by Laken Cane
Because she was surely dying.
“Fuck,” she screamed, and heard a tinny voice yelling at her through the phone. She dropped the cell as the blisters spread to her chest and her top caught on fire.
She ran to the shower and it took seconds for the water to destroy the flames. But the water wouldn’t save her.
She ripped loose the remaining threads of her top and watched in helpless horror as the blisters popped up and burst across her chest. Watched as long fingers of black spread in an unwavering pool to the outside edge of her stake wound.
And then…
Everything stopped.
The blackness receded, sliding back down her arm a hell of a lot faster than it’d climbed it, and the blisters began to fade.
The stake wound.
Nicolas Llodra, by staking her, had somehow saved her.
She turned off the water and climbed out of the shower. Walking to her bed, she stared with a healthy dose of respect and a shitload of fear at the tiny, innocuous looking fang.
“What the fuck is that?”
It was a vampire killer, that’s what it was.
Someone began beating at her door and without waiting for her to answer, started kicking it in.
“Hang on,” she yelled, and strode toward the door before it was completely destroyed. She yanked it open, then stared in confusion.
“Owen?”
He pushed past her, a gun in one hand and shiv in the other. “You’re okay? What the fuck is going on?”
“Oh hell. I called you, didn’t I?”
He lowered the gun and slid the silver back into its sheath. “You were screaming.” He swallowed, and visibly tried to regain his usual control. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story. But I’m okay now.”
His stare probed her face, her eyes, and finally, when he believed she was truly okay, he dropped his stare to her breasts.
She glanced down, realizing she was without her shirt but too amazed by the healthy pink glow of her skin to care. The scar where she’d been staked had faded, but she didn’t think it’d ever go completely away.
Owen wasn’t interested in the scar.
She pointed to the fang. “Amy sent me a gift. When I touched it…” She shook her head. “It attacked me. It was like holding the sun. I started blistering. My clothes lit on fire. I was dying.”
He put his gun away. “There are no marks.”
“No. As if it never happened.” She looked up at him. “Get that thing off the bed for me. There’s an envelope there to put it in.”
He picked it up, holding it between his fingers, studying it. “A wolf’s fang.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He slid the tooth into the envelope and tossed it onto the dresser. She felt better with it hidden once more from her sight.
Owen walked closer, until he stood only a few inches from her. “You called me.”
She wanted to tell him she’d only redialed, but as she opened her mouth, he slid his palm over her breast.
She forgot what she’d been about to say. She stood there beneath his caress, unable to simply turn and walk away.
She swallowed, then reached up to grab his wrist.
He stopped moving his fingers, waiting.
Strad had messed her up when she’d caught him in bed with Tina, and though he had no real claims on her, she didn’t want to do the same to him. Didn’t want to.
“Fuck,” she said. She rammed her palms into Owen’s chest, sending him flying backward and onto the bed.
She couldn’t bite him. Could not addict him the way she’d addicted Strad and Lex. But she could do other things.
She could.
He rose up on his elbows, smiling slightly. “Do you want to know what he said?”
“Who?” She snatched a shirt from a half-opened suitcase, turning her back on him as she pulled it on.
“Strad Matheson. Do you want to know what he told me?”
Yeah. She wanted to know. “No.”
She heard a noise behind her and whirled around, reflexively dropping her fangs.
The berserker stood in the doorway.
He didn't move, didn’t even twitch, and she wondered how he could possibly contain so much rage. How he could keep that swirling, black mass inside without exploding.
He glanced at her, but then his stare, full of death, went to Owen.
She shuddered, watching him. Strad Matheson used to scare you. He still should.
The berserker had put a claim on her.
She'd addicted him, and she'd fucked him.
And now, he'd put a claim on her.
She looked from the berserker to the cowboy. The room was completely silent as the two men stared at each other.
Owen slid off the bed, his fingers resting near his shivs.
Her need was strong. Lust beat at her brain, tightened her belly, made her want to throw off her clothes and demand they both satisfy her.
Lust and fear and promise.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. In and out, slowly, deeply…
And finally she regained control. “I can’t take another loss,” she said, and looked at the berserker. Don’t kill him, Strad.
She knew he read what was in her eyes, because he stared at her for a moment longer, then gave a terse nod.
“Go away,” she whispered, and turned her back on both of them.
They didn’t argue.
She heard the door close with a gentle click, and when she turned around, they were gone.
But she knew without a single doubt that before the night was over, one of them was coming back.
She just wasn’t sure which one it’d be.
She looked at the envelope holding the fang and scooped her cell out of the floor. Ellis answered on the second ring.
“Ellie,” she said, “I have a present for you.”
About Laken Cane
Laken Cane is the pseudonym of a published paranormal romance author currently living in the Midwest. Shiv Crew is her debut book under this pseudonym and the first in the Rune Alexander series. You can learn more about her and join her mailing list at www.lakencane.com, follow her on Twitter @lakencane, or friend her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/laken.cane.3
Books in the Rune Alexander series—
Shiv Crew, book one
Blood and Bite, book two
Strange Trouble, book three
Book four—a work in progress
From the author—
Authors need reviews like vampires need blood! If you’ve enjoyed this book, would you consider rating it and reviewing it on Amazon.com?
Thank you!