by J. M. Adele
Shiloh tossed the cell on the nightstand and bypassed the stairs with one leap, then yanked the front door open. Carter blew past her in a blur and disappeared into Shiloh’s bedroom. She’d either guessed Devlin was in there, or the detective had followed her nose.
Kicking the door shut, Shiloh bolted after the cop, pausing in the doorway. Carter’s dark head was bent over Devlin as she pressed her wrist to his mouth. He responded to the nourishment with groans and coughs. Each sound chipped away at Shiloh’s nerves, leaving them tattered. She had to do something. If she couldn’t feed him, she could at least help stop the bleeding. Armed with another towel from her bathroom, she moved around Sienna, getting in close to his shoulder. Dumping another soaked towel in the trash, she covered his gunshot wound, pressing down hard. Her face, mere inches from his, afforded her a magnified view of his fangs sunk deep into the detective’s wrist. Oh, God. Jealousy stabbed Shiloh as deep as his bite.
Where the hell did that come from?
She looked away, her eyes moving sideways to find his scarlet stare locked on her, Sienna’s gift, staining his irises. Heavy lids dropped low over his devouring gaze. He pinned her to the spot, not taking his eyes off her, even as she squirmed. She couldn’t help it. Every nerve ending tingled in an erotic symphony under her skin. And he was the conductor. She had no way of knowing, but simultaneously, no doubt he was imagining drinking from her.
Probably while naked.
His nostrils flared before he broke the stare and retracted his bite. Eyes closing, he arched his neck back into the pillow, and released a stuttered sigh.
She trembled with the surge of electricity frying her defenses into an unrecognizable mess. This is so wrong.
After lurching to her feet, she stepped back a few paces and held out her palms. Devlin’s blood encased her hands in sanguine gloves, dripping red strands towards her wrists. With every inhale, his seductive scent worked its way across her taste buds. Smoked chili, chocolate and sin. Her hunger grew, burning in her throat. Saliva pooled in her mouth. Her fangs lengthened. She swallowed, shaking her head. She’d fed that morning. How was this possible? How awful was she to be thinking of tasting his blood when he was fighting for his life?
“Shiloh.”
Her eyes sprang open, body stiffening. Carter stood in front of her, watching through narrowed slits.
Shiloh swallowed again, lowering her hands. “Is he okay?”
“I think he’s going to be. I’ve called in a med team. They’ll take him back to a facility and give him the care he needs.”
She called the paramedics? When? Where are they taking him?
“A . . . human . . . med team?” Wait until they get an eyeful of his fangs.
And how fast he healed. How were they going to explain that to the humans?
“No. We have our own people. I need to go downstairs so I can let them in when they get here. Stay with D.”
“Okay.” Shiloh didn’t hesitate.
Carter shot a glance at Shiloh’s blood-slicked hands. “Maybe you should get cleaned up. When do you expect your father home?”
Shit. Dad. There was blood on the front door. On the floor. In her room . . . “I don’t know. Soon, I guess.”
The shockwaves of all the trauma had her limbs vibrating like a hummingbird’s wings. Seth, Lanie, Devlin . . . it coursed through her body, building to an apex of ‘What the fuck is happening to me?’ until a haze filtered her vision.
Carter frowned. “Hey, pull yourself together.” The detective led Shiloh into the bathroom, tugged her arms until her hands were in the basin, and flicked on the faucet.
Shiloh watched the water gush over her palms, a red whirlpool getting sucked down the drain. Thoughts of cramming in the plug to prevent the loss of the delicacy plagued her sanity. She trapped her tongue between her teeth as her cheeks flushed in shame.
“I’ll tidy up downstairs. You look after Devlin.” The detective dashed off.
Breathe, Shiloh. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose—
His smell. She’d thought nothing was better than the scent of Seth’s blood.
I was wrong.
She fixated on a drop of red halfway up her forearm. Just a little taste . . .
“Don’t.”
“Aargh!” Battered by the echo of his deep voice in the tiled space, she spun around to find him buckled against the doorframe. His face screwed up as he clutched the support with one hand, the arm on his injured side hanging useless by his side.
“What are you doing!? You should be lying down.” She rushed over to take him by the elbow, leading him to sit on the corner of the bath and lean against the tiled wall.
He levered forward, shrugging his good shoulder in an attempt to maneuver out of his coat. “Help me get this off.”
Gripping the lapels, she peeled them back, and pulled the coat down his arms behind him. Her face landed directly in line with his throat, the hiss from his mouth slithering its way down her neck. She assumed the hiss was from pain, but as she took a big step back, his sultry stare suggested otherwise. His eyes were still tinged red from his recent indulgence. Sparks of blue added their flame as his gaze traveled around her features.
God, it’s steamy in here.
She swallowed and blindly searched for the fan switch on the wall beside her. Shiloh wiped a hand across her mouth, forgetting her hands were wet and not completely cleansed of his blood. Nostrils flaring, her jaw levered open as her fangs punched free. Shit.
“Don’t!” he barked.
“Why?” The word came out on a whimper.
“My blood will kill you, too. I can’t have yours and you can’t have mine. You’re bonded to him.”
Seth . . . fuuuuuck! She wanted to scream.
Wait—
“So, I can’t drink? . . . At all?” Shiloh brought back the memory of the woman in that building, right before Seth put a bullet in her brain. She’d been bleeding from the neck. But Devlin had said if Seth drank from another it could weaken the bond. “How come Seth can drink from anyone, but I c—”
“Okay, big guy. Time to go.” Carter jogged in, followed by two people dressed in coveralls rolling a stretcher.
Shiloh growled, unable to hold it in. As soon as the sound released, she hated herself for it. He needed help and she couldn’t be the one to give it. Her questions would have to wait.
“Fuck off, Sienna. I don’t need a goddamn ambulance.” Devlin gritted his teeth as he slumped lower against the wall.
“Shut up and get on the stretcher. There’s no exit wound. You need surgery if you want that bullet out.”
The bullet is still in there.
He jerked forward, sucking in air and cradling his elbow. “I don’t give a fuck about no bullet,” he rasped. “Why ain’t you out there finding that bastard?”
Carter leaned down, putting her face in front of his. “Get on the damn stretcher. I just saved your life. I can un-save it just as easily. And then who’s gonna be her hero, huh?”
His mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed, flames burning the vibrant red into charred remains. Shiloh shivered as an icy chill seemed to roll off his body.
Whose hero? What did Carter mean?
“How many ya got guarding her?” Devlin demanded.
Her? Who?
“Two each shift.”
“Fucking hell, Sienna.” He grimaced and adjusted his shoulder. “Double it.”
“You know that hospital is full of vamps. They’re all on alert.”
Hospital? They must be talking about Lanie. What’s going on?
Shiloh wrapped her arms around her middle, needing someone to hold on to. Her throat cramped at the woeful inadequacy of the embrace. If they were going to deliver bad news about her sister, she wasn’t sure holding herself together was going to be enough.
Devlin’s black eyes flared at the detective before she stumbled back a couple of steps. “Fucking. Double. It.”
Why was he ordering t
he cop around?
Carter planted her feet, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t push me. I’m the one helping you, asshole. Now, are you going to get on this thing yourself, or would you like us to pick you up? Might I remind you that her father could be arriving at any minute.”
“Get them out of here. It’s not safe.”
Jesus. Mom and Dad are in danger? They’d loved Seth.
He’d loved them . . .
It had all been an act. A glossy coat of polish on a pile of bullshit.
It was Shiloh he wanted now. Why had she thought her parents would be safe? Would he stop at nothing to get her?
“Already on it,” Carter replied.
He grunted and shoved to his feet, immediately falling forward. Throwing out his good arm, he slammed his elbow on the stretcher, just catching himself before his knees smashed on the ground. His body bowed, toes pushing off the tiles, one arm holding his weight up. The two paramedics lurched forward to help him, but didn’t even get close before they slid backwards and landed on their asses.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
Shiloh tentatively reached out, wrapping her arms around Devlin’s waist. Maybe he’d reject her like he’d done with the others, but she couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle anymore.
Stubborn ass.
She helped him to his feet, turning him so he could sit on the thin mattress. His hand landed on top of her elbow, energy pulsing through his touch. Her eyes scanned his tight features. Is he angry? Is he going to push me away? Toss me to the floor? Her jaw dropped when he held on, tugging her even closer. She couldn’t escape. Trapped in a cloud of his heady cologne, her body didn’t ever want to leave. Only a tiny part of her was ringing alarm bells. The tiny part called sanity. And it was shrinking by the second. She knew he couldn’t bite her. What is he doing?
Devlin’s gaze tracked his hand as it trailed up her arm, pausing at her shoulder. For an eternity he didn’t move, apart from the deep groove carving its way between his brows. His fingers reached out to tangle in her hair, gripping it tightly. Shiloh’s eyes bugged out, her heart setting off in a gallop.
She should’ve been petrified.
She wasn’t.
Her body swayed towards him. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she watched the muscle in his jaw tick before he let go.
One glimpse of his eyes before he shut them, had her heart tripping over itself and falling in a heap of ‘I should’ve known better.’ The crimson stain had all but disappeared; the few flashes of color fizzled out as black engulfed his irises once again.
Flat. Dark. Cold.
Whatever had caused his lapse in control, it was over.
Shiloh’s gut twisted. Why did she even care? She held her breath to deny his scent. Deny any part of him entry beneath the surface.
After easing his top half down until his head hit the pillow, she lifted his feet to follow. The crazy urge to climb on with him pushed its way into her mind and her muscles. She balled her fists, her lungs burning with the need for air.
Breathing—who needed it, anyway?
Nudging Shiloh out of the way, Sienna stood over Devlin. “You never learn.” She shook her head and strapped him onto his transport. “You can’t do this alone.”
Stony-faced, he glared at the ceiling as they wheeled him out and took all the answers to Shiloh’s questions with him.
Damn it.
Would he be okay?
What was going to happen to her if she couldn’t feed?
And the biggest question of all . . .
What does Seth want with me?
Plan A
Five days. Six nights.
Shiloh paced the floor of her bedroom, like she’d done every night, accompanied by a festering paranoia.
Where have they taken Devlin?
Is he all right?
Have they found Seth?
Why isn’t Carter answering my calls?
Pinching her nose, she begged for a moment’s relief from the searing pain arcing from her nostrils to the back of her throat. The unmistakable aroma of Devlin’s blood still permeated the air. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to wash the coat he’d left behind. It was hanging in her closet, the lining crusted with blood.
Turning on her heel, she marched back the other way, freeing her grip and releasing a pained groan. Picking at the dead skin on her palms, Shiloh grimaced at the bed. After they’d taken Devlin away, she’d scrubbed the quilted fabric until her hands had blistered. But the results were only superficial. She still saw him there. Those black eyes, wild for her taste and agonized at not being able to have it.
Sleep was an impossibility. She couldn’t lie on the mattress, knowing that his blood had soaked its layers. She couldn’t feel herself mold into the indent of his body without struggling for air, just as he had done.
He was still there. Below the surface. The smell stoked the fire building in her stomach.
It had also been five days since she’d quenched her thirst.
The last blood to touch her throat had been Seth’s. She’d rather drink bleach than have his poison anywhere near her again. Shiloh tried to swallow, producing a hacking cough instead as pain ripped down her esophagus.
Burn. It burns!
Fucking Seth.
She’d messed with the devil, his brand scorching its way from the inside out. If only she’d ignored Seth that day he’d moved in across the street. She wouldn’t have been reduced to a plasma junkie. If she’d never started anything with him, her family would be safe. Lanie wouldn’t be lying in a coma.
Forbidden from visiting her sister’s bedside, Shiloh spent her days praying for Lanie’s recovery. But it wasn’t going to bring her back. For Shiloh, her state of inertia was akin to being in that hospital herself.
I can’t do this.
Reaching the bed, she spun around again and headed for the window. Peering through the curtains, she noted the SUV parked across the street. It was there every night. The uninvited elephant. A signpost to the chaos ruling the Howards’ lives. Nobody ever entered or exited the vehicle. She didn’t know how many cops they had on surveillance, but she was damn sure she could outrun them.
Letting the curtain fall back in place, she went to the closet to grab a hoodie and her runners, throwing them on before beelining to the window. Sliding the glass open, she made a quick exit, dropping to the grass.
Shiloh’s knees buckled as a hand landed on her shoulder from behind with the force of a Taser. “Where are you going?” The voice was female. Harsh. Unfamiliar.
Shiloh caged the scream before it shot from her lungs. Shit. She didn’t turn to see who it was, eyes scanning for the best escape route instead. Her mouth dried out as adrenaline shot into her veins. Was this woman a cop? Or was she working for Seth and had somehow slipped under the notice of the watch?
Lashing out at her assailant, Shiloh landed a sharp elbow into the woman’s gut. She folded forward with a grunt, her head brushing against Shiloh’s hip, but didn’t release her hold. Shiloh reached with her opposite arm, digging her nails into the offending hand until she hit bone. Ugh. Retracting her hand, she shivered, bile rising to the back of her throat.
Sorry. I’m sorry.
The woman spat a catalogue of profanities, relinquishing her grip. Shiloh launched into the air, landing with a thud on the roof of the SUV, the metal caving in beneath her. Shit. This was not where I was aiming. The car rocked underneath her as three of the doors opened. Four sets of red-tinged eyes glared in her direction—the woman who’d grabbed her rejoining their team. None of them were whom she needed to talk to.
Ah, crap.
Shiloh bolted. Her feet barely touched the asphalt as she sped away, two vampires on her tail. The woman—looking like a goth disciple with her black lips and heavily lined eyes—and a guy three times her size. Both of them were just as fast, just as strong, and just as determined as Shiloh. She led them in a powerful display of extreme parkour, testing her new ab
ilities to their limits: across rooftops and down alleyways, up sheer brick walls and swinging from balconies. Her body screamed in pain, joints and muscles wrenched beyond their capabilities. Shiloh’s steel will pushed her on until she made it to her destination.
Fluid Prey.
It was the only place she could think of where she might find Carter and get some answers. She slipped past the bouncers, disappearing into the writhing crowd and thumping music. Pausing to catch her breath, dancers bumped into her as she swiveled her head looking for her pursuers. Mountain man should’ve stood out, but she couldn’t spot him. Shiloh cried for space to breathe. The room was crammed so tightly, all the faces blended into an anonymous soup. She remembered the first time she’d been there with Lanie. The night she’d realized Devlin was a vampire. The crowd had split apart, bodies piling on top of each other at the will of an unknown force. She knew who that force had been now. Devlin.
Ducking down, she pushed her way to the back and aimed for the booths where she’d seen Detective Carter before. Shiloh stuck to the shadows on the edges of the room. She surveyed the patrons milling around the seats, drinks in hand, bathed in the neon glow from the recessed lights above. No sign of Carter.
“Shiloh.” She sucked in a breath, spinning around to find the detective frowning, hands on hips.
Carter was dressed in her pantsuit, the butt of her gun poking out from her open jacket. Not exactly a party dress. They must’ve called her.
“I’m impressed. You gave four vampires the slip. Trained police officers. I guess I underestimated you. And now you’ve left your parents with half the protection.”
Oh, shit. I didn’t think about that. “I’m sorry. Are they going to be okay?”
“We can’t talk here.” Carter gestured to the bar. “Follow me.”
The detective took her behind the action and lights, into the dull, gray, guts of the building. The staff went about their business, ignoring the intruders as if it was no biggie to see an armed detective and a teenager in a hoodie storming through the restricted area. Passing storerooms and an office, they exited through the back entrance to where Carter’s car was waiting under the cover of darkness.