by A C Warneke
“Listen,” Jiro said with sympathy, which sounded strange coming from the arrogant Aradian. “I’ve got a few girls who would be more than happy to take care of you.”
Blinking his eyes, Jack looked at the Aradian, wondering if he understood correctly what Jiro was offering. “Are you talking about… sex?”
“Of course,” the man said with an insouciant shrug. “I don’t mind sharing, at least not with you. After all that you’ve been through, I can’t think of a more deserving human.”
“Gee, thanks,” Jack bit out with more than a hint of sarcasm. “But I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.”
“I’m not talking about a relationship, just sex,” Jiro countered. “You don’t know what Malorie's blood has done to you, Jack. You don’t know if you’ll have an extended life or if you’ll die tomorrow. Do you really want to go through the rest of your days never knowing the touch of another woman?”
“Of course not but right now I don’t want any more complications,” he ground out, wishing the bastard would shut up because he didn’t want to think.
“Well, if you change your mind it’s not like I’m going to be very far away despite my brief absence this afternoon,” Jiro said with an almost cruel chuckle. “Your wife wants me to keep an eye on you and my brother wishes me to indulge all of your wife’s desires.”
Jack’s fingers curled into fists as he struggled not to punch the Aradian in his face, wondering if the man was deliberately cruel and occasionally kind or if his kindness was a complete accident. “But you’ll never truly know my wife’s desires, will you?”
“Touché.” The corner of Jiro’s lips quirked up in a half-smile. “Unfortunately, you’re wrong.”
“Your brother would share Malorie with you?” he asked with incredulity. Even if it were true, he knew Malorie would never go for something like that….
Jiro threw his head back and laughed, “Never. But you forget I am an Aradian.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jack sneered, turning his head and finally looking at the man. A strange gleam lit Jiro’s eyes as he leaned forward, exposing the sharp points of his canines. Jack tilted his head back but the man’s hands came up, held his head steady, and sank his teeth into Jack’s throat.
Jack pushed against Jiro’s shoulders but the Aradian was too strong, drinking his blood without his permission as Taella had done all of those years ago. He knew that Jiro had no desire to convert him but it didn’t ease the tremor that made its way through his body.
“Think of your wife,” Jiro growled around Jack’s flesh.
“No,” Jack managed as he struggled to hold onto consciousness. He wouldn’t give this beast the satisfaction of knowing Malorie, even vicariously through a memory. Unfortunately, his body had been conditioned to find pleasure whenever Taella drank of him and it couldn’t tell the difference between a female’s teeth and a male’s. Against his will, the image of Malorie flooded his brain, all naked limbs, graceful beauty and passionate embraces.
“Can I taste you?” he begged, breathing in the heady, feminine scent of her arousal. He wanted to bury his face between her thighs and devour her whole.
“Jack, no,” she said, her face bright red as she shook her head. But her pulse raced in her throat and he knew she was intrigued by the idea of being fucked with his tongue. He had to remind himself that she was still young, only eighteen, and had even less experience with sex than he had. While he had been a virgin, he had watched too much porn and he had learned a lot of interesting techniques. In a few months, he would bring her to orgasm with his mouth.
Instead of licking her, he gently touched her with his fingers, loving how wet she was, as if she had been designed for sex….
“Stop,” Jack whispered, sliding a hand between his neck and Jiro’s mouth. As the Aradian continued to slurp down his blood, he concentrated on another memory, one that wasn’t about Malorie. He pictured Taella, with her blood red lips and long, raven black hair, as she kneeled in front of him, taking his heavy erection into her lush mouth.
After an eternity that was only a few seconds, the Aradian released him. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jiro sat back with a satisfied smile, “No wonder Feryn is smitten. Your wife blew my fucking mind.”
Jack scowled, holding his hand over his no-longer-bleeding neck. “I wasn’t thinking about her.”
“It doesn’t matter what you tried to remember,” he said with a smirk. “I only told you to think about your wife because I thought it would be more pleasant for you. Oh, well. Since I have tasted your blood, Jack, I have your memories.”
“You bastard,” Jack seethed, swinging his fist and catching the corner of Jiro’s jaw, taking the Aradian by surprise.
Chuckling, Jiro worked his jaw back and forth but remained otherwise unaffected, talking as if he hadn’t just been punched. “Her blood is very powerful, Jack, and it’s still changing you. Now I understand why vampires avoid Breeders like the plague.”
Jack knew that her blood was changing him but the Aradian didn’t seem to be aware of how much it had already changed him. Despite himself, he was curious about the vampires and before he could think better of it, he blurted, “Why?”
“It’s like death to them,” Jiro explained, staring out into the night with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Just as becoming a vampire is like death to a human, only humans don’t have the instincts to stay away.”
“Vampires have the advantage of being extraordinarily beautiful,” Jack murmured absently. “I hated them because of what they did to my family but I still found them beautiful.”
“There is that,” Jiro agreed, acting as if he hadn’t just had his fangs in Jack’s throat. Turning his head, he looked at Jack with a serious expression, “Even if her blood turns out to be a cure, I doubt that we would have very many vampire volunteers because….”
“Vampires don’t think they’re sick,” Jack finished, remembering what it had felt like to be a vampire. “It had felt like life and the life I had before had been death. But now… now I know that a vampire is a slave to his maker. Will I be a slave to Malorie?”
Jiro’s lips quirked up into that half-smile again, “Haven’t you always been a slave to Malorie?” Not making Jack answer, he continued, “She doesn’t know, does she?”
Startled, Jack warily asked, “Know what?”
“That you gave up everything to stay with her,” Jiro said gently.
“I didn’t have anything left after the vampires wiped out my entire town,” Jack said defensively, his heart racing unexpectedly in his chest.
“You were eighteen years old with a full ride to UCLA,” Jiro murmured, his words tearing the flesh from Jack’s bones because he had forgotten. In his grief, he had buried everything and clung to Malorie and her father otherwise he would have drowned. Watching him carefully, Jiro continued, “If you want, we can arrange for you to go back to that life, though you’d have to have a new name, a new identity. And we’d also have to keep tabs on you.”
“Of course,” Jack huffed, his thoughts filled with the possibility of going to college. Yes, he was technically twenty-eight but he had the body of a twenty-two year old, the age he had been when he became a vampire. What would he study? What course could possibly compare to the life he had lived since he was eighteen and his entire world imploded? He had fought vampires. He had been a vampire….
“Or you could live here with us,” Jiro continued. “You would be allotted full access to our libraries, our knowledge. You’d be able to study anything and everything to your heart’s content or study nothing at all and just be Jack. The women here are beautiful and willing.”
“But they aren’t Malorie,” Jack said softly.
“No,” Jiro said simply. “But your son is here and I think you could have a strong relationship with Toby if you want.”
Jack nodded his head because he wasn’t ready to return to the real world yet despite his doubts about the wisdom
of staying. “Maybe.”
“You can earn an entire college education here,” Jiro continued. “Hell, you can get a PhD in any field of your choosing. You can take as much time as you need to figure out what to do with your new life.”
With that, Jiro simply vanished, an Aradian trick that still baffled the mind. Jack stayed on the bench, mulling the words over in his mind for a long time. Watching the stars in the night sky that seemed so much brighter so far away from civilization, he kept coming back to the only thing left of his world: Toby.
Swallowing thickly, he spent the rest of the night lost in thought.
Chapter 6
~Malorie~
Malorie knocked on the door: tap tap tap tap, pause for three seconds, tap tap tap tap. Looking over her shoulder, she regretted sending Scott the angel away. She should have asked him to stay until she was safely inside but then she would never have been admitted had her fellow soldiers seen the police car.
Bouncing on her heels, she blew her breath into her cupped hands, trying to warm them up. She had only been in the tropical islands for a few months but she had lived in southern California for a few years before that. It was apparent her blood had thinned enough that she could no longer tolerate the cold. Maybe if she had been in New York while the weather was changing it wouldn’t have come as such a huge shock to her system and she wouldn’t be so cold right now.
After what seemed like an eternity of standing in a sub-zero freezer, the door creaked open and a sliver of a face peered at her from the crack, the large brown eye narrowed with suspicion. “What do you want?”
“There’s blood in the streets tonight,” she said, glancing furtively about to make sure no one heard her even though she knew they were completely alone in the middle of abandoned warehouses. It was an old habit that had been ingrained in her and one that she obviously never lost.
“How much blood?” the man asked in a gruff voice,
“Just me.”
The door opened a little further and there was enough light that she could see him clearly. Despite being a few years older and not nearly as intimidating as he had been when she was ten, she instantly recognized him. With dark hair and dark skin, he had been the perfect Blade Soldier, blending with the night to take out the enemy. At just over six and a half feet tall and nearly three hundred pounds of aging muscles, he was surprisingly fast and incredibly smart. In fact, he had almost been a professional football player but an injury sidelined that option his first day of practice. “Bruiser.”
“Malorie?” He looked closer and as recognition lit his eyes, his expression melted into a warm smile. The door swung open and he held out his arms. “Little Malorie Hunter?
“It’s Sinclair now,” she told him, stepping into the giant’s embrace and hugging him.
“Saint’s alive, it’s been nearly fifteen years since I’ve seen you,” he boomed, his words rumbling through her. Pulling her into the warehouse and closing the door behind them, he faced her and asked, “You’re married, girl?”
“Widowed. Just before the end of the skirmishes,” she murmured. A look of sympathy flashed in his eyes but as a fellow Blood Soldier he knew the risks involved and wisely kept his mouth shut. Forcing a smile, she said, “But I have a son and I’m happy. What about you?”
“Same old, same old,” he said with a sad grin, leaving it at that. Pursing his lips, he narrowed his eyes slightly and asked cautiously, “Where’s your old man?”
Since there was no reason to worry the remaining Blood Soldiers, she breezily lied, “Father is off on some adventure or another.”
“I can’t believe he would leave his little girl behind,” he said with a healthy dose of doubt.
“I’m a grown woman, Bruiser, and a mother,” she told him with an amused smile. “I’m no longer a little girl.”
“Yeah, but your daddy rarely let you out of his sight while the two of you stayed here,” he reminded her, holding his arm out. “Except when he was out hunting.”
She conceded the point as she looped her arm through his and they walked through the empty space to the hidden rooms in the back. “Luckily he was out hunting most of the time.”
Bruiser’s smile was as warm as always and she suddenly missed her old life. Despite the difficulties and uncertainty, there had been such a strong bond between the Soldiers that she thought would never be broken. But she had been ten years old and hadn’t known any other life.
Pushing through the door that looked like it weighed two tons but in truth only weighed fifty, they stepped into the world of the Blade Soldier. Old maps still hung on three of the walls, displaying the locations and movements of known vampires, and weapons filled the gaps, from old stakes and swords to chains, crosses and holy water. Malorie never understood the need for holy water since it didn’t really affect vampires at all. Maybe it hadn’t been blessed by a holy man and had only been regular water. Empty coffee cups still littered the room, the life blood of a Soldier and a musty smell hung in the air, the scent of decay and sweat.
The office chair squeaked as Bruiser sat down and crossed his hands over his growing belly. Motioning to the other seat, he asked, “So, what brings you here?”
“Nothing much,” she prevaricated, sitting down in the old chair, grimacing as a spring poked her bottom. She hadn’t missed the worn out furniture at all. “A friend is watching my son for a few days so I’ve decided to check in on a couple of the outposts to see if there’s anyone left who still remembers why we came together in the first place.”
He grimaced as he nodded his head, “I hear ya. It seems a lot of the old soldiers are losing their way and buying into this vampire craze. I lost another man just last week.”
Malorie nodded her head in commiseration, guilt eating away at her because she had not only bought into the vampire peace, she was fucking the original vampire creator. “Has there been any action since the war ended?”
Shaking his head no, he smiled ruefully, “No. We’re just glorified babysitters now, patrolling the Open Feeds to make sure the fucking vamps keep in line. Our presence there is redundant because the vamps are always on their best behavior and that worries me. It’s as if they are lulling us into a false confidence and when the old guard is gone they’ll attack and no one will be able to defend themselves.”
“Yeah,” she said, agreeing with him because she had just experienced such an attack. They were smart to worry.
He was quiet as he silently assessed her, his expression a careful mask and the warmth from only moments before was gone. Sniffing, he murmured, “I heard you got yourself into a spot of trouble a few weeks ago, Mal. Care to tell me about it?”
Color flooded her cheeks but she nodded her head, “I was at an Open Feed that hadn’t been announced in advance. I was one of the unlucky donors.”
The gasp was overly loud in the quiet room and she wondered if she should have kept that to herself. But if she expected his cooperation, she needed him to trust her and that meant telling him most of the truth. Licking her upper lip, she continued, “He marked me and we were forced to run. Again.”
His eyes dropped to her throat and she automatically touched the spot that had born Feryn’s brand for a brief time. It had been nothing compared to the mark that covered half of her body now but at the time it had terrified her. Bruiser’s brows drew together as he raised his eyes and met her gaze once more, “What happened?”
“We ran until the mark wore off,” she hedged. “Of course we had to leave everything behind, which was much more difficult this time because I had gone soft and grown complacent. I had wanted so desperately to believe we could have a normal life, you know, for my son.”
“I understand,” he replied with a commiserating nod. Looking around the old war room, he heaved a sigh. “It’s hard to keep an edge when there hasn’t been a credible threat for six years. I’m afraid we’re all getting a little soft and one of these days, I’ll be the only one left and it will become even more difficult to remain
vigilant.”
“How many are left?”
“Maybe a hundred throughout the country and a few here in the city,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “And most of them no longer live the life. They commute, if you can imagine. The crew that is on tonight is out patrolling, though we’re basically just the neighborhood. It’s difficult because taking out bad guys is generally frowned upon when they’re human, no matter how deserving. Man, a lot of these guys would love to be the next Batman. Vigilante justice and all that shit.”
Smiling, she weighed the options of telling him about Aradians, about what her life had become. It would give the man hope and maybe that would be enough to let him have a life beyond that of a Soldier, should he ever decide that was what he wanted. Broaching the subject with care, she lowered her voice and almost whispered, “What if I told you that we have a powerful ally in our battle against the vampires?”
His body language abruptly changed as he leaned forward and looked at her with a mixture of interest and caution. “And who might these allies be? The police?” At her stunned silence, he huffed out a rusty laugh, “I saw the cop car drop you off, Mal. We’ve upgraded our surveillance cameras, adding more to the parking lot so one person can keep an eye on unexpected visitors. With our diminishing human resources we try to ease some of the burden on the ones who remain.”
She nodded, “Smart move but, no, I’m not talking about the police. There are other supernatural creatures out there, Bruiser, and not all of them appreciate vampires honing in on their territory.”
“So we trade one monster for another?” he asked skeptically. “That hardly sounds like a good plan, Mal.”
“You’re right,” she said, sorry she had even mentioned it. How could she expect Bruiser to understand something that she still struggled with and she wasn’t even fully human? “It’s just if we keep losing our men, wouldn’t it be nice to have an ally?”