Wild Thing: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (Blueblood Vampires Book 2)

by Michelle Hercules

  “Saxon!” Ronan yells from somewhere.

  With difficulty, I lean on my elbows and stare at the massive hole in my chest, which is spewing blood. Fuck. Blood also slowly fills my mouth. This can’t be good.

  My vision is turning blurry, but I can see when several large males burst into the clearing, shouting and brandishing assault weapons. No swords for the dragons. They have embraced the modern world completely. I recognize Larsson among them, but I don’t think familiarity is going to help us right now. They seem pretty pissed off, but at least the beast dragon has stopped attacking.

  Suddenly, Cheryl drops next to me. “Damn it, Saxon. Why did you charge that dragon?”

  “It was going to fry Lucca and Manu. I had no choice.”

  Cheryl opens her mouth, but something catches her attention. She unfolds from her crouch, bending her knees and keeping her hands at the ready. I have to twist my body to be able to see who’s approaching. A tall male with brown hair and an expression that’s not one bit friendly is standing in front of her.

  “Tell your friend to back off, Jagger,” Cheryl warns.

  Okay, then. Cheryl is on a first-name basis with the guy. It seems everyone in the supe community mingles besides we vampires. And when I do decide to dip my toes into a different pool, I end up mated to a witch.

  “Jemma has every right to be furious. That vampire killed her son!”

  “Oh my God. Manu didn’t kill anyone. She was set up.”

  “Set up by whom?” The dragon raises his eyebrows.

  “By Jacques Tellier,” I say with difficulty. Clutching my chest, I get to my knees.

  “Saxon, don’t try to move. You’re hurt pretty badly.”

  “You were a fool for getting in Jemma’s way,” the dragon says.

  Cheryl whirls around so fast, she’s in the guy’s business in a split second, holding him by the lapels of his jacket. “If that beast hadn’t burst into the clearing, spitting fire, we would have been able to explain what happened.”

  “You say the vampire didn’t kill the kid, but where are the witnesses? Sorry, love, I don’t think your word is going to matter much to Jemma or Larsson.”

  Despite his harsh words and Cheryl’s threatening position, the dragon’s angry expression relaxes a fraction. I’m sensing they’re more than simple acquaintances. Oh man. Ronan is going to have a cow when he finds out.

  The dragon covers her hands with his and gently pushes Cheryl away. Neither speak for a couple of beats, but they’re still too close to one another.

  Ignoring Cheryl’s advice, I get up. I only remain vertical for a couple of seconds, enough to see that the gray dragon has shifted back into her human form. She’s now cradling her son in her arms, crying so desperately that it puts a chink in my heart. My mother cried like that when she saw my sister’s mangled body.

  Right before my legs give out from under me, the familiar tingles of the mating bond ripple down my spine. I try to locate Aurora in the gloom, but my vision is slowly fading to black, and the last thing I see is the ground getting near as I fall forward, boneless.

  31

  Aurora

  I let the bond guide me to Saxon, driving like a maniac without regard for speed limits or safety. The closer I get to him, the stronger it becomes, but also the sense that something is terribly wrong with him. He’s hurt. That much I know.

  The invisible link leads me to a forest on the outskirts of town. There’s no road going through it, which means I have to ditch the car. Running the rest of the way it is. Pushing my muscles to the max, I run into the woods, not caring one bit that it’s pitch black and my human sight can’t adjust to the darkness fast enough. But nature doesn’t care about urgency. I trip over an exposed tree root and fall on my knees and hands, scraping both. The pain of the impact is jarring. The cuts on my skin burn. But I shake it off. The agony swirling in my chest is stronger, and it eclipses everything else. Saxon needs me.

  My breathing is coming out in bursts when, after running for about two minutes, I reach a clearing. My pulse drumming in my ears prevented me from registering the sounds of turmoil until I come upon the scene. I halt for a moment to take it all in. It’s a fighting ground, but the players are a surprise. This isn’t a war between vampire clans. This is a war between species. Vampires and dragons, to be exact.

  The tug in my chest becomes stronger. I barely register all the individuals in the meadow as I look for Saxon. He’s standing twenty feet away from me next to Cheryl and a dragon shifter who looks familiar. Sensing my presence, Saxon glances in my direction, but instead of stepping forward, he collapses face first.

  “Saxon!”

  I take off, crossing the distance between us as fast as I can. There’s no slowing down when I reach his side. I drop to my knees so fast that it’s another fall. My knees throb, but it’s my heart that’s bleeding. With shaking hands, I turn him over, wincing at the sight of his pale appearance.

  “Is he breathing?” Cheryl asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  My vision is blurry, and I can’t tell if his chest is rising or not. It has been punctured by something rather large. The hole is the size of a fist, which allowed blood to spill freely. If he weren’t a vampire, the wound would have killed him instantly.

  “His chest just moved,” the dragon chimes in.

  Then I see the slow rise and fall of Saxon’s ribs. Holding him by the shoulders, I shake him. “Saxon, wake up.”

  I sense when our group becomes larger, but I don’t dare take my eyes off him to see who joined us.

  “He’s on the verge of going into hibernation. He needs blood,” Lucca says in a raspy voice. He must have been screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “I haven’t been able to feed him from my vein,” I reply through a choke.

  “You’re the only human around. It has to come from you,” Cheryl insists.

  She’s right. I reach inside my bag and pull out a small dagger. Without hesitation, I slash my palm and press it against his lips. But he remains unresponsive.

  “Come on, Sax. Drink up,” I murmur.

  “That’s not enough blood. You have to force it down his throat.” Cheryl crouches next to me.

  My hands are shaking so terribly that when I press the blade against my wrist, I’m afraid I’ll end up cutting my hand off. Cheryl reaches over, prying the dagger from me.

  “Here. I’ll do it.”

  She slits my skin with a swift move, not giving me any chance to pull away. It burns like acid, and when she applies pressure above the cut, the blood that spills out is hot and thick. Droplets fall over Saxon’s lips, dripping down his chin. I force his mouth open, holding the makeshift blood fountain above it.

  The seconds seem to tick by slowly until Saxon’s eyes fly open and he gasps loudly. His eyes turn a deep shade of red, and for a moment, I don’t think he recognizes me. I’m wrong.

  “Rora, my love.” He lifts his hand to cup my cheek. “You came.”

  My face feels warm and wet. Shit, I’m already bawling my eyes out. “Of course I came. You’re my mate. Now stop talking and feed.” I shove my wrist against his mouth.

  His fangs pierce my skin, and immediately, the pain from the cut fades away. With each pull, something blooms inside of me. It takes me a moment to understand that the strange feeling is nothing more than the euphoria of connecting with Saxon at a deeper level. My blood is his lifeline.

  The sensation doesn’t last long before the magic from the blood vow rears its ugly head and attempts to ruin everything. Once again, I fight for control with every fiber of my being. Saxon needs my blood; I won’t let this stupid decision I made get in the way of helping him.

  My head feels light, and suddenly, the world seems to tilt off its axis. The loss of blood combined with the fight I’m waging within me is sapping all my energy. The repel spell is growing inside as I lose the battle against the unwanted magic. In another second or two, the electroshock will zap from my hands, and knock Saxon
out. In his current weakened state, I might send him straight into hibernation, which means I might not ever see him again.

  With my free hand, I blindly search for a crystal inside my bag. My fingers brush over a few river stones, but a crystal can store more magic, so it will give me a bigger boost. Finally, I touch sharp edges. I curl my fingers around the object quickly, and at once, power rushes through me. The sense of vertigo vanishes, and I can focus on isolating the blood vow magic, keeping it contained until Saxon is done.

  Then something peculiar happens. I can’t feel my body anymore, nor hear any sound around me besides my own breathing. It’s almost like I’m immersed in a sensory deprivation pool. A second later, I’m shoved forward, landing in a different place. I’m in Elena Montenegro’s apartment. The old witch is kneeling in front of an altar, praying to a statue that wasn’t there when I visited. My heart lurches forward. Above the statue there’s a symbol painted on the wall in red. A symbol I just saw in the book about the Boucher family.

  I only linger in the scene for a couple of seconds before I’m yanked back by an invisible elastic band. I snap back into my body with a jerk. My senses return in a rush, making my skin tingle. I’m lying on my back, and above me, hovering with a worried expression on his face, is Saxon.

  “Rora, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me? I don’t understand.”

  “You let out a cry and then collapsed.”

  I press the heel of my hand against my forehead. “It was the blood vow magic. Did I hex you?”

  “No.”

  I’m still feeling out of sorts after my bizarre experience. Did I travel all the way to Elena’s apartment for real? Then does that mean she’s somehow worshipping a demon? Solomon gave me the tome about the Bouchers for a reason. I have to ask him what that symbol in the book means.

  I try to sit up on my own, but Saxon links his arm with mine and gently pulls me up. My eyes immediately drop to his chest. He bled so much that the stain has covered the entire front of his shirt.

  “I’ll heal, my love.”

  It’s the second time he called me that, but only now the coin drops. “Why are you calling me ‘my love’? I thought you didn’t believe our feelings were real.”

  Guilt shines in his eyes. “I’m sorry I said that.”

  I hold my breath, dying to hear more from him, but the world decides to interrupt again when King Raphael himself plus four of his highly trained soldiers march into the clearing. The dragons present seem to grow larger as they square their shoulders. At least they’re pointing their weapons down. The king’s Red Guard flank their boss, keeping their hands casual and loose by their sides. But despite their stance, their hard expressions leave no room for doubt. They will kill anyone who tries to harm the king.

  Lucca moves toward his uncle, but he stops halfway when Ronan and Manu join him. I was so focused on saving Saxon that I completely forgot the reason he was here in the first place. A quick overall glance tells me Manu is not harmed.

  “Larsson,” the king says in his rich tenor voice that carries in the open. “I trust you weren’t going rogue again.”

  King Raphael’s comment is met with obvious deep-rooted anger. The relationship between vampires and shifters, especially dragon shifters, has never been as strong as his relationship with witches and mages. Somehow, all the supernatural types have managed to co-exist in Salem without any real conflict. As long as everyone stays on their turfs, everything is fine. Things are not the same outside of Salem. Boston, for example, is famously known for the constant bloodshed caused by gangs of different species fighting. Since humans outside of Salem don’t know jack about the supernatural communities, they think the violence is caused by regular criminals.

  “It wasn’t any of my people who stepped outside of their turf. A young dragon was killed, and your niece has his blood all over her.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone!” Manu retorts angrily. “I was set up.”

  “Manu.” The king levels her with an intense stare, dousing her fiery indignation in an instant.

  Larsson steps closer to him, lips peeled back, aggression rippling over his body. “I warned you when I agreed to your terms that I didn’t want to be dragged into your clan war. Now look at him!” He points at a dead guy in a woman’s arms. “Gus was only seventeen!”

  Ah, shit.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Spare me the sentiment. Consider this your final warning. If you don’t deal with your enemies on your own, I will not restrain my people. They will come after all vampires, regardless of allegiance.”

  The woman who was holding the dead dragon in her arms rises to her feet. “Do you know who did this to my son?”

  “Not with one hundred percent certainty,” Ronan replies.

  “I want a name.”

  “Ma’am, I can’t give you a name. You—”

  “Give me a fucking name!” she roars so loudly she might be in her dragon form.

  “Jemma, you will have your revenge,” Larsson says calmly, before turning to the king. “I want his head, Raphael. I don’t care what that is going to cost you.”

  “You’ll have it, Larsson. You have my word.”

  32

  Aurora

  It’s almost daybreak by the time we arrive at Bloodstone. Saxon was all jittery in the car, moving in his seat almost as if he wanted to jump out the door and run. It’s an ingrained instinct in vampires to seek cover when sunup is near. Saxon chose to drive back with me, but I kept my distance from him, even though I was itching to reach over and squeeze his hand.

  When I think how close I was to losing him to this unfair condition vampires suffer from, my heart twists savagely in my chest. I’m not sure how long he’s been awake since the last time he hibernated, but I still have plenty of years left of him until I … fuck. If I manage to be free of the vow I made, and thwart my unwanted marriage, there is the immortality detail to deal with. I’ll grow old and Saxon will remain the sexy god that he is. I’m not sure if I will be able to handle that. And would he want to stay by my side and watch me wither and die?

  The sky is getting lighter, but it doesn’t mean our evening is over. The mood within our group is depressing as we walk up the steps of the dark stone building. Silence is prevalent. Even Saxon, who has been always quick with a joke, doesn’t say a word.

  Once we’re inside, Lucca glances at Manu, breaking the silence first. “I have to see Vivi. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I just need to feed and rest.”

  “You should have gone home with the king,” Ronan grumbles.

  “And you should have gone after Cheryl,” she snaps. “She’s sleeping with that dragon, you know.”

  It’s right then that I remember where I recognize that dragon from. He’s the bartender Cheryl screwed when we went to rescue Rikkon from Larsson’s clutches.

  “How do you know that she is?” I ask.

  She gives me an arrogant look. “I could tell.”

  “From the one-second glance you spared in their direction?” I raise an eyebrow.

  There’s no reply from her unless I count her death glare as one. Maybe she’s so in tune with Cheryl because Ronan is definitely linked to the she-wolf, and only a blind person wouldn’t notice Manu has a thing for the brooding vampire. And there’s Karl in the mix too. I’d bet a limb he’s more than just a familiar. No wolf shifter would pledge an eternity linked to a vampire if some serious feelings weren’t involved. Damn. This is not even a triangle anymore. It’s a square of unresolved issues and complications. It almost makes my relationship with Saxon seem easy in comparison.

  He brushes his fingers against the back of my wrist, sending a blazing ripple up my arm.

  “I’m going to see Solomon. Will you come with me?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  We say goodbye to our companions and head over to the headmaster’s office. Saxon was able to drink from me, but t
hat’s far from enough to recover from the wound he suffered. His appearance is still too pale for my liking, and he has dark circles under his eyes.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbles. “I’m okay.”

  “You scared the hell out of me. Don’t do it again.” I force my eyes to remain focused ahead, even though every fiber in my body pulls to him.

  “I scared you?” His voice rises a little. “You were the one who collapsed and stayed catatonic for a whole minute. I thought … fuck, I thought that I had drunk too much from you.”

  The choke in his reply makes my heart twist in a vicious manner. But it’s the inability of reassuring him through touch that hurts the most. I know it has only been a day since I snagged the promise from the warlock to free me from the blood vow, but after we see Solomon, I’ll have to find a way to contact him.

  I get lost in my head for a minute, and don’t notice right away Saxon’s change of demeanor. He stops abruptly and snarls as he stares at Solomon’s closed door.

  “What is it?”

  He doesn’t reply, but Solomon’s door opens, and I understand why Saxon is going berserk. Calvin steps out, spearing me with a look of so much hatred and loathing that I could choke on it.

  “Well, well. So he’s the fucking reason you hexed me, bitch.”

  In a blur, Saxon moves, pouncing on Calvin before I can stop him. The force of the impact sends both careening to the floor. Saxon is on top, clawed hand high above his head, ready to strike while he keeps Calvin pinned down by holding him by his neck. Solomon comes running out of his office, eyes bigger than saucers and bulging out of his skull. At once, he uses his special familiar power to knock Saxon off Calvin in the nick of time.

  “Fuck!” Saxon cries out, hugging his middle. Then he rolls onto his side, and I see that his wound is bleeding again.