Blood Obsession (A Vampire Paranormal Romance) (Deathless Night Series Book 3)

by L. E. Wilson

  Dante nearly smiled. Did he truly think his childish taunts were going to get a rise out of someone such as him? Besides, right now he was too busy trying to gauge where they were to react to the human's jabs. He needed to exit this aircraft while they were still flying over land. His chances of surviving were much better on land than in water.

  "I'm talkin' to you, asshole."

  Chicken Shit glanced up briefly as the rear-loading ramp opened, then did a double take when he noticed Dante's complete attention was still on him. His eyes grew as large as saucers in his thin face and he began to visibly sweat, large drops running down his temples to drip off of his chin.

  Dante smiled at his increasing fear, exposing his fangs, and hissed at him.

  Unbuckling his restraints, Chicken Shit jumped up and pounded on the cockpit door. "Let me in! Let me the fuck in! He's gonna fuckin' kill me!"

  "Sit the fuck down!" Baldy yelled. "He ain't gonna do nothin'."

  But Chicken Shit was in a full out panic and beyond following orders. He continued to bang on the cockpit door, screaming for them to let him in, to lower the aircraft...anything to get him the fuck out of there. When that didn't work, he stumbled over to the side door, falling into Baldy when they hit an air pocket.

  That was all the distraction Dante needed. Moving faster than human eyes could see, he took a running start and launched himself out of the back opening of the aircraft.

  In the time it took Baldy to push the skinny one off of him and raise his gun, his prisoner was gone. He started to laugh.

  "Well, that was easier than I thought it was gonna be."

  Chapter Ten

  Grace's eyes popped open, her heart pounding a mile a minute. She'd been sleeping soundly - surprisingly, with the first actual vampire she'd ever encountered passed out right in the next room and all - but something had startled her awake.

  A quick glance around showed her it was barely twilight, and still raining. It was too early for the vampire to be up, or Mojo either for that matter, but she craned her neck around and checked his cage anyway.

  Nope. She didn't see him. He must still be snoozing in his house.

  She stretched, rotating her still-sore ankle around a little to test it, and wondered what had awoken her. But all was quiet. Maybe it had just been a neighbor. Soundproof as her place usually was, she did hear them coming and going occasionally.

  Or maybe she'd just been dreaming.

  With a mental shrug, she rolled over and closed her eyes again. She'd just convinced herself that it must've been the guy across the hall when she heard it again: A bump at the window next to her head.

  She reacted immediately and without thought, thanks to her mother's training.

  Quickly and quietly, she rolled off the couch and onto the floor, then took off at a fast crawl towards the kitchen. She kept her head down, silently praying that she wouldn't be seen through the blinds that covered the windows. Even though they were blackout blinds, and the chances were slim to none that they'd be able to see her, she still began to sweat as fear clenched her insides. It dripped down her temple, and she blinked her eyes rapidly.

  Somehow she managed to make it to the kitchen without being spotted. Her heart pounded in her ears as she huddled on the floor behind the island and peered around the corner back towards the window. The setting sun outlined the distinct shadow of a person through the faux wood blinds.

  Eyes wide, she drew her head back again and leaned back against the cabinet, breathing hard.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Was the window even locked? Probably not. She lived on the 9th floor, and there weren't any balconies. Locking her windows just in case a bad guy decided to scale the building like Spiderman and sneak into her apartment had never really occurred to her. How the hell had they gotten up here?

  Her mind raced ahead. Unless it was a Spiderman-like something or another. But no, it had to be a human. It couldn't be those things Aiden had been talking to when they rescued Mojo. They couldn't come out during the day.

  At least she'd never seen them during the day before.

  But even if they could, if they were what she suspected they were, the salt circle would keep them out.

  Maybe she should've warned Aiden about them, and told him what she knew. Then again, they seemed to know him. For all she knew, he was one of them, and this whole amnesia thing was just an act.

  The distinct sound of a switchblade spurred her into action. Scooting across the floor backwards with her bad ankle dragging uselessly in front of her, she opened the corner pantry door just wide enough to stick her hand in.

  Inside, her palm closed around the handle of her father's Glock 9mm. She pulled it out, then stuck her hand back in to find the clip, slamming it into place as quietly as she could. Reaching in one more time, she found the silencer.

  Her hands shook as she attached it to the barrel, and she nearly dropped it once, but amazingly she managed to get it on without alerting her intruder of her presence.

  Inching the door closed again, but not latching it, she scooted over to the shadowy corner on the other side where she could see the window clearly. Gripping the gun firmly in her trembling hands, she steadied her arms on her knees, and waited.

  She was still hidden partially by the island, and the sun was rapidly sinking behind the horizon. Along with the clouds and rain, she hoped it would be dark enough that they wouldn't notice her right away.

  At least not until she could take a shot. And by then it would be too late.

  She cursed softly to herself as she heard them cutting through the screen. Couldn't they just pull it off and stick it inside? Nicely? Against the wall where it wouldn't get damaged? Now she'd have to buy a new one.

  Uninvited intruders were so damned inconsiderate.

  As the window slowly slid open, a smug laugh floated softly inside on the cool, damp breeze.

  Grace gave herself a mental kick in the ass. Dammit. Dammit! Why the hell didn't she ever lock those things? She knew better, but she'd gotten soft in the years since her Mom had been gone.

  The blinds pushed out from the window and she saw a black-clad leg with a climbing shoe attached to it appear from the bottom. It felt around blindly with its toe until it made contact with the floor, stepping right over the salt circle. A compact male body followed it a moment later, curling in backwards behind the blinds like an acrobat about to do a back somersault, and finally the other leg and shoe.

  Once completely inside, he dropped down into a crouch, and his head poked out from behind the faux wooden slabs as he took a quick look around.

  Wait. Wait. Not yet. Don't waste your shot.

  Her mother's voice echoed in her head as she bided her time. She couldn't mess this up. If she missed her mark, or worse, didn't hit him at all, she'd give away her location. And then it would be a standoff as he went for cover either on the other side of the kitchen island or into the closet.

  Where Aiden was sleeping.

  She spared a quick glance in the direction of the closed door, fighting to keep her breathing soundless and even, refusing to panic needlessly at the thought of him being in danger. Would he even wake up? Or would he be helpless as he slept until the sun went down?

  It was only because he'd helped her, she told herself. Anybody who helped her rescue her Mojo deserved a soft spot in her heart.

  A sudden movement in front of her had her eyes darting away from Aiden's hiding place and back to her intruder. He'd come out from behind the blinds now and was cautiously scanning the rest of the room. Staying low in a half-crouch position, he snuck along the length of the couch, and was soon out of her sight on the other side of the island.

  She listened to the light scuff of his shoes on the bamboo floor, trying to track his movements. Any moment now, she would see him when he got closer to the front door.

  Any moment now...

  She frowned when the scuffing stopped and he never reappeared. Long seconds ticked by as she waited for his next move.


  What the hell is he doing? Taking a nap?

  And then she realized what it was that he had come after. The bag! It was on the floor by the other end of the couch. He must've found it.

  They hadn't even checked inside of it yet, but apparently, she'd been right. There must be something valuable in there if the Suits had gone through the trouble of tracking her down and sending someone after it.

  Maybe he would just take the stupid bag and leave, and she wouldn't have to shoot anybody. If he believed no one was here, he'd just go right back out that window.

  And she'd sure as all hell be locking it behind him this time - with goddamned titanium bars.

  Time crawled as she waited for him to leave, but he stayed where he was. Was he searching through it? She held her breath and listened, but it was no use, she couldn't hear anything. Glancing towards the top of the closet door again, she saw that it was still closed.

  He wasn't seriously taking a nap? Was he? Her couch was comfy and all, but napping in the middle of a heist? That was a far stretch, even for these idiots.

  As stealthily as she could, she started scooting forward on her behind, holding her bad ankle up off of the floor and pushing with one hand while the other kept the pistol aimed steadily in front of her.

  Just a little more, just a little more...

  As she came around the side of the island, more of the couch came into view. She scooted up inch by inch until she could see the entire thing.

  No one was there.

  Dammit. Where the hell was he? Had he snuck back out the window? No, he couldn't possibly have gotten out without her seeing him.

  Maybe he'd gone out the other one? But no, there was no breeze. It was still closed.

  Well...what the hell?

  She slouched back out of sight. She needed to get back to her corner where she couldn't be caught unaware. Guiding herself with one hand on the floor, she pushed with her good foot to slide her butt back.

  Before she could make any progress, a sudden, blunt pain shot up her fingers and she whipped her head around with a stifled cry to find a climbing shoe digging into the delicate bones of her hand. Before she could react and try to pull her hand away, he lifted his foot and stomped down hard again with his heel, breaking the bones in her hand and wrist this time.

  She screamed in agony even as she swung her pistol around with her other arm and took aim. Instinctively, she fired, and the pressure immediately eased off her hand as the bullet went completely through his left hip and into the wood behind him.

  Her intruder staggered back on his useless leg, falling into the cabinets with a loud crash. Shattered glass rained around him as he collapsed with a yelp, landing on his torn up hip. Rolling to the other side, he reached around with both hands and slapped them over the entrance and exit wounds the bullet had left in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

  Grace sat stunned, her hand and wrist throbbing in pain. She'd actually shot somebody. Fuckin' A.

  He tore his eyes from his bloodied hip to glare at her, and she instinctively recoiled from the pure hatred she saw there. With an evil twist of his lips, he cursed her in Mandarin, promising revenge on her and all she cared about. Keeping one hand on the hole in his backside, he rolled onto his stomach. He started pulling himself towards her on his elbow, sliding along the floor, dragging his useless leg behind him. He looked like something out of a bad horror movie.

  Grace scuttled awkwardly back away from him as fast as she could with her one good arm and leg, the gun clunking on the floor with her movements.

  When her back hit the sofa, she lifted the pistol, taking shaky aim at his head just as the closet door flew open, slamming into the wall behind it with a bang.

  Aiden took in the situation with one quick glance. "Poppet, you should really wait for me to get up before you start shooting people. It takes all the fun out of it for me."

  Grateful tears welled up and ran down her cheeks as she watched Aiden stride calmly over to the kitchen to see who it was she had shot, but she kept the gun trained on her target's head, just in case.

  "I know this bloke," he told her. "He was one of the humans you were following earlier."

  His next question was directed to the guy who was still inching his way towards her. "All of this for a silly boot brush? He's really not worth it. He's no good at cleaning the muck off your shoes. He scurries around too much. You can't keep him under foot."

  Was he was going to stand around and chat all day, or was going to do something to help her? Did he not notice that the bad guy was still coming after her?

  Leaning over the island, his grey eyes were ablaze with excitement when they shot back over to where she still sat on the floor, wondering if she was going to have to shoot the guy after all. They were a direct contrast to the pained expression on his face. "I hate to tell you this, luv, but he's bleeding all over your pretty floor."

  His voice had changed. It sounded thicker, deeper, and...scarier...and completely unlike the teasing Brit she'd spent the last twenty-four hours with.

  Grace's eyes flew from her target to Aiden, almost afraid of what she'd see.

  She had to blink a few times at the sight of him, thinking at first it was just the water in her eyes contorting his features, but then she swallowed hard as she realized it wasn't the tears at all.

  For the first time, she was seeing him for what he truly was.

  His entire essence had changed. He'd become...more: His muscles were larger, his fangs longer than she'd ever seen them. And his face! His features had grown sharper, leaner, more menacing, and his eyes glowed from their sockets like they were lit from behind with an icy fire.

  Frozen to the spot, she was unable to move or speak. True terror crawled up her spine for the first time since she'd met him. As he cocked his head to the side, the hair on the back of her neck and arms rose eerily.

  He sneered, showing off his fangs as he honed in on her victim with a predator's stare. "How about I move him to the loo? Yes?"

  She somehow managed to nod, but he was already yanking him up off of the floor with one hand.

  A trail of blood smeared across her floor as he headed into the bathroom with his prize, dragging the terrified man behind him.

  The slam of the door had her nearly jumping out of her skin. A moment later, a blood-curdling scream came from the bathroom and echoed off the walls around her, fading immediately into a wet gurgle.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and threw her good arm over her head to cover her ears. The abrupt silence that followed was even worse than the screams. Grace's entire body began to shake.

  She was still sitting like that, gun held tightly in her unbroken hand, when Aiden found her a few minutes later.

  "Grace? Luv? It's all right now. It's over. He won't be bothering you anymore."

  Aiden's hands were as gentle as his voice as he stroked her long hair down her back, and then carefully removed the pistol from her grasp. "I'm just going to set this over here."

  She lifted her head cautiously as he placed the gun on the counter and turned back towards her. Other than a few drops of blood on his T-shirt, she could see no evidence of his latest meal. Thank the gods. His fangs had retracted, his warmth had returned, and he looked like, well...he looked like him again.

  But that warmth rapidly disappeared as she uncurled her body and sat up, and she followed his eyes down to her broken hand where she held it cradled protectively against her chest.

  Chills slithered over her skin as an animalistic growl rumbled low in his throat. Her eyes shot back up to his face just in time to see his fangs shoot down as his lips pull back into a snarl. Impossibly, his grey eyes grew even brighter then they were before, until they were so incandescent they were almost white.

  He prowled towards her, and she watched him come, her heart thudding in her chest, unable to speak, unable to flee.

  She was completely enraptured by his otherness.

  He was an awesomely beautiful creature to watch when he was
like this, even as he terrified her. His strong body flexed as he moved, so fluid, like a dancer, or a large feline. His handsome features appeared leaner, sharper. His attention on her was so focused and intense, she felt the rest of the world fall away until there was nothing left but the two of them and this moment.

  Grace bit back a cry when he abruptly dropped down directly in front of her. She couldn't help but feel like a wounded animal, about to be ripped apart by a predator. Which, she supposed, was exactly what she was.

  Unable to take her eyes from him, she started babbling nervously. "Aiden, you're scaring me. Please..." She choked back a sob, her words sticking in her throat as his glowing eyes flew to hers, capturing her gaze and hypnotizing her into silence as she waited for him to attack.

  But instead of pouncing, he reached out and took her elbow with the most tender of touches. Catching her injured hand in his, he released her from his gaze as he gently probed her injury with his fingers.

  She took a much-needed breath, and then cried out as he hit a particularly tender spot, and his eyes flew back to her face.

  Fresh tears flooded her eyes. "It hurts..."

  He sat so still for so long that her bones began to ache from sitting in the same position. Just as she was debating whether or not she should try to pull her arm back, he ground out between clenched teeth, "He did this."

  It wasn't a question.

  "Yes," she whispered anyway.

  He growled low in his throat again, and then gently released her arm back to her. After a few deep breaths, he appeared to have calmed a bit, and when he raised his eyes to hers again, the glowing was gone, and they were only slightly brighter than normal. The lines around them crinkled attractively as he murmured with a sadistic smile, "If only I could kill him again. Humans are entirely too fragile."

  "Yes," she said again, a little louder this time, then sniffed. She wasn't quite sure why she was agreeing with him.

  He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I suppose we should take you to the hospital."

  She flinched slightly at his touch, and then gritted her teeth for being such a girl and almost told him there was no need, but just nodded instead.