“Can we just—” Her cell phone vibrated and she looked more than a little relieved as she retrieved it from her handbag. “Finally, I’ve got coverage.” The pale-blue glow from the screen illuminated her face as she read the text.
He moved toward her, but she turned slightly away from him and quickly fired back a response. When the phone buzzed with an answering message a moment later, Brenna gasped.
“What?” he demanded, trying to get a look at her phone, but she held it away from him.
“We’ve gotta go.” She glanced furtively into the woods behind them.
“Brenna, what the hell is going on?”
“My…my friend, Lily, says something’s really wrong at the party. Security is running around and guests are being asked to leave. When I told her about you, she told me to get you the hell out of here.”
Instinctively, he scanned the darkness again, but he saw nothing, heard only the drone of crickets.
He suddenly realized how strange it was that Brenna hadn’t asked him any details about how he had gotten here and why he was being held prisoner. If the situation had been reversed and it was he who had found her, those would’ve been some of the first questions he’d have asked her. Normally, she was one of those calm, take-charge-in-a-crisis types, asking questions methodically and taking down notes. You had to be if you wanted to work in emergency medicine—a specialty like that wasn’t for those who were high-strung and easily excitable. But she hadn’t asked anything of the sort.
“She’s meeting us out on the main road with her car. Evidently, it’s just over the next hill.” She tucked the phone back into her handbag, but it took her two tries to close it.
Seeing the terror reflected in her gold-flecked eyes, he wrapped his arm around her and searched the night again. Nothing. He changed his grip on the hatchet anyway in case he needed to throw it or use it as a weapon.
“Come on. Lily said she’ll be there as soon as she can. Lean on me if you need to.” Brenna led him through the forest, moving a little faster this time.
Something niggled at the back of his mind as they stepped over a downed tree. He wanted to pause again to catch his breath, but Brenna urged him on. Then it dawned on him. The night had grown noticeably quieter—even the crickets had fallen silent.
The hairs on his forearm prickled and he gripped the handle of the ax tighter. He had the distinct feeling that they were no longer alone.
And he was pretty certain Brenna knew it as well.
Chapter Three
“He’s shadow-moving,” Brenna hissed as her short nails dug into Finn’s arm. “Over there.”
Shadow-moving? What did that even mean? He couldn’t see anything, but he readied the ax as best he could anyway.
Movement flashed to the left. He shoved Brenna behind him just before something struck him hard, knocking him to the ground and sending the ax flying from his hand.
A weight fell on top of him—a man—and hands with the strength of iron grips closed around his wrists. Finn arched his back, thrust his weight to one side. Like hell would he let himself go down without a fight again. Especially not with Brenna’s safety on the line now, too.
Normally, he’d have grabbed his attacker’s left arm to knock him off-balance, then he’d hook his leg over and put him in a chokehold. But his reflexes and strength were shot. It felt as if he were swimming through mud.
“Run, Bren. Go for help.” She had to get away from this guy. Maybe Finn could keep him occupied while she ran down to where they were meeting her friend.
The man angled his head up and the moonlight glinted off his—
Fangs.
Just like his captor had.
Jesus! How many of these parasites are there?
“Get off him.” Brenna’s voice came from somewhere above him.
Goddamn it, she hadn’t listened. He needed to protect her from this monster.
But before Finn could react, the guy shifted toward the sound of her voice and struck her with what sounded like a closed fist. Brenna screamed and fell to the ground.
Anger instantly congealed in Finn’s veins, pinpointing his focus and infusing him with a surge of hidden strength. No one, not even a vampire, was going to get away with touching her like that.
With every ounce of energy he had left, he rolled sideways and kicked. He’d be damned if he’d let this vampire motherfucker do to Brenna what that sadistic monster had done to him back at the cabin.
But his foot didn’t connect with anything. Not only was he lightheaded from the blood loss, his depth perception was totally off and the chain weighted down his leg too much. It snapped around, merely glancing off his attacker.
On a good day, he’d have beaten the man senseless with his bare fists. Vampire or not. Kicked him into tomorrow with the heel of his combat boots. Sliced his kidney in half with a jagged-edged blade just as he’d done to that assassin in Kabul.
But not tonight. The prolonged blood loss over the past few weeks was a game-changer.
The edges of his vision started to darken, but he could’ve sworn he saw their attacker, his hands pressed to his forehead, fall backward onto the ground.
“What the—?”
Finn felt around blindly on the damp forest floor, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon before the guy attacked him again. All the while, his head continued to throb and spin, as if he had one wicked hangover.
“It’s the chain, Finn,” Brenna gasped, her voice seeming to come from right above him. “You got him with the chain.”
The chain? Through sheer force of will, Finn dragged himself up on one elbow. Wearing black military gear, his attacker struggled to push himself to all fours but wasn’t having much luck. Fangs, dual points that seemed to glow in the dark, hung from his gaping mouth, and blood dripped from his ear. Guess he’d nailed the guy after all.
“Wrap it around his neck or something.”
Finn fumbled for the end of the chain coiled around his leg.
“Just touch it anywhere on his skin.” Brenna’s voice was hollow.
Did she say to touch the guy with the chain? If he did anything with this chain, it’d be to wrap it around the guy’s neck all right, then jerk it tight till it snapped. If only he wasn’t so—
Movement above him drew his attention and a blurry Brenna came into view.
Blinking a few times, he saw that her lip was split open and a thin trickle of blood ran from her temple to her chin. He wanted to reach up and brush it away with his thumb, but his arms felt like stone. He had overexerted himself and had no more energy to expend.
Sliding over his torso, she straddled him backward. Like a masseuse, she bent his leg without any help from him and he was vaguely aware that the links of the chain jangled. Her dress was torn up the back, revealing lacy black panties and that small butterfly tattoo on her lower back, just to the left of her spine. He recalled how he’d often placed his thumb on the ink and—
Their attacker groaned loudly.
Finn turned toward the sound but couldn’t see much. Just the guy’s lower half, his heels digging into the forest floor for traction. Brenna was blocking the rest of him. Another groan, then silence.
“What’s happening, Bren?” he managed to ask. “I…I can’t see.”
She swung her leg back over Finn as if dismounting a horse. “We’ve got to get out of here. He’s weak and he’ll attack you if we don’t leave. Are you hurt? Can you move?”
Attack me? Not us?
Finn tried to push himself up, but it was no use. He had nothing left. Falling backward, he heard the leaves crackle beneath him.
“Go on without me.”
“Not a chance. Come on, Finn,” she urged.
He wasn’t sure if he was moving or not. He wanted to, but he couldn’t tell if the message was getting through to his arms and legs.
“This is the only way,” he thought he heard her say.
He didn’t have time to consider what that meant before
she cupped his face in her hands and her lips came down over his. She tasted spicy, as if she’d just chewed a piece of cinnamon gum. With no strength to slide his hands around her, he lay there, unmoving, just experiencing this kiss of hers as if the past month had never happened. Thank God for tiny miracles; his captor had allowed him the use of a toothbrush. Her mouth was soft against his, and—
That cinnamony, slightly coppery taste seemed to numb the back of his tongue. No, actually it tingled—not unlike how his mouth felt when eating kiwi fruit. But that had been a slight allergic reaction. This was…heaven.
He wrapped his arms around her, and when his hand touched the bare skin of her back, he slipped his fingers inside the tear in her dress. If the hole were any bigger, he’d have shoved his hand completely inside to cup her bottom and massage her curves. Not breaking the kiss, he found the strength to roll her over, automatically slipping a knee between her legs.
“Finn, stop,” she said against his lips, pushing on his chest with her hands.
He blinked, clearing the remaining haze from his brain. What the hell was he doing? He had to get them out of here.
Jumping up—how did he have the energy to jump when he’d felt half dead mere moments earlier?—he pulled her to her feet. “Are you okay, Bren? Does it hurt where he hit you?”
He gently pushed the hair from her face and pulled out a twig. An angry red mark had sprung up on her cheekbone where the bastard had clocked her, the blood on her lips now smeared from the kiss.
Absently, he licked his lip again and tasted cinnamon. Oddly enough, he wasn’t lightheaded any longer. The weakness in his muscles—gone. Good, because he was going to beat the shit out of the guy who’d done this to Brenna. In fact…
He looked around for the ax, confident that he’d be able to wield it just fine. If the guy got up and took one step toward her, Finn would swing and—
“We can’t waste any more time. I have no idea how long he’ll be out.”
She had a point. He’d get her out of here first, then come back to deal with Fangs later.
He glanced back at the guy curled in a fetal position a few feet away. A surge of pride licked up his spine. Somehow Brenna had done that to him. Sweet, kind-hearted Brenna. Who’d shoo houseflies out the open window rather than swat them dead with a newspaper. Who’d once captured a mouse in a live trap down in Finn’s basement and insisted he drive it out to the country to release it. He hadn’t realized she had such fight in her.
“What did you do to him? Clearly, he’s hurting way more than you or me. Got lead in your fist?”
Odder still, something was a little strange about the way their attacker was touching—or rather, not touching his neck. With his eyes pinched shut, his fingers trembled a few inches above his collar as if he wanted to claw at his throat, and he was making a weird choking sound.
“I took care of him, but it’s only temporary. Lily is waiting.”
Finn took a step closer to get a better look, then stopped dead.
The vampire had red marks on his neck from the chain. His skin was reacting to the silver just like Brenna’s had.
Finn turned and stared at Brenna through disbelieving eyes, his thoughts whirling.
Things suddenly seemed to get a whole lot clearer, niggling questions falling into place like metal filings on a magnet. Yes, everything was making sense now.
“Okay, but when we get on the road, you’ve got a helluva lot of explaining to do.”
Chapter Four
After they crested a slight rise, the land angled down to the road. Lily stood waiting for them next to her red Porsche, hands on her hips, legs shoulder-width apart. She’d gone from glam to kick-ass, Brenna noted, having ditched the cocktail dress for black cargo pants, a flak jacket and lace-up military boots. The only visual remnants of the evening were her updo and her dramatic cat’s-eye makeup.
Lily stayed only long enough to hand Brenna the car keys and to give Finn a quick but thorough once-over. She explained that another Guardian team was on its way. Lily would wait for them and they’d investigate just what was going on around the Westfalen estate.
Grabbing a heavy duty wire cutter from the trunk of her car, Lily explained that when she’d introduced herself to Mr. Westfalen, her Tracker senses had picked up a faint smell of Sweet on his breath. His personal assistant must have noticed something was amiss, because he quickly ushered her away from the old man and nervously changed the subject. Before she could ask him what was going on, one of his security men pulled him away and whispered into his ear.
Lily cut the shackle from Finn’s leg with a snap.
“Next thing I know, Creighton is wheeling Mr. Westfalen away and guests are being asked to leave. I tried calling and texting you, but you didn’t pick up.”
“My…my cell coverage isn’t good…out here.” Westfalen and his staff had done this to Finn? They kept blood slaves? It…just didn’t seem possible.
“Don’t go to your place or to his,” Lily cautioned. “We can’t be sure how big this operation is or what they know. They may be expecting that. Go straight to the field office—just hit the navigation button on the dash. I’ve called ahead so they know you’re coming. I’ll see you there when I return.”
Brenna and Finn climbed into the Porsche, Brenna behind the wheel. She maneuvered the car onto the quiet two-lane highway, careful not to kick up any gravel on Lily’s new car. They rode in silence for what seemed like an eternity. She still couldn’t believe that Westfalen and his cohorts had almost killed Finn. However, the evidence couldn’t be denied—he’d been imprisoned not far from the estate and Lily had smelled Sweet on the old man’s breath. Finn finally spoke, interrupting her thoughts.
“So you’re a vampire, too.” It was a statement, not a question. “And so is your friend.”
She wanted to deny it, but he’d seen too much. “Last time I checked, yes.”
“But not all of you are like those guys.” He wasn’t asking for an answer so she didn’t give him one. She was more like those men than she cared to admit.
“And have you always been one?”
“You mean, was I changed into a vampire at some point?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re called changelings and, no, I was born this way.”
“No shit?” He ran a hand through his hair. “How have vampires been able to live secretly among the human population? It’s not as if you’re holed up in some Transylvanian castle, only coming out at night to feed. Hell, you and I met in the produce aisle of a blasted grocery store. Surely someone would’ve figured out the truth by now.”
She smiled at the memory. He’d used the most ridiculous pick-up line ever that day.
While he examined the heads of lettuce two aisles away, she’d detected his scent and realized he was a sweetblood. Thanks to the medical training that had taught her to remain objective in all situations, she hadn’t found his blood nearly as tempting as she would’ve expected—her gums had merely tingled—but she hadn’t wanted to press her luck. She’d grab what she’d come for then quickly leave.
“So you like apples, huh?”
She must’ve been deep in thought because she hadn’t noticed he’d come up behind her. His flaxen hair had been short then—Army short—and mischief had sparkled in his eyes.
“Very observant,” she’d answered, selecting another from the large pyramid of apples and moving away from him.
He’d skirted a bin of potatoes and followed her. “I prefer oranges.”
“I’m happy for you.” Her tone was much more playful than she had intended and she’d scowled. “They’re two very different fruits.”
Before she knew what he was doing, he’d grabbed an apple from her cart and along with two of his oranges, he tossed them in the air, juggled them once, then put the apple back. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“As different as apples and oranges may be, they’re similar enough to work.”
Several hours later, her apple
s sat next to his oranges on the kitchen counter as they made love in his bed.
From day one, she hadn’t been able to resist his charms. Glancing at him now from the corner of her eye, she realized she still couldn’t.
She took a deep breath. “Humans have discovered our existence from time to time, and when that happens, their memories get wiped.”
A hand to the temple, a few whispered words. She could never do that to Finn, though. What a violation that would be. Oh sure, she’d done it to other humans on the rare occasions she’d taken their blood—they all did—but that was it. That was far less intrusive than clearing out memories that spanned weeks or months. Not only wasn’t she skilled enough, but it just didn’t seem right.
“Is that why you lied to me, Bren?”
She adjusted the rearview mirror, not wanting to make eye contact with him just yet. “You mean about not taking you back to the estate? I couldn’t—”
“No. I’m talking about when you told me you didn’t have time for a serious relationship. That your medical training came first.”
She hesitated. “Well, my training is really important to me.”
“Bullshit. You broke things off with me because I am who I am—a human. And you are who you are—a vampire.”
Her breath caught in her throat. It was true, but she’d never violated her people’s laws before, telling a human about the existence of their kind. Protecting the truth was a deeply ingrained habit.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. For obvious reasons, relationships between vampires and humans don’t make sense. Especially when one of them is—”
“A sweetblood?”
She nodded. He knew everything, then. About her. About him.
As the realization seeped in, she felt her shoulders relaxing, the grips around her insides loosening. She’d become so accustomed to keeping herself knotted up around him that it was a relief for him to finally knew the truth.
“Don’t look shocked, Bren. I know about Sweet. It’s an extremely rare human blood type that’s addictive to vampires because they find it extremely tasty. Like me with a rib-eye steak, only in this case, I’m the steak.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked broodingly out the passenger window. “That’s why you called things off between us, isn’t it? It wasn’t because you didn’t have time for a relationship, it was because you didn’t think we belonged together. Because you thought you might be dangerous to me.”
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