-bigger brother! (No offense, Justin, I'm sure you're loads of fun to hold in my arms, but I haven't been interested in that since the eighteen nineties, and even then just because all of Oscar's friends...Oscar Wilde? Heard of him? Great chap. A bit smug but he always had good snuff.)”

  Kalina couldn't help but smile. She hadn't seen Jaegar in this cocky a mood since they had first met. She could see behind his eyes that the arrogance masked a certain pain – he too, had been shaken by almost losing Stuart – but he wouldn't for the world have admitted it.

  “Jaegar!” Octavius said lightly. “How did you get here?”

  “The plane,” Justin sighed as he unloaded the baggage. “Flight to New York, change for a flight to Heathrow, change for a flight to Ulan Baatur. Luckily, Jaegar sprang for first class.”