Blood Torn (Blackthorn Book 3)

by Lindsay J. Pryor

  She eased down off the vanity unit, purposefully letting her dress rise up with the motion. ‘Have I got it wrong? Only I was given your name.’

  He grabbed her by the back of her hair, the brutality of the grip seemingly familiar to him. ‘Are you with the authorities?’

  She snapped back a breath but forced herself to stay calm. ‘Do I look like I’m with the authorities? I told you – I want to know where my friend is. I’m willing to pay a lot of money. A lot of money.’

  ‘And what makes you think Marid’s got her?’

  ‘I know what questions to ask.’

  He smiled a toothy smile again. His grip switched from the hair to her upper arm as he yanked her back to the door.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, trying to constrain her worry as he led her down the corridor, away from the bar, deeper into the shadows.

  ‘I don’t talk Marid business in here,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder before taking a sharp left.

  He shoved open the fire doors, leading her out into the back alley. Her stomach wrenched, not least at leaving Jask behind. But she knew a protest would only evoke more suspicion.

  He took a sharp left at the end of the alley.

  She looked over her shoulder. At least it remained just the two of them.

  And she had to handle it alone. She had to prove to herself that she could handle it alone.

  They passed the metal slatted steps of a fire escape, water droplets already gathering on the rusted metal from the light spray falling from the darkness above.

  He backed her against the wall opposite it.

  ‘So, you want to be taken to Marid.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And you’ve heard of Marid? You know what he’s about?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Who was it that gave you his name?’ he asked.

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he said, placing his hands either side of her shoulders. ‘We both know I’m not going to take you to him. But we do know I’ll get that out of you.’

  Her pulse raced but not, she realised, with fear. His proximity, the underlying threat, was inciting her in a whole other way. Something was happening inside, something beyond her control. Her pulse was racing out of excitement.

  ‘And how are you planning to do that?’ she asked, the even edge in her tone surprising even her.

  He laughed, giving her another flash of his incisors as he glanced left and right down the alleyway.

  A second later he grabbed her hair again, yanking her head back even harder than last time so she was forced to arch her back as he pulled her into him, forcing her to look him in the eyes as he loomed over her.

  Pain shot through her scalp, but still she felt no panic. ‘That tickles.’

  He exhaled curtly. ‘Girl, you’ve got some guts.’

  She should have been pleading. She should have been begging him to let her go. Instead she gazed deep into his eyes. Her breathing was far from erratic; instead, it was as steady, focused and rhythmic as her heartbeat.

  She slid her hand up his hard chest to cup the back of his neck, to seductively rub her thumb along the nape. ‘Feisty, aren’t you?’ she whispered.

  A glimmer of uncertainty crossed his eyes. But there was also something else. He seemed to be losing focus. His grip loosened and he frowned, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away. Suddenly he didn’t look too sure of himself.

  ‘But you’ve got it wrong,’ she said. ‘You’re going to be the one telling me what I want to know.’

  He closed his eyes and shook his head sharply before letting her go. ‘Fucking witch,’ he hissed, shoving her away from him. He stumbled but quickly regained his balance. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as if ridding himself of the traces of some invisible drug. ‘Did you have something on your skin?’

  She smiled as she proceeded to slowly close the gap between them. ‘I’ll ask you again: Where’s Marid?’

  She could tell his masculine pride was preventing him from walking away, but more than that, he couldn’t walk away.

  She’d not been looking for the signs down in the ruins. Down in the ruins she hadn’t seen it coming. They’d taken a bite hard and deep and it had struck them fast – too fast for her to work out what was going on until it was too late.

  But now she was curious. Now she wanted to watch. Now she wanted to see the effects of whatever chemical was exuding from her skin continue to consume him, leaking into his system, intoxicating him.

  ‘Come on, Zee,’ she said, sliding her hand up his chest as she took her turn to push him against the wall. ‘Don’t let playtime be over already.’

  His move was swift, his hands grabbing her wrists before he forced her backwards against the wall opposite.

  She caught her breath as he pinned her against brick.

  His kiss was eager, hungry as he consumed her lips, her tongue; his hands grabbing her behind as he ground himself against her.

  And she did nothing to retaliate as he swept kisses down her neck, her chest. Instead she clutched the short hair at the back of his neck, urging him on.

  She realised she felt nothing, not even repulsion now – just flesh on flesh. She was becoming hazy herself just like she had read. When in her serryn state, her human body responded differently. And, in that moment, she didn’t care as long as she got what she needed.

  She turned her head to the side as he slid his wet kisses back up her throat.

  ‘Hungry?’ she whispered breathily.

  But instead of biting, whatever self-preservation was fighting through had him grabbing her hips and turning her away from him, slamming her face first against the wall, scuffing her cheek.

  But this wasn’t how it was supposed to work. And as he ground himself against her again, slid his hand up under her dress, she lifted her knee against the wall and shoved backwards.

  She’d only given herself a momentary advantage though. One that he quickly regained as he shoved her face-first onto her knees on the cold metal steps. He grabbed the back of her neck to hold her there as he moved in behind her.

  Her patience snapped.

  As he fumbled under her dress again for her underwear, she drew her foot to her behind so she could reach for the syringe.

  She lost her grasp as he found the top of her shorts.

  But he wasn’t getting off that lightly.

  As he freed her neck to unfasten the buttons on his jeans, she flipped around. She lifted her knee to her chest and slammed her heel sharply between his legs. She struck him for a second time – this time directly in the throat, right on his Adam’s apple.

  Zee fell backwards onto the concrete, momentarily stunning himself, his hands clutching his throat as he gasped for air.

  ‘That is not polite behaviour,’ she said, getting up and adjusting her clothing before lifting her foot behind her to tear off the syringe.

  She stepped over him and slammed her heel down into his groin again.

  Zee curled into a ball, his breaths short, shallow clicks. ‘Bitch,’ he hissed.

  ‘Worse,’ she said, with a smirk. ‘Serryn bitch.’

  His eyes widened as he stared up at her.

  Flicking the lid off the syringe, she slammed her heel into his chest, distracting him enough to plunge the needle into his neck. She inserted just a little of her blood before stepping away again.

  Zee slammed his hand to the wound and recoiled against the wall despite still fighting for breath, his eyes wide with panic as they fixed on her. ‘What… the fuck have… you done to me?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ she said. Knees splayed, she crouched down, just a few feet away. ‘Let’s call it the starter before the main course.’

  Perspiration dripped from his brow, his entire body already trembling.

  She tilted her head to the side as he remained clutching his throat, his other arm already in a tension spasm.

  ‘Where’s Marid?’ she asked. />
  ‘Fuh… fuck you,’ he exclaimed, dribbling spittle from his numbing mouth.

  ‘You tried that,’ she said. ‘As I’m sure you’ve tried it with many before me. Only you picked on the wrong one this time, didn’t you, Zee?’ She held the syringe up between them. ‘Or would you like me to prove the point a little more?’

  He flinched, pinning himself tighter against the wall.

  ‘Or I could make you bite,’ she said. ‘You have worked that out, right? I can override that fear and make you sink your teeth deep into me and drink. Make you feed to death. But,’ she said. ‘I get the strong feeling you’re the type to peak too early – and I need information. So we’re going to do this nice and slowly.’ She glanced over each shoulder. ‘For which you picked such a perfect place. I really am very appreciative.’

  ‘You stay the fuck away from me,’ he warned, as she stood up to step back over him.

  He tried to bat her away, but she pinned his only working arm to the wall as she sat astride him. He tried to buck beneath her as she held the tip of the syringe to his lips.

  ‘Don’t be a spoilsport,’ she said.

  He turned his head away, his mouth tightly sealed as she squeezed a few droplets onto his lips.

  He quivered, clearly using all his willpower not to lick it off.

  ‘Where’s Marid?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘One little taste, vampire,’ she said. ‘That’s all you’ve had.’ She slid her thumb into the inside of his lip. ‘Can you feel yourself weakening? I know you want more. Much more. And I’ll give it to you – slowly, painfully. Because you will tell me.’

  He tried to let her blood dribble out of the corner of his mouth as he pressed his head back against the wall, every sinew in his neck straining.

  But he couldn’t stop himself swallowing.

  He jerked as more of her blood penetrated his system.

  ‘Marid, Zee. I want to know where he is.’

  But still he stayed silent.

  She held the syringe up in front of him again. ‘Do you know what a full syringe of this will do?’

  Hyperventilating, his eyes widened again, sweat trickling down his temples.

  ‘Last chance,’ she remarked.

  He shook his head.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, slamming the syringe into his heart. She pushed the plunger down a little.

  ‘Drake’s corner!’ he said, his speech slurred, his eyes clouded with blood. ‘Drake’s corner,’ he repeated, as if uncertain he’d said it aloud.

  ‘Which building?’ she asked.

  He glazed over, every limb stiffening.

  ‘Don’t you pass out on me yet,’ she warned, grabbing his jaw and making him look at her. ‘Come on, Zee – it’s a big estate. Which building?’

  He gasped for air. ‘Regency.’

  ‘Good boy,’ she said. And pushed the plunger down a little more.

  His eyes widened again. Then he shuddered just like the other two vampires had down in the ruins – convulsing and jolting like some insane wind-up toy, the strained grimace on his face too telling as he tried to swipe her away.

  ‘Stop making such a fuss,’ she said. ‘You can’t expect me not to see this through.’

  She pressed the plunger down a little further, until a hand grabbed her wrist.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Phia stared up at him across her shoulder. But it wasn’t Phia’s eyes Jask was staring back into. Like staring into a mirror for too long, he didn’t recognise the face staring back. Because, right then, the eyes he thought he had come to read so well he didn’t recognise at all. There was no longer vulnerable chaos behind them – just pure, driven, dark intent. She had tortured the vampire for information. Now she was torturing him for pleasure.

  It seemed to take a moment for her to register it was him who had grabbed her but, as soon as she had, she turned back towards the vampire and attempted to push down on the plunger again with her free hand.

  Jask was behind her in a second, lifting her off Zee in one simple move. He slipped in behind the vampire as soon as he’d moved Phia away, and broke Zee’s neck with ease.

  Phia glowered at him – frustration and disappointment emanating from once warm eyes that were now sub-zero. ‘What the fuck did you do that for?’

  ‘You’ve got your information.’

  ‘You had no right to interfere.’

  ‘You got your information.’

  There was even something different in her stance now – her hands on those shapely, slender hips. Hips that were now emphasised by her cocking one higher than the other, those rolled-back shoulders thrusting out her chest. Everything about her exuded something sultry, seductive. And lethal.

  This was the serryn he had yet to see.

  But, as she stared at him from under those eyelashes with a look that was far too evocative, he wasn’t entirely convinced how intentional it was.

  ‘We’re going,’ he said, taking her by the arm and turning back down the alley.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ she asked, pulling him to a standstill and stepping in front of him, blocking his way.

  He looked down at her hand – at the slender fingers now splayed against his chest, before looking back into her eyes. Eyes that now smiled at him.

  Lascivious eyes.

  She slid her hand down to his groin. ‘No one’s going to come down here,’ she said, moving in close enough for him to feel her breath on his neck. ‘Not for a little while.’

  She unfastened his belt, all the while guiding him back against the wall.

  His heart jolted as she slipped her hand inside his jeans, inside his shorts, coiling those slender fingers around his instantly stirring erection.

  ‘What do you say, Jask?’ she asked, her lips curled into an intoxicatingly wanton smile as she lifted them to his. ‘How about you try and make me scream like you once promised?’

  She tightened her hand, rubbed her thumb under his sensitive ridge.

  He jerked, breathed deeper than he meant to, his whole body stiffening involuntarily. He closed his eyes for a split second – something he had never done when faced with a predator. And right then that was exactly what Phia was – an unsated, frustrated predator.

  That was all.

  He took hold of the wrist that held him. ‘Neither the place nor the time.’

  ‘As if either matters,’ she said, lowering to her knees.

  He snatched back a breath as she exposed him fully before taking him into her mouth without hesitation. Pressing his head back against the wall, he stared up at the dense clouds above.

  The warm wetness of her mouth, the depth with which she took him into it made his lower spine ache. He looked down at her as her tongue played around his tip before she consumed him again, taking him deeper, deeper still, until he clenched his jaw with the sheer pleasure of it.

  Maybe this was it. Maybe he was finally seeing the real her. This was the serryn who roamed the streets. This was what she did.

  And better that she let off that frustration with him than some vampire.

  His hand instinctively grabbed the back of her head, his fist coiling in her hair.

  This was a serryn in action.

  And damn good she was in action – lost in the moment, lost in pleasuring him and, with it, herself.

  He pressed his head back against the wall again as she grabbed his behind, taking him into her mouth again – hot, silky, hungry for him.

  Her enjoyment was intoxicating, the way she lingered over tasting him, one hand now pressed to his abdomen, keeping him against the wall.

  He’d had enough encounters to know how to switch off his emotions. Only this time he couldn’t disconnect. Not from her.

  He couldn’t do it. He closed his eyes again. He couldn’t let her do it.

  He cursed under his breath. It wasn’t right. It was Phia, but it wasn’t Phia. Not Phia in her right mind. Like some drunken act, she was intoxicated by the serryn blood that coursed
through her. Like a split personality, the temptress going down on him was not his Phia.

  But she wasn’t his, which made the fact he was considering stopping her even more unpalatable.

  Too many times he would have let her continue, but he had to remember who he was now. More importantly, he had to remember who she was. And the damage this could do them if he let her continue.

  He pulled himself from her, grabbed her arms and lifted her to her feet. He let her go only to force himself back into his shorts and jeans. ‘Enough,’ he said.

  She reached for his jeans again just as he’d fastened them. ‘Don’t be a tease.’

  He grabbed her wrists, spun her and pressed her back against the wall, pinning them either side of her shoulders.

  Instead of being startled, her eyes flashed playfully. ‘Or we can play it this way of you want.’

  He stared into her brown eyes – glossy, tempting, dangerously seductive, viciously alluring.

  ‘I know you want me,’ she whispered.

  ‘Not like this,’ he said.

  ‘Then how?’ she asked, yanking her hands free, reaching for his jeans again. ‘Are you going to wine me and dine me, Jask?’ She unfastened the top button again before tearing open the rest. ‘Are you going to get down on one knee and propose? Hmm? Or are you going to punish me like you keep promising and fuck me on the naughty step?’

  His heart jolted again at the enticement of her words. Only this time there was more than mocking behind her eyes. This time there was sadness. Tears were starting to form. Whatever emotions were inside, the floodgates were beginning to open.

  ‘Let’s not pretend this is anything else,’ she said. ‘Let’s just do this. You want me and I want you. I want that lycan out, Jask. I don’t care if it hurts. I want it to hurt. You’re capable of that, right?’

  He caught hold of her hands again, this time both of hers in one of his as he refastened his jeans.

  ‘I said stop,’ he said firmly, his stomach wrenching.

  She wasn’t just vulnerable; she was positively fragile.

  Only right then he wasn’t sure he was strong enough, could contain the heritage flowing through his veins enough, not to consume every inch of her regardless.

  ‘We’re leaving,’ he said, breaking from her penetrating gaze as he yanked her from the wall, tugging her back down the alley.