Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(75)

Then Christian made the fatal mistake of looking into her eyes.

Suddenly he couldn't move a muscle. They smoldered with a terrible black anger even as her mouth returned his kiss. It was as if they were two separate beings, the sweetness of her mouth upon his, and the darkness of her terrible eyes draining the life out of him. Christian could feel her heart racing, the fury of her blood uncontrollable, and he knew that if she couldn't rein it in somehow, he would be lost. Already his hunger eviscerated him, he could feel the holes in his gut as those eyes, so blackly terrifying—hers but not hers, sucking everything from him, taking, feeding ... killing. He felt wetness on his face.

Somehow, she'd become the vampire.

Victoria could barely control the tremendous rush of the blood driving her to take every last bit of life from Christian. Its heat burned her eyes as she tore her mouth from the sudden blue coldness of his, her left arm hanging limply, and stared in horror at the rivers of red bleeding from his eyes, nose, and mouth. It pooled to the ground in a sticky, viscous river beneath him, and she could feel him writhing in pain above her. She knew she was killing him, and it sickened her as much as it thrilled her. Her breath came in shallow pants as the fear took root—the blood magic wasn't stopping! Helpless, Victoria saw the dullness in Christian's eyes and knew that he was growing weaker with each passing second as the blood drained from him like water through a sieve.

Her left arm ached, limp at her side, and Victoria forced the blood magic to heal the injury, directing its fury away from its consumption, from its inhuman desire for death. As her bones mended, she tried to coerce the powerful blood into submission. She gritted her teeth, focusing and pulling the power into her, compelling the beast. It rebelled, furious. She felt like she was splintering under its fury, every cell in her felt like it was on fire and growing weaker by the second. It was relentless! Oh god, she couldn't do it. She'd thought she could control something she barely even understood and now Christian was going to die because of her reckless stupidity. How could she have been so arrogant?

Christian was as pale as death and his lips moved in soundless agony. She could hear the one word echoing over and over in his head like a staccato as if it were the only thing keeping him conscious.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

The cold realization hit her then—she wasn't strong enough. Christian was dying! In desperation, she called out to the one person who could help them.

Leto!

Victoria, what's wrong? Leto's voice was alarmed.

Need ... help ... blood killing someone ... Please ...

Where are you?

No time ... please, Leto ... so weak ...

Invoke the amulet. Evoco. Do it now!

"Brigid, help me! Evoco Brigid! I summon you!" she cried, grasping the stone in her palm.

The amulet surged. Victoria's whole body jerked like a puppet on a string as Brigid's power lanced through her. She was so weak, she could barely hold her body upright and she collapsed on top of Christian's inert frame. The magic invaded every part of her. She felt Brigid's will subdue the blood roughly, forcing it to release Christian. Like a dog, it cowed before her, but still Victoria could feel its terrible power churning beneath its submission. Brigid's control was only temporary, she saw that now, but at least it had saved Christian. He was alive. Barely.

Blood was the only thing that would save him. Brigid's magic swirled, waiting.

"Transeo," Victoria said weakly, focusing on their destination. Heat saturated her body as each cell responded to her unspoken command, and she pulled Christian closer. Then there was a flash of nothingness and then they were lying on the floor in Christian's den. Victoria quelled her immediate nausea, checking to make sure everything had made the transition, and screamed for Anton, hoping that he was somewhere in the house.

The concern on Anton's face was unmistakable as he saw Christian lying prone, his face and clothes covered in blood. Wordlessly, he looked at Victoria and left the room, returning with an armful of disposable blood bags, several pints worth. Almost an hour later, Anton was done. Christian was a lot less pale than when she had brought him back, and even managed a weak smile for her as she sat down on the sofa next to him.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I almost killed you, you could have died ..." She trailed off. She'd failed. The amulet had saved them both. She shuddered at how close she'd been to losing him.

Christian held her chin in his hand, stroking the reddened welt on the side of her temple. She winced, she had forgotten about that. When Christian had slammed into her, she had hit her head on a rock but hadn't really thought about it at the time or much after it until now.

He watched as she healed it, the welt disappearing as the skin repaired itself at the area of impact. He was amazed at how easily the magic flowed through her, like a natural extension of her breathing. The rapidity with which her wound had healed before his eyes was a true testament to her skills. He glanced at her left arm, which seemed to be perfect. From the little he knew about healing magic, a broken arm would take hours, days even, to mend properly, but she had done it in minutes. A small part of him still felt a shudder of alarm as he remembered exactly what she could do. Again, he felt that same unfamiliar emotion at the base of his spine. It was one he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Fear.

"Are you okay?" she asked, noticing his expression.

"I will be fine. Bag blood gives me a headache," he said evasively. "I keep it around for emergencies because it does what it is supposed to."