Captiva Craving

by Talyn Scott

“You cannot outsmart me,” his voice sharpened.

  “If you ever want me unreachable to Gianni,” she murmured in that sleep-sexy voice again, bending to fix her shoe that didn’t need fixing while displaying a long length of cleavage, “I’m all for it.” She chewed her plush bottom lip. Open the door, take me out of here, and I might have a chance.

  “Not falling for it, Donor,” he said irritably, moving for the door.

  Yes, open the door. “It? Or me?” She flicked another longing glance at him. Was Salk the help that Anthony had needed to take her away from Gianni? He was definitely hiding something. “I’m thinking you slipped in here for more than a chat.” He’d stated no purpose, just kept nervous small talk after he had arrived.

  He shrugged negligibly and said, “Checking on my sire’s prize since he was in a meeting.”

  “Oh, that’s all? Where was I going? That’s the only door.” She stepped to the right, ripping back a golden drape with a dramatic flair, exposing the wall where a window should be. “There aren’t any windows to jump through.” Blythe fought to control her breathing, reaching for serenity and working her plan as she went along. She lowered her cognac eyes, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “We all want what we want, right? Gianni said it’s the nature of the vampire to take, so what’s stopping you?”

  “Intelligence is stopping me,” he answered roughly, reaching for the door lever, “if you only knew.”

  Something told Blythe he was hiding much more than she originally thought. When he turned the handle, she hadn’t come up with anything better than admitting, “You helped my brother take me away from Italy, from your sire.” Blythe kept her poker face.

  Instead of responding, he released the handle, turning almost too slowly. “Where would you come up with such a ridiculous notion?”

  She didn’t know if he could sense lies the same way as Gianni so she was forthcoming with her honesty. “The power of deduction, even the pretty ones have a few brain cells floating around in the air between our ears.” She stepped in front of him, the tips of her toes brushing his boots. “Profound intellect may have escaped my grasp, but I’m fairly good with intuition and crossword puzzles.”

  “By your tongue, you have no self-preservation.”

  “It’s something I’m working on.”

  “Your time spent with the shifters has made you delusional.”

  “About that,” she said, matching his tone, “it sure didn’t take you that long to find me.”

  “You were unconscious,” his said warily though he tried to hide his uneasiness, “what do you know of any time that passed from point A to point B.”

  “Just snippets of memories from here and there,” she said. “But I’m guessing a vampire in Gianni’s position, his authority, wouldn’t be caught cavorting with his shapeshifter enemy. In fact, I doubt he cavorts much at all outside court. So, considering my inferior intelligence and all, I’m left wondering if he overestimated your hunting skills.”

  “Meaning?” He raised a brow, his breaths choppy, daring her to continue.

  She was on to something here. “Meaning point A to point B couldn’t have been but a short jot for you, if you had help Gianni knew nothing about.”

  “The royals have better things to do than worrying over how we execute a hunt.”

  “Yeah, well, so long as he knows you’re depending on his natural born enemies to meet your endgame, right?” What exactly was Salk’s endgame?

  “Nope, no self-preservation whatsoever,” he hissed, “you stupid, stupid girl!” Tension rolled off his body. “For years I kept you protected.”

  Things went weird. “I didn’t even know you for years!”

  “I’ve known you,” he dropped his voice. “You think I was in a feeding frenzy a moment ago. Vampires transfix for various reasons you wouldn’t understand. You wonder how I can turn away the beauty you so eagerly offer in exchange for freedom. I would never partake of you in that way and I tried to give you freedom more than six months ago.”

  “So it was you, who helped Anthony.”

  He nodded, his faraway look chilling. “We’re different than humans, far different. The years we’ve spent assimilating into human society are astounding, but were far closer to jungle beasts than those weaklings.” His hands gripped her shoulders. “In the wild, animals kill their weakest young. That way,” he said with a shrug, “they don’t suffer by other creatures or slowly starve. Now, no matter how hard I’ve tried to protect you, I’d rather kill you than watch you suffer at the hands of my sire or that Habaline freak you call your husband. And if I kill those two to spare you, more will take their place, just as they did your mother. I can’t risk that with you, not after the promise I made to Chloe’s lifeless body. She never had a day’s peace.” He stared at her dead-on, with purpose. “But I can give you yours, atone for my sins.”

  Out of a warped sense of decency, he was going to kill her. And without a doubt, she knew who he was. “My m-mother was Chloe a-and you’re my real…f-father.” A lunatic.

  “So much for winning the genetic lottery, right?” His hands tightened on her impossibly, bruising her flesh. “Your looks aren’t as valuable as your potent blood, my daughter. You are really a prize. And I never wanted this for you.”

  “Then why?” Her eyes burned, tears wetting her face. “At least, I deserve the truth, especially if you want me to have peace…in death.” She had to get that door open. There wasn’t any doubt that he’d killed her mother, not in Blythe’s mind.

  “The Dynasty, the Species, they haven’t a clue how Donors inherit their traits. How those with human blood fulfill the all-important role of keeping the monarchy well fed and alive. The Lovci have kept their dangerous secrets since the Species evolved. The fact that they sire the Donors is well hidden.” She’d never seen a vampire cry, but he was. “I never wanted to put a child through that type of enslavement. Sure, as generations became younger, most royals treated their Donors well. But I would never risk it, not with my flesh and blood. Never.”

  “Then, how?”

  “I think we only really fall in love once, and I made that mistake with Chloe.” His gaze zeroed in on her throbbing pulse, even Blythe could feel the blood rushing beneath her throat. “She left me when I went hunting in South America, hid her pregnancy.” His frustration was evident, as if it were all Chloe’s fault. “It took me years to find her, and I’m a born hunter.”

  Although Blythe was new to the vampire world, she doubted a male vampire would ever allow a mated female to leave. Their possession was too great, their power explosive when another neared their female. Gianni sure wouldn’t knowingly let his mate leave. “You couldn’t have k-kept me?”

  “You were nearing what humans call preteens.”

  “And?”

  “Other Lovci would have easily scented you in my dwelling, in our village, and presented you to the monarchy. They would never risk punishment by not doing so. Lovci serve the Dynasty before all others.”

  “That’s sick.”

  “Presenting you?” He blinked a few times, thinking. “Not in a sexual way, but to place you under protection.” He shook his head. “Neither would they have taken you as a child in order to feed. Even we have laws protecting younglings. But I knew when I finally found you - your mother’s eyes looking back at me, her stunning beauty magnified -what your adult life would be like. And I couldn’t have that.”

  “So you…?” She prompted the horrifying monster, her father, a vampire who could kill the mother of his child. “You killed her because?”

  “I told you,” he snapped. “She left me.”

  On that, he said with such clarity she almost believed him sane. “There’s more to it than that.”

  “She had mated with Beasts.”

  “Werewolves?” Bane had insisted she was a Ruyter, had brothers wanting to meet her.

  Determined to swallow more information, she asked, “And how did I end up in the human world?”

 
; “With easy coercion, humans adopted you and I didn’t look back. Knowing the farther I stayed away, the safer you would become, nestled in a warm family away from the evils of my world.” His face contorted with what she could only name as fear, and she’d never witnessed it on an immortal. “I would always know if a hunt took place in your area, and if it did, I diverted the hunters. Never would I have anticipated the attention you garnered from those mercurial aliens.”

  “Sixten?”

  “Sixten, yes.” He pursed his lips, his fangs still down. “But Prince Rave, a growing infection his brother finally had the balls to lance, was my last straw.”

  She gasped, thinking about everything that had come between them. Rave made her think Sixten had cheated on her, but it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, since her father brought her to Italy anyway. “You sent for me and Anthony brought me. You coerced him, too?” He clenched his eyes, reopened them. “No need, money spoke volumes with Anthony. Your Sixten knew that better than anyone, over the years, he’d given Anthony millions to take care of you. Threats and vampiric compulsion were hardly necessary, if at all. Greed led Anthony to the highest bidder. Over the years, he grew into a most trusted and valued employ.”

  “Of the hunters?”

  “I’ve answered what questions I can.” His jaw cracked, his razor-sharp fangs further lengthening. “That is the best peace I can give you, my beautiful daughter, and Gianni will never touch you after this.” His mouth flew wide to take a big chunk out of her throat – a strike meant to kill.

  “Help me!” But he was already on her, biting into the forearm she used to cover her throat. He tore viciously, before lifting up and protracting his claws.

  “Why did he need you back so desperately?” He bellowed frantically. “Why did he have to love you?”

  “Gianni!” She screamed again as he slapped her arm away, painfully digging a claw in to her hand. The other moved in blurring speed, unlocking her manacle in order to mist her. Bingo!

  “You could have lived!”

  “Help!”

  Pressure was closing in, if Salk misted her before someone opened the door, she was toast.

  Fight. Fight. Fight.

  Blythe’s heart kicked up, but not in fear. Flames burned her veins, stoking her hidden power. Cerulean eyes staring out from her Were soul squinted, locking onto Salk with primordial intent.

  Yes!

  An inherent ability kicked in, calling from the blood of Scottish Beasts. She lunged to the side, knocking over a low table. A crystal vase shattered over his head. Did she do that? Salk easily brushed it off and grabbing her side, pulling her back. Blythe kicked out, clotheslining him with her shin. An answering blinding pain shot up her leg. “Fuck!” But she pushed back the pain, choosing to embrace it, feed from it. She went at him with her opposite foot, trying to stab out his eye with her pointed heel. With his forearm, he easily blocked her blow.

  “You may be strong,” she growled in a voice unknown to her ears, “but I’m stronger.”

  The door burst open right when his fist connected with her skull. If it had made full impact, she would have been dead on the spot. But as it happened, a familiar set of hands pulled Salk away from her. When she stared up, Gianni had him by the throat, crushing his windpipe. Finally! Just what she’d been waiting for.

  “He helped my brother!” she screamed, skirting behind Gianni, thinking quickly. “And he came in here,” she said through easy tears, “biting me!” Gianni would never sense her deception, since she only omitted.

  “What is this, my Lovec?” Gianni’s words were ragged, a blade dipped in acid. “You spilled my intended’s blood?”

  “She lies,” Salk coughed around his words, still in his sire’s hold. “She’s concocted this…whole story…about shifters…and Anthony. She’s broken.”

  “I scent no deception here.”

  “So…she believes her own lies.”

  Words were unnecessary. Gianni spotted her dripping arm, torn by her father’s lethal fangs.

  “Why, Salk?” Sparks flared with Gianni’s anger, incandescent power spinning around his royal body. With that, she stepped back in horrified awe.

  Electrical currents filled every available space, popping all bulbs and outlets in her windowless apartment. She glanced behind her, looking through the bathroom door. Over the vanity, Hollywood bulbs crackled and burst, one after the other, shattering on the sink in a shimmering glass rain. She glanced at the lever on the only door leading out, hoping the electronic lock would pop, but it held firm.

  She needed Gianni distracted a bit more, and Salk being her father was too stunning, she needed to fuel his mounting rage instead. “I think he personally knows the shifters who took me, Gianni. Please, don’t let him near me again.” She sobbed, tears blurring her vision. “I’m begging you.”

  Gianni whirled, his eyes without any whites, lifting his life-long hunter by the throat one-handed. “Tell me why she says these things!”

  “Broken…human,” he gagged, his fangs still dripping with her blood.

  Heat left Gianni’s body, his rage insufferable. “You know the laws protecting my kind, my property, and my mate.” His flawless face contorted disturbingly, his golden eyes fixed on his hunter. “Lovci never partake of Donors.” His hiss so lethal, Blythe covered her burning ears while nearing the door.

  Booted feet echoed the hall, and she realized Gianni must have called guards using mental directives. She flattened against the wall as he continued interrogating Salk about Anthony and the shifters, though the hunter refused to give up anything. And when that door opened…

  She slipped around, looking left and right before going on a full-out run though the long corridor ending with an ascending flight of stairs. Please let me make it. She had no idea what was out there, but determination and that roaring blood spurred her on.

  Go. Go. Go.

  She willed her legs to move faster, ignoring that sharp pain in her shin where she clocked Salk. Blood pumped from her fist, flowing from the wounds on her forearm. I’m leaving a trail. She held up her arm, pressing it against her stomach as she hit the stairs.

  Up. Up. Up.

  She climbed, hoping for a break to kick off her crazy-high heels.

  Reaching the top landing, she met another door, praying the guards left it unlocked. She cupped the lever, twisting it in her palm and pop. She was out! As the night air hit her face, the scent of pungent citrus greeted her. Rows and rows of trees lined every path in all directions. She inhaled; moving in what she assumed was a northerly direction, catching the back winds of the ocean.

  I’m still in Florida.

  That’s how sure Gianni was of himself, keeping her so near Sixten hadn’t worried him in the least. He wasn’t afraid of his power, a challenge from an alien halfling, and that thought scared the hell out of Blythe even more.

  She took a second per foot, tearing off her shoes and digging her bare feet into the dirt. Still keeping her arm firmly planted against her stomach to staunch the bleeding, she set out to put as much distance between her and monsters as humanly possible. All hopes led to her reaching a highway and hitching a ride with anyone other than an immortal serial killer.

  Dirt sprayed up, hitting the backs of her thighs as she picked up her speed. A pained, horror-filled cry shook the orchard, shaking the trees. It didn’t take three guesses to figure out Gianni was fast on her trail.

  The trembling met her body, his anguish reverberating through her spine. She could feel his overwhelming agony in her very marrow. Why did you bond with me? It was more than a bond, she realized, so much more for him. A fraction of her wanted to go back, allow him to hold her until his inner turmoil subsided. The rational part of her wanted to show the merciless no mercy, attacking him the way she attacked Salk. Yet, it was pertinent to her very survival to escape the big, bad Dynasty Vampyr, especially while he was this enraged.

  The grove shook a second time, or was that the third? Gianni’s anger
churned so loudly, she felt the ground sputter beneath her feet, but she never slowed.

  A whirling sound whizzed above her head, not from a gunshot, but she couldn’t figure out its source. Another lion’s roar followed. Blythe wondered, not for the first time, if anyone could restrain him, restrict him, or calm him.

  “Blythe!”

  Shit.

  He was too close!

  She spotted a small work shed, maybe a pump house, and skirted left. After bringing her arm from her stomach, she slammed it against the surface, smearing her blood on the unpainted wood. Immediately, it acted as a sponge, soaking it in. And although she wasn’t well versed in vampires, she knew her scent would be all over the building.

  “Come to me, I scent your fear! Salk will never touch you again.” He said with steely determination, his voice even closer. “You are left unprotected with shapeshifters lurking, circling you!”

  What was the difference between him and the shapeshifters? And why wasn’t he on her already? If it were Sixten, he would have caught her in a flash.

  Just then, an oppressive breeze rushed through, spreading her dark hair. And when another wave of citrus hit her palate, she realized why she was hidden here, inside an orange grove. To hide her scent, and, evidently, Gianni couldn’t pick up on it unless he was right on her.

  So she decided not to give him that advantage.

  There were no natural hills here, though she reached a manmade slope lined with a crude drainage system and littered with rows of aboveground pipes, all awaiting installation. Down below, on a far side, she spotted flat roofs dotting small out buildings nestled among another planting of orange trees.

  Blythe moved lower, running out in the open a ways before hitting a narrow path behind the first out building. She could see the full extent of the grove, its location far removed from any highway. Only a single dirt road split the wide expanse, forking in front of the last building, the one with an accordion styled roof sporting a carport. Unless she was seeing things, centered in the carport under a single, crudely hanging bulb was a pickup.

  Run. She willed herself, gaining momentum and reaching the next small building. Two down, six to go. A deafening crack came from behind, the sound of a train leaving its tracks. Weather beaten wood twirled in the air, whirling from an unnatural tornado. He’d found her diversion, buying her some time, but at what cost?