Angelic Blood (#5): Alpha Warriors of the Blood (The Blood Series)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  Merck hits him from behind, the tips of talons rip through his sternum and blood splatters on me. The drops that hit my shirt don't matter.

  The ones that land on my bare thighs begin to burn.

  Acid.

  His blood is acid. I scream, frantically trying to wipe the blood off. Instead, my hands start to sting as Drake's blood eats away at the skin of my fingertips. “Get it off me!” I shriek. I stand like I'm on fire as trails of his blood begin to sink into my flesh like ribbons with teeth.

  “What the fuck is this?” Merck shouts, jerking his talons out of Drake.

  Drake sags to his knees—desperate to heal the damage. But he doesn’t matter, all that matters is the agony. I rush to the sink, slap on the tap and toss my leg over the countertop, throwing cold water on the wounds.

  “Merck!” I scream, in a high pitched wail. “It's burning me!”

  Merck rushes to my side, takes one look at my skin and sprints back to Drake. He grabs him by his hair, dragging him to me.

  I watch his glittering blood pool and drip along the cement floor in a oil-slicked trail.

  Tears run down my face, my breathing is erratic.

  My crotch starts to sting.

  Oh dear Lord—no.

  I moan, sobbing in earnest now. Death by Dragon's blood.

  What a way to go.

  “Help her,” Merck grits, hauling Drake up by the armpits and dumping his upper body on the countertop. His head bounces on the solid quartz.

  He groans, blood flowing everywhere, hissing as it eats at the stone.

  Merck dances to avoid it, and I begin to sink.

  Drake grips the edges of the countertop, eyes rolling over my wounds. He gradually comes back to himself, but I can't sit still. My crotch is on burning, my thighs feel like a spiderweb of lacy fire has been woven over my body.

  I bite my lip to keep from screaming—passing out.

  Merck puts his arms around me, holding me up. My vision flutters gray at the edges.

  Drake's eyes grow large, the pupil dilating. “I must lick her, it's the only way to slow the poison.”

  My eyes roll up in my head. I want to die.

  “No,” Merck says in a low voice.

  Drake lifts his head from the countertop, seizing Merck by the throat which jerks me, and I moan in pain.

  “My saliva will halt the progress. Battle blood is deadly.”

  “Fucking moon!” Merck yells, pissed. “Do it you fucking reckless prick.”

  Drake's eyes meet mine, but I'm so far gone I see peridot perfection, oblong black slits widen as his mouth parts. Then his tongue is on my thigh.

  Raspy wetness coats the wounds, and I whimper in immediate relief. The pain begins to subside and I fall limp within Merck's arms. “Yes,” I whisper-hiss.

  Merck gives a rough exhale but he holds me steady.

  Drake's face moves uncomfortably close to my crotch. My eyes snap wide.

  I can't ask. But I know if I don't say something, I won't recover. Fresh tears fall and Drake's tongue catches each one.

  “A female of our kind—her tears are precious.” My breaths pile up uselessly, one on top of the other.

  Merck growls, “You've done enough damage, back off.”

  Drake's teeth show as sharp as an alligator's.

  I shiver.

  “Is there any other place where my battle blood touched you, Talyn?”

  A hoarse sob escapes, and I cover my mouth, twisting within Merck's arms. “Yes,” I answer, the pain is so raw I can barely breathe.

  “Where?” Merck asks.

  I shut my eyes, shame and pain war inside me. Finally, I can't stand it anymore. I open my legs, and Drake's eyes move to my vagina.

  “No!” Merck shouts.

  “Yes,” Drake replies and dips his head.

  2

  Merck

  Every fiber inside me is screaming to kill the fucking dragon. If he were dead, Talyn wouldn't be dying from Dragon's blood.

  But if he dies—so does Talyn.

  Drake gives me a split-seconds consideration. But he knows.

  He knows I won't let Talyn die.

  Drake moves his mouth close to her pussy. When his forked tongue exits I tense, Talyn's flushed face turns to me, her eyelids breaking open.

  Then Drake begins to lick her.

  Talyn's eyes snap all the way open. She moans, and I die a little inside.

  It's not a pain sound. It's an: I love how that feels sound.

  Drake easily scoops her naked ass cheeks into his large palms, cupping them and pulling her hips into his mouth.

  The movement drags us all closer.

  His tongue penetrates her deeply, I watch each forked inch disappear inside her.

  Talyn throws her head back, gripping his shoulders, her breaths coming in quick pants while I hold her suspended.

  “That's enough,” I seethe at the fucker.

  His eyes rise to meet mine, golden-green and piercing. His tongue slides out of Talyn's wet depths.

  “You wish to take a chance with this rare female's life because you don't want me to taste her sweetness?”

  The tip of his tongue trembles, and I realize it's like a cat's tail twitching in agitation.

  Good moon.

  “No!” I say just below a shout. “But I think you're doing more than what's necessary.”

  Our noses are almost touching over Talyn's splayed body. “Perhaps. But what if I do not do enough, and we watch her die an agonizing, preventable death?” His eyes hold mine. “Choose—her death or your pride.”

  “Pride,” Talyn whispers between us.

  Fuck. I nod, wanting to head butt him. The dragon is right. But I can hate it if I want to.

  I do.

  He moves to her pussy again and begins licking in earnest, really lapping as she writhes.

  His finger moves to her clit and I grab his wrist.

  “Don't, Dragon.”

  “It is Drake—let me give this female pleasure, Lycan.”

  I jerk my hand away as he inserts his tongue to the hilt, swirling a finger on her clit.

  Talyn lasts a half-minute more and shatters apart in my arms, screaming her pleasure at the top of her lungs.

  That bastard Drake keeps tongue-fucking her.

  I look away in disgust as the female I want as mate comes in another male's face.

  Finally, Drake removes his tongue and finger from Talyn and she lays limply in my arms. Drake takes a hold of her thighs and gently closes her legs. Leaning forward, he lays the side of his face against her knees in clear tenderness.

  I seethe. “Don't pretend.”

  He lifts his face, scales undulating, appearing and reappearing like moving opalescent glass across his skin. “I am not.”

  I pull Talyn up and she wraps her hands around my neck. I cast a venomous look at Drake and carry Talyn to the bathroom. Turning on the tap as the water fills the tub, I review my options. There aren't a lot.

  Drake has found us. He saved Talyn after putting her in danger. I haven't reported to Charles. He's most likely already pulled me from this change and reassigned it to someone else.

  Definitely.

  I want to go rogue. I've moved against all the directives of Changers by committing the greatest sin.

  Claiming a change.

  Then I allowed another shifter, not even a Lycan, to be intimate with my chosen female. It's a clusterfuck.

  “How is she?” Drake asks from behind me. He didn't surprise me, I scented scale boy before he came in.

  “She seems okay.”

  “I'm fine,” Talyn mumbles, trying to cover her nudity inside the clear water. I hear her shame even as she tries to hide it. Smell it.

  Her emotions burn my nostrils.

  It's time for Drake to answer some questions. “What do you mean—your kind?”

  Talyn rolls her head against the edge of the tub, looking at Drake. Sweat and blood mat his short hair to his head.

  I probably l
ook the same.

  “What I mean is, my saliva would not cure Dragon's battle blood unless you carried a little in your own genetic makeup.” He shrugs. “I took a calculated risk.”

  I stand, hands curling into fists.

  Talyn's eyes brim with tears, tracking us.

  “She is Lanarre. I've transitioned her. She is Lycan now, Dragon. Thank you for saving Talyn—now get the fuck out.”

  I point to the bathroom door, and the one beyond.

  Drake shakes his head, as though I'm a misbehaving child.

  I stand, stepping into his space like I own it.

  “Please, Merck—no more.” I turn my head to her.

  Talyn's lip trembles, a fingernail nearly gone from the hand that grips the side of the tub, and shame burns inside me.

  Talyn tried to attack Drake in wolfen form, having never shifted—done any of the things she should have known or been taught how to do.

  I step away, hands on hips, head tucked low, trying to rein in my anger at Drake's presence, his deeds. His existence. “Now what?” I bark at him.

  “Talyn Phisher has dragon's blood. Not much, but enough that I took a chance outing myself as trying to pass as being a Mutable when I was anything but.”

  “Oh and those guys just let you be part of their colony without you proving you could be something besides dragon?” I ask in mock horror.

  His scales grow hard-edged, and I realize his emotions play a part in the manifestation of his beast. “They never asked. They were so thrilled to have a dragon as part of the colony when I claimed I was Mutable, they just accepted it.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  Drake sighs, raking his hands through his hair, getting shit on his fingers and sighing in disgust. “Because hiding what I am in plain sight is the smartest choice for me. A prehistoric nomad gets gang-killed if he, or the rare she is discovered. No one wants us around unless we're working for them.”

  Ah. So protection. Don't understand why a dragon would need protection.

  Drake searches my face. “I am formidable—as you've found out.”

  I twist my lips. He's not getting dick out of me—confession or otherwise.

  His eyebrows jerk to his hairline. “But I'm only one shifter. I'm no match against ten shifters. That is why I got lucky with Talyn. I played along with their sick games until I could find a way to slip her out.”

  “She's Lanarre, Dragon.”

  “Just call him Drake, Merck. I think we're past trying to treat him like the enemy.”

  I give her a look to silence, and she huffs, folding her arms. “Jerk.”

  “You keep repeating Talyn's Lanarre status. It does not negate the possibility she is a female of my kind.”

  Talyn does a slow blink, looking between the two of us. “So I have a couple of drops of Dragon's blood.” Talyn shrugs her naked shoulders, excavating the mounds of her tits like smooth mountains surfacing the water.

  Drake and I salivate at the view.

  She laughs, shaking her head. “You guys are single-minded.”

  Drake shakes it off. “It matters. You have no idea how much. There have been no females found with prehistoric blood—of any kind—in a decade.”

  “Oh shit,” I put together the meaning behind his words, flicking a glance at Talyn inside the cooling tub of water.

  Her face is tight with anxiety. “So we have the whole saber tooth tigers, and woolly mammoths flocking to get a stick at me?” Talyn asks with a snort. She's trying to lighten the potential, but her face shows her fear.

  Drake's face tightens. “Yes.”

  I sit down hard on the side of the tub. “Well how the fuck am I supposed to keep her safe?”

  “How indeed?” Drake asks.

  Talyn's eyes narrow at him even more than mine.

  “I'm sure you have a plan,” I comment with slow suspicion.

  He grins. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Figures.

  3

  Narah

  “Murphy!” I yell, falling beside him. He's pale. Well—paler than normal.

  “He'll need blood, now.”

  “Over my dead body!” Mollie spits, the co-worker from hell.

  “That can be arranged,” Aeslin comments smoothly.

  “Fuck it! I hate all the fangs in here, I'm leaving!” Mollie grabs her jacket and begins to stalk out.

  I have a lot of hate to hand out today and she gets the first helping. I tear open my forearm with a sliding swipe of fangs and my blood wells.

  Matthews grabs my wrist. “Narah—no.”

  “I have to!” I yank my wrist from Matthews and place it on Murphy's chilled lips. “Come on!” I yell, working my opposite hand down from elbow to wrist, prompting my blood flow. It drips slowly at first, then it fills his mouth.

  Murphy groans, choking then swallowing. He sits straight up like a propped plank of wood, his soulless gaze stares blackly at me. Gripping my body, he pulls me onto his lap, all the while siphoning my blood.

  I rest my head on his shoulder as he takes from my vein.

  “Get him off her!”

  Matthews.

  I feel sleepy.

  Aeslin pulls at Murphy, trying to dislodge him without hurting me.

  Impossible.

  I'm getting lightheaded. “Murph,” I say.

  He ignores me, staring and suckling.

  Fuck. My scalp begins tingling. “Stop,” I say in a low voice full of command.

  He shudders as though juiced with something abhorrent. His fangs release me, and I softly fall backward in the middle of our office floor.

  Aeslin catches me. Then Matthews fist catches Murphy's jaw. “Fucker!” he roars.

  Oh shit.

  Aeslin cradles my body.

  “Stop, Matthews—I'm okay.” My voice sounds like a croak.

  “You're okay when I say you're okay.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Aeslin winks. The sane vampire of the three of us.

  Matthews hauls Murph up and shakes him like a rag doll. It doesn't sound like much but from my perspective on the floor, jerking around a six foot plus dude who weighs over two hundred pounds is no small thing. Of course, Matthews is now vampire.

  “Stop beating the shit out of my youngling, John.”

  He growls until it becomes a hiss, dumping Murph on the floor. His ass lands with a bone-jarring crack.

  I wince, covering my eyes.

  What a shitty night. The guys find out I'm baby mama, then Murph gets his ass kicked by a rogue dragon, and my client's somewhere with a Changer—unwilling to be transitioned.

  Marvelous.

  “Help me up, Aeslin.” He scoops me from the floor, my arms and legs dangling. “No,” I sigh, “I'm not a fragile little girl, set me on my own two feet.”

  Murphy smirks from the ground. “I live for these sights, love.”

  I scowl but manage, “Fuck off. You cost me.”

  He gives me a sullen look.

  “Why did you let Dragon kick your ass?”

  Murphy splays his fingers on his chest like who me?

  “Yes you,” I answer out loud.

  “He's a prehistoric, Narah. My fangs can't even pierce his ridiculous armor.”

  “You managed!” I harp.

  “Once!” he yells, standing and trying to dust off the seat of his pants.

  “Watch it,” Matthews warns.

  Murphy gives an irritated swipe of his nape. “Listen, the bloke had me wrapped and clocked before I could react. The only reason I'm not dead right now is that bitch Mollie walked in and distracted the wanker.”

  I scab for patience from the vast trenches of my endless compassion.

  Nope, don't have any—as per usual. “Murphy. Listen close—I want this guy. I need to get to Talyn. Hell, we need to. She's a client and if she's even still alive it'll be a miracle. Now the dragon is after her and she's with Merck.”

  “It is problematic,” Aeslin says, stroking my arm.

  “It
's more than that, Aeslin.” I jerk away from him.

  “She's really touchy with the babe and all,” Murph explains.

  I glare at Murphy. “Don't try to help, Murph. Just tell me what you know.”

  His broad shoulders slump. “I know as much as you know. He ran off after our client, using his wonderful beak to find their scent.”

  “Great!” I say, waving my arms around. “He's probably already there and there's been a battle and who knows what else.”

  “Do not borrow the worry, Narah,” Aeslin says, wrapping his arms around me. “You cannot save them all.”

  “I want to though.” I don't stop the tears, but I don't let them dissuade me from my goal.

  Talyn Phisher.

  I wipe my eyes, ignoring the males as they stare at my hormonal meltdown.

  I stalk out of the office and they follow.

  Even with the hormonal upheaval, it warms a secret part of me I keep hidden.

  No matter how prickly I am, they've got my back.

  4

  Noah

  “What do you have on Drake?”

  Jacob grunts. “Same old thing, nomad and loving it.”

  I tap where the pulselocator beacon silently blinks red then nothing then red again. His dot is moving.

  “Drake is not following the colony. His plan to ʻhide in plain sightʼ might not be working.”

  “I never liked ʻthe planʼ. Drake's the one who sweet talked the council into allowing him this risky experiment.” Jacob paces away, hands on hips, his animal peeking out from his mouth. Though his tusks are a twentieth of the size they'd be in animal form, it gives proof of his agitation. If you can't keep your teeth human, emotions are in charge.

  “Tone it down, Jacob. We'll find Drake, and when we do, he can tell us what the fuck's been going on.”

  Jacob whirls, slapping his fist on the wood table. It's solid, one hundred year old oak. A crack forms, running like an escaped ice skater over the polished surface.

  “I'll tell you what's going on. He's found a female, and he's keeping her for himself.”

  I fold my arms. “Well we can't very well share, Jac.”

  He straightens, his fist flexing and loosening. Jacob's not a believer in shaving, five daysʼ worth of stubble trying for a beard covers his square jaw, coal black eyes shifting back to mine. “That's never the point. He was sent out as a bridge between our clan and the other, lesser shifters in search of females. The other shifters are searching too. But them—pfft—they can find a few females a year. What about us? A couple a decade?” Jac shakes his head. “No—I say we find Drake and force his accountability.”