by Martha Woods
As the girl’s eyes close, the vampires sink their teeth into her veins. She moans, the thrall taking over for any initial fear or trepidation. She will forget that she was suicidal. She’ll only know ecstasy, war, sex, release. As the vampires pull the blood from her veins, her heart slows. Her body, so taut with desire, goes limp.
“Her blood had so much liquor in it,” Ivanka says with an uncharacteristic giggle. “I may be intoxicated.”
“Lovely,” Mika says, pushing the girl’s body to the bed. “I wish we could have kept her as a pet.”
My vision returns, and though my head aches like I’ve been hit in the head with a hammer, I’m able to stand. On shaky legs and with an unhappy stomach, I make myself move forward, following the hallway until I find the bedroom, where Ivanka and Mika are naked on the bed, with the dead girl on the floor next to them.
Chapter 16
“Amy!” Ivanka says cheerfully. She looks half-drunk and I suppose she is, since she just drank the blood of someone very intoxicated.
“You two disgust me,” I say, my teeth gritted. “Why did you kill this girl?”
“She wanted to be dead,” Mika says. “We helped her.”
“You did not help her,” I say. “You should have left her alone. And you used my power to find a victim, didn’t you?”
“Of course, we did,” Mika says with an epic eye roll that seems incredibly and oddly human in the moment. “You want us to help you, you help us. We were hungry. And we took the life of someone who was done living.”
“We may have made a deal, but I have gotten nothing from any of you so far, other than a weird vision and a headache. This deal is off. I’m not doing this anymore.”
I turn to leave but Mika is there instantaneously. She blocks the door.
“You’re not walking away,” Mika says. “A deal is a deal.”
“Fuck you,” I say, trying to push my way past her.
She’s strong, though. I am strong, but I am human. Mika’s strength is tenfold to mine, and she’s also blood-drunk and angry and, as usual, aroused. She grabs my shoulders and barely shoves, but I lose my footing. I fall backward, into Ivanka’s arms. She holds my arms behind my back and though I try to fight her off, it is like being held by iron.
Mika, from who knows where, procures rope that she uses to tie to the bed. Ivanka moves me placing my limbs just so as Mika ties me up, splayed wide on the bed.
I know it’s serious when Mika and Ivanka avoid their usual monologues. They work efficiently, ripping the glittery shirt from my body, baring my breasts to them.
Mika is first, her teeth grazing along the skin above my breast, her tongue flicking against my nipple.
“Let me go,” I grunt as I struggle away from her attentions. “I don’t want this.”
“Rules of humans don’t apply,” Mika says. “We play by our own rules. We drink what we want, fuck who we want. Tonight, we’ll have you.”
Ivanka sinks her teeth into the sensitive skin at my side. The pleasure of it pushes my hips up off the bed, even as I bare my teeth like an animal, growling at her to stop.
Mika’s teeth settle into my breast, her fingers flirting with the waistband of my jeans, finding their way beneath the fabric, into my folds. I hate that I’m wet. This is how it goes. When a vampire feeds, a human’s body is hyper-aroused so that he or she doesn’t feel pain or fear. It is a reaction designed to allow vampires to have pleasurable feeding experiences. In my head, I know this. I am still lucid, still able to think rationally, even though my body succumbs easily to the arousal.
Suddenly, just as I am about to climax, I see Vincent. He pulls Mika away, tossing her to the side like a rag doll. Ivanka backs away on her own, her smile stained with my blood.
“Come to join us at the buffet?” Ivanka asks. “You can’t have her all to yourself, you know.”
“She is not yours,” he says. “She is mine, and you know it. I could kill you for this.”
“I did not scent you on her,” Ivanka says.
“You are lying,” he says.
“Perhaps you are not bedding her frequently enough?” Ivanka taunts. “Perhaps she does not please you. I could please you. We can feast on her together and fuck until moments before sunrise.”
“She. Is. Mine.” Vincent says. “We have the permanent bond.”
“Lies!” Mika yells. “We would know if that were the case.”
“She is drained and nearly lifeless,” Vincent says. “The bond is what pulled me here.”
Ivanka and Mika exchange a glance. Ivanka says, “We cannot risk harming another vampire’s bonded mate.”
“He is lying. He always lies,” Mika says. She turns to Vincent. “Why do you do this? Why do you antagonize your brethren? Why do you fight for humans? They will die so soon. Why love them this way?”
My breath catches at the word “love,” but I know she cannot mean it the way a human would. She doesn’t mean that he loves me, only that he is enamored with me and my human qualities.
Vincent does not bother with an answer. He simply picks me up, holding me to his chest as he walks out of the room.
He pulls off his jacket once we reach his red convertible, slipping it around my shoulders, as I am now completely naked from the waist up. He settles me into the passenger seat and then makes his way to the driver’s side. We drive in silence for a long time.
“I can’t get her out of my head,” I say after a long while. “The girl they killed. They acted like I was doing a party trick, reading auras. I didn’t even say she was depressed or suicidal. But I went to her, wanted to check on her. I should have…I focused on the actor and I should have gotten the girl the help she needed.”
“They will use you for whatever end amuses them,” Vincent says. “Forever.”
I look out the window as he speeds down the highway.
“We have to complete the bond, Amy,” he says. “There is no other way to keep you safe from them. Not now that I have said we were already bonded.”
I think about this and my mind goes to my conversation with Tristian. Damon is gone. He is halfway across the world. He is not coming back. I have struggled with this idea of being bonded to Vincent mainly because I had hoped Damon would return, but I know that I am wasting my hope. And even if he did, could he even forgive me, how would he feel to know I have again been intimate with Vincent, a vampire, a creature he was born to hate.
And could we ever have a normal life together. Not just because of the supernatural, but also because of me, Because I am not a good partner. Heck, I don’t even really think monogamy is possible in the long-term. Because I don’t really want two kids and a picket fence and a dog. Well, maybe a dog…
I do love him. Damon, that is; not the dog. I mean, I loved my dog, too. Anyway… I know that emotion is real, at least with him. My feelings for Vincent, though – are they love? I don’t know. I felt it when I chose to give my life to save his. I feel it still, sometimes, but it’s complicated. It’s sexual and intense and chemical and irrational and sometimes violent. There is a connection between us, but I cannot name it. Nor am I sure he could ever return it.
It is time, yes, to let Damon go. At least, with Vincent, there will not be any unrealistic expectation of monogamy. And I will be protected from the coven, and other vampires who might want to hurt or use me for their own pleasure.
“Yes,” I say.
“Yes?” he asks as he pulls in front of my apartment building.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do the bond.”
We walk up to the apartment. He doesn’t say anything, just walks into the kitchen. He studies my crazy-town wall of evidence and thoughts and white boards. He studies everything, finally turning to look at me.
“You have been busy,” he says.
“I, uh…” I look at everything and cringe. “It’s how I think, sometimes? I just need to write everything out, see it all together. And I’m supposed to be on a leave of absence, but I can’t just stop working on
the case, so…”
Suddenly, he’s there. His arms are around me. His lips are on mine.
“This bond,” he says between kisses that I feel to my toes. “It’s permanent. It’s forever.”
“I know,” I say, breathless.
“I do not give the offer to just anyone, Amy.”
“I know,” I say again, a little dumbstruck by the kissing.
“And if, someday, you allow me to bring you to immortality,” he says, kissing along my jawline, “then we will live as a bonded pair. This is forever.”
“I trust you,” is all I can think to say.
He’s gone and back before I can blink. He holds a small knife in his hands. With it, he cuts a cross into his palm and places it on the bare skin of my chest.
“Hoc vinculum gratias gratis,” he says. “I give this bond freely.”
He cuts my hand and places it on his chest. I repeat the words. My magic responds, as a warmth spreads from my chest to my shoulders, up my neck, down into my core. A small tattoo forms on my right ring finger, or more like a scar. The same thing appears on Vincent’s finger, as well.
“That’s it?” I ask as I examine the tiny, intricate marking on my finger. “Just one line?”
“Our blood and words merge,” he says. “It is the intent that makes the bond. And the consummation.”
At the word “consummation,” I look up sharply. Vincent’s eyes are black with hunger, his fangs already extended.
There is no space between us, then. My bare breasts are taut against his hard chest. My hands are on his biceps. Our mouths are hot as we fuse together, two becoming one.
He picks me up, carrying me to the bedroom. I can’t get my pants off fast enough. There is no foreplay, no slow buildup. He is inside me as soon as we are both naked, his teeth in my neck as he draws blood from my body.
The bond is so strong. I have always felt connected to Vincent, but this is different. It is like I can feel every molecule in his body, every elecgtric jolt of pleasure, and pain, and anger, and desire. It’s another dimension, and I get lost in it.
I get lost.
Chapter 17
When I wake up, it is well into the next morning. The sun shines brightly through my bedroom window and I know Vincent will have been long gone, though I can feel him in my head even as I blink blurrily, trying to gather my wits after a night of mind-numbing passion.
I stretch my fingers out, taking in the mark that bonds me to Vincent. And just as I look past my fingertips, I see him.
Damon.
He has lost weight. He is heavily bearded, dirty, and one arm is in a cast. There are dark bruises on his cheek.
“Amy,” he says.
“Damon?” I ask. I sit up, fully awake now. “What? I thought you were overseas? Tristian told me you were overseas.”
“I never left LA, Amy,” he says. “I’ve been buried in creature battles. War is coming. The supernatural world is about to explode into the human world. And I’ve been in a lot of fights, but a lot more conversations. And I’m just not sure I’ve been – we, Hunters – have been fighting the right creatures. I don’t really know what’s going on, but I think I need to hear what you know. I think we need to talk about what happened, and why.”
“I’m not sure where to begin,” I say.
“At the beginning,” he says. “Start at the beginning.”
“Since you left,” I start. “I have been trying – mostly failing – to stop more murders. I have seen two of this warlock’s acolytes kill themselves, rather than spill his secrets, or even his name. I have been outcast from my workplace. But I have a name, now. I know the plan. And I just need to figure out how to stop him for good.”
I explain everything, about Matthew Quick, his plan, and the way his spell works. I talk about the work I have done to try to stop the murders. Everything I know, Damon now knows, and it feels good to share the things I could not share with Rick or others on the investigation team.
Finally, as I finish my story, I ask, “What has happened to you?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I was so angry after what I’d done to you, Amy. I was angry at myself. I was angry at the world. I threw myself into fighting, killing. I think I hoped I’d be killed myself. I hardly ate, hardly slept. And the whole time, every minute, I kept thinking of you. Of how I feel about you.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out, no sound, no words.
“We should just pack up and leave, Amy,” he says. “We can disappear, get away from all of this. Get a place on a beach somewhere. Live simply. Have a life together. Let’s just go. This isn’t our battle.”
“We can’t,” I say.
“We can,” he says. “We can. Who’s stopping us?”
“I can’t leave while women are dying,” I say. “I have to stop this guy. I have to try to stop this war.”
“You are one woman, Amy,” he says. “You can’t stop a war. Just come with me.”
“Damon, you know me. You know I can’t just walk away. And it is my battle. Someone like me, someone with magic, is trying to commit genocide. I can’t just walk away from that and feel okay with myself.”
He sighs. “I love you, Amy. I never stopped. I never will. I tried everything to get you out of my head but I couldn’t. So, I’m here to ask you to have me, to forgive me, to leave with me. Please.”
“I wish I could, Damon,” I say.
“You can,” he says, his voice sounding a bit desperate. “You can. What’s stopping you apart from your sense of duty to a race of beings you didn’t know existed a year ago?”
“I didn’t know you a year ago, either,” I say.
“But you know me now,” he says.
I nod. I can barely look at him. I bite my lip before saying, “There’s another reason. Something we need to talk about.”
I tell him about the coven, about the way Joseph collects human pets like a little cabinet full of weirdos. I tell him about my requests for help with my abilities, about their games. I tell him, with a guilty heart, about the aura game and the young woman’s death.
“That’s not your fault,” he says. “Those bloodsuckers used you.”
“They did,” I agree. “So, you’ll understand that I had to do something to protect myself.”
He looks confused. Then his eyes settle on the marking that circles my finger. His eyes narrow, then move to my face, suspicious.
“Damon…Vincent and I are…” I swallow my nerves. “We are bonded.”
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THE ALPHA’S RETURN
Book 1 of the Werewolves of Boulder Junction
Martha Woods
© 2017 Martha Woods
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Chapter 1
The darkness was his friend, keeping him hidden from sight as he sprinted through the woods. Gigantic paws hit the ground with thuds, muffled by the soil. The wind brushed against his thick, gray fur. He felt free. This was the only time he felt this way, running in t
he night in his wolf form. At times like this, he could temporarily forget about his responsibilities and simply be a part of nature; a part of the night. Smaller animals scurried to their hiding places, avoiding the huge predator zipping through the forest.
The wolf inhaled long and deep as it ran. Liam smiled within as the fresh air filled his lungs. This was what he had missed about Boulder Junction: the acres of forest, the freedom to run wild, and the fresh air. Other than that, he wouldn’t mind never seeing the place again. It was where he had grown up and the place that he had finally escaped when he was old enough. Family duty had forced him to return and it seemed there was no escape this time.
Liam came to a stop in front of a river. He stood still for a few minutes, resting on his haunches as he stared out across the dark water. He always enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest at night. The only sounds audible were the sounds of nature. His ears perked up when he heard something that didn’t quite fit in with the natural sounds. Footsteps, hushed by dirt and leaves, approached him. The feeling of danger coursed through him, sending him on high alert. More than likely, it wasn’t someone merely out for a night stroll. Not at midnight and certainly not in these woods. He sniffed the air, catching a whiff of an unfamiliar scent.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he got up and padded back into the safety of the bushes. He didn’t want any trouble and he really didn’t want to kill anyone so soon after arriving back home. Liam let out a sigh. So much for a peaceful night run, he thought.
He treaded lightly, careful not to make a sound. All he had to do was make it back home undetected. Stealthily, he moved through the woods, listening for any sign of his unwanted companion. There was silence. Had the person turned back? With any luck, whoever it was had taken caution and turned back. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of danger. His sense radar was always on point. But it was just a human, right?