Predatory

by Alexandra Ivy

  He glanced at Dr. Lipton.

  “You’re transforming,” Dr. Lipton confirmed. “The fact that your body is reacting the way it is tells me that if we try to halt the transformation, you’ll end up with no viable immune system. Your best option at this point is to let us give you a rapid infusion of infected blood to speed and complete the transformation.”

  Richart willed her to choose the latter. The only alternative was death.

  John, who Richart hadn’t even realized had followed him back into the room, drew in a breath and held it.

  “I’ll transform.”

  John surged forward and hugged Jenna before Richart could embrace her again.

  Richart met Dr. Lipton’s gaze. “Call Roland.”

  Raising one eyebrow, she left the infirmary.

  Jenna stared up at Richart, who smiled as John’s hug went on and on and on.

  “I’m sorry,” John murmured.

  “Why?”

  “It’s my fault.”

  She frowned.

  Richart shook his head. “It’s the vampire’s fault.”

  “Right,” Jenna said, not sure what her son was thinking. “Besides, I’m going to be immortal. That’s not such a bad thing, right?”

  John actually laughed. Straightening, he backed away. “Right.”

  Jenna couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around it. She could potentially live forever. Forever young. Forever strong. Perhaps with Richart?

  How often had he told her that he loved her? Did forever with her sound good to him?

  His smile said it did.

  “Does this mean Mom is going to be hunting vampires?” John asked.

  Sheesh. She hadn’t even thought of that.

  Richart shifted uneasily. “Probably. The way things have been going lately . . . I would be very surprised if Seth didn’t want you to train and fight alongside the rest of us.”

  “You don’t look happy about that,” she said, unable to imagine it herself.

  “Times are more dangerous than ever. I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll speak with Seth and obtain permission to train you myself. Perhaps by the time you’re ready we will have eliminated this latest threat.”

  “My mom, the vampire hunter,” John said with a grin. “That. Is. Awesome!”

  Jenna laughed.

  “It pays very well, too,” Dr. Lipton said as she returned. “Roland is on his way.”

  “Good.”

  “You know you’re going to have a fight on your hands, right?”

  “You didn’t tell him why I wanted him to come?”

  “No. I just said you needed him. He thinks you’ve been injured.”

  Roland, nearly a millennium old, was a powerful healer. And notoriously antisocial when it came to everyone but his wife, Sarah. She alone could coax smiles and laughter from him.

  While they waited for Roland to arrive, Richart and Dr. Lipton explained what Jenna could expect from the rest of her transformation. Constant migraines. Intensifying nausea and vomiting. A dangerously high fever. And “the worst freaking toothache of your life,” as Dr. Lipton put it. Richart had forgotten that part. His own transformation had taken place so long ago, he had difficulty remembering the details.

  The door slammed open and Roland Warbrook strolled in, Sarah at his side. Both wore the standard hunting garb of immortals and were splattered with blood.

  “What happened?” Roland demanded, scowl in place, his usual dour appearance hampered by the fact that he held Sarah’s hand and tenderly stroked the back of it with his thumb.

  A foot shorter than Roland, Sarah had no difficulty keeping up with his brisk pace and eyed Richart with concern.

  Roland noted Richart’s pristine appearance, took in Jenna, John, and Dr. Lipton, looked again at Jenna, and narrowed his eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, he held it, then glared at Richart. “Oh, hell no. You did not summon me here to transform your girlfriend.”

  “First, how did you know she’s my girlfriend?” Richart demanded.

  “Almost every time I’ve seen you in recent weeks, you’ve carried her scent.”

  Oh. Right. “How did you know I want you to transform her?”

  “I can smell the virus on her.”

  “Wow,” Jenna said, “you guys really know how to make a girl feel self-conscious.”

  Sarah laughed. “It takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”

  Richart shook his head. “Why couldn’t I smell the virus on her?”

  Roland shrugged. “Her gift must dampen it. My senses are sharper than yours and I’m a healer, so what may have escaped your notice, wouldn’t escape mine. The point is moot anyway. I’m not going to change her.”

  “You already know my arguments. Younger immortals are always weaker than those who are older. Sarah is far stronger than she should be because you transformed her. I don’t know if it’s because you’re older or a healer, but if you transform Jenna—”

  “Not in my job description.”

  Sarah stepped forward and offered her hand to Jenna. “While they bicker, let me introduce myself. I’m Sarah Bingham.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I meant Sarah Warbrook. I think this is the first time I’ve introduced myself since we married.”

  Jenna grinned. “I remember how weird it was. That’s why I eventually went back to my maiden name. I just never got used to it.”

  “I guess it’s going to take me a while, too. The big, gorgeous brooding guy is my husband Roland.”

  “Nice to meet you both. I’m Jenna McBride.”

  Roland turned a speculative gaze on Jenna. “Did you say McBride?”

  “Yes.”

  “Originally from Virginia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you by any chance related to Brian Tiernan McBride?”

  “My paternal grandfather’s name was Brian McBride, but I don’t remember his middle name.”

  Roland studied her a long moment. “I’ll do it.”

  Richart gaped. “You will?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “She’s my descendent.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened as she turned to gaze up at him. “Sweetie! That’s wonderful!”

  Richart stared at him. “Jenna is related to you?”

  Jenna started to smile, then noticed the no-doubt horrified expression overtaking Richart’s face. “Is that not a good thing?” she asked hesitantly.

  All Richart could say was, “Chier.”

  “Exactly.” Roland donned an evil smile. “Make her happy or I’ll kick your arse.”

  He could do it, too.

  “So.” Roland turned to Jenna. “Are we going to do this now or what?”

  She swallowed hard. “Now as in right now?”

  Shaking off his dismay, Richart cupped Jenna’s face in his hands. “I know you’re probably nervous.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “But I’ll be right here with you the whole time. Once Roland has infused you with his blood, I’ll take you and John to David’s home. He’s one of our elders and a very powerful healer. More powerful even than Roland, so he can help you through the transformation. Two, three days from now, you’ll be healthier than you’ve ever been. You’ll be stronger. Faster. And you’ll be able to kick my ass if I ever piss you off.”

  “Cool,” John put in.

  Jenna smiled bravely. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  Richart lifted her onto the exam table and, cupping a hand behind her neck, gently eased her back.

  Roland approached the other side of the table and took her hand, raising her arm until the bend of her elbow hovered beneath his chin.

  Richart took Jenna’s free hand and held it to his chest.

  Her nervous gaze went to Roland. “I’m not going to want to jump your bones or anything when you bite me, am I?”

  Damned if the taciturn immortal didn’t laugh. “No. You may want to jump Richart’s though, so, John, beware.”

 
John shifted uneasily. “Is this going to get weird? Like kinky weird? Because—”

  “No,” Richart assured him. “At most, Jenna will say things she ordinarily wouldn’t say unless she were drunk. You might want to step outside, though, so she won’t feel embarrassed later.”

  “Okay.” He leaned over and kissed Jenna’s cheek. “Love you, Mom.”

  She smiled. “I love you, too. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be okay.”

  As soon as John left, Roland bent his head and sank his fangs into Jenna’s arm.

  Jenna panted as she slumped back against the pillows. “Immortal sex is the best sex ever,” she proclaimed breathlessly.

  Settling beside her, Richart grinned. “Like it, do you?”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding? I could do this all day.”

  “We have been doing it all day. The sun is setting.”

  She glanced at the clock with surprise. “It is?”

  A week had passed since her transformation, which had been pretty miserable. Fortunately, she remembered very little of it beyond Richart’s being there for her through it all.

  “We’d better get ready.” There was no disguising her reluctance. They had spent one week of pure ecstasy together. No work for her since she quit her job. No hunting for Richart, Seth having given him a few days off to help Jenna adapt to the changes. No stress or strife. Just hours spent in bed or out of bed, making love and talking and learning even more about each other than they had already known.

  She hated to see it end, but John had invited his study group over to the apartment tonight and Jenna intended to capture the vampire who had infected her.

  Her stomach gave a nervous flutter.

  She had never physically fought anyone before . . . aside from the night Richart had rescued her from the vampires, but she didn’t remember that.

  Richart seemed confident that, even with no combat training, she could easily subdue the vampire if he did as hoped and snuck into her bedroom to feed from her once more. She wouldn’t have even begun to believe such was possible if she hadn’t grown more bold than she had ever been in bed last night and overpowered Richart, holding him down and . . .

  “You’re blushing,” Richart drawled with amusement. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I’ve never been so . . . aggressive before,” she admitted.

  “Lucky me.” He stole a quick kiss.

  “You really don’t mind?”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding? Just thinking about it makes me hard again.”

  Smiling, she sat up and faced him. “But . . . you don’t mind that I’m stronger than you now?” He had been right. She didn’t know if it was because Roland was several hundred years older than Richart or because he was a healer, but his transforming her had left her stronger and faster than Richart.

  He sat up beside her and stroked her hair. “No, I want you to be safe. The stronger and faster you are, the better. Your being able to overpower me would only trouble me if you made me do something I didn’t want to do.” He leaned in close and rubbed noses with her. “And everything you did to me, everything you made me do last night, I thoroughly enjoyed.”

  She pressed her lips to his. “I love you.”

  “And I adore you. Now let’s go kick some vampire ass.”

  The biggest impediment they ran into that night ended up being John.

  “I appreciate your anger,” Richart told him for the dozenth time, “but you must behave as though you know nothing of the vampire’s nefarious deeds.”

  “I don’t understand why we couldn’t just invite the ones I suspect and kick their asses until one confessed.”

  Richart sighed. John had narrowed it down to two men he thought were the likeliest candidates, but really it could be any of them. “John, just do as we’ve asked,” he advised. “Behave as you normally would. No scowls or confrontations. And let your mother and me deal with this.”

  When John opened his mouth to object . . . again . . . Richart held up a hand. “I know your every instinct tells you to protect your mother, but she can pick you up and toss you through that wall over there with very little effort now.”

  John eyed his mother skeptically.

  Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Want a demonstration?”

  He cracked a smile. “No, ma’am.”

  She winked.

  “I guess it’s a good thing you couldn’t do that back when I was in high school and broke curfew.”

  “I would have been seriously tempted.”

  At last, John laughed and relaxed a bit. “Okay. I get it. I’ll stay out of it and let things play out the way you want them to.”

  Richart clapped him on the back. “Excellent.” He motioned to the hallway. “Shall we, my love?”

  The study group arrived. Jenna did her mother thing, asking if they liked their new classes, offering snacks and drinks, then said she was heading for bed.

  Good nights trailed down the hallway after her as she entered her bedroom and swung the door until it was almost, but not quite, closed, leaving a little strip of light to illuminate her path to the bed.

  Across the room, a shadow among shadows, Richart winked at her as she drew back the covers, climbed in fully clothed, then tugged them up to her neck. Quiet enfolded them, broken only by the mumbling of chemistry mumbo jumbo in the living room.

  Richart’s heartbeat slowed until even Jenna had difficulty detecting it. But his scent lingered.

  Won’t he smell you? she had asked, thinking it a dead giveaway, but Richart had shaken his head.

  John has mentioned you’re seeing someone. He’ll just assume we slept together earlier and my scent lingers on you.

  Why that had made her flush, she didn’t know.

  Minutes passed. An hour. Finally someone mentioned using the bathroom and strode up the hallway. A click sounded as light brightened the hallway. The bathroom door closed, darkening it once more.

  Footsteps, light enough to escape mortal detection, approached. The bedroom door swung open and closed so swiftly she almost missed it. A tall form approached the bed.

  Jenna concentrated on keeping her heartbeat steady, her breath even. Not an easy task. She was nervous as hell.

  The vampire leaned down over the bed. His eyes acquired an emerald glow as he drew closer to her. Through her lashes, she saw his lips part, watched his fangs descend. He reached for the covers and drew them down to bare her throat.

  Jenna struck. Grabbing the vampire by the throat, she cut off the yelp of surprise he tried to emit, tossed him onto his back on the floor, and held him down.

  Eyes wide, he struggled to peel her fingers away and bucked to try to dislodge her as she shoved her knee in his belly and held him down.

  Holy crap. It really was easy. The strength and power she wielded was as exhilarating as a drug, eradicating her fear.

  Richart stepped up beside her.

  The vamp struggled even harder.

  Smiling darkly, Richart touched Jenna’s shoulder and took them to a clearing not far from his home.

  Jenna released her captive and rose.

  The vampire scuttled backward like a crab until several yards separated them. Rising, he rubbed his neck and looked around with wild eyes.

  “You’ve just experienced how powerful she is,” Richart warned. “She’ll catch you if you run.”

  The vampire blurred as he lunged toward the trees.

  Jenna beat him there.

  Skidding to a halt, he darted in another direction.

  Jenna blocked his way.

  “What do you want?” he blurted, expression hostile.

  He couldn’t be more than twenty years old, stood about five foot nine or so, and had a lean build.

  “The lady has a question for you,” Richart answered. “I, personally, want to draw and quarter you.” He met Jenna’s gaze. “He’s the one who got away the night you were attacked.”

  “Bullshit! I didn’t do anything!”

  Richart’s fa
ce darkened. His eyes shone like spotlights as his lips peeled back in a snarl of rage, displaying his fangs. “You infected her!” he roared.

  Jenna’s eyes widened. Richart was pissed!

  “You knew her from John’s study group and led your vampire friends to her, knowing they would kill her. When that didn’t pan out, you fed from her while she slept! You preyed upon her when she was most vulnerable after she welcomed you into her home!”

  The vampire backed away. “Fuck you!”

  Jenna stepped forward. “Is that all you did?”

  “What?”

  “Is that all you did to me when you crept into my room and fed from me?”

  Richart took a step toward him. “Answer the question. Did you touch her while you fed from her? After you fed from her?”

  Jenna had been tormented by the knowledge that he might have.

  “Fuck no!” the vamp nearly shouted. “She’s old enough to be my mother!”

  Well, damn. He made it sound like he was afraid she’d give him the clap or something.

  Richart took another menacing step forward.

  The vampire skittered to the side, farther away from him. “Wait. You’re the Immortal Guardian who rescued her!” He drew a knife and settled into a crouch.

  Jenna drew the pair of daggers Richart had given her earlier.

  Richart drew his own. “Express a little remorse and I’ll consider letting you live.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Some of your brethren have already joined us. You can, too, if you regret harming her.”

  “Eat shit!” Darting to the side, the vampire swept past Richart and attacked Jenna.

  Heart stopping, Jenna raised her daggers and fended off his every blow. The vampire seemed as untrained in battle as she was, swinging wildly with the desperate fury of a child taunted too many times by a bully, but hatred soon stole into his twisted features as a mad glint entered his eyes.

  She deflected his blade with her own. His fist she blocked and countered with her own, fingers still curled around the hilts of her weapons, until . . .

  A miscalculation.

  One of her blades slid across his throat.

  Warm blood slapped her in the face as the vampire stumbled backward, his gray shirt turning crimson.