by Lucinda Dark
Maverick's gaze kept resting on me, on her, and it took every remaining ounce of resistance to keep from turning and slamming my fist into his face. He offered? He offered to take what was not his. Mine. She was mine. My mate. Mine to claim. Mine to take. Mine to protect.
I drew my breath in and out, hissing through my teeth as Barbie shifted, her head falling to my chest as she finally succumbed to slumber. Her breasts pushed against me, scrambling my focus.
She hadn't seemed to be in any pain, but was the alcohol dulling her senses? When she woke, I had no doubt the same pain she'd been in days ago would resurface. The vials from Esperanza were sure to run out in a matter of days. Not weeks. The stronger Barbie's power, the more she'd burn through the temporary reprieve.
I wondered, though, if giving her more of my blood wouldn't solve that issue. Would it counterbalance the demon's hold on her? A vampire against a demon. Was it possible? I glanced down at her face, hidden against my chest. It was worth the risk, I decided.
Maverick pulled up outside of the house and I didn't wait for him to put the car in park. I used my supernatural speed to get from the car to the house in the blink of an eye, only stopping at the front door out of respect. Unlike other vampires, my half human heritage didn't require me to be invited in.
Maverick hurried to my side, opening the door and once again, I used my speed to get up the stairs. I moved through the familiar hallways that I hadn't seen in years and followed the scent of Barbie to the room that held the strongest essence of her. It looked like a children's princess bedroom. Pink. Frilly. Nothing at all like Barbie, but definitely like Beth McKnight.
I shook my head and stopped at the side of the bed, gently setting her down so as not to wake her as I pulled the covers back and situated her comfortably. I cast my senses out to see how far behind Maverick was. Other than his heartbeat and Barbie's—there were no others in the house. Beth and Jon were out.
I lifted my wrist to my mouth and my fangs extended, my vampire rising. A small bite, twin holes from which my blood rose forth, sliding down towards my palm as I leaned down. Using my free hand, I angled her head up and pressed the open wound to her mouth. Just a few drops.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I ignored Maverick's angry question as I let a few more dribbles slide past her lips. He stalked forward, his footsteps heavy on the floor. Before he could reach me, I pulled back, licked my wound closed and whirled on him, shoving him back. He'd apparently gone to retrieve another t-shirt.
I clenched it in my fist and growled at him. "Not in here," I said, my eyes flashing red.
His gaze narrowed and he reached up, his fingers encircling my wrist. I let him break my hold. There was no way he could if I had decided to keep him there.
Jerking his chin behind him, Maverick gestured towards the hall. We left the room, closing the door softly behind us despite the tension building like an avalanche waiting to be released. The destructive power of my fury and his responding defensiveness would tear us apart if I let it. I leashed my vampire, reining the beast in. If I truly let the monster out to play, Maverick would end up dead. And as angry as I was, I'd regret murdering him. At least, my human half would regret it. My vampire, on the other hand, was all for it—regardless of our past together.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Maverick hissed, shoving at my chest as soon as we were out of hearing distance of Barbie's door. "You gave her more blood? Without her fucking permission?"
It didn't matter if I had her permission. She was ours—my vampire and mine. Our mate should share in our blood, especially if it made her stronger. If it kept her from unbearable pain.
In a distant part of my mind, the still logical part, I recognized these thoughts were not my own. They were that of my vampire. Never in my life had the creature been so present, so invested in my life, but now—with Barbie so near—he was riding me hard. I had thought that coming back from the tortures Eloise had inflicted would see me settled. Coming back, seeing Barbie, would transition me back into the man I'd been before, but a change came over me. Irreversible. Darker. My vampire melding with my human half more so than ever.
Maverick shoved me again. "Say something," he growled.
I lifted my head and stared at him. "You had no right to offer for her." The words were carefully spoken, drawn out and each syllable enunciated to perfection. Control. Complete and utter domination over my vampire was the only way I could do this without killing him.
Maverick's fists clenched. I saw the punch coming. I didn't move. I didn't back away. I didn't dodge. His knuckles slammed into my jaw with enough force that it snapped my head to the side. He put everything into that punch. All of his anger. All of his strength. And still, all it did was move my head—rotate it a few inches. I turned back, relishing in the tingles of blood rushing to the area, healing the bruise before it even formed.
I looked up at my old childhood friend. His chest rose and fell in sharp jerky movements, his eyes were blown wide, his nostrils flaring with the vigor of his emotion. I shook my head slowly and rose to my full height. Just in strength alone I was the more powerful opponent, the most dangerous. Had I been human, it would have been him. He was wider—broader where I was lean and sinewy. But looks did not matter. Muscle did not matter. I would win a fight between the two of us. There was no doubt. No competition.
I moved so quickly, he didn't see it coming. I shoved him back against the wall, blocking a punch with one arm while pressing my other forearm against his windpipe and slowly lifting him until his feet no longer touched the ground, making his fight rather difficult. Our faces were so close, I could see the beads of sweat sliding down over the pores of his skin. Still, there was something unique to Maverick. Despite the fact that I knew my eyes were eerily red, hunger and ire coloring the irises in the tone of freshly spilled blood—he felt no fear. There was adrenaline, for sure, but the acrid scent of dread and panic didn't waft from his skin.
He struggled against my grip, cursing and thrashing, his eyes widening until the whites were prominent. Finally, he settled, but only because I was pressed so tightly to his windpipe that any more grappling would see it crushed.
"You fucking asshole," he cursed, wheezing for breath under the pressure of my forearm. "She wouldn't have wanted it, you know that."
Yes, he was correct. Barbie would likely be furious with me, but her fury I could handle. Her pain, I could not. "I did what needed to be done," I said simply. "If my blood can stave off the pain of her power, then so be it."
"You'd let her hate you? You just took her fucking choice away!" He began to struggle anew and I released him, stepping back quickly. Maverick's feet hit the floor and his knees buckled, sending him down to the ground before me. I didn't move as he coughed and got back to his feet. "Do you think she'll forgive you for this?"
I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. I did what was necessary."
"What the fuck is with you?" Maverick glared openly at me, practically vibrating with his fury. It darkened the color of his eyes and resonated through his body. "You've been fucking off ever since you came back from fucking England. What the fuck happened to you?"
I blinked as a flash of dark rooms and manacles shot through my mind. Slamming the door closed on the memories, I turned towards the end of the hallway. "I'll be back in the morning to check on—" A hand snagged my arm, stopping my momentum. I paused, glancing back, one eyebrow inching upward.
"It's not like you to be such a fucking coward, man."
Carefully, so as not to break every bone in his hand, I removed his grip from my arm and pivoted back towards him, stalking forward. His instincts had to be screaming at him to back away, to run, but he didn't. No. Not Maverick. Perhaps, that was the reason we'd been friends for so long. All others my vampire had sneered at so I'd kept my distance but not Maverick. I hadn't distanced myself from him until his very existence had been threatened by my family. I had gotten too attached to one of the cattle. He was a pet in their mind, and pets
were as much food as domesticated farm animals were to humans.
Maverick was different, though. He fought against his instincts. He overcame them. It was a credit to his character. Brave. But also very stupid. I could crush his skull with one truly unleashed hit. I could break his arms and legs like they were nothing but slender twigs beneath my booted feet. He was strong for a human, but for a vampire—even a dhampire like me—he was weak.
He didn't back up as I leaned forward, my mouth close to his. "She's mine," I whispered, a threat, a warning.
And perhaps it was a testament to who he was, but he didn't flinch when I pulled back and bared my fangs. He blinked, slow and measured and spoke with just as much conviction. "Not if she doesn't want to be."
I didn't reply but turned back towards the stairwell and this time he didn't stop me. I didn't ask for a lift back. I wouldn't need it. The night air in my lungs as I stepped outside made me lift my gaze to the sky. His tenacity. His unwavering determination had drawn me to Maverick McKnight, but in the face of my vampire's mate—I could not back down. I would not. But in my blackened, half-ruined soul, I knew that if she gave him an inch, neither would he.
Chapter 18
Barbie
I woke with a pounding headache and an even deeper ache lower on my body. I nearly puked when the sunlight streaming in through my bedroom window hit my eyes. With a groan, I threw my arm over my face and rolled to my side, coming to an abrupt halt when my other arm refused to come with me. I looked up and up some more, frowning when I saw that one of my wrists was tied to the headboard with a scrap of fabric, a scarf it looked like.
“Morning, Princess.” I looked up as Maverick opened my door and leaned against the frame, watching me.
“Mav,” I said. “Why am I tied to my own bed?”
He grimaced, closing his eyes on a huff of air before opening them and fixing them on me. “I wanted to make sure you would stay put after you went to sleep,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I blinked at him. Already the ache began to crawl up into my limbs, but it wasn’t painful, just present. I darted my gaze to the side where my bookbag lay half-hidden beneath my desk. If it wasn’t painful…
“What do you remember about last night?” Mav asked, coming farther into the room. He stopped just a few inches shy of my bed and crossed his arms.
I tried to think back. I’d been at Olivia’s birthday party. I knew that much. I’d been drinking, avoiding Maverick and Torin, and then…
We had so much fun! Satrina took the opportunity to remind me as vague memories of the night began to resurface. Not all at once, but small integral parts that had my eyes widening.
“I nearly jumped off the fucking balcony…” I didn’t know if I was answering Maverick, Satrina, or just saying the reality out loud as if that would make it make any more sense. After several more heartbeats of stunned horror, I finally struggled up as much as the fabric tied around my wrist would allow and stared at the man at the foot of my bed, blinking when a new figure appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray laden down with food.
“Glad you’re awake,” Torin said as he came around Maverick and set the tray down on the end of my mattress before striding to the headboard. As he tugged at the binding on my wrist, careful to keep our skin from touching—I narrowed my eyes at that suspiciously—he kept his eyes centered on his task.
“What…” I stopped myself, closing my eyes as I rubbed my freed wrist and then through gritted teeth, I spoke again. “What happened?” I asked. “What exactly did I do? I mean, other than the balcony leaping attempt?”
Torin moved to join Maverick at the foot of the bed and for the first time, I noticed that they tensed whenever the other drew near. Torin looked like he’d just stepped out of a shower, his wet hair hanging low and upon closer inspection, he was careful to keep his gaze off Maverick. When he turned his head to scoot the tray closer to me, he revealed the shadow of a bruise on his jawline, but of course with his dhampire healing, it looked several weeks old despite the fact that I knew he hadn’t had it last night when I’d seen him—before my memories grew blurry.
I shifted my attention to Maverick. He, too, kept his gaze off Torin as much as possible. However, going by how he tensed whenever Torin drew near, he was more than aware of the other man's presence. "Okay," I finally said. "Someone needs to start talking." I slid my legs out from beneath the covers and paused, looking down to realize that I was wearing one of the shirts I'd seen Maverick wearing before. "And why the hell am I in your shirt?" I snapped, jerking my gaze up to them.
"You took off your clothes," Maverick said.
A groan bubbled up from my throat. For fuck's sake, are you fucking kidding me? An echo of laughter was all I got in response from the bitch who'd definitely had some fun last night. "Right..." I scooted the sheets back over my bare legs. "Talking," I repeated. "Start doing it."
"Do you feel any pain?" Torin asked.
I blinked, startled by the question, but a quick run through of my body told me I wasn't. I shook my head in answer. Maverick's lips tightened. My eyebrows inched higher. "Why?"
"Because he gave you more of his blood last night and he wants to know if it's helping with your pain," Maverick answered. For the first time, he glanced at the other man. The look was anything but friendly.
My mouth dropped open. Blood. He'd given me more blood. I turned accusing eyes on Torin. "I thought we had a fucking understanding," I said through tight lips and gritted teeth.
"Not where your safety is concerned," Torin replied.
I couldn't believe his fucking audacity. There was no shame, no regret in his stance. I tilted my head to the side. "You shouldn't have made that decision without asking me," I said.
Torin's eyes met mine. "I'd do it again."
"No the fuck you will not," I growled, my fists clenching in the sheets. "My fucking body, my choice."
"But it's not your body anymore, now is it?" he shot back, scowling. "You let a demon inside and you're suffering for it. I won't have you suffer, Barbie."
"It's my choice!" I threw back the covers and stood up, storming up to him. Even if he was several inches taller and half-vampire, I'd killed actual vampires. I had no fear. I shoved against his chest and raised a finger, pointing it at him. "If you ever fucking do something like this again, I won't forgive you. I'll slice your fucking head off, do you understand?"
Steel rose from the depths of his eyes growing redder the longer he stared at me. His vampire was rising to the surface, but I didn't back down. I kept his gaze. I held it. "Do what you must," was all he said.
Maverick must have sensed the impending explosion because he chose that exact moment to step between us, cutting off our stare down. “I know you’re pissed,” he said quickly, directing my attention elsewhere, “and you have every fucking right to be.” He paused and shot another glare behind him at the man who stood as still as a statue, unrepentant. It made me want to fucking punch him in his dick. I balled my fist as if I were preparing to do just that, but once again Maverick stopped me. “We have another issue we have to talk about.”
That must have been news for Torin as well. He stepped around Maverick until we stood in a circle—two fully dressed men and one girl in nothing more than her underwear and a man’s t-shirt. I turned away and headed for my closet. As if sensing my intentions, neither of them followed or looked my way as I ducked into the small walk-in and changed out of the t-shirt and into a pair of jeans and a tank top.
When I came back out, Maverick was pulling a packet of papers out that had been folded and stuck in the flap of his back jeans pocket. He opened them and laid them on the end of the bed, spreading his fingers over them to stretch out the creases. I bypassed the tray, snatching up a roll from the plate as I looked over his shoulder. My headache was still present, though lessening even more as I focused on other things. I picked up the first page and began reading.
“What’s this?” I asked. It was a list of names, none that I recogni
zed. Beside each name was a corresponding date. The dates were spread out at first but grew closer and closer together as I read farther down the list until there were several names with the same date.
“That’s a list of what I suspect are homeless victims of a rogue vampire about an hour or so from here.”
I looked up. “You’re sure?”
Torin stepped forward and retrieved the list. “What else do you have?” he demanded.
Maverick stiffened but reached for the other papers and began spreading them out on the end of my bed, pushing the tray farther up as I finished off my roll. “I believe the vampire is hiding out in this warehouse.” He pointed to a grainy black and white picture of a crumbling building with windows high up on the second and third floors, several broken from the looks of it. I picked it up and took a closer look. Vampires—well, vampires not like Torin—couldn’t stand sunlight. Windows would be a problem for them.
“Why do you think they’re here?” I asked.
“According to the blueprints I looked up, there’s a basement.” Maverick reached for the pile of papers and filed through them until he found one with a black and white blueprint and held it out. I took it, casting him a curious look.
“How’d you get all this?” I asked.
Maverick pressed his lips together, but I caught the curling at the edges. Was he … smiling? No. Maverick McKnight didn’t fucking smile, but he was certainly smirking. “Most of it was public knowledge, the names, however … those were records from the police department of that area. I managed to hack into their database and download that,” he said.