Blood Judgment (Judgment Series)

by Nickie Asher

  TWO HOURS later, Julian and Saranna stood facing one another in the living room of her apartment. She had changed into a blue satin dress. He wore his best dress clothes.

  Slade took his place beside Ashton and scowled at Julian.

  Ashton handed each of them a small card. “Julian goes first. Read the card to her, then she responds. Once you exchange your promises, she drinks the ceremonial tea, then you cut your wrist and feed her.” He handed Julian a small knife. “After she feeds, you are expected to mate immediately to complete the ceremony. After coupling, the process is finished and you are legally bound together. And no one can change it.”

  Saranna looked like she was trying hard not to cry.

  Julian’s hand clenched around the little knife so hard his fingers hurt. He should stop this fiasco before it went any further. She didn’t want him as a legal mate and he didn’t want it any more than she did. The entire thing was wrong.

  “Julian?” She reached for his hand.

  Oh Jesus. He was about to make a big mistake. But instead of backing out, he looked at Ashton’s elegant writing on the card and read out loud, “I take thee, oh beloved, for my mate and partner. I forsake all for you. I promise my love, my heart, my life for you.” Julian swallowed. “I promise to protect you and any offspring you bear through our union. I promise to honor you and never betray you.” He was sunk. His heart beat his ribs in a too fast tempo.

  She hesitated, then read her vows in a shaking voice, “I take thee, oh beloved, for my mate and protector. I promise … to … to obey … and … and submit to you.” A single tear ran down her cheek.

  Julian’s guts clenched, then churned.

  She continued. “I promise to care for and protect any offspring from our union. I promise to honor you and never betray you.”

  She paused and looked up at Julian with glossy eyes.

  Ashton passed a goblet of dark liquid to Saranna. “You must drink all of it.”

  She raised the glass with a shaking hand and drank it down.

  Ashton took the glass. “Now feed her.”

  Julian slid the razor-sharp blade over his wrist. He offered her the bleeding wound.

  She grasped his arm with trembling hands and lowered her head. Her hair fell over her face and his wrist in a golden curtain, hiding her from the others. Her soft lips clamped over the wound and she sucked gently. His cock hardened.

  She released him and lifted her head. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Fuck. Now they’d done it and neither of them wanted it.

  He growled, licked his wrist clean, and scooped her up into his arms. His body answered with pain. Slade had beaten the fuck out of him. Holding her tight against him, he carried her into the bedroom where he kicked the door shut behind them.

  He set her down. “Get ready.”

  The apartment door closed. Ashton and Slade had gone. Hopefully, they’d taken Vali with them, but if not, he’d overheard them mating several times already. What the hell was one more time? Even if it was what amounted to their wedding night.

  He stripped off his coat and began unbuttoning his dress shirt. Blood stained the sleeve. He cursed and yanked the buttons loose.

  Saranna slowly removed her clothes and, looking stricken, stood naked before him.

  Anger burned under his skin though his cock strained at his pants. He made short work of his remaining clothes.

  Unapologetic, he picked her up and laid her on the bed. Without preamble, he climbed on the mattress and slid over her, caging her with his body. He kneed her legs apart. He didn’t bother with foreplay or taking the time to ready her. Julian pushed inside her with one hard thrust. Unprepared to receive him, she cried out at his rough penetration. He didn’t care and he didn’t stop.

  The ceremonial mating was hard and fast. Angry. Punishment for hurting him. He gave her no pleasure and took what was his while trying to ignore the pain in his body. When it was over, he settled beside her and didn’t speak.

  She pulled the blanket over them and turned on her side, away from him. A tiny sound escaped her.

  Was she crying?

  She was.

  A double-edged sword of guilt stabbed him. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t been kind or considerate. He’d wanted to hurt her and he had. He slipped an arm around her and drew her against him.

  She didn’t resist.

  He nuzzled into her hair, breathing in the clean scent. He caressed her stomach, dipped a little lower. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Julian,” she whimpered.

  The pain in her voice broke his heart. He’d treated her awful. Some mate he was. How could be blame her for not wanting him. He had to make it right. He eased his hand between her legs. She shifted her leg for him, though she cringed the tiniest bit.

  He bit his lip, but stroked her until she relaxed and moisture coated his fingers. He was already hard again and when she was ready, he urged her to roll onto her belly. He grasped her hips and positioned her so her backside was elevated.

  He covered her, entering from behind in one easy stroke, plunging deep into her hot sheath. Moaning, she leaned back into him.

  SARANNA AWOKE a little before dawn. Julian slept beside her. Her mate. Oh God. Now they were a legal pair. It was unfair to him. And her.

  She had no right to be angry over the initial mating when he’d, more or less, been forced to take her. He cared about her. Cared a lot. But he didn’t want a mate and he didn’t love her. She wasn’t a fool. Or maybe she was because what she wanted more than anything was for him to hold her and keep her safe.

  What she didn’t want was him treating her like property, but he’d taken her as part of the ceremony and now she was his property. He had every right to make demands of her or do anything to her. She didn’t want anyone bossing her around or trying to restrict her. She didn’t need that.

  He’s not like that.

  Wasn’t he? A male was a male. Hadn’t he proven it already? Out of anger, he’d taken her without gentleness or consideration. Sooner or later, they would cross paths over something and now she had no recourse. She was his in every sense of the word. Her chest hurt with love. And resentment.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  JULIAN YANKED open the zippers on his violin case. Slade was determined to cause trouble and so far he was doing an ace job of it. The bastard.

  Jesus, he’d made a fucking mess of everything with Saranna. His mate. Beautiful Saranna who didn’t want him. At least, not legally. Not permanently.

  Her interest in him had been nothing beyond a blood-fuck partner. Exactly what he’d wanted. So knowing the truth of where he stood with her shouldn’t hurt so badly. But it did.

  Regardless, he was determined to take care of her and be a worthy mate. And he still had a lot of making up for the mating incident.

  After tightening the bow hair, he lifted the violin from its velvet-lined case. Three blocks away, Benaroya Hall gleamed like a sparkling jewel.

  God, he should be setting up to play there instead of on a damp street corner, though it was better than nothing. Earning a little money to put in the till beat mooching. Except, he belonged in Benaroya. In the concertmaster’s chair. And even that would have been temporary. He would have become a solo artist before long. Well, he was playing solo now, wasn’t he?

  He positioned the open case to collect the coins and dollar bills passersby would toss his way like scraps to a stray dog. To prompt his listeners, he dropped in some loose change and a few bills to make it clear he was playing in the hopes of a handout.

  His stomach knotted as he tucked the delicate instrument under his jaw and drew the bow over the strings.

  He played crowd pleasers, folk songs and popular tunes, the kind of music the average person liked. Head tilted down as much as possible, his hair hung in his face and provided a barrier between him and anyone who might look too closely.

  He avoided the direction of Benaroya. It hurt too much. A fist of longing wrapped around him and squeezed until h
e couldn’t breathe. He’d played the music of his heart and soul there. And that’s where he wanted to be. Just for a little while.

  Was it so wrong to want what he’d lost? To want what he’d been? To have the life stolen from him in a filthy alley?

  He finished a fiddle tune and unable to bear another, fell into Saint-Saens’ Introduction and Rondo. The familiar notes of his favorite piece flowed through his entire body. Eyes closed, he played for himself and physical pain stabbed him. His fingers tightened on the violin neck and bow until he forced himself to relax his hold.

  Wasn’t he over the self-pity yet?

  There it was, fresh and ugly, a nasty secret that refused to stay buried. Black poison burned through him for the creature he was, everything he’d lost, and his pathetic desire to have his old life back.

  What had his life become? The thought was bitter and biting, only to be replaced by other raw thoughts like little rat teeth on his soul. His life sucked. That was the short of it. Might as well be true to himself since he couldn’t with anyone else.

  He hated himself for wanting the past. He had Saranna and new friends and a mission which was more important than being a violinist. And yet, he wanted.

  He finished the piece and his eyes snapped open. A lovely red-haired woman was staring at him.

  Amazement played across her features. “You’re Julian Wilkes. Aren’t you?”

  Her accusation slashed through him. That Julian was long dead. He glanced down, hiding behind his mane of hair and shook his head.

  “Yes you are. I’d know you anywhere.”

  Did he know this woman? He lifted his head.

  “What happened? What in the world are you doing playing on the streets?”

  Her expression was concerned, not condemning. He surreptitiously checked his hand. Saranna’s makeup still obscured the brands. He met her eyes, now trying to keep the woman’s attention on his face. It had worked with other people. As long as no one looked too closely, they wouldn’t know what he was. No one would give money to a vampire no matter how beautifully he played.

  He tucked the violin under his arm. “It’s a long story. One you wouldn’t be interested in hearing.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sorry you’re no longer with the Symphony. I loved hearing you play.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered. She needed to go away.

  She frowned, bent, and dropped a bill in the violin case. “It was nice listening to you.” She walked away.

  He looked in the case. She’d given him a fifty dollar bill. Damn it, this was so wrong. Here he was begging for handouts from people who wouldn’t spare him a second or a single penny if they knew he wasn’t like them. His guts twisted. He’d been good. More than good. And now what?

  Now he lived in the moment because maybe there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. To paraphrase the woman, how had he ended up like this?

  He sank his hand into his hair and his fingers curled into a fist, pulling the long strands. He didn’t want the life of a warrior. He wanted to be a star. And was he so horrible for admitting the truth, at least to himself?

  SARANNA HURRIED toward home after a long shift at Dangles. Would Julian be there? Or would he be with Ashton and Slade? She shuddered at all of the possibilities for violence between him and Slade. Her feelings were so torn between the two males and the position she was in that she ached with a misery she couldn’t have imagined.

  Being mated to the male she loved shouldn’t hurt. But how could it be any other way when they weren’t mated because he’d wanted it?

  No male had ever wanted to be her life partner. Why would someone like Julian want to be tied to her in a committed, life-long relationship? He had talent and skills that would have taken him to stardom. She had nothing to offer.

  She was a glorified waitress and at the mercy of humans to keep even that job. Her eyes burned. She blinked hard and drove her nails into her palms. She would not cry. Tears were for the weak and the weak didn’t survive.

  “Saranna?”

  A thin female waved at her. Saranna didn’t recognize her.

  “Don’t know me, do you?” An impish grin sprang up on her petite features.

  “I’m sorry. Where do I know you from?”

  “Six months ago, you found a dirty little waif in an alley and took her to a kindly pastor.”

  Saranna gaped. “Oh my God. Kyndra?”

  The female nodded and wrapped Saranna into a fierce hug. She released Saranna and stepped back. “Pastor Cadell got me on my feet. Helped me find a job even. I’m housekeeping at a hotel. It isn’t glamorous, but they’re kind to me and it’s a steady income. I can’t ever thank you enough. I’d be a whore or dead by now if it hadn’t been for you. You saved me.”

  Saranna took her hands. “I’m so happy for you. Thank you for letting me know.” Saranna hugged the female. Something she’d done had been right. Her efforts were worth it. Kyndra was the proof.

  Maybe she couldn’t save everyone, but she made a difference for some. Maybe that was her only purpose in life. Helping others was better than dwelling on her failures.

  She wiped at her eyes and hugged the young female tighter. “Thank you for opening my eyes.”

  CHRISTOPHER STALKED the streets with purpose.

  To his astonishment, he’d wasted an hour while his son played on the street like a common beggar. How had he produced such a creature? Julian had no pride, nor shame. To beg for change like a lowbred piece of trash… It was more than Christopher could stomach. He had to leave before the urge to drag Julian into the shadows and tear his throat out overpowered him.

  Hungry and aggressive, he slipped along dark streets.

  He didn’t have a blood partner. While he didn’t mind feeding on his own kind, being fed upon wasn’t something he desired. Not when the streets were teeming with women.

  When the blood hunger demanded appeasement, he only took the blood of humans. It sustained him better. And taking from those who thought vampires were controlled, tamed, gave him immense satisfaction.

  He walked dozens of blocks. Searching. Wanting something special. A perfect victim. And soon enough, he found her.

  A young woman with white-blond hair and scarlet painted lips sashayed toward him. Her tight blue dress molded to her abundant attributes. She wiggled her hips in an appealing manner as she approached.

  Christopher stepped to the curb, pretending to look for a cab. He checked his watch as though he had someplace to be and not much time to get there. The woman passed behind him and her spice-laden perfume assailed his senses.

  He followed her.

  He paid scant attention to other humans and the occasional vampire he passed. His focus remained on the woman. Her fragrance filled his senses and he imagined the things he would soon do to her.

  Some sixth sense must have warned her because she looked back. Her eyes widened in recognition.

  He gave her an intentional smile which exposed the tips of his fangs.

  Her head swiveled back around and she picked up speed, trying to put distance between them. He let her move ahead a bit to give her a false sense of security.

  Was she heading for the Chandler Building? They were less than a block away and it was the best of the residential buildings.

  Making a calculated guess, Christopher cut into an alley and wall-climbed to the roof of the building on his left. He sprinted to the opposite edge and launched himself into the air. He landed on the roof of the next building.

  He crossed a dozen buildings in moments and scuttled back down the wall to the street below. He slipped along beside the wall and waited at the mouth of the alley for the woman to draw even with him.

  He scanned the street. A few people walked about, but for the most part, it was deserted. The click of high heels gave her away. His body tightened.

  She reached the corner of the building and he lunged, trapping her in his embrace.

  One hand clapped over her mouth, he dragged her into the shadows.

&n
bsp; Chapter Twenty-seven

  BANKS DRUMMED his fingers on the smooth surface of his desk. The papers spread out before him had set him in a black mood.

  So far, the work from the Seattle Security Center was a complete failure. None of the test subjects had responded well. Not that he faulted the Center. All they did was test the shit.

  Blame lay on Bridger and his crew. He slammed his fist onto the desk. For the good of the human race, the formula had to be effective. And soon. They were losing control of the vampires. He knew it better than anyone.

  The Resistance was a real threat. No matter how many of the bastards the officers managed to kill or bring in for execution, it didn’t put a dent in the growing movement.

  The vampires might be down at the moment, but if they wised up and followed the lead of the Resistance, the human population would be in trouble. Though humans were greater in number, the vampires were true predators. Predators who had to be taken seriously.

  Thank God some of his superiors were smart enough to recognize danger before it crawled up and bit them on the ass. Now it was up to the scientists.

  The only way humans would be safe was to exterminate the entire vampire population. And the only way the ignorant civilian human population would stand for it was if they feared for their own lives.

  If everything played out right, the human population would be screaming for the vampires to be eradicated like disease-ridden vermin.

  At least the cull was taking some of the young ones off the streets. He picked up the tally sheet. Statewide, over a thousand young males estimated at twenty years old and under had been dispatched to date. Not enough, but a good start.

  The reduction number wasn’t the only thing going right. He picked up the envelope from Calilla and his lips curled. She’d made a mistake.

  He took out the picture of Alex. A close up. He studied it carefully. Alex resembled him, but not enough to tip off someone who didn’t know he’d sired the son of a whore. No one but Calilla knew that. At least for the time being.