Invincible (A Centennial City Novel) - By Fionn Jameson Page 0,98
I lose my patience.”
“You mean nerve,” murmured Ryder who opened the door for me. He bowed. “After you, my lady.”
I stared at the dark depths. Third car in less than half an hour. “After today, maybe I’ll stick to public transportation.”
Ryder looked at me curiously as he slid in behind me and closed the door. “Why do you say that?”
“Things seem to be calmer when I’m in a bus or taxi,” I said and then locked gazes with the driver. “Van.”
He nodded.
Eve turned in her seat and looked at me. “Right. So. Where are we going?”
I rolled down the window just enough to smell the air.
And that sweet sandlewood scent.
“Straight ahead for about 3 miles. I’ll let you know when to turn when you get closer.”
Van nodded again and we pulled away from the curb.
Eve never turned back, instead looking at me with that same look Ryder gave me. “How do you know where to go?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “We shared blood. Once his blood runs in my body, it’s like an invisible rope that binds us. I can always feel him.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Even after he turned vamp?”
I nodded.
“Hm,” she said slowly. “That’s…interesting. Ryder, you ever hear about anything like that?”
“Er, not recently.”
“What do you mean, not recently?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. About two hundred years ago, I knew this seer who could track people if she tasted their blood. But that’s kind of different, isn’t it?”
Eve raised a brow. “Wait. You knew the seer? Personally?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to her?”
“Oh, she died.”
Eve winced. “Was it natural?”
Ryder laughed. “Oh, it definitely wasn’t natural.”
“Dare I ask what went bad?”
“Turned out a bunch of vampires objected to being found.”
Her gaze slid to me. “Can you do that?”
An interesting question. “I…I don’t know. Never tried.”
“Have you ever done it with more than one person?”
“No,” I said and then caught myself. “Actually, that’s not correct. I did it once before. Three years ago. But it was quite unpleasant. I felt like I was being stretched in two different directions. I’d prefer not to do it with more than one person.”
“And how does that bond break?”
I stared down at my hands clenched in my lap. “When the other person dies.”
She was quiet for a moment. “I kind of hesitate to ask you this, but…”
Ryder snorted. “Yeah right. You don’t hesitate to ask anything.”
“You shut your piehole,” she said and turned her attention back to me. “What happened to those two people you shared this…link with?”
“They died.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. “Hm.”
Ryder snickered quietly next to me and I took the chance to smell the air drifting in through the open window. “Van, take a left at the next light. Then you’ll want to go another two hundred yards before taking a right.”
“Whoa,” said Ryder. “This route look familiar to you, Eve, or is it just me?”
She turned back to the street and then sighed.
“It’s not just you,” she said tightly, riffling through her coat pocket. “I’ve got to call Vincent.”
“Where are we going?” I asked Ryder, who shook his head slowly.
“God, I hope I’m wrong, because if I’m not…” he started. “Do you know what’s worse than shit hitting the fan?”
My heart plunged down to my feet. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, I don’t know, either.”
Eve cursed. “He’s not picking up!”
“Shit.” Ryder ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip. “Oh…shit…”
“Where are we going?” I asked again.
Van turned the right. “Where do I turn next?”
“Go straight. It stops about half a mile down.”
The sandlewood scent had gotten so thick I thought I could choke on it. I supposed it was a good sign, even if the smell made me want to gag.
Then I realized why the smell was so strong and fingernails dug into my palms as panic began to ride the corners of my mind. “He’s dying.”
Eve turned in her seat, the phone clenched tight in her left hand. “Jason?”
I nodded, mouth dry. “I need a weapon.”
“Can you shoot?”
“Just point and pull the trigger, right?”
She sighed. “Never mind. Okay, nix on the gun then. Van, do you have something for her to use?”
I felt his eyes on me. “I don’t like other people to use my swords.”
Ryder huffed. “Oh, get a grip, man. You’ve only got about three thousand of them. You’re not going to miss one. Besides, swords are meant to be used. They’re not meant to be kept behind glass and ogled like they’re a pair of double Ds.”