by Amanda Vyne
“Gabe?” Her eyes were carefully measuring each move of the last two Sanguen.
“Just a scratch,” Gabe returned, putting every bit of available strength into his voice. He was bleeding out quickly. The hunger was already burning through his body but he controlled himself. Kel needed every bit of her strength to battle with the two Sanguen whose strength would be incredible from using the Guardian blood.
She glanced at him again. He could see the concern and fear fill the darkness of her eyes, glittering in the blackness. With a firming of her lips she pulled the small flip phone from her hip and held it out to him. “Make the call for me, baby. I need to talk with your friends.”
Kel smiled and slowly walked forward, hips swaying. His eyes instinctively dropped to how the worn jeans hugged the curve of her hips. He was mortally wounded, not dead. He flipped the phone open and pressed a button.
“There’s two of you and only one of me.” Her voice was soft, seductive as she tapped her full bottom lip with one finger. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” Then she was gone, the clang of the blade she was holding hitting the concrete momentarily drawing their attention. She reappeared behind them, claws extended, eyes glittering with promise. Her arms swung out, slashing at one of the men. Blood splattered on the face of the other as his comrade slid to the ground, but when he turned with a curse she was gone.
FURY HISSED THROUGH her making her vision sharper, her hearing more acute. She could hear the uneven beat of Gabe’s heart and she knew he wasn’t telling her the truth.
The bastards had tried to kill him.
The fury seared her. She could feel the heat of it pumping through her blood. She wanted to throw her head back and howl with it. Gabe belonged to her. She may not be sure what she wanted to do with him yet but she wasn’t going to allow anyone to take him from her.
Kel reappeared between the last Sanguen and Gabe. The man held a knife, the sun giving the blood on it an eerie glow. This man was obviously using something, otherwise how was he standing out in the sun at midday?
A van screeched around the corner down the street.
The remaining Sanguen glanced over his shoulder. Even through the vinegar she could catch a distinct scent. One she vaguely remembered from the parking garage outside her apartment. It was the yellowed bruises surrounding his eyes that jogged her memory though. He was the hypodermic needle-toting bastard. “He’s got something special planned for you, bitch. You’ll be seeing me.”
“I can’t wait.”
Then he was gone.
Kel turned and picked up Gabe’s blade on her way back to him. She levered her shoulder under one of his arms as his knees buckled and he slowly sank down. There were several small gashes on his face but they weren’t healing and that sent a little frisson of fear skittering over her flesh as she lowered him gently to the ground. Blood soaked his shirt and slicked the front of his pants. He’d lost so much blood. She ripped his shirt open to see the wound.
Her heart slammed into her throat as she saw the multiple stab wounds. Blood loss had obviously been the objective. How could she possibly slow the bleeding from them all?
Why in the hell had he been out here on his own?
“What the hell, Ferrar?” Kel gasped as she tried to apply pressure to the one that seemed to be bleeding the worst. His blood soaked her hands and she began to tremble with the onslaught of fear. His eyes fluttered open.
“You looked so sexy with my blade.” His voice was weak and thready. The air hissed from between his pale lips when she pressed down with her other hand on another stab wound.
“God, Ferrar, your priorities are seriously fucked up.” She sobbed, the inky blackness fading from her eyes. Screeching tires told her the cleanup crew and medics were here.
A smile brushed his pale lips as his eyes fluttered closed.
“Damn you, Ferrar, don’t do this.” Three men in Incog uniforms with black bags pushed her out of the way and began working over him.
Kel had never been so afraid in her life and she’d been involved in some really scary shit. Her hands shook as she watched their frantic movements. She held them out, palms up, to gaze down at them in surprise. Blood coated them and she wasn’t sure whose it was. It couldn’t all possibly be Gabe’s. It could belong to the Sanguen she’d sliced to ribbons when the fury was riding her so hard. It was gone now. Now all she felt was hollow and cold.
Folding her arms across her middle she leaned forward as the pain bent her in half. From a distance she could hear this heart wrenching, low moan. It sounded like a wounded animal.
“Kel.” The voice was a wisp of sound. The inhuman noise was coming from her and the sound of her pain was making Gabe struggle against the medics. “Kel?”
Kel jerked to her feet, reaching out to him, gripping the cool breadth of his hand. “No, don’t. Just relax.”
“Agent Sheridan.” A hand settled on her shoulder. “Are you injured?”
Kel lifted her head and looked at the man but couldn’t see him. She clutched Gabe’s hand. He was fading; his constant presence in her she was secretly coming to treasure was slipping from her. She looked at the medics working around them.
One man had a stethoscope in his ears and he shook his head. “Diminished breath sounds in the lower left lobe. Lung’s punctured.”
“His O2 sat is dropping. We need to transport him now.”
“He’s lost too much blood, we’ll never get him back to the clinic in time.”
The words reached through her shock and she jerked, then shoved one of the medics out of the way, ignoring him. With one claw she slashed her wrist and, knocking the oxygen mask away, pressed her open flesh to Gabe’s cold lips, forcing him to drink. He was going to make it. Damn him. He couldn’t just make her want him more than anything in her life and then die. She refused to allow it.
Glancing up, she met the eyes of the medic she’d shoved away. “Call us in. I’ve never been to the clinic so they’ll have to meet me in the south entrance.”
They’d started fluids and the medic handed over the small bag of saline and stepped back with a nod. She could hear the sound of boots crunching against the asphalt as they ran back to their van. Urgent voices murmured and she picked up words like “critical” and “massive blood loss” but she couldn’t let that distract her, weaken her. Somehow she needed to gather the focus and strength to transport them back to Incog. She didn’t know if she could do it without him being conscious enough to help her with the transfer. It was a long distance.
“Come on, Ferrar, give a girl a hand here. You told me we were it. Remember? Forever. Don’t tell me you lied. If you do I’ll stab you where it’s gonna really hurt. Ferrar! Damn you!” Kel pressed her wrist harder against his lips and gave a little laughing cry when she felt him begin to pull the lifesaving blood into his body. Swiped at her face with the back of the hand that held the IV bag. “Good. Now help me get us the hell out of here.” She felt him linking with her, lending her as much strength as he had to offer to help her shimmer with him.
They materialized just inside the entrance to the sound of pounding feet. There was an entire crew of people running at them with a gurney and she blinked against the bright light of the hall, her vision wavering from the loss of blood. Someone gently pulled her away, putting pressure on her wrist, wrapping it with gauze. “You saved him, now let us finish up.”
Kel watched as they left en masse, their urgent voices echoing down the hall as they disappeared around the corner. She just stood there feeling empty as the tears coursed unchecked down her cheeks. She swiped impotently at them, smearing blood across her face. Damn him!
What the hell was he doing there? Why had he gone alone instead of waiting for her? Shimmering to her desk she stared at the top as if she could find the answer there. She could never find anything there. Pain and anger flooded into the emptiness inside her. How had she ever thought she’d been living a full life before she met Gabe? She hadn’t had anything. Nothing
.
Kel swiped her arms over her desk and everything crashed to the floor. She looked down at the mess on the floor, her chest heaving. That’s how she felt now. Nothing made sense. Ignoring the stares of the other agents her gaze shot to the desk Gabe had been using the last few days across from hers. It was immaculate.
Except for one white piece of folded paper.
With a frown she reached across and picked it up. The blood from her fingers smeared across the white surface. She read it and reread it.
Gabe had been set up.
“Agent Sheridan.”
Kel spun and fixed her burning eyes on the pair standing behind her. Kye Forestor was standing next to a tall man with long, dark blond hair pulled carefully back at the nape of his neck. Gray brushed through the hair at his temples and in his tightly trimmed goatee. It was the eyes she recognized. He had the same hard green eyes.
“Agent Sheridan, I trust there is a reason for your appearance.”
“My son.” The man’s voice was hard, his nostrils flared as the scent of blood filled them. Gabe’s blood covered her.
Kel looked down at the blade that she still held in her hand, at the stark white bandage around her wrist. The blade was stained with the blood of the man she’d killed, the gleaming metal warm in her fist. Transferring it to her other hand she brought it up to her chest and advanced slowly on the older version of Gabe.
“Agent Sheridan, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Kel ignored her boss as she made a half circle around the man. So this was the House doyen, the man who had ordered her entire life wiped away. This was the man who’d carelessly sentenced her to years of being beaten and raped. He didn’t look like the monster she’d imagined. He looked like Gabe or at least what he would look like in about fifty years.
“What have you done with my son?”
“What have I done?” Kel’s laugh had a hysterical quality, and she snapped her mouth shut to stop the eerie sound. She leaned her hip against the edge of her now bare desk, papers and books lying at her feet. She still clutched Gabe’s blade in her fist, and she ran her finger caressingly over the edge. “What have I done, Doyen Ferrar?” Kel repeated with disdain. “I would think the better question would be, what have you done?” she shot back, her tone cracking over him and he gave a slight jerk. Forestor was going to have her job for how she was treating a Sanguen dignitary, but she didn’t care. “Besides protect a man who preys on little girls and threatens your son’s life, that is.”
The man stiffened. “There is protocol. Rules to –”
Kel’s laugh whipped out at him. “Rules? Protocol? All bullshit.” She sliced her bloody hand through the air. “Your son nearly died. Could still die.” Her mouth snapped shut as the pain roiled up over her. Her fist clenched around the hilt of the gleaming blade. Gabe’s blade. It was like a lifeline for her, a connection to him. Fury came rushing on its heels, the heat of it melting the ice that had congealed in her stomach from the fear of losing Gabe.
“Thousands of years of tradition cannot be thrown away. Not even for my son.”
She was feeling a little volatile from the loss of the blood she’d given Gabe and the onslaught of emotions that were swamping her in turns. Her head spun with the pain and fury. Sanguen tradition had ruined her life and now it threatened the man she was pretty sure she loved. Enough was enough.
The last thing she saw was her boss’s wince and the shocked expression of the Ferrar House doyen as her fist made contact with his face.
Chapter Fourteen
Gabe came awake with a rush, coming to a sitting position to pull the wires from his body. Where was Kel? The last thing he remembered was the dark rush of her terror and sorrow pouring into him, overwhelming him and breaking the weak grip he’d been struggling to maintain on consciousness.
“Feeling better, I see.”
Irritated, his eyes searched the room and fell on the tall man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. One of his eyes was swollen shut.
“Father? What are you doing here? Where’s Kel?”
“I can only presume ‘Kel’ is that irate crossbreed.”
Gabe narrowed his eyes on his father “Where did she go?”
“She departed as soon as we were told you would live. A strange woman,” his father said dryly as he pushed away from the wall.
Gabe frowned at him as he approached the bed. He really felt little pain. Lifting the cotton gown he looked down at the expanse of his chest and stomach. There were several bandages. Randomly choosing one he peeled back a corner and raised a brow. There was a raised pink scar. He was healing very quickly. He frowned and glanced up at the unit of blood hanging from the IV pole. The name printed across it wasn’t difficult to read.
“Hell.” She was giving him her own supply of blood.
“Yes, she was quite insistent that you only receive her blood. Made a rather robust argument of it.”
Robust argument? Gabe almost smiled. That was one way to describe some of Kel’s reactions.
“I first thought I smelled your blood on her because so much of it was, but I think there is another reason.”
Gabe glanced at his father, the humor receding. “She is mine.”
Liam paced away, hands on his lean hips. “She is a crossbreed, Gabrial.”
“Yes, I noticed.” Gabe did not regret his mate. Although had he been given the choice he may not have chosen her, he was glad the decision was taken from his hands. Kel was perfect for him. She was just perfect.
Liam sighed and turned to face him. “Insolence, Gabrial? You give me insolence? This is no matter to be treated lightly. I can assume the bond was spontaneous?”
“Yes. The night I followed Karl into the city.”
“She was the woman Karl attacked,” Liam guessed. “You most likely initiated the blood exchange then.” He gave a humorless smile at Gabe’s surprise. “The threat to her by another male would have strengthened the drive to bond, especially if you scented her blood. You have obviously bled her. Any side effects?”
“There has been no dementia. No.” He was being overtly vague and his father’s eyes narrowed on him. How much of his reaction to Kel’s blood should he share with his father? His father was the doyen of his House and would feel obligated to forward the information he was given to the House elders.
“That does not sufficiently answer my question.”
“There have been…changes,” Gabe admitted with a sigh. He would not be able to hide the changes Kel’s blood had wrought in him and he hoped to return to his House eventually. They would find out sooner or later. How was he to explain this to his father? He could barely understand what was happening. “My blood has changed. There is a scientist here who is trying to determine exactly what has happened. It will take time to know for sure but she is fairly certain the changes are permanent.”
Liam’s eyes hardened. “You have bonded without the elders’ consent. And to a crossbreed.” There was a wealth of loathing in the word and Gabe found the darkness in him rising. “Now her blood is changing you. This will have to be placed before the elders.” Liam paced away again, kneading the back of his neck with one hand.
“My bond with Kel is not open to the elders’ approval, Father. The bond is permanent.”
“Gabrial, you are my son and I love you, but the traditions are there to keep order. If the House marshal and future doyen cannot respect that, how can we expect any other member of the House to adhere to them?” His long fingers gingerly touched his swelling eye. “Your bloodmate does not agree, but she was not raised in our House nor does she understand our culture.”
That darkness of the beast that had developed along with the bond to his bloodmate rose and seethed restlessly. This was his father and his doyen, but Kel was his mate. His natural inclination was to defend his mate. Even against his father. “She is well aware of our culture but you are correct in that she doesn’t understand. I’m not sure I disagree with
her.” When his father spun to deliver a hard look he held up a hand. “Our traditions, our laws, have caused harm, Father. Our preoccupation with the purity of our blood, our race, has weakened us. The elders even choose our mates for us, a process that may be best left to natural selection.”
“Gabrial, you know it is necessary to strengthen our line. This is the reason why those with the disease are forbidden to have children. It is for the good of our House.”
“I believe that the intentions of the elders are good but they only hurt our House. They interfere in matters beyond their wisdom. Do you know, Father, that no other blood besides my mate’s can provide sustenance? My body rejects all others.” And the blooding had become synonymous with lovemaking, but he could not reveal such a thing to his father.
He knew his father regularly bled other females. Was that because his mother was not truly his father’s mate? Did the elders harm their race with their interfering?
Liam paced back toward him. “It is not natural. The blooding of many females is natural and healthy.”
“But what if it isn’t? What if we are meant to blood only one female, that female that perfectly complements us?” Perhaps by allowing the elders to mate their people they were circumventing evolution. Evolution was necessary for the strength of any species.
“Damn it, Gabrial, the taking of impure blood will weaken you.”
“Weaken?” Gabe’s laugh was dry. He stood and pulled his hospital gown up to reveal the bandages. Peeling them away, he showed his father the healed wounds. “Strength. Her blood has done nothing but strengthen my every weakness. Since our blood bond I can tolerate the sun.” He said no more than that. The complete truth might be a threat that needed careful consideration before becoming common knowledge.
Liam stared at the puckered scars, his brows lowered. Normally such healing would have taken weeks. “How can this be so? It is unnatural. We have always only bled our own people and we have sustained for thousands of years. Something of this magnitude must be put before the elders.”