Everdark (Dark Ink Chronicles #2)

Everdark (Dark Ink Chronicles #2) Page 2

“Yeah,” Luc said with a laugh, giving me a twinkling-eyed look. “Kinks. That’s what they call it now. Kinks.”

It was only then I noticed the others. Phin, Luc, and Josie stood behind Seth, along with several of the teens who’d been on the verge of become newling vamps.

“Smokin’ hot as usual, babe,” Riggs Parker said from the small crowd. He pushed closer, his shaggy dark hair hanging across his eyes. With a quick flip of his head, he whipped his hair aside. “I’ll work the kinks out with you, Riley.”

Luc smacked Riggs on the back of the head. Everyone laughed. Riggs merely shrugged and grinned. “Can’t blame a dude for tryin’.”

So Riggs had made it. Still a freaking little pervert, and cocky as always, but he’d made it. I noticed the same pulsing point at his throat that I’d noticed on Seth, but I shook my head and forced myself not to fixate on it. I glanced around at the familiar faces, and some new ones, and then looked at Eli. “So, what is this? Some weird vampy version of Lord of the Flies? Or Vamp Camp?” Then, it hit me, and I scowled. “What kinks?”

“Whoa, time to go,” Luc said, and gave Riggs a push. “I think Eli can handle this. Come on, guys. Ricky’s got some ’splainin’ to do. Estelle has dinner ready, anyway.” With a series of shrill whoops, the Lord of the Flies boys, all bare to the waist and wearing various colors of board shorts, took off with Luc. I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what dinner was going to be. I glanced around. Zetty stood, arms crossed over his big chest and his eyes trained on me. I’d never seen Zetty dressed in anything except his traditional Tibetan clothes—a long red yak wool wrap and baggy black pants tucked into short leather boots. He now wore, like the others, a pair of baggy board shorts. His were red. The handwoven, multicolored sheath crossed his bare chest, encasing the traditional Nepali knife he never went anywhere without. He didn’t say a word. He, too, had a pulse point that drew my attention. His hand slipped up and covered the spot; then he glared at me. His shiny black brows were furrowed, and the unique red and yellow tattooed squares and dots that marked him as a once-Shiva follower sat stark against his tanned forehead. They made him look unapproachable; scary. And I’d apparently done something to piss him off.

Seth pulled me out of thought and into a tight hug. “I love you, Ri,” he said against my ear. “Swear to God, I’ll never leave you again.”

That boy always could melt my heart. I hugged him fiercely back. “You won’t have to,” I assured him, even though his concern really concerned me. I pulled back and studied him. “Now go. Eat. I’ll be right behind you.”

Seth held my gaze for several seconds. “You probably won’t be, but it’s okay. I’ll be there when you’re ready.” He smiled, presenting a sincere, winsome look that made him seem mature beyond his fifteen years. Then he turned to Zetty. “Let’s go, Zet-Man.” The two took off up the beach, Seth’s tanned body alongside Zetty’s, well, huge one, melding into the afterlight. I stared after my brother, my jaw dropping in wonder at the speed at which Seth ran—and how Zetty could almost keep up. The mystical man from Nepal had a long black braid that whipped from side to side as he ran. I stared until my vision blurred. “Whoa,” I muttered, and shook my head. “Weird.” In the distance, I saw another campfire, larger, close to the shore, its orange hues and blue sparks reaching toward the darkening sky. A small figure huddled close to the flames. Squinting, I made out the colorful fabric patches of Estelle’s familiar billowy skirt.

A nervous twinge gripped me. Something was up. I was purposely being kept apart from everyone. I wanted to spend time with my brother, and I missed my Gullah grandparents. “What’s wrong with me?” I asked Eli. The look in Seth’s eyes had disturbed me.

Strong arms slid around my waist from behind, and Eli pulled me against him tightly. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his lips close to my ear. I shuddered and leaned my head against his chest. “Tell me,” I said. “Everything. I can’t remember anything except waking up on Da Island, unable to move. And I don’t even know how long ago that was.”

Eli sighed and held me tighter. “Your body is going through d.t.’s, sort of,” he said. “Your recovery is going a little slower than we’d hoped. “You’ve been here almost two weeks.”

Damn. I’d lost two weeks out of my life. “D.t’s? From what?” I asked.

“The Arcoses’ venom. It has tainted your blood.”

“Seriously?” I asked, and, swear to God, my blood at that moment suddenly felt several degrees colder.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he said. He cocked his head and studied me. “You don’t remember me taking you to Da Island, after Bonaventure?”

I thought, then shook my head. “I guess I don’t.”

Eli nodded. “I’m glad. You were not in a good way, Riley. We had to contain you and the others, and staying in the city would have been risky. So we brought the almost-newlings—you, Seth, the others—to Da Island for rehab. You got the worst of it since both Arcoses infected you. Although your blood and their venom were mixed for only a short time, it was long enough for you to become addicted to it—intensely addicted, from the moment they bit you. Your body craves it now, and there’s no way to tell how long it will last. You’ve been in d.t.’s the whole time with only short periods of lucidity. Like now.”

“Is that what was wrong with me a few minutes ago?” I asked, my throat tightening at the thought. “I … was staring at the pulses in Seth’s throat, in Zetty’s, Riggs’. As if I wanted it. Wanted their blood.” With the pads of my fingers, I pushed against my closed eyes, then looked up at him. “So you’re telling me I could snap at any second like some animal? Attack Seth? That’s what I’d felt a second ago. As if I wanted to jump on him.” I shook my head. “No freaking way, Eli. I want it out of me.”

Eli gripped my shoulders and stared sternly at me. “Preacher has been working crazy hours to flush your system safely. The side effects are … extreme. Out of control.” He turned me around and stared down at me. With his thumb, he grazed my jaw. “Riley, you will always carry some of their DNA. And that makes you more than a little unpredictable. But I can handle you. We will work through this. Together. I won’t leave you alone for a second. Understand?”

I watched the play of firelight dance across his features, noticing how it threw parts of his face into dark shades and jagged planes. I would always have a little Arcos in me? That bothered the hell out of me. At least the d.t.’s would eventually go away. I didn’t like eyeballing my brother’s arteries. “The pain?” I asked, remembering the torturous feeling that had gripped me into a feral insanity. “Will it come back?”

Eli nodded. “Yes, it will. It’s not over yet,” he said, and I could plainly see how much he hated telling me, or rather, how much he hated that it would happen. “I hate it way more than you can imagine,” he said, reading my thoughts. “It kills me to see you in agony, and that I can’t do a goddamn thing about it pisses me off even more.” In the firelight, his eyes darkened dangerously, and I knew then that to be on Eli Dupré’s bad side could be a frightening thing. Luckily, he liked me.

I pushed aside my mounting fear and braved a big fake smile. “Don’t worry, Dupré. I can handle it,” I said, and slipped my arms around his waist. “Easy peasy. No prob. Just make sure I don’t hurt anyone.”

With a muttered French curse, Eli shook his head. “Always a badass, huh, Poe?” he said, then cocked his head at me and smiled. “I truly dig that about you.”

“I know you do,” I answered, and grazed his lips slowly with mine. Then, Eli kissed me—the kiss possessive, hard, erotic—and for so long I lost my breath. At some point, I lost consciousness—as in totally passed out. I’d like to say Eli’s intense, passionate kissing/making out rocked my world so hard that I fainted, but only later did I realize what had really happened, and for how long.

Nightmares plagued me; hunger plagued me worse. I crawled around on all fours, lunging and gnashing at anything that happened by. Heartbeats thumped all around me, and I could hear blood rushing through vessels. I wanted it. I needed it.

I fought to get it. I didn’t care whose it was.

The big one had to have a lot; I could smell it, almost taste it on my tongue. Like a cat, I waited; he grew close. I leapt, wrapped my legs around his waist, and used all my strength to hold him still. I wanted what pumped through his veins. Hands grasped me; voices yelled. I was pulled off. I thrashed; my body writhed; on all fours I scrambled away. My senses alerted me to another—a smaller one—but the resonating whoosh-whoosh of the substance I craved pumping through his body beckoned me. I crouched, then lunged, wrapping my whole body around him to prevent escape. Something coldcocked me in the head—in the fucking head! I flew back, my prize released, and I hit the ground hard. Air left my lungs. My head throbbed. I lay there, seeing nothing but darkness and stars. My chest rose and fell. My heart barely beat. Stillness washed over me. I was unsure whether I was sleeping or dead.

I wasn’t dead; I’d learned a lesson. Pretending to be asleep, I waited for another to come to me; the hunger inside me roared as I sensed his approach. Why wasn’t anyone giving it to me? I’d fucking get it myself. I waited. He drew closer. His breath brushed over me, leaning close. Quickly, I wrapped my legs around him, grabbed his head, and found his throat with my mouth. I held fast, with my teeth and body. Something was wrong, though. There was no rush of blood; no thump-thump as it beat through his body. Weakened, I allowed him to shake me off. I hit the ground, and he landed on top of me. He held me down; at first I thrashed. He allowed me to. Drained as I was, slumber claimed me and pulled me into darkness.