BloodMarked (The Fraktioneers Book 1)

by Lu J Whitley

  “You okay,” the man cooed. His voice was so calming, so caring, she instantly felt more at ease.

  “Will be,” she said honestly as she finally pulled the zipper free. “What’s your real name?” She wanted to keep him talking, infuse herself with that soothing voice as she started working on the Taker’s pants.

  “I’m Stein.”

  “Stein,” she rolled the word around in her head. “Like a stone?”

  He chuckled under his breath. “As in, I have a head like a stone.” His big fingers nimbly removed the other Taker’s boots and shimmied its pants down and off its ankles. “Jaromir named me.”

  “Named you?” She stopped what she was doing momentarily and stared up at him. “As in, when you were a baby?”

  He didn’t even look up as he finished with the first Taker, who was now in just a mask and a set of dingy tighty-whiteys. Gross. “Yeah. He practically raised me. Even when Fraktion told him to get rid of me.” He tossed the first Taker’s gear in her direction and chuffed out a breath. “But that’s a story for a different day. Get changed.”

  “Another day,” she mused, “Now, I know you’re friends with Jami.” Stein just chuckled and kept his head down, giving her a modicum of privacy as he silently moved on to the second Taker, finishing the job she’d started. “Wait, you’re the one who went to get my friend Jen.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s me.”

  “Well,” she goaded, “what happened? Is she okay? Where is she?”

  “She’s safe,” he grumbled. “You’ll see her when we get back to HQ. Now get dressed.”

  She huffed. Why couldn’t someone just answer a damn question? But if Jami trusted this man with her life, she trusted Jen was in a safe place.

  She picked up the garments and sized them up. The pants looked like they would fit, even though they’d be a little tight in the thighs. Men’s pants always were. The jacket… Well, the guy didn’t have boobs, so that was going to be interesting. Shyness giving way to necessity, she dropped trou - or bloomer - and stepped into the pants, pulling them up and buttoning them at the waist. She had to suck in to get the stiff fabric to zip, not lying-down-on-the-bed-with-a-pair-of-pliers suck in, but close. The pants gave her a hefty muffin top. She ignored it, pulling down Jami’s shirt to cover everything down to mid-thigh. Greta looked down at the socks and boots Stein offered her from the second Taker, immediately regretting zipping up before getting those squared away. She exhaled deeply, trying to make herself as small as possible, and bent at the waist to retrieve the items from the floor. When she stood back up, she was a little out of breath and seriously considered changing back into the bloomers. She’d be rocking a hot Olive Oyl look with the short pants and combat boots, but at least she’d be able to breathe.

  “So who’s your friend,” Stein asked, breaking into her thoughts. Now that he was done stripping the two Takers, he was studying Mady with a careful eye.

  “That’s Mady,” she said, huffing a little as she took a seat on the bed. She slipped her feet into the Taker’s socks and boots, wincing at the feeling of wearing someone else’s sweaty socks.

  “Did you slip her some roofies or something?” He reached out, his fingers braced above Mady’s small hand. His looked so huge by comparison. Dangerous.

  Greta instinctively hissed, “Don’t touch her.”

  Stein stilled, his hand still outstretched, but not moving. “Okay.”

  “She’s hurt. Was hurt. She lost a lot of blood.”

  “Oh,” he said as if that was a completely normal, everyday thing. He retracted his hand from above Mady’s and slapped the top of his thigh, grunting, “Ready,” as he pushed up from a kneeling position and rose to his full height.

  “Christ,” Greta breathed on a stunned exhale. She’d known he was big, but now, standing in front of him, she realized he was a giant. She was at eye level with the middle of his chest, and she had to crane her neck painfully to look him in the face. She was suddenly really curious about this Fraktion place. Where the hell did they find these men?

  He cleared his throat, and she blushed, realizing she was staring at him with open-mouthed fascination. “Ready,” he repeated, grinning widely and folding his arms across his broad chest.

  She grabbed the jacket from the edge of the bed, sliding her arms inside, but not bothering with the zipper. “Yeah.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding and turning toward the door.

  “Wait.” She stepped up behind him, feeling like a Lilliputian next to Gulliver. “What about Mady?”

  “What about her,” he chuffed, not even turning around.

  Greta crossed her arms and put on her best stubborn face. “I’m not leaving without her.”

  “Not my job,” he groused. “I’m here to get you out. Safe and alive. That’s it.”

  “I’m not leaving without her.” She was fully aware that this guy could easily make her leave. So she preempted that thought with, “Look. I know you’re bigger than me, and you can make me leave this room,” she looked him square in the eye as she continued, “But I will fight the whole fucking way. I will make your life a living hell if you try and make me leave without her.”

  Stein looked back and forth between her and Mady. She knew he was in a hard spot. He probably was under orders not to hurt her, so he couldn’t knock her unconscious. And she knew they were on a time crunch. She could see him weighing the options carefully, before he threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine. But you will do exactly what I say, when I say it. And you will not fall behind. Or I will drag you out of here by any means necessary. Understood?”

  She nodded in affirmation. “Understood.”

  “I don’t like you very much anymore,” he grumbled, though she could tell there was a hint of humor under the words.

  Stein slipped his long trench coat off his shoulders, exposing some seriously lickable biceps covered in intricate runic tattoos. Damn. If she didn’t have Jami on the brain, she’d be all over that like white on rice. She watched him crouch down and toss his coat gently over Mady’s sleeping form, tucking the edges in around her before he swept her into his arms.

  He turned to face her with a grim look. “I won’t be able to fight like this,” he warned. “There’s a knife in my right boot.” She nodded and reached down, slipping the knife free. “If we encounter anyone, you don’t hesitate, okay? Stab ‘em right in the fucking face.”

  Greta palmed the hilt of the huge knife. “Got it.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.” He turned toward the door again, and something brushed across Greta’s shins.

  She let out a small scream. “You have a tail!” She cried, pointing at the long lion-esque appendage that trailed from his lower back, swishing agitatedly from side to side.

  “Yep. Your point?”

  “My point is. You. Have. A. Fucking. Tail!”

  “Shh,” he hissed, but the sound was tempered by the soft chuckle that followed it. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  “Sometime.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “It’s always sometime with you guys.” He laughed again as he led her through the door, and they began to make their way through the castle.

  ★ ★ ★

  He was a God. The power roaring through his veins blocked out the sounds of the screams. He snapped another Taker’s neck back and brought the bruised flesh to his lips. His fangs sunk deep, and he pulled. Sucked. Until he’d bled the bastard dry.

  He didn’t know how much time had passed. He’d lost track of how many he’d killed. He only knew they were running away from him now instead of toward him. They were screaming, not yelling. Each scream he ended. Each heartbeat he felt flutter to a standstill beneath his fangs, heightened the sensation.

  Kill, the beast in his head laughed evilly, Kill.

  He could have resisted, but he didn’t want to. The endless waves of power that rolled through him filled him with an addictive high he’d never felt before. He’d never felt anything like it. Except when
he was kissing Greta. When she’d been in his hands, her long legs wrapped around his waist. When her moist heat was pressed against his throbbing cock. Greta, the thought ghosted through his fevered mind, but then it was gone.

  Kill. The urge replaced everything else, leaving no room inside him for emotions. He was a killing machine. Another Taker fell prey to his extended fangs. The blood washed through him, extending the high. Almost as soon as that vessel was empty, he was on the lookout for another one. The blood-lust driving him onward. He took another. Another. His hooked claws catching them as they ran. His crimson eyes glowed so brightly they lit up the darkened rooms.

  “Ragnarsson,” a voice broke through his blood-fueled rage. He knew that name. Why was it familiar?

  Kill, the beast screamed inside his brain, the command spurring him on.

  Something wrapped around his throat, stopping his forward momentum. Have to move. Have to feed. He reached up, scratching at the thick metal band that encircled his neck. It burned. His fingers retracted, the skin seared and blackened. He roared, “No!” The pain washed through him - the burning agony. What was it?

  “You are quite a sight.” That voice again. He knew that voice. His eyes searched the room in front of him. His vision blurred, everything cast in a blood-red hue. His wrist was whipped back, another burning band encircling his flesh. The other soon followed. He pulled, struggling until his muscles shook, but it was no use. The bands held firm. The metal sending out staggered pulses of searing pain. “Wonderful.” The voice was followed by a clap of excitement. Something moved across his vision, a figure, tall and slim with a close-cropped stand of black hair. Gray eyes studied him. “Is the pain delightful,” the figure laughed, “I hoped it would be.”

  He roared in response. There were no words inside him, but ‘kill’ and ‘pain.’ But as he looked at the figure moving slowly toward him, one more word appeared in his fevered brain. “Brandt,” he said, the word twisted by his thick fangs, his lips caked with drying blood.

  “Good to see you, Jaromir,” Brandt said, his tone genuinely pleased. “I am so glad you could join us.”

  Jami’s eyes flicked to his left and right. Lines of black-clad bodies appeared on his sides. He could smell their blood. Their fear. Kill, he thought, Feed. He struggled against his bonds, letting out a growl from deep in his chest. The men to his sides took a step back, and he let out a humorless laugh.

  Brandt took a step forward, perhaps trying to prove there was nothing to fear. Jami willed him closer. He’d like nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off the fucker’s face. Brandt whispered a word in the old language, and his bonds flamed to life. His wrists and neck split open where the skin was already charred, but the heat instantly cauterized the wounds.

  “I knew you would come for her,” Brandt whispered as he took yet another step forward. “So silly.” He tutted with his tongue in disapproval. “Always the hero, Jaromir.”

  Her? Greta. A sudden lucidity washed over Jami. Greta, he was there for Greta, and now he was trapped. Fear coiled in his stomach like a viper. Deadly. Poisonous. “What did you do to her?”

  “Her,” Brandt mused, “I merely set her power free.” He let out a hearty laugh. Her power? Jami was confused. He tried to shake the lingering haze from his mind. “I did not need to keep her anymore. She will do what is required, no matter where she is.” Brandt clapped a hand on Jami’s shoulder. “What I needed was you, dear boy.”

  “Me?”

  “With you out of the way, there will be no one to stop her.” Brandt gave Jami’s shoulder a painful squeeze. “So, thank you for that.”

  ★ ★ ★

  Greta gripped the back of Stein’s shirt so they wouldn’t get separated in the dark. He could apparently see perfectly well in the blackness. She wasn’t so lucky.

  “We’re going down some stairs here,” he whispered. “Be careful. They’re a little rough.”

  “Oookay,” she said, taking the first step and almost careening headlong into the big man’s back. The stairs crumbled under her feet, tiny pieces of stone rolling dangerously under her soles.

  Stein counted them out as they went, descending so slowly she was sure he thought she had the coordination of a drunken turtle. “Ten,” he breathed, “Last one.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding, glad to be back on solid ground. “How much further?” She wanted to be out of this place. The tension was killing her.

  “Not far.”

  They hadn’t run into any guards on their short descent through the castle. Not one. But she’d heard the screams echoing around her at the turn of every corridor. Stein had assured her it was just Jami doing what he did best, causing trouble. It hadn’t sounded like trouble. It sounded like a massacre. One she could only hope Jami wasn’t on the receiving end of.

  More than once, she’d been tempted to run off, leave Stein carrying Mady’s still sleeping body and run toward the sound of those horrifying screams. But she’d promised Stein she wouldn’t fall behind, even though she was sure he wasn’t the kind of guy that would just abandon Mady. Plus, she’d seen enough horror movies to know that you didn’t go off alone to investigate a strange noise. Especially screaming. Those girls usually ended up being chased through the woods by a chainsaw-wielding murderer who could walk faster than she could run. Call her crazy, but that wasn’t her idea of a good time. So she’d dutifully followed the big man down a never ending series of staircases and hallways until they’d disappeared behind a large hanging tapestry, entering a secret door that would lead them outside the castle.

  Greta’s foot tangled up in a piece of fabric, and she pitched forward, Stein’s muscled back breaking her fall. She huffed, her face buried between his shoulder blades. “Okay back there,” he said, and she could tell by the tone that he was grinning at her in the darkness.

  “I’m fine,” she groused, “Just tripped over something.” She felt Stein’s back muscles moving beneath her palms as he turned, letting out a huff of air in the process. “What is it?”

  “Jaromir’s satchel,” Stein breathed. She didn’t like his change in tone at all.

  “He should be here by now, shouldn’t he?”

  The big man chuffed out a breath and took a step forward, his long tail slapping loudly against his legs. “He’ll catch up.”

  “Stein…”

  “I said, he’ll catch up.” His tone brooked no argument. “My job is to get you out. That’s what I’m going to do.” He took another step forward, and when she didn’t follow, he said, “He’s a big boy, and he’s pretty much indestructible. He can take care of himself.”

  “But…”

  “If we don’t get you out of here, then all of this was for nothing.”

  “Okay.” She couldn’t argue. She grabbed onto the back of Stein’s shirt and let him lead her through a narrow opening. Out into the cold. Jesus, Jami, she thought to herself, Get out of there.

  ★Chapter 14

  “Just five more minutes,” Greta groaned, “Please?”

  Stein shook his massive head. Braids and beads whirled around his stern face as he grunted, “We can’t risk it.”

  “But…”

  “No buts, Greta.” He reached out and set one of his calloused hands on her shoulder. She could feel the soothing heat of him through the weight of her jacket and shirt, but it did nothing to warm her insides. There was nothing but the stark, cold terror that wrapped its icy fingers around her heart and lungs, constricting her breaths. “Sunrise was over an hour ago,” he said, the calm in his voice was maddening. “They can travel during the day, and they will be coming for us. We have no choice.”

  “I could go…”

  Stein roared and slammed both of his big hands into the metal bulkhead behind her, the impact booming through the narrow cargo hold. His face was so close now she could see the emotion swirling across his smooth whiskey irises. “He risked everything to go in there. All he thought of was saving you.” His tone was cold. Harsh. Not
the even-keeled croon he’d used up to this point. “And you want to give that all a big ‘fuck you?’ Walk in there and hand yourself right back to them?” She reeled back from the fury and the derision she heard in his voice, but she was borderline desperate. She was clinging to a dissipating hope that was quickly slipping through her fingers.

  “We have to do something,” she wailed, “Are you just going to leave him there to…to…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. A thick knot of emotion was caught in her throat, her breath hitching around it.

  A guttural growl rumbled in Stein’s barrel chest. “If you think for a second I’m not dying inside because I can’t go in there guns blazing…” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge his next words. “Jaromir’s the only family I have. But the last thing he told me to do was to get you to safety.” The big man dropped his hands limply to his sides and took a step back. “He’s fucking hard to hurt, much less kill. But if they find some way…” He cleared his throat gruffly. “If getting you out of there was his last wish, then I’m damn well going to honor it.” He turned away from her, heading back up the slanted walkway that bridged the cargo hold and cabin. “Let’s just hope you’re worth it.”

  Greta had nothing to say to that, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Stein had already disappeared through the entryway that divided the small plane in half. Was she worth it? She shook the thought from her mind. Sitting there feeling sorry for herself would get her nowhere. Obviously Stein was right. They couldn’t go back, and they couldn’t stay. Logically, she knew it was the truth. But as the roar of the engines broke the stillness of the cold cargo hold, her heart felt like it was about to burst.

  She had to do something. Jami’s voice flitted through her mind. Get over yourself and focus. Closing her eyes, she let her head slip back, connecting with the metal hull of the aircraft. The sensation wasn’t painful. Just bracing enough to shake some sense into her. She flew out of the chair she’d been warming for the last two hours, waiting for Jami to magically appear. The captain announced the, “prepare for takeoff,” but she ignored it. Her feet clomped together in the boots that were half a size too small for her to move with much grace. She grabbed onto the narrow railing to the diamond-plate steel walkway, her steps beating a loud path toward the cabin.