Blood Torn (Blackthorn Book 3)

by Lindsay J. Pryor

  She laughed. She wished to goodness she hadn’t. ‘Really? And how far are you willing to take it? Only you don’t want to start what you can’t finish, Jask. Not with me.’

  ‘Does every survival instinct not tell you that tempting a predator in his own territory is a really bad move? Or does that serryn arrogance make you numb to it?’

  ‘Because you are tempted, aren’t you, Jask?’

  This time he did smile. Only this time the smile was laced with nothing but contempt. ‘Sorry to bitterly disappoint, but I like my females a little more…’ he raked her swiftly, dismissively, ‘mature,’ he said, pulling away again.

  ‘Yeah, or maybe you don’t know how to finish the job, more likely!’ she yelled after him. ‘You have me right where you want me and you can’t see it through. Guess that comes with being able to lick your own balls, right?’

  He stopped.

  When he turned to face her again, her stomach jolted, a trail of expletives trampling each other in her head.

  ‘No need to ask how it’s going,’ Corbin called out, approaching fast from the courtyard.

  Jask remained at a standstill, despite the flare of anger still glowing in his eyes, his jaw tense. But it was the way he clenched his hands that troubled her the most. Hands that, despite concealing the talons she had no doubt had emerged, told her she’d messed up big time.

  And it was made even more troubling by the concern in Corbin’s eyes as he noticed too.

  ‘As you can see,’ Jask said to him. ‘She’s still in one piece so I haven’t reached my limit yet.’

  She wasn’t so sure.

  Neither, seemingly, was Corbin, by the urgency with which he moved in beside him. ‘Not quite the quick taming we were hoping for though?’

  ‘Temporary setback,’ Jask declared, breaking from her equal glare in a clear attempt to disconnect himself from the moment. ‘Due to an excessive amount of sexual frustration seemingly.’

  Further mocking was the last thing she could handle right then. ‘Fuck you!’ Sophia snapped. ‘And your boyfriend!’

  Corbin exhaled tersely. ‘No need to ask if you’re ready to exchange rings. That’s some temper she’s got. What did you do to her, Jask?’

  ‘It’s more a case of what I didn’t do.’ He dared to look back at her. ‘Isn’t that right, honey?’

  Embarrassment heated her face. She turned her attention to Corbin. ‘I bet you know how to satisfy a woman, right, Corbin? Only your boyfriend here isn’t up to the job. I’m starting to wonder who the real alpha around here is. You want to show me?’

  Corbin’s eyes widened. ‘Wow, sweetheart, you’ve got some nerve.’

  ‘You think I’m kidding. Don’t worry; pretend-alpha-boy there can watch. He might learn something.’

  ‘Is she for real?’ Corbin asked, as he and Jask exchanged glances.

  Jask folded his arms with a shrug. ‘Like I keep saying – too long chasing vampires. Maybe you should take her up on her offer? Let her know what she’s been missing.’

  Her stomach wrenched at Jask’s easy dismissal.

  Corbin appraised her swiftly. ‘She’s not my type. Too much to say for herself.’

  ‘I can silence her for you, if it’s a distraction.’

  ‘But then I won’t be able to hear her scream.’

  ‘Shall I get you boys some tea and biscuits while you chat?’

  They both looked back at her at the same time.

  Her stomach flipped. She tightened her grip on the knife, her arms stiff by her sides whilst resolving to add that moment to her well-established list of reasons to hate herself.

  Jask looked back at Corbin. ‘Do you know any other female would dare stand there and goad us both?’

  ‘She’s got spirit, that’s for sure.’

  Jask smirked. ‘She wants you first. She clearly knows the difference between a warm-up and the main show.’

  Corbin grinned at his jibe before they both looked back at her.

  She had to tell herself it was fine. She was calling their bluff and they were calling hers. Or she was being dangerously naïve and she was rapidly getting herself into a situation she wasn’t getting out of easily. Not without a massive swallow of pride at least.

  Because there was no way Corbin was touching her.

  ‘In that case, maybe you should go first, Jask,’ she said. ‘Then at least I’ll have something to help me get over my disappointment.’

  Jask raised his eyebrows slightly.

  Something was seriously wrong with her. If she’d suspected it before, now she knew for sure – especially as the lycan eyes that glowered back at her only made her body ache more for him. The thought of what he could do, what he was capable of, evoking tingles of anticipation.

  Jask was swift and efficient. He closed the gap between them in an instance – one arm sliding behind her back, locking her arms behind her in the process before he scooped her up in his, keeping her legs secured against him with his infallible grip.

  But instead of carrying her behind the building, he turned around and marched back across the courtyard towards the quadrant.

  ‘Put me down!’ she demanded.

  ‘Trust me, I’m tempted,’ he said, his glower fixed ahead, his fair hair blowing in the breeze. ‘In more ways than one.’

  She tried to wriggle but it was useless.

  ‘Petulant, obnoxious, irritating…’ he muttered.

  Turning left out of the tunnel, he marched along the path, Corbin close behind him.

  Jask kicked open the double doors into the nearest building, both giving way easily to his onslaught.

  As he burst inside, the echo immediately filled her with a paralyzing fear.

  The darkness exacerbated her fear enough, light kept at bay by the debris covering the glass roof. But it was the dark reflective surface below that overwhelmed her with abject terror. Her pulse reached painful rates as he stepped up to the edge of the swimming pool.

  ‘No!’ she gasped.

  But there was no hesitation from Jask.

  Her stomach vaulted as he threw her in.

  She plunged deep into the pool, the cold liquid rushing over her. Her body went into shock. Water filled her mouth. Horror consumed her as she was sucked into the depths.

  All she could see were the reeds again, a flashback to the sensation of falling from the tree branch into the lake, her twelve-year-old body consumed by icy water.

  In her flashback, there was nothing but her and the darkness again. Nothing but powerlessness. Nothing but the lake plants coiling around her legs, around her arm as she fought for the surface, tightening their hold and restricting her as she’d helplessly flayed.

  In the there and now, she reached the surface, but failed to snatch enough air before the weight of her boots dragged her down again. She was too consumed with fear to unlace them and kick them off. Too weak in her panic to fight.

  Those boots may as well have been those plants that had coiled around her as a child, and she was weak again.

  And gulping water only escalated her panic, her frantic snatching at the water’s surface forcing her to sink further as she tired quickly. She lost sense of time, of place, of the situation.

  She barely registered something heavy slide into the water beside her.

  Feeling restriction around her waist, her first instinct was to lash out. But the arm that held her, that pulled her towards the surface, was strong, unrelenting, skimming her through the water, lifting her out of it seconds later.

  As her back met a hard surface, she curled onto her side, hoisted herself up onto her arms, her palms flat on the floor, her head downturned as she coughed up water.

  Shivering and trembling, she gasped for breath, fear-induced tears tightening her throat and accumulating in her eyes.

  As soon as she felt strong enough, she struggled to her feet, unable to look at Jask as he pulled himself out of the water beside her.

  Because she didn’t have to look at him to know it was
Jask who’d saved her – even in her panic she knew that hold.

  She brushed dripping hair from her eyes as she stumbled away, marched back towards the doors, past Corbin, yet another humiliation too much to bear for one night.

  * * *

  Leaning back on both arms, his legs stretched out in front of him, Jask gave Corbin the nod to let her pass.

  ‘Told you you’d try to kill her,’ Corbin remarked as he strolled over to join him.

  ‘How was I supposed to know she couldn’t swim? She grew up in Summerton for fuck’s sake.’

  Corbin looked back towards the door where she’d disappeared. ‘Summerton, huh? Bit of a comedown – privileged princess to Blackthorn serryn.’

  And a bit of a comedown from an overconfident, mouthy, arrogant serryn to a shaken, vulnerable girl, from the way she’d fought back the quick onset of tears.

  Guilt sliced through him with a serrated edge. Guilt he was determined to suppress. She’d had it coming. Besides, she’d got off lightly compared with what he could have done to her for her provocation.

  The cold water had done them both some good.

  And maybe him more than her as he’d watched her storm away – the evocative sway of those feminine hips, his sodden shirt barely covering and clinging to that shapely behind.

  She had no idea just how lightly she’d got off.

  But he wasn’t going back there. He wasn’t returning to being the lycan who acted without fear of consequence. The lycan who indulged his own needs rather than those of his pack. Because from the way every instinct in him was firing, if anyone was capable of inciting a setback, it was that serryn.

  He pulled himself to his feet, caught a glimpse of his friend’s raised eyebrows. ‘What?’ Jask asked.

  ‘She had you right where she wanted you – you know that, right?’

  And the fact that he did know it only made it worse. In a split second a battle of wills had become about pride – not just lycan pride, but male pride. She’d not just dug the knife in, she’d twisted – and she’d dared look him in the eyes as she’d done it.

  And the fact she knew exactly what to say to get that reaction evoked a sense of vulnerability in him that he despised.

  ‘I was perfectly in control.’

  ‘She’s poison, Jask. It’s true what they say. If you were a vampire, you’d be dead now.’

  ‘But I’m not a vampire, am I?’

  ‘No. You’re the leader of this pack and we need you. She pushed your buttons out there. You know how dangerous that is. I saw the way you looked at her. Worse still, I saw the way she looked at you. If this becomes about you and her and not her and this pack, you’re heading for trouble.’

  ‘She called me the TSCD’s bitch, Corbin. Kane’s bitch. She looked me in the eye and told me giving evidence in that courtroom made me a coward.’

  Corbin exhaled tersely. ‘If that’s what’s got you so riled, you know better. She’s screwing with your head. It’s what they do – vampire or not.’

  ‘Is she? Or is she saying what everyone out there is thinking – that I can’t protect my own?’

  ‘See – that’s what I mean. No one believes that.’ Corbin stepped closer. ‘Everyone knows you did what you had to, to free Tyler and Malachi. And being a part of exposing the TSCD’s corruption showed you’re not scared of anything. It showed that we look after our own and that we won’t be pushed around. She’s jibing where it hurts, that’s all. She’s testing for weaknesses and you’re letting her. What she thinks doesn’t matter and you know it.’

  He stared down at the dark water. But it did. What that serryn thought did matter. Reputation was everything in Blackthorn and if she believed it, others did too. And if others believed it, he needed more than ever to show he could protect what was his. He had to do his job. He had to protect his pack. And she was not going to be the one to change that focus.

  ‘Jask,’ Corbin said. ‘Reassure me again that there’s not another motive underlying bringing her here.’

  ‘And like I said last time you asked – as if I’d be that obvious.’

  ‘Really? Only your reaction to what she said proves just how much it’s been eating away at you this past two weeks since Kane disappeared. This whole collaboration between you and him was supposed to be about preventing a civil war, not instigating one. So if he has gone soft on Caitlin Parish, you don’t want to cross that line. If she’s told him you threatened her outside that courtroom, he could already be baying for your blood.’

  ‘Then he can come and face me. Because what we’re dealing with now does not change the fact that he allowed those responsible to go to trial instead of killing them as we agreed. It makes us look like we have a chink in our armour. It makes it look like I can’t protect this pack. It’s bad enough that I owe Tyler and Malachi fourteen years of their lives whilst waiting, trusting, that Kane would see our plan through, but his letting us down at the last minute has put us at serious risk.’

  ‘If he has let us down – we still don’t know that.’

  ‘But we do know our survival depends on us not being seen as an easy target in this district, Corbin, and that vampire has undone everything we have worked for to keep our pack safe. I wasted fourteen years of not enacting my own vengeance only because I trusted Kane when he said he had a better way. So Kane and I are far from over. But if it makes you feel better, I can assure you I’ll deal with Kane only when I have time to deal with Kane. For now, he’s the least of my concerns if I can’t get that serryn to do what we need.’

  Because as much as the prospect of sending the serryn after Kane had crossed his mind on seeing her, this was about far more than that, especially as his attention reverted to what he’d almost missed – something that was either paradoxically a ray of light or a pending disaster.

  ‘You saw those tears, right?’ Jask asked.

  ‘And?’

  ‘They weren’t fake.’

  ‘So?’

  He rested his hands on his hips. ‘Serryns don’t cry, Corbin. That’s why those little droplets are even more valuable than her blood. If this was a set-up by the witches, they would have sent in their best. Those tears prove she’s most definitely not that.’

  ‘So you think we have got lucky?’

  ‘Or not.’

  ‘But if she can cry, she’s got a vulnerable side. That makes her more tameable, surely?’

  ‘Or she’s not tough enough to do this.’

  What he needed was a hardened serryn he could meld. A complication of vulnerability, however advantageous for that, he didn’t. Especially not from the way he’d felt something he had no right feeling when he’d seen those tears in her eyes.

  ‘So which is it?’ Corbin asked

  Jask looked back towards the doors. ‘I’ll have to push a little harder to find out, won’t I?’

  ‘I know that look,’ Corbin said. ‘Don’t make this personal. Serryn or not, physically she’s still just a girl. If you lose yourself again, this pack will be lost. For good this time. Don’t you forget that.’

  Chapter Six

  Six days previous

  The agent from the Lycan Control Unit sat on the opposite side of the table from Jask. The other two guarded the exit from the compound’s outer room, guns held diagonally across their chests. They stared ahead, keeping their eyes averted.

  ‘Where’s Kinley?’ Jask asked as the unfamiliar agent clicked open his collection of metal briefcases.

  ‘Agent Kinley is off sick.’ The agent declared it too curtly for Jask’s liking, let alone that he remained focused on taking out the various vials and foil sheets of medication instead of having made eye contact yet.

  ‘Kinley hasn’t taken a day off sick in twenty years.’

  ‘Then clearly he deserves one.’ The agent skimmed through the electronic pad he held in his hand. ‘But I can assure you I know what I’m doing.’

  Jask was seconds away from slamming the electronic pad from his hand, seconds away from grabbi
ng the agent around the throat and dragging him across the table towards him. The whole system was insulting. Having to play ball with the authorities to secure what little freedom they had left was derogatory enough. But the agent’s attitude was adding to Jask’s building irritation, not least during what was already a bad night. ‘Which is why you haven’t looked me in the eye even once in the past ten minutes – a basic courtesy us lycans expect.’

  The agent looked up at him. His eyes flared slightly, confirming to Jask that his glare had been appropriately interpreted. ‘Agent Harper,’ he said. ‘With my apologies.’

  Not entirely convinced on the sincerity of the latter, Jask nonetheless followed the routine of laying the inside of his forearm out between them albeit whilst his glare remained on Harper’s.

  Every month it was the same. First came the blood test that would invariably show Jask had refused to take the issued meds, instead remaining with the pack’s own concoction to control their condition. Jask would then be asked how many of his pack had taken the meds. He would confirm the names of those who had opted in – those who, unbeknown to the TSCD, were the rare few allergic to their herbs but who didn’t want to go through morphing like others in the same situation.

  Tyler and Malachi had been two of those. They’d relied on the meds. Meds that, true to the Global Council’s claims, stopped them morphing. But both lycans, as well as the handful of others who opted in, still retained their hostile, argumentative and impulsive edge during the lunar phase – unlike with the lycans’ own concoction – which only added to Jask’s concern as to what the meds truly contained.

  The fact that Tyler and Malachi had subsequently been targeted by the TSCD despite their co-operation, that the TSCD had used the volatile edge their meds failed to suppress as evidence against them in the Arana Malloy trial, had seemed even more cruel.

  Because no lycan wanted to morph, any more than any allergy sufferer wanted to experience the symptoms, no matter how natural to their physical chemistry.

  There had been historic warriors amongst them who had embraced it in the past, for whom surviving the pain of the initial changes physically and emotionally had marked them as superior. Superior because it took decades to learn to manage the pain, let alone decades to develop self-control as baser urges took over. But that was back in a time when lycans were allowed to run free to develop those skills.