Bulletproof Damsel Read online

  I didn’t need to put into words what we were both thinking. We shouldn’t have come here, not even if it was my mother missing. We should have assembled a team and come in carefully, but I hadn’t thought my mother was missing.

  I’d figured she’d just been ignoring my calls or had harmed herself by working a spell that took more than one witch to cast. I’d never assumed there would be a Van Helsing close to where we lived, let alone several of them.

  I exhaled, slowly opening my bedroom door as screeching started. My hands lifted, covering my ears to stop the pain that struck so hard my vision swam. I dropped to my knees, along with the others inside the cabin. My head felt as if it was splitting in two. Nyx howled, and I turned, staring at her as blood dripped from her nose. The Van Helsings weren’t faring any better, either. I moaned the spell to undo the wards, groaning as the pain intensified.

  Bringing my hand up to my teeth, I bit into the palm to draw blood, slamming my hand down on the floor, which stopped the deafening, piercing scream of the safeguard spell. No one moved, not until Nyx screamed and grabbed me, staring down in horror at me.

  “What the hell is happening to your face, Remi?” she stammered.

  Gazing up at her, I saw the runic symbols written in golden writing over my flesh. My mouth opened, closed, and then repeated the attempt to speak several more times. I watched as she wiped away warm liquid from my eyes, staring as I started to sit up, only to be gently pushed back to the floor by Rhys and Cole, who studied my face.

  “That’s new,” Rhys said carefully, his finger tracing my forehead.

  I pushed his hand away, slowly getting back to my feet. The dark room exploded in violet light, changing to an eerie blue as glyphs moved along the walls and ceiling. I stepped back, colliding against Cole, who wrapped his arms around me, ignoring Rhys’s warning glare over my shoulder.

  The glyphs pulsed, and every single pulse seemed to drain me until I swayed on my feet, and they vanished as quickly as they’d come. Rhys moved to the bedroom doorway I’d tried to enter, and twisted the knob, pushing it open.

  I stared into a nursery, frowning as my head tilted to the side. Cole continued holding me until I shoved him away, pathetically weakened by whatever was happening inside the house. Entering the room, I moved to the crib, lifting the blue blankets before bringing it to my nose.

  “Okay, this wasn’t like this when I left.” Sure, I hadn’t explored the room last night, but how had I missed a crib, or that my entire room was converted into a nursery?

  “How long has it been since you were home?” Cole asked beside my ear, causing a shiver to race down my spine as his heated breath fanned against my flesh.

  “Almost five years,” I swallowed. “She never mentioned a baby. My mother would have mentioned being pregnant. It would be a huge celebration. When my sisters have babes, it’s a full family gathering, and we party for like a week. They have not had any in years, though, nor has my mother been around men, that I am aware. It’s also almost Beltane, which is a huge celebration for witches. So she would be here making preparations.” My face filled with heat as I turned, eyeing Rhys with the reality of what would happen if I was stuck in his house during Beltane.

  “The festival of fucking,” Cole chuckled, heat pooling in his eyes as he smiled at me. “That’s this week, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, frowning while turning my attention to Rhys, who studied the pink in my cheeks. Ignoring the heat that pooled in my apex at his narrowed stare, I opened the door to my mother’s room, stopping in my tracks as I noticed the blood covering the bed. Daylight had added more sinister sights to the once cozy cabin in the woods.

  “That can’t be good,” Nyx whispered beside me.

  The blood left my face, along with the feeling as my pulse thundered in my ears. Nausea rolled through me violently. It took everything I had in me to move to the bed. I walked to the other side, yanking the blankets back to see what was moving beneath the covers, and screamed as snakes slithered off the mattress.

  Rhys reacted faster than I could, yanking me away as a snake shot forward. I cried out as he pushed me behind him. His thumb ran over my wildly racing pulse, and I calmed from his silent reassurance as he issued an order. The knights moved into the room, grabbing the reptiles and disposing of them outside. I didn’t tell Rhys that snakes terrified me, or that they usually signaled a snake in the ranks. They were a warning to anyone within our bloodline that someone in the family was compromised. Or worse, someone had turned against us. As in me, who had brought home a Van Helsing?

  Spinning on my heel, I exited the room, moving toward the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I brought my hand up to my mouth at what I found. Body parts sat in jars, blood coating them as if whoever had been bottling them hadn’t cared about cleanliness. The smell was obnoxious and made my stomach heave repeatedly. Rhys reached over my shoulder, closing the grisly scene.

  “Fucking witches,” he muttered. “Dead vampires, jarred body parts, and a missing Silversmith that may or may not be breeding. A very young, mortal Silversmith, who tried to kill the Van Helsing alpha, along with two other House of Van Helsing males,” Rhys pointed out without sugar-coating his words while staring me down. “Anything else you want to add the growing list of what the fucks, Remington?”

  “No. That pretty much sums it up nicely. I need to go down into the armory, and I don’t suggest you come with me. It’s highly booby-trapped against anyone else getting in. I don’t know if I can disable the wards, and I’d hate for you to fuck my throat, and all that jazz,” I hissed, glaring at him as his lips curled into a dark, sinister smirk.

  “Your throat was surprisingly welcoming. You sure you don’t want to try that one again?”

  “No. Once was enough for me. At least for this lifetime, asshole,” I muttered, pushing past him to shove the fridge out of the way, exposing the hidden doorway that led downstairs. Pausing, I frowned, finding the door missing from the hinges. “That’s not good at all.”

  “Edger, enter, and tell me what you find down below. Remi, back the hell up in case something comes up the stairs,” Rhys ordered as Cole and Acyn stepped in front of me.

  Rhys’s hand didn’t release me, not until I jerked my arm out of his grasp, and refused to look or acknowledge his presence. My fingers lifted to my throat, finding it sore but undamaged. I could feel the heat of his stare, noting that I was touching the injury he’d given me, and yet I refused to meet his pretty eyes. My mind ran wild with scenarios of what was happening and came up blank.

  There were snakes in my mother’s bed, covered in blood. I was pretty certain it was deadman’s blood, something used to inject into a vampire, rendering them paralyzed. Vampires had attacked during daylight hours. The question was, were they sent to protect the house, or to keep us out of it?

  Screaming sounded from below, and then the horrifying scent of burning flesh filled the room. We all remained silent, staring at the empty stairway until something started moving toward us. Rhys pushed me further behind him, protectively, as Edger moved up the stairs, crawling his way to us. By the time he’d finally reached the top of the stairs, his flesh was little more than leather covering his skeleton. Smoke rose from his skin, and my stomach rolled, fighting the bile that entered my mouth. My arm lifted, covering my mouth while my horrified stare remained on the corpse.

  “What the actual hell?” I whispered, looking down the stairs. Someone stood at the bottom of the staircase, bright glowing red eyes peering through a hood before all hell broke loose.

  The cabin began to shudder and shake as Rhys grabbed me without warning, rushing toward the door as he breached the threshold. The entire house heaved, and wood started creaking and splintering. Rhys dove toward the open door of the Humvee, slamming the door shut behind us. He barely had time to shove me to the floorboard before the window shattered as wood shot through it, and the car door.

  It sounded like a bomb was going off outside. All I could do was hold on to Rhys, who pres
sed his forehead against mine, watching me as more shrapnel hit the vehicle. His dark head lifted, and he started to speak as something shot through the car door, and he grunted.

  Blood splattered my flesh, and my hands shook as I turned him over. Peering down at his stomach, I cried out, finding a large chunk of wood sticking out from his side. I looked around the car for anything I could use to stop the bleeding, but found nothing. His hand moved to his side, ripping out the wood while I lifted my shirt over my head, holding the knit top to his stomach. Rhys groaned as I pushed the fabric into the wound, lifting my eyes to find him observing the tears sliding down my cheeks.

  “Please don’t die,” I whispered through the emotion wrapping around me. I leaned against Rhys, adding my weight to the wound. His hands slid up my sides, pausing at the sides of my breasts.

  “I can’t die, Remi. I’m a Van Helsing.” His eyes watched mine as I slowly nodded, using my arm to wipe away the tears. “You worried about me, little one?”

  “No. I don’t even like you right now,” I lied, chewing my lip while releasing the breath I’d been holding as relief washed through me.

  “Liar,” he whispered, cupping his hand against my cheek. I pulled back to look at him. “Look outside and tell me what you see, Remington.”

  I leaned up, peering through the shattered window of the Humvee. The entire cabin had exploded and turned into little more than firewood. Nyx was on the ground, grunting beside Cole and Acyn. Men had moved around them, preparing what looked like medical stretchers to carry them out on.

  Something touched my nipple, and I yelped, staring down at Rhys’s lips as he smirked around the puckered flesh that his teeth had captured. I started to lean back, but his hands prevented me from doing so, holding me in place as he opened his mouth and sucked the pebbled flesh between his lips, running his tongue over it leisurely.

  My eyes rounded to the size of saucers as pleasure danced through me. His tongue flicked my nipple, slowly sliding over the peak. Moaning, I whimpered as my body shuddered with need. I felt his smile against me and pulled away, staring at him before lifting the shirt from the wound, finding it still seeping blood.

  “You don’t have time to be sucking nipples, you’re bleeding out like the stuck pig you are!” I huffed in an aggravated tone.

  “I’ve survived a lot worse than being hit by shrapnel. Jerald?” he called in a commanding tone.

  “Yes, Sir Van Helsing?” a male voice answered from within the Humvee, causing the blush in my cheek to intensify at not being alone.

  “Drive us home, the others will meet us there momentarily,” Rhys stated, rolling me beneath his heavy body, uncaring that he was getting me bloody in the process. “Call ahead, and tell them three wounded Van Helsings will need feeders available, and one female nymph as well. Have the feeders accessible and waiting. My knights will require healing and feeders.”

  “You’re going to feed?” I asked through a tightening in my throat that bothered me.

  “Unless you’re offering to feed me, Remi, I have to, so that I can heal. I’m cursed with immortality, but healing isn’t something that happens naturally. Not since I was cursed to become a monster by your family.”

  I stared at him for a moment and then considered what it was he was asking. “Sex, right? That’s how you feed to heal?”

  His azure eyes searched mine, finding the wariness burning within them before he snorted. “Indeed, but don’t worry. You aren’t on my menu tonight, Silversmith. I doubt you’re skilled enough to handle my demon in bed.”

  I bristled before considering my words carefully. “I doubt he could handle a real woman, anyway. You can feed from some basic feeder bitch, because after the shit you did today, you deserve some basic, nameless feeder, asshole. I could handle your demon at his worst. The thing is, I don’t want to. I don’t want either of you ever again.”

  He smiled cruelly, lifting to press his erection against my belly. His eyes dared me to feed him, but I wasn’t stupid enough to allow him that part of me. I may not like that he had to feed from someone else, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it bothered me, either. I turned to stare at the floorboard, dismissing him the best I could manage with him looming over the top of me, watching me closely.

  His hands lifted, and he peered over the edge of the seat before lowering back down, grabbing my chin between his fingers while he smiled. Before I could judge his intentions, he claimed my lips in a bone-melting kiss that turned me inside out and left me more confused than I was already. Rhys closed his eyes, resting his forehead against mine.

  The Humvee rolled to a stop, and Rhys lifted out of the car, turning to issue orders to the people milling about in front of the mansion. I watched him walking toward the house while a knight moved in beside me. I was silently escorted into the house and escorted up the stairs to the room I’d stayed in last night. I scanned the wreckage and moved toward the bed, pulling the pillow over my head as I screamed in frustration. I almost wished for Winchester to find me, just so I could work out against her, burning the pent-up need and energy that was building every moment I was stuck here with Rhys.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hours of nonstop grotesque and obnoxious screaming came from the room beside mine. Rhys’s feeder screamed his name so loudly that my head actually ached from her cries, and if I never had to hear his name again, I’d be happy. After the fourth hour of listening to flesh meeting flesh, and her screaming she was coming, I abandoned my room.

  I hated the idea of him feeding from someone else. It also bothered me that I would even care that he was with someone other than me. He was my sworn enemy, and I wasn’t here willingly. So why the hell would I care? I didn’t; I told myself. I’d said it a million times in the last couple of hours. I’d said it the moment he opened that door, staring at me with a look questioning if I’d join him or not. I’d verbally told him to get fucked, and he had. So what if he literally had to fuck to heal? It wasn’t my problem. That was what I repeated inside my head like a mantra.

  “Miss, you can’t be in here,” a woman called from the doorway of the room where I stared at the portraits of the men in armor. Her eyes held mine before she noted that I peered at the pictures inside the room, smiling. “It’s the Van Helsings,” she pointed out, using her cane to move closer to me.

  I took in her silverish-blue hair and aged form. Laugh lines had added character to her face and made her aging process look more beautiful. Her body, while tired, moved surprisingly fast toward me with a soft look in her eyes while she peered up at the family adorning the walls.

  “All of them?” I queried, not wanting to return to my room.

  “Yes, miss,” she said, pointing to the largest picture with pride burning in her soft grey stare. “That’s them together, painted with their parents.”

  The picture was of thirteen sons that stood around a small, petite woman with red hair and glowing blue azure eyes. Next to her was a man I assumed was her husband and the boys’ father, considering the dark hair and skin that spoke of eastern heritage.

  They looked happy in the picture, carefree. Rhys’s hand was on his mother and father’s shoulders, but his mother stared at Cole with visible love. Thirteen Van Helsing sons around her, and she stared at her youngest with the love of a mother, who probably had the patience of a saint to handle that asshole.

  “This one is right before they lost her,” the woman pointed to another portrait, nodding to one where Rhys stood off in the background, while another of his brothers stood behind their parents. The brother looked cold, merciless, and bitter. His eyes burned with malice as he stared at the artist. “Mikel. He’s the one you’re looking at. He’s a cold-hearted man, but he adores his family.”

  “How did you know I was looking at him?” I asked carefully, wondering if she was clairvoyant.

  “Because you shivered,” she chuckled, turning smiling grey eyes toward me.

  “Sons of the first House of Van Helsing from
front to back are Mikel, Nikolas, who we now call Cole, Acyn, Rhys, Silas, Cadmus, Illeron, Sorin, Xanth, Arryn, Kaden, Dagen, and Xavier. Their mother is pregnant with Lady Nyota in the picture. She died five days after birthing the little princess. They were murdered by that bastard Donte Silversmith for no good reason other than jealousy. Arthur was a good husband to her, and you can tell by their brood of children they adored one another. Handsome bunch, are they not?” she asked, turning to find me grimacing at her assessment.

  “Very much so,” I agreed honestly. “And this one, she must be the Lady Nyota?”

  The picture was of a female with black hair, much like Rhys, but where his eyes were blue, hers were a startling crystalline blue that held an emotion that left me shivering. She was posed in a chair with the brothers standing behind her.

  Gone was the carefree Van Helsings, and in their place were cold, hate-filled men that didn’t care what the artist captured. Cole was the only one with any emotion other than hate filling his eyes. His eyes held a sadness that caused my stomach to tighten with the pain he exuded.

  “We should get you out of here before one of the brothers finishes feeding,” she whispered while placing her hand on my shoulder.

  “Indeed, since I instructed you to keep my guest out of the family room, Isa,” Rhys’s voice slithered down my spine, noting the coldness in his tone.

  “Don’t get angry at Isa. I was already in the room when she found me. I couldn’t stomach the vile noises coming from the room next to mine,” I stated, turning to glare at him.

  “Ask me if I care, Silversmith,” he grunted, and Isa turned, looking at me coldness burning in her eyes.

  “You’re one of those bloody bastard Silversmiths that killed our Lord and Lady?” she growled, spitting at my feet before she turned on her heel, leaving the room.