by Susan Bliler
Going to his kitchen, he pulled open one of the double doors on his stainless-steel fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. Cracking it open, he tossed the lid into the trash bin beside the counter before heading to his office. He had his “tech guy” searching for any and all intel on one Sam Michaels, and he was growing impatient as he waited.
Seated in the leather chair behind his large L-shaped desk, he frowned at his computer monitor as he waited. His e-mail didn’t miraculously ping under his frowning scrutiny, so he relaxed back in his chair and studied the large room. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the walls on either side of him, while behind him were sliding glass doors leading out to a patio housing two deck chairs facing a large fire pit with a small table between them.
Turning, he eyed the patio furniture and wondered for the thousandth time why he’d ordered two chairs.
Fuck! Shoving back from his desk, he stalked out to the sitting room where he had a large leather sofa and two plush armchairs facing an empty hearth. His gaze shot to the front door and the wooden bench seat he’d built there. He’d intentionally constructed several small boxes beneath the seat with the intention of storing shoes there, and he frowned hard at the side under the bench that had smaller boxes, built for smaller shoes. His eyes lifted to the hooks he’d attached to the tall wooden plank that towered over the bench seat. He’d added it so that anyone coming in could hang their coat when they removed their shoes, and his jaw clenched at the two hooks he’d mounted slightly lower than the higher two. He’d made them for someone shorter than himself...a female.
Sam! Why couldn’t he stop imagining her in his home? Seriously, what was she going to do? Strip out of her Lycra assassin suit and hang it on one of the lower hooks?
Part of him had always hoped that one day he’d find his Angel. He knew about the affliction and honestly, he looked forward to it. The Skin Walker Affliction would mean the female, his Angel, would be able to see past his physical appearance and love him for the man inside. But, the affliction never came. After countless years of introductions to countless females, both at Apex and StoneCrow, there’d been nothing. Hell, even Sam wasn’t his One. There was no affliction, and without it, she’d never be his.
He frowned hard at the bench seat/coat rack and contemplated taking it outside and chucking it down the mountainside.
Ping!
With his heightened sense of hearing, the e-mail alert rang clear. He rushed to his office, excited to finally have some information on Sam, but his excitement was short lived. The e-mail was from Jenny, and he considered ignoring it, but she rarely—if ever—e-mailed him, so he opened it.
Bellis, I need you to come back to the North Fortress. There has been a complication with Sam and I need…well, your blood. Get here soon. That’s not a request. –J
He ignored her commanding tone, still stuck on the ‘there’s been a complication with Sam’ part. What kind of complication? Is she okay? Clearly not, if she needed more blood. She was a vampire or something similar that fed off people, but why would they need him? There were two dozen Keepers there now, plus one Walker in Jenny and a human in Rohm’s mate Nyree. It was a veritable smorgasbord of species for Sam to feed from, so why him? Unless…was it a trap? Had Sam gotten free? Did the Megalya know where she’d been taken?
Standing, he fisted his black tactical shirt from where it hung on the back of his office chair and shrugged into it. Excitement thrummed through him at the prospect of seeing Sam again, and he shook his head at his own giddy anticipation while trying to convince himself that it was incited by the prospect of battle.
Chapter 15
Sam missed Bellis. She snorted, shaking her head at the realization. Idiot! Still, all the self-admonishment in the world wouldn’t change the fact that she’d felt different around him. Sure, the Keepers who held her now were just as large as Skin Walkers, but something about standing beside Bellis’ massive frame made her feel feminine and surprisingly safe. Odd, because she never felt safe. It wasn’t just that he was large either. It was the way he hovered over her, made sure she wasn’t stepped on or bumped into. It was sexy as all fuck and the last thing she needed right now was to be getting all wet over a fucking Skin Walker, especially a demon Walker. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about those black lips and the way his white incisors overfilled his mouth and pressed into his bottom lip. Hot! She wondered if his lips would taste like sin, and the thought had her licking her own before she slammed her eyes closed with a sigh.
Rolling to her side, she ignored the pain the action brought, facing the wall while trying to think about how she was going to get herself out of this mess. She’d been given something to help her sleep, and she was just now shaking off the last of its effects. Her clearing senses were a relief. She needed her wits about her if she still hoped to escape. Honestly though, escape was becoming a secondary concern to her body’s sudden inability to process blood. It’d never happened before, and somehow, she knew it had something to do with feeding from Bellis. Taking his blood had done something to her, and she had no idea what. Even Jenny couldn’t come up with a theory, but it didn’t stop the Skin Walker doctor from taking samples of Sam’s blood without Sam’s consent. She’d been too weak to do anything but glare at the woman while she tried to convince Sam that she was doing it for Sam’s benefit. Bitch!
Sighing, her mind strayed back to Bellis. Involuntarily, her tongue swiped her dry lips and her belly growled. She was hungry for him, and her eyes fluttered closed when she realized it was in more ways than one. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, who he was doing it with. She even wondered if he was thinking about her, and that errant thought had her eyes snapping open. Of course he wasn’t thinking about her. Nobody thought about her, but goddamn, she was thinking about him. She was thinking about his eyes and how the little pinpricks of blue in the middle nearly perfectly matched the color of her own. For some odd reason that made her feel a kinship with him that she knew she shouldn’t.
A slight sound caught her attention, stifling her unwanted thoughts. Shoving slowly up from her prone position on her cot, her eyes shot to where she knew the door was, and she waited with a disgusting amount of hope that Bellis was back.
Nyree stepped into view and Sam’s heart plummeted. Carrying a tray of food, Nyree stopped at the cell door and bent to slide the tray through the bottom slot. Sam was surprised to see her again after the fiasco of what had happened in the infirmary.
Jenny had finally talked Nyree into offering up blood, because apparently, the good doc was creaming herself over keeping Sam alive long enough to study her. It was both good and bad. Good, because it bought Sam time, and bad because she didn’t to be poked and prodded. Once Nyree agreed, Jenny took a sample of blood the same way she’d taken her own, and honestly, Sam had been relieved. One Walker woman and a human female weren’t going to be a match for her once she was fully sated with blood. But, once again, that didn’t happen. No, she’d drunk down Nyree’s blood the same as she’d taken Jenny’s, and just like before she’d puked it all up until her guts felt like they were being ripped from her insides. Her wound had re-opened fully and Jenny had been forced to stitch her. That was when she’d drugged Sam to make her sleep. When Sam finally woke, she was back in her cell, stitched, bandaged, nauseated, and thirsty as all fuck.
Sam watched Nyree stand and cross her arms over her chest, trying to look intimidating. She had something wadded in her hand, and her brows dipped as she lifted her hand and shoved something between the bars before letting it drop. It nearly landed on Sam’s plate of food, but she didn’t give two shits because food wasn’t going to cut it right now.
“Here are your clothes,” Nyree clipped out.
***
Bellis entered the door leading to the cells behind Nyree, but he didn’t show himself. Not yet. While Sam was oblivious to the fact that he was there, he wanted to listen to her conversation, scent her, see if he couldn’t pick up on something, anything that might e
xplain her.
Planting himself against the wall, he watched Nyree slide the tray of food into Sam’s cell and then shove her suit through the bars. When Sam spoke, just the sound of her voice had him tensing hard.
“Ooooh, Little Dove, I like your hair.”
Nyree’s hair hung to her waist in soft hazel curls. Admittedly, it was nice if you noticed girly shit like that, but the flattering remark coming from Sam was odd. He’d never heard her praise anyone and he wondered at her words.
“Th-thank you,” Nyree offered reluctantly, as if unsure how to respond.
Sam’s voice was dead when she spoke again. “It’d look good on my mantle.”
Damn, Bellis couldn’t stop the smirk that tweaked his lips. There was the Sam he knew.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Nyree countered boldly.
There was a smile in Sam’s voice when she responded, “You fucking should be.”
“You’re going to die in here,” Nyree vowed, and it pissed him off.
Who was she to make threats like that?
“You’re a vampire who can’t even feed!” Nyree looked down at the plate on the floor. “Unless steak and potatoes will sustain you, then you are on limited time, vampire.”
Sam’s voice was mocking when she responded, “Oh, I’m not dying in here, Little Dove. This, this is vacation.” There was a beat of silence before she sing-songed, “And it’s almooost o-ver!”
“Say what you want, traitor. You’re never leaving here.”
“We’ll see.”
Nyree turned and marched down the hall, brushing Bellis’ broad arm as she passed. She slammed the door as she left, and thinking she was alone, Bellis heard Sam sigh deeply. It sounded defeated and gave him an insight to her. She was always pretending to be so hard. He’d believed it was an act, but that little sound? That just confirmed it.
He took a step, then another, and kept on walking until Sam’s slight frame came into view. She was huddled on a cot in a blood soaked gown. The sight was infuriating. Why hadn’t she been cleaned, or given fresh clothing? Skin Walkers didn’t treat their captives like this, and he made a mental note to have a talk with Fatal about how his Keepers treated prisoners.
Sam’s blue gaze locked on his, and he had to concentrate on keeping his feet moving.
“Well, well, well. My demon, you’re back.”
Chapter 16
Bellis clenched his jaw at her words. Sam had no idea what the use of the word ‘my’ did to his inner beasts.
Silently, he approached the bars before lifting his hand. “A gift.”
Sam’s eyes dipped to his hand, and her nostrils flared before she grinned. “Smells delicious.”
But she made no move to come for the glass of his blood he held out to her. Looking to the side, she swallowed hard, and he inhaled deeply. He could scent some strange drug wafting from her, and it mingled with the harsh scent of her pain. She wasn’t coming to him because she couldn’t.
Snarling, he bellowed, “OPEN THE CELL!”
Nothing happened for a moment, then there was a buzz before the door lock clicked. Sam’s cool gaze slid to him, and he bent and picked up her suit from the floor before eyeing the tray of food. “You want that?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Why don’t you bring me that glass?”
He wanted to balk and acquiesce in equal measure, but torturing an injured Sam wasn’t in him. Closing the space between them, he dropped her suit on the cot by her hip before holding out the glass. He watched as Sam lifted a shaky hand and gripped the glass, but worried that her trembling fingers would drop it, he helped guide it to her lips. She took a small sip before pulling back, turning her head to the side like she expected something to happen. Nothing did.
When she turned to press the glass to her lips again, she drank like a woman who’d been denied water for a week. Some of his blood spilled down the sides of her mouth and onto her gown, but it’s not like it made any difference. The gown she wore was trashed.
The slender column of her throat convulsed with each swallow and her eyes had closed. When the glass was empty, he pulled it away from her lips and waited. Jenny had told him of her difficulties drinking from her and Nyree, but hearing that she’d tried to drink from Keo too had enraged him more than it should have. Right now though, he was concerned with how she’d keep down his blood. Jenny had called him Sam’s last resort.
Her pink little tongue darted out and licked her lips and then she sucked her lips into her mouth before letting them pop back out.
He had to know if she was okay. “Sam?”
Her eyes blinked open, the blue in them glowing like they were radioactive, but when she blinked it was like she was drugged. Her eyelids were heavy, and each blink lasted longer and longer until her body started falling to the side. Bellis caught her, lowering her to the mattress before lifting her legs to the cot. He watched her closely, waiting to see if she continued to breath, her heart continued to beat. Her breathing was even, the steady rise and fall of her chest telling him she wasn’t having an episode. She was asleep.
Shaking his head, he looked down at the empty cup. Something about drinking from him put her out just like last time. He needed answers, but he’d get none until she woke, so he settled onto the cot near Sam’s head, pulling her to him until her head and shoulders rested across his lap. Absently, one hand stroked her hair while the other wiped a smear of blood from her cheek.
***
An hour later, Sam’s breathing hitched as she inhaled deeply. Her eyes blinked open, and they’d gone back to that icy blue he knew so well.
“It worked,” she breathed, staring up at him as relief hit him like a sledgehammer. It only lasted a moment though, as her brows snapped into a frown and she bit out, “What did you do to me?”
Hell if he knew.
“I can only drink from you!” she accused. “Nice fucking trick. Now, fix it!”
“I didn’t do anything, Sam.”
“Then why?” she countered. He could only shake his head, just as curious as she was.
“Jenny will check into it. She’ll find out. She’s good at what she does.”
“I’m not giving her any more of my blood!”
He shrugged. He had no idea if Jenny needed more or not. He also doubted that, if she did, Sam would be able to keep her from it. When it came to medical oddities with regards to differing species, Jenny was the most relentless creature on the face of the earth. He knew it was one of the reasons the Keepers and their Soul Sentries were so eager to get away from StoneCrow. Well, that and Monroe’s decree that they keep their eyes and hands off all females. The thought made him wonder… “Have the Keepers been treating you well?”
“I’m locked in a cell covered in blood. What do you think?”
That’s not what he wanted to know, though. He wanted to know if any of them had approached her in a sexual manner. “No one’s…touched you have they?”
“No one touches me unless I want them to.” She sat up slowly, then gingerly stood as if she expected her legs to buckle. They held, and she bent to snatch up her suit. Her hands lifted to the collar of the gown she wore and, unsure why he did it, Bellis rose and gave her his back. There was a soft snort and then the rustling of fabric.
“Were your parents demons too?”
He tensed at the question. He didn’t talk about his parents, mostly because he only knew his mother and yes, she was a demon. “Don’t know,” he lied. “Never met ‘em.”
“You can turn around.”
He did and inhaled at the sight of Sam back in that skin-tight black suit. It hugged her curves so damn lovingly that he was actually jealous of it. “What of your parents?” he asked by way of distraction.
***
Sam balked at the question about her family, but then decided there was no harm in answering honestly. Hell, it was probably information Monroe already had on her anyway. “Never knew my father. My mother died of cancer.”
“Sorry
,” he offered.
Sam shrugged lamely, drawing a curious look from Bellis.
“What? You didn’t love your mother?”
“Of course I loved her,” Sam growled, “but it’s been my experience that if you live by the sword, you die by the sword.” She sighed, some of the anger leaving her. “Mom smoked. A lot! Two packs a day, not that it mattered. She was a drug addict too. When she got lung cancer, I wasn’t shocked.” A hard smile pulled the corner of her mouth. “You don’t eat caramels every day and not expect to get fat, right? My sympathy is reserved for those deserving, not someone who contributed to her own demise. After all, this isn’t a dress rehearsal. There are no second chances in life. You need to choose right and do right the first time.”
Bellis studied her for long moments, his nostrils flaring several times before he stated, “You’re hurt that your mother died of her choices. You feel abandoned by her. You feel that she chose wrong.”
Sam gave Bellis a hard look. “Hardly.” She turned her back to him, knowing she’d revealed too much. Bending, she fisted her bloodied gown before tossing it out the still open cell door.
“And are you choosing right, Sam? Are you doing right?”
She tensed. If you only knew. God, how she longed to tell him who she really was, and all that she had sacrificed. Instead, she countered, “Of course I’m choosing right.” She turned to level cold eyes on him, a look she’d practiced hundreds of times. “The world is a jungle, Demon. You either fight or run until you die. This life is only about survival. I’m choosing to survive. I’m choosing me!”
“Liar!” Bellis snarled. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her hard into him as he towered over her. “Why are you pretending to be something you’re not? What do you have to gain from it? Tell me why you’re doing this!”
Sam’s eyes grew distant as she remembered her first year of training.