An overwhelming sense of gratitude engulfed me when my puke-soaked clothes were peeled from me. Even more so when I was cleaned with a wet cloth and wrapped in a sheet. But nothing compared to the taste of fresh, uncontaminated blood as it hit my dry mouth. The wrist smelled wild and beastly…
If I had not already figured it was Punch saving me again, his deep growl and big, heavy body on top of mine through the sheet would have been a giveaway. His weight was just right in making me feel grounded and his blood was so good. Too good. Soothing. Refreshing. Felt like it was sealing up holes the poison had created.
Then his teeth sunk into my wrist. I felt each pull all the way to the tips of my toes and fingers. He was sucking my blood, removing the poison. Saving my animated life.
Bonding me to Fire’s man.
Ahhhh. Relief for me. Pleasure for him.
I could tell he was fighting hard to refrain himself, but it was no use. He couldn’t prevent the hard-on or his increased pulse or breathing. Alas he gave himself over to the pleasure, rocked against my thigh and released his tension. Remaining still, I let him use me in gratitude for the gift he’d given me. I was too weak to move an eyelid anyway.
But I was gaining strength slowly. The blood transfusion was working.
He slowly disengaged his canines from my wrist then carefully removed his wrist from my mouth. Positioning himself next to me on the bed, he rolled me until my head rested on his massive chest. Then he hummed—would you believe—“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”. I listened as his breathing and heart rate gradually slowed and then the hand he used to stroke my hair grew still. The lullaby tapered off and he was asleep. Snoring.
I knew I needed to get up. Needed to finish my internet mission. Needed to get him off my bed and out of my room. But I just didn’t have the physical strength or mental willpower.
Finally giving up the fight against joining him in sleep, I relaxed my mind and let it go. Napping safely in his arms after a meal was tantamount to heaven at the moment. Especially since I wasn’t used to anyone caring so tenderly for me. I had done nothing to deserve this. Nothing to deserve his loyalty, his compassion. Yet, I craved it.
Another tender moment I could remember was Aaron keeping me safe from the sun even after I had hurt him. Aaron dropping his head to my shoulder and stroking slowly when he realized he was inside a woman for the first time. Aaron giving me a bouquet of roses, painting willow trees, offering his diary for me to read…
My sweet Aaron.
Thinking of him was a great distraction while I healed. Now that I had Punch’s blood, my body would heal itself. Thoughts of Aaron would heal my mind.
It had been an exhaustive experience. One I would not soon forget and never ever wanted to repeat. And as loving as my thoughts for Aaron were, I had nothing but contempt for one determined VET agent.
Maybe it was time to be proactive. Time to find out where that fucker lived. Find out who his family was. Do damage control like I did with Rafe and Cin.
Or maybe next time I saw him, I should just kill Agent Fucking Monroe’s ass on the spot.
Chapter 31
I was awakened by a disturbingly sharp object dragging down the side of my face yet instinct told me to lie still, make no sudden moves. Throwing my senses out, I assessed the situation, discovered I was in a heap of shit. The sharp object was a claw. The claw belonged to a wild animal. The wild animal was not Punch because I still lay on top of his slow-rising chest. And the wild animal was not in a friendly mood.
Awww fuck! It had to be Fire. Punch hadn’t locked the door.
I panicked.
But before I could leap up, the hand attached to the claw grabbed a handful of my hair. One strong tug and I went flying through the air, crunching into the concrete wall so hard I saw stars.
Then I heard the ugliest, loudest animal war cry I’d ever heard come out of the ugliest fucking animal I’d ever seen. The room was dark, but there was no mistaking the humongous eyes, pointy horns, red scales on a long, thick torso…and oh, shit—wings that were not fully extended! If I survived, I’d spend time pondering how the fuck her big ass fit through the door of my room. Quick guess—she transitioned to a red fire-breathing dragon after she caught me laying up with her boyfriend.
Speaking of fire-breathing—
“Punch! Puuunch!” I screamed as I dodged the first blast aimed at me by moving in a blur towards the door.
I had to get the hell outta here. I hadn’t escaped Monroe’s bullet and food poisoning to become a crispy critter so soon.
But as I reached the door, I caught a backhand from her huge, clawed hand that sent me back in the direction I’d just left.
Shaking my head of the daze, I screamed again, “PUUUNCH! Get your bitch!”
He appeared in front of me, his back to me, hands out at his side in that familiar non-threatening approach. He was trying to calm her down. Help her see reason.
Fuck that. Kill the bitch.
He wasn’t going to do that, but thankfully, he wouldn’t let her kill me either.
Once he saw logic wasn’t working, and she was rearing her head back to send another burst my way, he quickly grabbed me from the floor and leaped across the room out of the fiery path. Then he dropped to all fours, jerking, popping, expanding…and expanding some more until his clothes ripped and his long, black locks turned in to fur and spread over his whole gigantic body. His face elongated. His ears, hands, and feet too until a huge charcoal black wolf occupied the space where Punch used to be.
Just in time to pounce on Fire before she had a chance to light her torch again.
The large black werewolf was magnificent as it sprang up and forward, landing in such a way that sent them both rolling along the floor, slamming into the dresser.
Good thing the room was larger than my average motel room—another point for staying at Franco’s sanctuary. With only a bed, a nightstand, and one large dresser with a mirror, they had room to fight, though not much.
And good thing Punch was huge. He just may have a shot at handling her.
Except they ended with him on his back and Fire foaming at the mouth so bad, it ran from her fierce, snarling mouth to his face. He screamed with each drop, and each drop dissolved his skin. Apparently, her dragon saliva boiled like water and burned like acid.
His claws were wrapped around her neck, hers around his and neither looked like they were going to budge. If either used their teeth, the other would be fatally wounded. So that wasn’t the plan. The beasts were just making a show for dominance. They’d be dead-locked indefinitely if it wasn’t for her acid drips.
Maybe I should have ran when I had the chance instead of inciting her, but I couldn’t let Punch go out like that. Especially since he was defending me against the woman he loved after saving me several times already. “Get off him you red bitch!” I screamed as I jumped on her back and started pounding my fists into her skull.
She let out another horrible war cry but I didn’t let go. I’d pound a hole in her ugly head before I let her up and give her a chance to blow fire towards me again.
Pound, pound, pound…
Suddenly, I was air-born again. Only this time I didn’t smash into anything. I remained mid-air, levitating the way Max had done earlier. But I didn’t have that power. What the…
Then Fire was air-born. Next, Punch.
All the snarling and howling and screaming stopped. Time stood still.
A shirtless Franco, covered in tattoos, emerged from the doorway looking pissed. So pissed that he cursed in Spanish for a while before reprimanding us in English. “You goddamn, children! How dare you fight in my house. You are all guests here.” There was more Spanish cursing accompanied with hand gestures then more calmly he said, “Do NOT do that again. Ever. How many times must I say ‘we are all supernaturals and must stick together’. Huh? Whoever cannot live—or in your case, Willow, un-live—by that motto can get the fuck out of Hades right now. There’s the door.” He pointed to
it for effect.
We all looked like unhappily scolded children, none making a move to leave.
Tension began to ease from the room and I began floating back down to the floor. How the hell did he do that?
“Fire, I told Punch to care for her. Blame me.” She looked down at the floor, though I couldn’t tell if it was in shame or out of respect for Franco. He walked to her and patted her head. “Do not be jealous, my child. Her heart belongs to her maistre and whatever affections she’s capable of is bestowed on a human. And Punch only loves you, though his body responds as a man’s.”
Not sure I would have been able to calm down by now if I had seen Remi or Aaron laid up with another woman, but hey—whatever worked. Blood transfusions were intimate, but at least Punch and I had not had sex. And we were definitely not in love.
As Franco comforted her, smoke blew from Fire’s tennis ball-sized nostrils. Not able to stand the sight of her any longer, I looked closer at Franco’s tattoos instead. I’d never seen him without clothes, never knew how plentiful they were. They extended from his lower neck to all the way down to the base of his wrist where a shirt would cover him. My guess was they went even lower in to his slacks covering the lower half of his body.
The patterns were intricately designed with angles and colors and shapes, so much detail they looked like everything and nothing simultaneously. The more I looked, the more the patterns seemed to re-shape, re-form. Spelling out words, drawing pictures, showing faces. Oozing energy. How odd…
I leaned closer as a familiar set of eyes began forming. Sapphires so intense, so disarming, I reached out and ran my thumb across Franco’s skin where they appeared to beckon to me.
He jerked, dropped Fire and stood. “Never touch my tattoos,” he said icily.
But I’d already gotten a jolt of energy along with an image from his skin where it whispered to me. I’d already read the drawings, felt their essences…discovered his source of power.
Franco was not covered in merely ink. Each pattern told a story, held a history…a life. The sapphire eyes had belonged to Ivan as the rest of Franco’s tattoos belonged to other claimed souls.
My mouth gaped. “So that’s where…”
“Yes. That’s where I keep my souls,” he said.
Chapter 32
It had been one hell of an evening. Extraordinary events had transpired while just getting on the internet seemed like mission impossible. Would have to do that later since I had already spent waaaay too much time in the middle of Punch and Fire’s drama.
Or causing them drama, depending on how you looked at it.
But never mind them. According to the clock, too much time had already passed.
Leaving Franco to mediate insecurities and relational issues between Fire and Punch, I showered and dressed in a hurry. Other matters needed tending now that it was dark.
And I was feeling great! Punch’s energy soared through me like electricity. Whistling and humming were uncharacteristic of me, but here I was doing both along to the thumping beat as I walked through Hades to the back exit, out into the night air.
Ah, yes. It was good to be undead.
Once I picked up the medallion from Saybree, I’d mosey myself back over to Aaron’s, maybe make a deal with Remi so Aaron and I could pick up where we had left off. Yeah. Give him a shot at an orgasm of a lifetime. And since his place didn’t have fire-breathing jealous girlfriends on the loose, maybe I could give Remi’s proposal some consideration. We could at least talk about…
WHACK!
Never even saw it coming. All I knew was a huge, heavy object had slammed into the back of my head and I now had a mouthful of dirt and was hovering close to unconsciousness. Had Monroe and his Get Fresh crew come back for me?
Was it the same person or persons who had killed Ivan?
I hadn’t seen or smelled anyone. And since Punch and Franco were down in the basement, I was on my own.
I tried to get up. Somebody’s gonna pay for th…
WHACK! WHACK!
Okay. Nothing I could do about that. I saw a two-by-four drop to the ground next to my head, then it was lights out.
When I first awakened, I realized I was hanging upside down by chains binding my legs. My arms were bound too, behind my back and judging by how bad my skin was burning, the chains were silver.
Next, I realized I had the migraine from hell and someone was standing close by. And oh, yeah—I was naked.
Well, that made sense. As twisted as it was, I understood how obsessed some patrons could be. Evidently, this one wanted a little hanky-panky on the side. My performances weren’t gratifying enough. Fine. Hopefully, if I did everything asked, I would be set free soon.
“You know, I don’t have to be upside down to fuck you,” I said, my head throbbing with each word.
No answer.
“I know you’re there,” I said, opening my eyes to look around. Bright light made my migraine worse so I squeezed them shut again, but not before I saw the black boots and denim legs.
Still no answer.
“Please let me down. The fuck will be better if I’m comfortable. I’ll lie real still until you’re done.”
No movement. No sound. Just the steady beat of his heart—at least I thought it was a “he”. Boots were too big for a woman.
“You’ve got a nice rack, Sleepy Willow,” he drawled.
Definitely a “he”. And I thought I knew that voice. “So are you gonna let me down so you can suck on them?”
“I don’t think so.”
Yep. I’d heard the voice before. “Look, Mister. I don’t know what you’re in to but I specialize in necrophilia. If you want some dom/sub stuff, you should have taken Bloody Valentina.”
“You always call me Mister,” he chuckled. “My name’s Dario.”
Dario? Dario. I didn’t know a Dario. I called him Mister?
“Well, Dario, if you want some pussy, can we go ahead and get it over with? I have some errands to run before morning.”
He laughed heartily like I was Jerry Seinfeld doing standup. “Willow, I’m not interested in your pussy. Sorry to disappoint you.”
Wait a minute—that voice belonged to someone I’d called Mister. Someone who wasn’t interested in fucking and had hit me over the head and dragged me back to this…
“You attacked me in the club, didn’t you!” I said, angry as hell.
And frightened.
“Bingo. I knew you’d figure it out. Being a bloodsucker must make you smarter too.”
I blinked rapidly. So the silver chains weren’t by accident.
How did I keep finding myself in deep shit?
“You’re an agent?” I asked, surprised VET would have sent another agent after Monroe had been working so steadfastly.
“Nope. Try again.”
Left only one other type of person dumb enough to chase vampires. “Bounty hunter.” Which meant he could be bought. “Let me down and I’ll pay you whatever VET is offering.”
“I’m not interested in money either.” He had walked closer to me, his heart beating louder, but not faster. He was cool as a cucumber.
Meticulous. Deadly.
“What do you want from me, Dario?” The sinking feeling in my stomach told me Saybree had been right about this guy. You will see your attacker again. He will not stop until he captures you because his motivation goes beyond the bounty on your head, she’d said.
“Revenge,” he said quietly. “I want you to suffer the way you made my wife and child suffer and then I’m going to drain you and kill you just like you did them.”
What???
At least now I knew why I was upside down. Easier to drain my body from the heaviest end first. Easier to clean up too.
So far he had been calm, but I needed to see his face to gauge his emotions, to see whether he was rational enough to comprehend what I was about to say. “Listen to me, Dario. I have never killed anyone.”
“LIAR!” he yelled, slicing a blade ac
ross my body.
I yelled too. He was definitely NOT rational.
“You bloodsuckers are all the same. That’s what you do—kill, destroy lives. Never thinking of consequences because you’re soulless animals,” he said.
My thigh, groin, stomach, and underneath my breast all stung from the invasion and my blood ran down to the floor. He had cut deep, but I was full of Punch’s blood, his power. I could already feel the wounds healing twice as fast as they normally did. At this rate, I’d be completely healed in less than a minute.
Hope he didn’t notice since he was bent on making me suffer.
He sighed. “You’re healing much faster than I expected. You must have just fed from someone. I’ll have to go slower to make it last longer.”
He’d done his homework and was astute on vampire biology. Not good.
He put a picture on the floor underneath my head of a smiling blonde woman holding a child look-alike. “This is the family you took from me,” he sobbed.
Though familiar with Stockholm Syndrome, I felt no empathy. Nevertheless, I realized he was probably too overcome with pain, anguish, and loss to listen to me. I still had to try sounding genuine. “I’m sorry they’re dead, but I have never seen them before.” The last part was true.
“Denial is not going to make this any easier on you.”
He stepped away and I felt relieved.
Until I heard a drill. Sounded like a power saw.
Uh oh. Nothing good would come of having missing parts. Sure, they’d grow back, provided I wasn’t burned in the meantime, but it was still a bitch getting by without a finger or spleen…or vaginal lips.
I’d seen Max inflict that punishment before too. And that was only because one of his brides had said she was going to find a maistress to help her turn her brother into a vampire. At the time Max had not wanted any men in his clan. Once vampirism became illegal, he changed his mind and combined forces with a maistress vamp as old and as powerful as himself. When our clan doubled in size and strength, Max was pleased.
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