by Mina Carter
“There we go, sweetpea,” he murmured, trying to arrange her as comfortably as possible. She whimpered and reached for him, as though the loss of his body against hers was too much to bear.
He didn’t let himself think; he just reached for her. Settling himself on the couch with her in his lap, he held her through the horrors of her conversion. She shook and shivered as cold sweat poured from her. Moaning pitifully, she heaved and threw up black bile, her changing body rejecting whatever food she’d had in her stomach. By the time the muscle spasms hit, Brett had devised over a hundred ways to make the Blood who had done this to her suffer.
All the time his mind churned. Why change a human? They’d all seen the nightmare The Project had become. Even the Bloods, as sick and twisted as some of them were, surely weren’t so cruel as to condemn more innocents to become what they were? It had to have been an accident... a Blood letting his food get away from him.
Anger followed hard on the heels of that thought. That she’d been simply food for some asshole Blood pissed him off on a level he’d never previously experienced. A loud crack sounded like a gunshot in the small room. He looked down to find his fingers buried deep in the ruined mess of the couch’s arm. He’d crushed it as easily as he would crumple paper.
She turned in his arms as though she could sense his anger and sought to comfort him. Her hands stroked over his shoulders and chest. Small, placating movements. A soft murmur escaped her lips that brushed softly against the side of his throat. Arousal slammed into him for the second time that night and kick-started his heart. Male reaction took over as what seemed like all the blood in his body rushed straight to his cock.
She wriggled, clamping tighter around him at the sound of his beating heart. Her shapely ass ground against his rigid cock, dragging a moan from the depths of his chest. A groan which became a moan of utter need when her tongue brushed the skin over his jugular. He dropped his head back, exposing his throat to her. That she’d have developed a Blood’s fangs during her conversion didn’t bother him. Far from it. In fact, the idea of her biting him, or those fangs slicing through his skin and deep into his flesh while he filled her with his dick , turned him on so much that he almost shot his load then and there in his pants.
The door cracked open to reveal Dom. His keen gaze flicked over the two of them on the couch. His eyebrow winged up, but wisely he didn’t comment.
“She’s going to need something to eat soon,” he said softly, leaning one broad shoulder against the doorframe. Brett just nodded. Dom was the only one of them who had pulled duty in the Blood area. If anyone knew about Blood infection and how to deal with it, it would be him. “The medical staff on the base used to say the first meal sets the personality. Animal blood....” He shuddered. “Not gonna cut it. We’re gonna need to find a blood donor for her.”
“No!” Brett snarled, fury at the idea snapping every muscle in his body taut. There was no way he was letting her sink fangs into anyone but him. “Not gonna happen. If she feeds from anyone, it’s going to be me.”
Dom folded his arms across his massive chest, his expression grim. “Uh… did you miss the part about ‘first meal sets the personality’? You really want her first meal being one of us? With what we are?”
“Crap….”
Brett shifted her in his arms, looking down into her face. The tiny shimmer of moonlight from the window somehow found her, caressing the delicate lines of her face with a touch as light as any lover’s. He reached up to stroke his fingertips over her cheek. Her skin was the softest thing he’d ever felt, and instantly he knew he’d never get tired of touching her. A beer and sports game date kind of guy, he’d never been the romantic sort, but the way her eyelashes curved and fluttered against her pale skin made him wish he was. A small, up-tilted nose was set above lips he suddenly found himself unable to look away from. Neither overly full nor thin, their sensuous curve teased him. Filled him with curiosity. What would they taste like when he finally made her his?
“And did you forget she’s a Blood?” Dom reminded him softly. “One of the assholes we’re chasing?”
“She’s not like them,” Brett said softly, brushing a lock of hair gently from her face. “She didn’t choose this.”
Not moving from the door, Dom grunted. “None of us did. Fucking Project.” He straightened up and cast a glance into the room behind him. “Okay. If you plan to keep her, we need to hunt. Leave her here; she’ll sleep for a few hours yet. Then we’ll see about getting her something to eat.”
He didn’t want to leave her, but couldn’t deny the truth in Dom’s words. It had already been too long since his last meal. If he planned to bring in a human for his little Blood, he was going to need a lot more juice in the tank.
“Okay. Gimme a few, and I’ll be right there.”
Dom nodded, the rapid side to side movement at the end one Brett had become used to. The light of battle and the hunt shone in his eyes before he slipped through the door.
It didn’t take Brett long to slide the sleeping woman off his lap and settle her more comfortably on the decrepit couch. She murmured in protest, somehow aware of his intention to leave her, and reached for him. Baby Blood claws erupted from the ends of her fingers to snarl in his flesh.
He sucked in a hard breath as arousal hit him broadside again, and fought the need to start his heart beating. He didn’t need blood surging through his system eating up what remained of his energy. Because with it would go his ability to think, and left to operate on sheer instinct, he wasn’t sure which urge would win out. The need to fuck, or eat. And the latter certainly wasn’t the “fun in the bedroom” sort of eating.
“I won’t be long, sweetpea,” he promised, leaning back to shuck his shirt off. Ripped and torn, it wasn’t much to write home about as a garment, but it held his scent. As soon as he tucked it in under her chin, she quieted down, wrapping herself around the battered fabric with a sigh of contentment. Allowing himself a look and a small smile, Brett turned and headed out of the door.
***
Julia woke with a crick in her neck. Grumbling, she wriggled to find a comfortable position, but her bed wasn’t co-operating. Overnight it seemed to have changed configuration so that there was a hard board down the top and one side. With a sigh, she flipped on her back, only to have something soft flop over her face. Damn pillow always did that. Fighting a wave of irritation, she moved to grab it and throw it as far away from her as possible, but paused halfway as the most delicious scent washed over her.
God, what was it? A moan escaped her and she grabbed the source, holding it to her face as she breathed in deeply. Rich with dark undertones, it was a treat for the senses, one so beguiling that her mouth watered. Opening her eyes, she looked at what was in her hands. It was a bundle of torn cloth. Frowning, she unfolded it. Not torn cloth. It was a man’s t-shirt.
Memory returned. Nightmare images and pain assaulted her. She remembered agony slicing through her neck and fire filling her veins as pain like icy razor blades clawed at her insides. Through it all, she heard a man’s voice. Deep and reassuring, she’d latched onto the sound to help her through the worst of the pain. He’d held her. Strong arms supported her when she’d thought her own body was trying to kill her. Gentle fingers brushed her hair back from her face when the slightest touch had felt like a brand over her skin. Even the pressure of her own clothes had been almost too much to bear, but somehow his skin was cool. Soothing.
The nightmares faded to a dull roar in the back of her mind the more she concentrated on the memories of him. She focused on the T-shirt in her hands again. It belonged to him. The delicious scent... that was his as well. She clutched the scrap of fabric to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. Which it was, to her. Until she found him. But who was he? Although she couldn’t remember anything since she’d been... attacked, there was no doubt in her mind that he’d saved her.
How though? They’d been...she made herself face the word...Vampires.
How could one man face so many vampires and survive? Her breath caught in her throat as sudden fear assaulted her. Shit, what if he hadn’t survived?
She sat bolt upright in a rush and looked around, finally taking note of her surroundings. She lay on an ancient couch in a small room. Dust and debris collected in the corners, and a work surface ran the length of the wall down one side. From the battered, out-of-date calendar on the wall by the door, to the chipped mug on one corner of the cluttered surface, it screamed workshop. No blood splattered up the walls though, nor was there a body on the floor. She shifted, arching her back to look behind the couch. Nope, no body there either. She closed her eyes in relief, only for them to spring open again at the sound of an unfamiliar male voice.
“I can see why Perkins likes you. You’re a pretty little thing.”
She snapped her head around. A tall man stood in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. He wore jeans that rode low on lean hips, and his tattered T-shirt was ripped enough to display a rock-solid six-pack. Her gaze travelled upward. Piercing light blue eyes were offset by a hard masculine beauty that under other circumstances would have drawn her like a moth to a flame. Not now. His scent was all wrong. As she watched, his head moved in a rapid side to side motion that was nowhere near human.
The hiss started somewhere near the pit of her stomach and surged upward to explode from between her gritted teeth with the force of a freight train. The darkness within her welled up in response to whatever he was. More than that, it hated whatever this man was with a deep, instinctive passion.
The ghost of a smile flirted with the corners of his lips as she watched, hunger filling his eyes. But it wasn’t the carnal hunger of a man looking at a woman he wanted. It was the hunger of a man looking at a meal.
Almost before she registered it, Julia moved. Springing up to balance on the back of the battered couch, she scanned the room for another way out. No way was she going anywhere near him and the door.
“Looks like the conversion is complete. Good. Means you’re not human. Not human means fair game.”
Conversion? What was he going on about? Following his gaze, she looked down at the hand she was using to balance herself on the back of the rickety furniture. Only her hand wasn’t the same. Instead of merely gripping the decaying leather, claws extending from her fingertips, puncturing the hide of the couch and anchoring themselves in what lay underneath.
Claws. The hiss. Shit…. She’d seen that before.
“So…that makes you a Blood.” His voice broke into her thoughts and she snapped her head up to find him a couple of steps closer, eyes bright with anticipation. “That makes you prey.”
He lunged for her at the same time she pushed off from the couch, her body singing with dark energy as she bounced off the wall to the left and jumped for the door. She was… something else. Like the creatures who had taken her. The vampires. At the thought, pain sliced through her gums, her own blood filling her mouth followed swiftly by thick fangs.
A hard hand closed on her shoulder from behind. He had her. She snarled and swung around, dislodging his hold and flashing her new dental work at him. He just laughed and backhanded her heavily across the face. The blow was like being hit by a truck.
A silent scream filled her head as she was lifted and thrown against the door. The door knob hit her in the center of her back, a blow around her kidneys that had to cause fatal internal bleeding. But her body had other ideas, moving almost before she’d slumped to the ground. She twisted to the side, a large fist slamming into the floor where her head had been a moment before, and a look of surprise crossed her opponent’s face.
“Fucking Blood. I’ll rip out your heart and eat it.”
She lashed out, her body moving of its own accord, and opened his face from temple to lip with her new claws. He didn’t even flinch, not even when the flesh slipped, revealing the whiteness of his teeth. He had fillings. Fuck. What sort of monster had fillings?
“Yeah? Not if I rip yours out first.”
Her words were borne of anger, rage, and frustration at the bizarre turn her life had taken. One thing was for sure: fuck the vampire who had bitten her, and whatever this guy was. She was not going down without a fight.
Still on the floor, she pulled her feet back and bucked upward, slamming her heels into his chest in a copy of a martial arts move she’d only ever seen on the television before. He stumbled backward, crashing into the couch and falling over it. Snarls of rage erupted from behind it, but she didn’t wait around. Getting her feet under her, she raced for the door, hauled it open….
And ran straight into a broad chest.
Chapter Six
Brett’s body hummed with power and energy. Their hunt had gone well. Even in the dense woods and undergrowth, it hadn’t taken them long to track and bring down their prey. Not a bear, even though the area was rife with them. Bears were trouble. Wicked fast, and some had a mean streak a mile wide. Even the four SARAs, with all their enhanced abilities, knew to avoid them. They weren’t worth the hassle or the staples it would take to hold the claw marks together until they healed.
Instead, they’d brought down a deer. A large doe, without a fawn. Fredericks had been very specific about that, passing over a younger animal because they’d spotted its offspring at the last moment. He was funny like that. Particular about things. Like ensuring that the doe was dead before they tore into it. Only by half a second, but dead and gone before they tore into it with hands and teeth, consuming the blood and flesh before the energy of life they so desperately needed faded from the body, rendering it poisonous.
Doing something like that took absolute control and determination. Neither of which Brett would have with food right there in front of him, no matter how much the thought of what they did horrified the part of his mind that still thought of himself as human. But he was glad at least one of them had that strength, for the rest. They were abominations created by a lab. No natural creature deserved to suffer because of them.
The three of them reached the workshop just as dusk fell. They hadn’t seen Kelwood since before they’d taken down the deer, but that wasn’t unusual. The new energy surging through Brett’s veins and the delicate, feminine scent of the woman he’d left asleep in the back room made his heart ache to beat again, but he held it in check. Restarting his heart would use energy. Energy he wanted to hold onto as long as possible so he didn’t have to feed again soon.
As soon as he was through the door, he took a deep breath, seeking her scent. He didn’t know her name. She’d been too out of it for him to ask before, but he’d find out soon. She had to be awake or close to it by now, surely? He frowned. Her scent had teased him as they neared the workshop, but here, inside, it changed. Became sharper with fear and rage.
His head snapped up as a crash echoed sharply in the back room. The sounds of a fight, complete with snarls and cursing, filtered through the cheap wood of the false wall and door.
Shit. The Bloods had found them. Had found her.
He started towards the internal door, but the familiarity of one of the snarls struck him. It was way too deep for a woman and familiar. He looked over his shoulder. Fredericks and Dom were behind him, wearing identical masks of concern. Kelwood. Since he was prone to flitting off, Brett hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now his absence became more sinister.
A bellow escaped him, punching free as he strode across the floor to yank the door open. A small figure tumbled through the opening and right into his arms. The alluring scent hit him at the same moment that she did, burying a small fist right into his gut.
“Oomph!” The air exited his lungs in a rush, but he managed to wrap her up in his embrace. Like his heart beating, breathing was an optional extra these days, a habit he found hard to break. Which was good since she fought like a wildcat, and with trying to hold onto her, he couldn’t block all her blows. Her kicks and punches were delivered with a power and precision that was nowhere near human. She was stronge
r than any woman he’d met. Definitely a Blood’s strength.
He managed to hold onto her, turning to the side to shield her as a second, larger figure barreled out of the back room. Kelwood. The hissing and fighting woman in Brett’s arms moaned and stopping kicking him, burying her face against his neck instead. His blood went from ice-cold to near boiling point as he looked at his ‘brother’.
Kelwood pulled up in front of his three teammates, his posture turning defensive as he clocked their silent accusation.
“What?” He shrugged, his gaze latching onto the shivering woman in Brett’s arms. Hunger filled his eyes, twisting his features for a moment so that he resembled the monster they all were inside. “She’s a Blood. Which makes her fair game. Unless y’all forgot what they’re like?”
He lurched forward, heading toward Brett and his female. Brett bared his teeth, ready to take Kelwood apart if he had to. He didn’t get a chance. Fredericks moved first, stepping between them and blocking Kelwood.
“No,” their leader’s voice cracked like a whip in the sudden, tense silence in the room. “We are not this, and she is not them. They chose to join the Project; she didn’t.”
His words rang like a death knell in the room, and Brett looked down, ashamed. At the time it had seemed too hard to walk away, and doing the right thing…. Exposing the Project for what it was doing had been unthinkable. They all knew that anyone who asked questions ended up with extra ventilation in their skull and a shallow grave somewhere that couldn’t be traced.
Up until this morning, if asked, Brett would have said they should have taken the shallow grave. But now, with his arms full of a woman who smelled like temptation and heaven, he was beginning to see the upside to his continued existence.
“We, at least, knew what was going on, even if we were too cowardly to walk away. She didn’t. This was forced on her without her consent, and we will not stoop to their level.”