Not Dead Yet

by Alice Bello

  Not Dead Yet

  ~*~

  Alice Bello

  Copyright 2012, 2013, 2019

  Previously published as Blood Rites

  Kindle Edition

  Cover by Les at Germancreative

  Edited by Stephanie T. Lott (aka Bibliophile)

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Her eyes opened to nothing but blue. For maybe the hundredth time that day Lucy Hart dangled, held suspended in midair—upside down—straining ineffectually against her future brother-in-law’s monstrous grip. His hulking arms had hers pinned at her sides, her legs flopping uselessly over his shoulder, and her face hovering about a foot over the bright blue grappling mat.

  She was damn sick of ending up in this position.

  Micah wasn’t so tired of it. If anything he was trying to throw her into that position faster and faster with every resulting practice match.

  “Whose idea... ” she gasped, “was it again... that I needed... combat training?” Her ears popped as she grunted out the words.

  Micah barked out a laugh. “That would be you.”

  Oh, yeah. “But why are you training me?”

  Micah flopped her down on her back on the thick blue mat, simultaneously letting her finally take in a deep breath just to get it knocked out of her again. Micah stood over her, an infuriating grin on his Viking handsome face, his fists on his hips as he smirked down at her.

  “That, again, would be you.”

  After about a minute of breathlessness she huffed, “What?”

  He shook his head. “You told Gabriel you wanted to be trained by the best.”

  She cringed. Lucy had just assumed Gabriel would’ve gotten the hint that she wanted him to train her. At least then she’d get to see him, maybe even get to do some non-pain-inducing rolling around with him on the big blue mat. But because of the daily training with Mr. Pain, and meetings with her mother and her future mother-in-law to plan the pending nuptials, she hadn’t had any private time with her fiancé. And with all the tossing and turning she’d been doing at night, and the naughty dreams she’d been having about Gabriel, Lucy really wanted to have that private time with him.

  She peered up at Micah again. He wasn’t even breathing hard, and hadn’t a drop of sweat on him! Where Lucy was soaked in sweat, breathing like she’d run a marathon, and had bruises blooming over every square inch of her body.

  Lucy held her hand out to Micah so he could hoist her to her feet. “So you’re really the best?”

  The look on his face changed. He looked down right insulted.

  “Jeez... ” Lucy said, “I didn’t mean to hurt your little girl feelings. Just help me up.” She shook her hand at him, knowing that she’d put the “little girl” thing in there just to piss him off. He deserved it. He enjoyed throwing her around way too much.

  “Why do we fall down?” he said in a terrible English accent.

  “Don’t do Batman today. I banned that three days ago.”

  He smiled devilishly. “But it’s relevant and classic.”

  “But you abused it on Monday. So shut up, Alfred, and help me up!”

  Micah shook his head, and Lucy rolled her eyes at him. He leaned over and grabbed her hand, pulling her up off the mat with his inhuman strength—yet stopping about halfway. She looked up and found him staring at the other side of the immense Enoch Industries gymnasium. She let her head fall back and peered back to see what had suddenly stolen away Micah’s attention. All Lucy saw was a young, well-muscled man with short spiky black hair and very, very tan skin. Too tan to be a tan. Probably his skin color had more to do with his genes than sun bathing.

  Lucy looked back up into Micah’s face and saw hunger... and need.

  “Oh!” Lucy lost her grip on Micah’s hand and fell back onto the mat with a thud... and a long suffering groan.

  Micah looked down; a surprised and embarrassed look on his face. He swooped down and scooped her up off the mat, pulling her to her feet like she weighed less than nothing, setting her gently on her feet again. “Sorry about that. I kind of spaced out there.”

  Lucy tried to say something, yet all she managed was another guttural groan. She ached everywhere, and now her backside really hurt too. After another grunt, and a breathy moan, Lucy pulled herself to standing almost straight again. She hadn’t noticed she was bent over while she whined and groaned.

  “No problem.” She grimaced. “It was my fault. I was just surprised when I caught you... well... ”

  Micah tilted his head and furrowed his brows, staring into her eyes.

  Lucy leaned in and whispered to him so the apple of his eye couldn’t hear what she was about to say. That was one thing she really hated. Werewolves had wicked good hearing. “I saw you checking out tall, dark, and handsome over there.”

  Micah gave her a long, piteous look, as if he thought she was mentally challenged. Then he shrugged. “So? I’ve been trying to get Paul in the sack ever since your engagement party.”

  “Oh!” There I go again. Remove foot from mouth and try not to look too idiotic.

  Micah laughed, a low, rich laugh that made you feel like laughing too. “I get it,” he said. “My brother didn’t tell you I’m gay.”

  “Well... ”

  He laughed again, “And here I thought he had his sense of humor surgically removed. Good for him!”

  “So you’re not mad?”

  “Relieved, more like it. But I’m still going to want some vengeance. So after training let’s go up to his office. There’s a photograph I wanna show you.”

  It was Lucy’s turn to smile. “I’ve already seen and heard the story of the tattoo.”

  Micah’s jaw dropped open and he shook his head. “No shit. Mr. Anal Retentive told you about that?”

  “Yep, sorry. But kudos for getting him drunk and inked in the same night.” She looked down at the blue mat, feeling a growl shudder through her mind. “I can’t even get him alone.”

  Micah sighed, throwing his meaty arm over Lucy’s shoulder, eliciting another painful moan out of her. He pulled his arm away. “Sorry, Luce. Maybe we should just quit for today.”

  “No.” Lucy shook her weary head. “I need to learn... but... why can’t you just show me how to use a weapon—a sword, or a crossbow—something I can stab and chop with. That would protect me better than learning how to fall on my ass.”

  Micah shook his head slowly, his eyes saying, Not a chance. “No weapons until you learn the basics.”

  Lucy felt heat flush up from her stomach, up her spine, and through her head. He was pissing her off. “So the basics are you mauling me and dropping me on the ground over and over again? Are you sure you’re the best?”

  Micah’s eyes flicked over to Mr. Hot-stuff, and then he winked at her. “I’ll ignore that last part. I’ve got an idea. Hey Paul!” He turned and raised his arm, waving hot stuff Paul over to them.

  Paul had been lying on the mat doing some super fast crunches, yet instantly flipped up from the ground and onto his feet again. Before Lucy could say a word he was standing next to them, looking happy and excited. But Lucy wasn’t so enthused. She had no desire to let someone else throw her around too.

  “Would you help me demonstrate a couple of moves for Lucy he
re?” He wriggled his eyebrows and his smile turned lewd.

  Lucy closed her eyes and shook her head. Get a room...

  “Always up for some sparring,” Paul said.

  Lucy looked up and saw that Paul’s smile was nearly rivaling the ick-factor of Micah’s. “What do you have in mind?”

  Okay, that was a loaded question, yet to their credit neither did little more than smile and make eye contact—deep, penetrating eye contact.

  “I want you to grab me around the arms from the back. I want to show Lucy here how to get out of that kind of hold.”

  “Sure thing.” Paul moved slowly, carefully around Micah, as if he expected Micah to turn and pounce on him any second. Which, truthfully, Lucy expected Micah to do too. He moved in and wrapped his tanned, well-muscled arms around Micah, just barely being able to reach all the way around to complete the hold.

  “So Paul’s got a really good hold on me. And let’s say that I had the proportional strength of, let’s say, you.”

  Lucy sneered at him, the annoyed heat from her head radiating deliciously through her body. That heat had a way of making the pain and uncertainty melt away.

  “So I’m going to bump back with my hips,”—he pushed his backside back into Paul, which neither of them seemed to mind—“that will throw off his balance, then I’m gonna snap my head back, that will hurt and disorient him... and if I break his nose there’ll be fluids and airway constriction to help me with my escape.” He pushed his head back slowly, barely making contact with Paul’s pretty face.

  “Then I’ll push out with my arms, which should break his hold.” And so he pulled his arms free of Paul’s hold. “See?”

  Lucy shook her head. She saw. They really needed to get a room.

  Micah looked back at Paul, wanton smile still in place. “So let’s show her a little faster, and I’ll throw in a back spin kick at the end.”

  Lucy watched them set up again—glad that it was Paul getting all the punishment this time, though she was sure from the happy, puppy-dog look in his eyes, that he was enjoying the hell out of being up-close and personal with Micah.

  “One... two... three... ” Micah pushed back his hips, snapped his head, and then pulled free of Paul’s embrace. He took a split second to wink at Lucy again, and then spun around on one foot and kicked Paul in the chest, just hard enough to knock him back a couple of feet, but not knock him to the ground.

  The two just grinned as Paul rubbed his chest where Micah had kicked him. “Nice kick,” Paul said breathily.

  “Nice chest,” Micah said, and then sighed.

  Lucy walked up between the two, giving Paul a polite smile, then giving Micah a scathing glance. “Okay, back to training me.”

  But the two didn’t even look at her. They just kept that deep, penetrating gaze going. “Sure thing, Luce. Thanks Paul.”

  “Yeah, Paul. Thanks.”

  “Anytime,” Paul said as he turned and jogged off to the free weights.

  Micah’s breath came in a hiss as he watched Paul glide effortlessly across the gymnasium. Lucy had to admit, the boy had some nice muscle development, and best of all, he bounced and jiggled in all the right places.

  Lucy let her head drop as she shook her head. Then she elbowed Micah in the ribs. “So are you going to let me try that last, or are you going to just watch Mr. Hot-stuff jiggle?”

  “Can’t I do both?”

  “Not so far,” she said, her voice turning wry with irritation.

  “Okay, okay, back to training the former cheerleader on how to beat up the football team instead of—”

  Lucy whipped her head around and shot him straight through with the coldest of stares. “You don’t want to finish that sentence.”

  Micah put up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay... no disparaging cheerleader jokes. Just you trying to hurt me. You ready for that?”

  Lucy felt an unpleasant smile slide across her lips. Hurting him sounded good.

  Micah frowned and stepped back a couple paces. “Jeez Luce, you’re starting to get a scary look in those pretty eyes of yours.”

  She shrugged. “Scared?”

  Micah chuckled. “You can’t even push me back an inch. I think you scaring me is a long way off.”

  Lucy just stared at him, and she felt the heat lick up through her.

  Micah shook her off. Then he moved in behind her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a vise just this side of crushing the breath from her. “One... two... three... ”

  Lucy pushed her hips back, yet felt no give at all. Then she snapped her head back and felt Micah’s jaw crack against the back of her skull.

  He didn’t even wince.

  After the room stopped spinning she tried pulling free of his grasp. But nothing happed. She tried and tried to get free, but it was like he was carved out of stone; immovable.

  “You know you’re not going to hurt me if you go all out.” Micah muttered. “I promise.”

  I was going all out! Lucy really had tried to bloody his nose at least . But obviously from the searing pain radiating through her noggin, his chin had hurt her head far more.

  “We should just stop for the night,” Micah sounded worried and weary. Maybe pummeling her into the mat hadn’t been as much fun as he’d let on.

  “No... one more time.” Because I really want to wipe that grin off your face!

  “Okay, once more.” He took a deep breath and nearly crushed Lucy against his massive chest. “But if you knock yourself out, I’m not responsible.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “One... two—”

  “Three!” Lucy growled as she jumped ahead of the three-count, butting her hips back against him as hard as she could, and smacking her head back with everything she had.

  “Owww!” Her head suddenly felt like it was about to split open, and her vision turned all green and cloudy. Yet through that cloudiness she felt something pull at her, something familiar and powerful, and full of want and need.

  Her vision cleared immediately and her gaze shot straight to the other side of the gymnasium. Walking side by side was her beloved Gabriel, and the vampire Vin Tokar, brother to Delia, Gabriel’s vampire ex-girlfriend who’d tried to kill, and then turn Lucy into a vampire.

  Vin had helped save her, and in a way he had saved her life. She’d lost a lot of blood, and Vin had fed her some of his own to keep her from dying. And it had worked. Lucy felt fit as a fiddle before the night was out, but by doing so he’d forged a blood tie between the two of them. He could speak to her telepathically, which royally creeped Lucy out. But just being around him seemed to make her feel better—a little too good. The kind of good that should only be reserved for her actual fiancé.

  Because of this Lucy had gone out of her way to stay away from the blond haired vampire. She didn’t even want to speculate whether she could send him mental messages. Though his looks were very close to his psychopathic sister’s, those clear blue eyes, and that short blond hair made her feel more lustful than afraid... which left her filled with an even worse fear.

  Did the vampire have some sort of control over her?

  What did they call it, thrall? Being able to push a human’s mind, to bespell, to glamour? She’d read about it in novels, but was there really any truth to that? Probably, since there were really vampires and werewolves, and you could really bring the dead back to life—which was yucky!—and the vampire had really, truly communicated with only his mind.

  But right that moment all Lucy felt was that now familiar surge of happiness, not because her Gabriel was there, and she’d so been missing him, but because the vampire was near. Not only did her vision clear, but so did her mind. A strength that burned hot and cold all at once rushed through her body like a flash flood.

  What happened next took only an instant. She snapped back her head with a thudding crack, eliciting a grunt of pain from Micah. She threw out her arms, wrenching herself free of Micah’s burly embrace, and with a move so graceful an
d quick, a move Lucy had never even imagined could be done, she jumped straight up in the air, whirling around and kicked Micah full in the chest.

  And just like that the two hundred and fifty pound werewolf flew through the air twenty feet and smacked with a crunch against the blessedly padded gymnasium wall. He seemed to stick to the wall for a split second before his body crumpled to the floor.

  Lucy stood there, listening to her heart beat, slow and strong, as she stared coolly at Micah’s limp body.

  She heard Paul say, “Holy shit!” from across the room, and heard Gabriel gasp in surprise.

  But it was Vin’s internal voice that snapped her out of the cool, quiet place in her head. The vampire thought, she moves like vampire... she is exquisite. And worst of all, she could feel his hunger for her.

  It burned.

  That snapped her back to the here and now, out of the cold, calm place and back to the fact that she’d just kicked her fiancé’s brother across a room and knocked him out. How the hell did that happen?

  She ran over to his side. Gabriel and Paul were both already there, gently shaking Micah’s big, muscular shoulder. She didn’t hear what they were saying, her heart was now thudding like a caged thing in her chest, in her ears, but she did see Micah hold up his hand as he shook his head.

  She fell to the tiled floor and looked down into Micah’s golden brown eyes. They were unfocused and more than a little bloodshot, but when he looked up at her and smiled his crooked, golden-boy smile, she let out a relieved breath.

  He was okay. Only Micah could get knocked out one minute and be smiling the next.

  “Cut that out! You scared me!” She had no idea how she’d done what she’d just done, but she found it unbelievable that she had actually knocked Micah out... not to mention across a freaking room. He was over six foot three, he weighed over twice as much as she did, and he was a freaking werewolf.

  “Hey, I’m not the one holding out on us.” He shook his head and sat up, the smile still in place, but there was uneasiness in his eyes.

  Is he actually afraid of me? Nah, couldn’t be.

  “I didn’t do that.” She really couldn’t fathom how she could have.