by Emma Dawn
A slow clap stopped me in mid-block with an imaginary opponent. I looked to my right to see Malcom approaching. His blue eyes were full of...irritation? Humor? I wasn’t sure if he was happy I was there, or if he wanted to just kill me where I stood. Maybe both.
I stood up straight and put my hands on my hips. “You want another round of having your balls smashed up into the back of your mouth? ’Cause that’s the mood I’m in today. I will have zero of your shit. I will take none of your garbage, and for all I care you can fuck off and die.”
He probably didn’t deserve all of that. It was Spartan I was pissed with, not Malcom. Though I could blame Malcom for bringing me here in the first place and putting me in this mess.
He smiled, but there was no warmth in it, and his words echoed my own thoughts. “No thank you for bringing you here? That’s rude, Allianna.”
I shrugged. “You never asked. You took without even questioning what I wanted.”
“That’s not how it works in our world. Which is why right now, I’m going to have a taste of your sweet, hot blood.”
He leapt at me, half-flying through the air, his arms out wide. I dropped to my knees, and rolled to where Spartan had tossed the knife. I didn’t think Malcom meant to take a sip of my blood but the whole damn lot of it. I caught the handle of the knife in mid-roll, and came up swinging, praying something of Spartan’s teaching had stuck with me.
I arced the blade out, wildly, and managed to catch Malcom across the chest as he lunged at me, his fangs bared.
Snarling, he fell back and put a hand to the wound. “You wicked bitch.”
“Takes one to know one.” I stayed in a crouch with the knife held out in front of me. The only thing I could think was at least I wasn’t shaking. Malcom might kill me, but I would not go down cowering.
He circled me, his hands wide. “You think you can take me?”
“Again? Probably.” I fired the words, and the other vampires around us laughed at his expense. His face tightened into a snarl that twisted his handsome features into an image of hatred so strong that if I hadn’t been fighting for my life I would have been afraid.
As it was, I circled with him, watching his body the way Spartan had taught me. A part of my brain pointed out that in its own way, this was excellent practice for facing Terra. Assuming Malcom didn’t kill me outright.
Malcom shot out a hand, and I tried to block it, and ended up on my back, with Malcom on top of me. So much for holding him off.
I drove my elbow into the crook of his neck, and tried to throw him from me.
“Ah, she likes it rough,” he growled, reared up and then struck, biting deeply into my shoulder. I couldn’t stop the scream. The pain was so sharp, as though he’d not just cut through skin but somehow sliced into my bone, breaking me open. He shook his head like a dog, or a shark, as if he would try and pull a hunk of my shoulder off.
I didn’t stop fighting, though. I couldn’t. This was my life on the line.
With my other hand, I reached for his face, going for his eyes. I caught the edge of one and drove my fingers as hard I could into it. He howled and pulled off me, and I managed to skitter backward.
Where was Spartan, or King, or Preacher? Where were Wick and Celt? The men who had said they would protect me were absent at the worst possible time.
Here I was again, on my own. Another time, I would analyze the fact that I seemed drawn to men who left me out to dry.
Blood slid down my top, warm and wet from the wound in my shoulder. My free hand clutched at the grass; miraculously, I found the handle of the knife.
I stood again and settled into a fighting stance once more. There was a chorus of oohs from the other vampires.
One of Malcom’s eyes was shut tightly but the other glared at me. “You—”
“Bitch, I know. I heard you the first time,” I snapped. Fear cut through me. I was not ready to die. I did not want to go out like this.
“No.” Malcom gave me a nod. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for.”
I didn’t want praise from him. “Fuck off, Malcom.”
“Can’t.” There was something sad in his voice. “Fuck, I can’t. Orders are orders.”
Malcom’s legs tensed and I readied myself. I wouldn’t be so lucky this time as to keep him off me.
He was in the air; the world around us seemed to freeze. I knew this was the moment he’d take me down, bury his fangs in my neck and drain me.
I was about to die.
A blur from the side and a new body entered the fray, tackling Malcom just before he slammed into me. I didn’t dare back up. Malcom’s friends were there, waiting on the edge of the circle. Which meant I had a front-row seat to the battle in front of me.
I blinked, trying to see what was happening, but the bodies moved so fast, I could see nothing but bits and pieces, arms, legs, a shake of dirty blond hair.
“Spartan.” I breathed his name. He came back for me. Or had he heard me cry out? I clutched the knife, all but dancing on my toes because I didn’t know what to do. There was no way for me to help without potentially causing more grief.
There was a sudden scream of pain and the two men parted, one standing, the other curled on the ground around his middle.
Spartan didn’t look over his shoulder at me, but instead put a booted foot on Malcom’s neck, pressing him into the ground. “Apologize to her.”
Malcom groaned. “I am the queen’s man and I have my orders. You know that well.”
“Which are what?” I closed the distance between us. “What are her orders concerning me?”
Malcom’s eyes flicked to me and away. “That if any of us were to catch you on your own, we were to kill you on sight. Or at the very least drain you of enough blood to weaken you for the fight.”
He shuddered. “I do not want her as a queen, but she is a Pusher. You know that, Spartan, you and your brothers are the only ones who can stand against her demands.”
Pusher, what did that mean exactly? I quickly put his words together, understanding dawning despite the throbbing ache in my shoulder. “She can control you?”
“Yes.” Spartan lifted his foot from Malcom’s neck and came around to me. When he moved to take my arm, I jerked away from him, wincing.
“No. You don’t just get to come in here, save me, and think that everything from before is better.”
I steeled my shoulders, thoughts racing. “I’m going to see Cassie.”
I walked away from him, limping, my body announcing new injuries with every step. I didn’t care. I was leaving right then, before there was another attempt on my life.
Before Spartan broke my heart again with his callous words.
Chapter Fourteen
Spartan did not follow me from the training field, nor did any of the other vampires. I reached the narrow passageways and broke into a run, finding the hospital with only one wrong turn that I had to backtrack. I burst through the door, out of breath, and my adrenaline flowing hot, which I think was one of the few things keeping me standing. The injury to my shoulder throbbed with a beat all its own, and from what I knew that was not a good thing.
“Cassie?” I called out, not caring how loud I was. I knew an opening when I saw one, and this moment was it. This was our chance to get away.
My friend sat up and stared at me with ever-widening eyes as she took me in, the wound and the blood. “Ally, what happened?”
“Where is the doctor?”
She shook her head. “Gone, called away.”
“And the other patients?” I asked even as I searched the room. Far as I could see, the other patients were gone, the chains hanging empty. Eaten? Probably.
The bite wound in my shoulder ached and throbbed with a pain I suspected was only going to get worse. Already I could feel the heat from the bite curling down my arm and upper back—an infection was brewing at an inhuman speed.
“Is Havoc here?” I asked. I’d not given him a lot of time. I could only hop
e that it was enough.
I turned as he stepped out from behind a tall storage cabinet and gave me a tight smile. “I am.”
I nodded. “Now or never, then. Help me block the door. We need to buy ourselves more time.”
His lanky form was covered with pale green scrubs, but I could see his own injuries bleeding through here and there.
He glanced at the bite on my shoulder. “If we can get you to my pack, we can heal that infection.”
“Thank you,” I said as I helped him move a an exam table in front of the door.
“The least I can do. I was set to be killed as a sacrifice to the new queen.”
I snorted and waved at my shoulder. “No new queen happening here.”
Cassie stood on the bed under the long skylight. “If Havoc can lift me up, I can get into the chimney.”
He went to the bed and climbed up next to her. “You have the hammer?”
She touched a small reflex-testing hammer in her belt. “Got it. Ready to break out.”
With ease he scooped her up, his hands on her ass as he benched her over his head. She scrambled up and he continued to help her, his hands under her legs, feet and then she was free of him and in the chimney.
Havoc glance at me. “You next.”
The door behind us rattled. I hurried to him and he hoisted me into the air over his head. With effort, I got myself into the chimney, pressing my back on the one side and walking up with my feet on the other side. I tried not to hear the shouting below. Tried not to hear Spartan’s voice, or Preacher’s, King’s, Wick’s or Celt’s. They were calling to me.
Trying to stop me from leaving.
I kept moving. “I’m saving you all,” I whispered.
Havoc leapt up into the chimney with a single jump, digging his hands and bare feet into holds that I couldn’t even see. He was right under me. “If you fall, I’ll catch you.”
“You’d better,” Cassie snapped down. “She’s my best friend. I’m not losing her now.”
I looked up to see her swing the hammer at the same time as the door far below us shattered open. Glass tinkled down around us, and I could only hope we still had enough time.
God, let us have enough time that my leaving would save my boys. My heart jumped hard in my chest at the sudden truth. My boys, even Spartan was in that mix. I wanted them all, and I would do this to free them from danger.
Havoc pushed me from below and I got moving again.
Moments later Cassie helped me up and out of the tight chimney, and then Havoc was there and we were standing in the middle of a deep green forest. A full moon peeked here and there through the trees.
“Run,” Havoc growled.
Cassie and I broke into a run. I’d always been faster than her, even when I was heavier. But now she had to slow to keep pace with me.
“It’s the wound,” Havoc said. “The wound is slowing her down.”
I tried to swallow, to tell them I could keep up, but I could barely get the spit down my throat. I struggled to breathe.
From behind us came shouting, the sound of a snarl.
I fell to my knees and Havoc moved to pick me up. I shook my head. “Save her. Save her.”
His brown eyes softened. “Fight for them, Ally. You’re stronger than you know.”
He spun and grabbed Cassie by the hand. She cried out for me, but he overpowered her and in a split second they were gone, eaten up by the dark of the forest.
“Be safe, be happy, my sweet friend.” They were the last words I managed before I slumped forward, my face pressed into the cool night grass.
Frost tickled my nose and I wondered at it because I did not feel cold at all. If anything, I wanted to strip my clothes off and let my body cool from this intense burning heat.
Someone was calling to me. Was it my mother? I wasn’t sure, but I remembered she was dead, both her and Dad in the car accident. Which meant that if I was hearing her, maybe I was dying too? Was it possible...maybe...I didn’t know. Worse, I wasn’t sure I cared.
If I died, my men would be safe. I didn’t think I’d spoken them, but the response was as if I had. Then again, Preacher would have heard my thoughts if he were close enough, and he could relay them to the others. I floated in and out of the fog.
“Ah, Allianna.” Someone choked on my name. King, it was King I’d upset.
I managed to open my eyes. The five men who’d so quickly worked their way into my heart and mind surrounded me. That wasn’t true; Spartan stood back a few feet staring at the ground.
I drew a slow breath, but I couldn’t speak. Am I dying?
Preacher nodded. “Yes, Allianna. You’re dying. Malcom’s bite is poison.”
Havoc said his people could cure me. That they could save me.
Preacher startled and relayed my thoughts to the other four. They began to argue, and I could feel time slipping away, could feel my life counted in minutes left to me, not hours or days. It was Spartan who stepped forward and scooped me into his arms.
“I was wrong about her. I’ve been trying to prove she’s like all the other women we’ve known. Those who wanted the throne, but didn’t give a shit about us. I’ve denied her time and again and I’ve been wrong. I won’t let her die now that I’ve pulled my head out of my ass.”
There was a rush of movement and the world shot by me. He was running, still holding me. I had the feeling that the others were not far behind.
I wasn’t sure how long the run was. One moment we were in full motion, the next we were still and there was the sound of deep rolling growls all around us.
“Havoc, Ally saved you,” Spartan called out. “I would have you return the favor and save her life. If you still can.”
The growling intensified and then I was snatched from Spartan. I let out a whimper and reached for him, but he was swept away from me under a tidal wave of fur and fangs.
Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt him.
“Shush, save your energy,” a grumbling voice muttered. “Open your mouth, princess.”
I cracked my mouth open and a hot, vile liquid was jammed into it. I gagged, tried to turn my head but was held down until every last drop was swallowed, forced down my throat.
That vile taste was nothing, though, to the next thing that happened.
My shoulder was lanced. I turned my head in time to see a jet-black claw raked across my shoulder.
Pus burst out of the wound, green and smelling of death. I screamed, the pain rocketing through me not from the claw but resonating from deep within my shoulder.
“Poison bite, this was done on purpose,” that grumbling voice said. “It’ll ease, princess. It’ll ease.”
“Let me see her!” Cassie yelled, suddenly at my side, clutching at my good hand. “I’m here. I’m here.”
I closed my eyes, fatigue washing over me. Whatever was in the magic drink Preacher had given me on my first day could not stand up to this injury, and the counteractive measures against it.
Sleep slipped over me and I did not fight its call. Cassie would stand up for me, and so would my men, and Havoc I was sure would, too, if it came down to it.
The dreams that found me in that dark abyss were strange and called me through the shadows of my mind. I saw Havoc and six other shadows circling Cassie. I saw my sister Dominique standing with four men. I saw her best friend Rose die, killed by an explosion a year ago, and yet she was here, surrounded by spirits. All the images had a sense of danger around them...danger and love, too, as strange as that seemed. I reached for Cassie and Dominique, wanting to tell them, to warn them, not to go toward the supernatural I saw waiting for them, that their lives would be in danger, no matter how the bonds of love pulled at them.
Love. I wanted to snort at myself. I was not in love with the five vampires.
Why not?
The question from my own mind shocked me. Why not indeed? Was there such a thing as love at first sight? Or in this case, love at first fuck? But I hadn’t bedded Spartan, and my emot
ions around him were as tangled and complex as the ones wrapped around the other four men. Maybe even a little more, if I were being honest. Because I did not truly know where I stood with him, and yet I understood him. I wondered at his ability to deny the heat between us.
A groan slipped from my mouth and several hands pressed against my body, holding me down.
“Let the curative work.” Again, that growling deep voice. A part of my brain went to my writing. That voice belonged to an old man, bent at the back, magic flowing in his veins. A healer or a shaman.
I struggled up out of the pulse and flow of the curative. “I need to be awake.”
“You need to heal.” The hands pushed me down, gently, but with strength I could not deny. Five hands, to be exact. One on each limb, and the last between my breasts.
My five men.
I managed to flicker my eyelids and catch a glimpse of the scene above me. King and Wick stood holding my arms. Celt and Preacher were on my legs, and Spartan had his hand on my chest.
Spartan leaned over me. “Sleep, we will protect you.”
“First time,” I mumbled. I wanted to say first time for everything but that was all I managed. Spartan nodded.
“Yes, first time for everything. We are with you now, Ally. We are your guardians. We will not let this happen again. We were foolish to underestimate you.”
I wanted to say that the queen might have something to say about that. I also wanted to point out we were wasting valuable time. I could be training. Or we could be planning some sort of plan. Succinct, even for me.
But what was that time going to do for us? Would I train to fight the queen and hope that I could win?
Would I allow myself to enjoy my fist of men until my life was ended in a few short days?
Or could I convince them to go with me, to run from the queen and live out our lives elsewhere?
“Sleep,” Preacher said, “and we will discuss all of it when you wake.”
His words acted as a release, and I cascaded into the depths of sleep as though falling from the top of a mountain, knowing there would be men I was tumbling head over heels in love with at the bottom to catch me.