Blood Red Kiss

by Kresley Cole

  The effort would only make this better.

  For a few minutes he lost sight of her, but her scent was a beacon, thick with need. His body responded, heeding the primal call like the animal he was, and from out of nowhere, he found more speed.

  She slowed to slip under a massive fallen log instead of leaping it, which proved to be her fatal mistake. He sailed over it, landing just inches behind her. She yelped and bolted, zigzagging through a maze of ferns and spindly saplings, but she’d lost her momentum, and he hit her flank with a shoulder maneuver that spun her off her feet.

  Snarling, she wheeled around and bit him in the hip, tearing out a chunk of fur but not breaking the skin. If he’d been able to, he’d have smiled. She was playing rough, and he liked it.

  She lunged again, but he rammed her with his chest and knocked her back. Before she could recover, he crowded her, using his superior height and size to force her backward into a mass of brush and fallen logs, cornering her. Now he would have her.

  She growled, arguing with every step. Then, in an impressively quick, agile move, she leaped, twisted, and went over the logs.

  Clever girl. But she didn’t get far.

  He caught her a few yards away, this time bringing her down beneath him. She rolled onto her back and snapped at him, lips peeled back from sharp teeth. Gently but firmly, he closed his jaws around her throat, demanding her surrender.

  Heat rose from her, along with her mating scent, and his loins tightened. They posed there like that in a display of dominance he was going to win. She ruled his life and his heart, and he was putty in her soft, slender hands.

  But out here in the forest, with a wolf heart beating in his chest and the call of nature pounding through his blood, he was going to claim his mate. He waited for her signal, knowing she wouldn’t drag this out. She wanted this as badly as he did, and moments later he heard the swish of her tail wagging through the twigs and leaves on the forest floor, and she relaxed, submitting.

  And yet she still held all the power. The battle had been a test of worthiness for him, not the other way around.

  He released her, and she came to her feet, rubbing against him, flirting with him, inviting him. He’d earned the right to take her, and nothing would stop him now. Rearing up, he mounted her, seizing her scruff between his teeth.

  They’d mated in the forest before, pretty much daily, but always as vampires, never like this. He was attuned to everything around him, from the whirring of insects to the wind as it rustled through the trees. This was as basic and perfect as life got, and with any luck, they would make a new life today.

  Afterward, exhausted, they shifted back, settling against a tree full of squirrels that had gotten an eyeful. Lobo held Tehya against him, her head on his chest as he stroked her hair.

  “If you’d made that easier,” he said between panting breaths, “we wouldn’t be so tired.”

  She trailed a finger down his abs, leaving pleasant tingles in its wake. “Just for that, I’ll make it harder next time.”

  His cock stirred, taking the harder thing to heart. “You’re already thinking about next time?”

  “I’m always thinking about next time.”

  Sweet Maker, he loved this woman. He loved her even more when her hand closed around his rapidly swelling cock. Her fingers were magic as they slid up and down his shaft, nothing serious, just incredibly arousing foreplay.

  When she paused, he damned near whimpered. “Okay, I have a question. Making a baby while in a shifted form guarantees a skinwalker offspring, right? I mean, that’s why we did this.”

  “That’s what the elders said.” They’d also said that when a skinwalker died, he—or she—could manifest as a material spirit to haunt those who had wronged him. Being a skinwalker had some serious perks. Perks he wanted to pass on to his young, knowing that their lives would be considerably better than the lives of skinwalkers before them.

  “What if only one parent is a skinwalker?”

  He pressed his lips into her hair and inhaled the soft jasmine scent of the shampoo she’d gotten from Aylin. “Then they still have a substantially increased chance of having a kid who can shape-shift.” He paused. “But only if the parent who can shift is, ah, in the alternate form when the child is conceived.”

  She didn’t dwell on what that meant, thank goodness, because he didn’t want to either.

  “Well,” Tehya mused, “what if one person can shift only into, say, a cougar, and the other person can shift only into something like an elk?”

  This conversation was becoming less sexy and more wrong by the second. “You had to go there, huh?”

  Tehya laughed. “Aren’t we supposed to share everything? Even disturbing thoughts?” She bounded to her feet. “Come on. I want to run some more. And,” she said saucily, “I want you to catch me.”

  He let her go this time, giving her a head start. He didn’t shift until he heard her howl, and when he was done, he answered, sending his voice up into the darkening sky. A dozen voices howled in reply, each one distinct. Then Tehya’s call, pure and unique, joined in, calling him to her.

  This was life.

  And it was perfect.

  DARK SWAN

  Gena Showalter

  To the amazing Kresley Cole and Larissa Ione.

  The fun I had with you guys cannot be expressed with words—only interpretive dance.

  Good night, sleep tight,

  Wake up bright

  In the morning light

  To do what’s right

  With all your might.

  —A CHILD’S LULLABY, Author Unknown

  PROLOGUE

  All right, girls. It’s time to say good-bye.”

  Twelve-year-old Lilica Swan longed to tell Dr. Walsh how to die—badly—and when to do it—now. If she succumbed to the urge, and her voice voodoo operated at optimum levels, he would be compelled to obey her, unable to stop himself. But. If she succumbed to the urge, and her voice voodoo didn’t operate at optimum levels, he would only be compelled to beat her with an old cattle prod. Again. He loved to beat her with a cattle prod.

  Decisions, decisions.

  Her sister Trinity placed a gentle hand over hers, and Lilica sucked in a breath. Oh! The warmth and softness of another’s skin! But even as her body rejoiced, her mind reeled. Why would Trin touch her when the action was forbidden? Taking such a risk . . . well, it could only be a silent request not to use her voice voodoo. So. Decision made. Just like that.

  Lilica locked her jaw and pressed her lips together. She lived by a single rule: Do anything, anytime, anywhere for her sisters, no matter the consequences.

  At the moment, the three of them occupied a small monochrome room. Between Lilica and Trinity was a table piled high with massive tomes meant to raise their IQs. Each girl was supposed to read at least one book from start to finish in their allotted hour together.

  Later today they would be tested.

  Their other sister, Jade, stood in the far corner, banging her head against the wall. Poor darling. So desperate to escape her pain.

  Lilica had to hide a wince when the mirrored wall cracked. If the doctors discovered just how deeply she cared about her siblings . . .

  “Trinity,” Dr. Walsh snapped.

  In a blink, Trinity severed all contact with Lilica. “I’m sorry.”

  Lilica immediately mourned the loss.

  Her voice voodoo and myriad other alien superpowers probably weren’t functioning properly anyway. When did they ever? Dr. Strings, her personal tormentor—a.k.a. handler—shot her up every morning with . . . something. It kept her weak. She hate-hate-hated weakness.

  And the injection wasn’t even her biggest obstacle!

  Longing, desperation, and sorrow suddenly flowed through the bond she and the other girls shared, snagging her attention. Trinity’s emotions. The urge to hug her proved strong, but somehow Lilica resisted.

  “We’d like to stay together.” Trinity’s voice was as soft as the
honeysuckle scent she so often produced. A delicate scent completely at odds with the white-knuckled grip she now had on the table’s edge. “Just a bit longer.”

  Trinity had always been the calm, accepting one, her nature the perfect complement to her angelic beauty. Little Divine, the staff sometimes called her. With her blond ringlets, wide blue eyes, and pale skin, she was exactly what their creators had envisioned.

  Lilica was . . . not. But then, she was never supposed to have been born.

  The scientists who worked at the Institute of Otherworld Technology—IOT—had hoped to construct a single superbeing. Someone neither human nor alien but the best of both. Then the egg split. Into three.

  The girls had often been referred to as the Swans; hideous at first, but expected to grow into incomparable beauties. Not that appearance mattered . . . at first. The triplets had become instant commodities.

  Now, however, appearance mattered greatly. And Trinity and Jade had grown into beauties. Lilica alone remained the ugly duckling.

  Beauties attract. Beasts repel.

  The girls created through experiment had also been the focus of an experiment. Nature versus nurture.

  Trinity, the firstborn, had been awarded the exalted position of the positive. Jade, the second, had been dubbed the control. And Lilica, the last to be born, had been labeled the negative.

  Nurture had very clearly won.

  Jade mumbled, “Make it stop . . . stop . . . it has to stop.” One of her abilities allowed her to see the darkest desires lurking in the mind of anyone nearby . . . to see into the future as well . . . to know when those dark desires would be fulfilled. And despite the drugs that she too was given, the ability never switched off.

  Bang, bang, bang. Hair the color of newly fallen snow danced with the movement, the tresses a perfect contrast to her gorgeous green skin—the reason for her name. Although, most of the staff called her Little Delirium. The crazy one.

  Better than Lilica’s nickname, she supposed. Little Wicked. The evil one.

  Dr. Walsh sighed. “Trinity, my dear. I know you merely pretend to read while you and your sisters are together. You stare at Lilica, and she stares at you. It’s a waste of valuable time. Especially when you have important work to do.”

  Anger pricked at Lilica. Anger she knew her sisters experienced through the bond. Work to do, he’d said. People to devastate, he’d meant.

  Trinity could steal superpowers, whether those powers belonged to a human or an alien. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Lilica could amplify superpowers. A curse disguised as a blessing. She had yet to encounter a physical body able to survive the intense surge of energy she unleashed. Within seconds, a person’s respiratory and circulatory systems shut down. Within minutes, every other system followed suit.

  And . . . Lilica liked that part of her life. She liked being in control. Liked the display of her superior strength. Perhaps the real reason the doctors considered her the evil one.

  Trinity pressed her hands together, forming a steeple. “Please. Let me stay with my sisters just a little longer. Afterward, I’ll work harder than ever. I promise. Please,” she repeated.

  —What are you doing?— Lilica mentally screamed at her. When you begged, you revealed a weakness to be used against you.

  Here, someone always used your weaknesses against you.

  Dr. Walsh offered Trinity an indulgent, adoring smile. “Schedules are important to maintain. You know this, Little Divine.” He paused, tilted his head. “I think you’re old enough to be called Lady Divine now.”

  The light in Trinity’s eyes dimmed as her sense of depression magnified, overshadowing every other emotion arcing across the bond.

  Dr. Walsh cupped her shoulder, causing Lilica’s stomach to twist. “Besides, separation from your sisters is necessary. What if your ability adversely affects Little—Lady Wicked, or vice versa? What if Lady Delirium adversely affects you both?”

  Jade could both steal and magnify, but only at a much lower level.

  “I don’t want to hurt my sisters,” Trinity said, head bowed. —I’m happy when I’m with you. Without you, I’m not whole.—

  The words were spoken directly into Lilica’s mind. The words were spoken directly into Jade’s mind as well, despite the mental onslaught she already endured; she wrapped her arms around her middle and stilled at last, the internal conversation distracting her.

  Dr. Walsh inhaled sharply. “Why did she finally stop? Are you speaking with her telepathically? Answer me!”

  Silence.

  Everyone suspected the Swans possessed the ability, but no one had ever been able to prove it.

  “We won’t hurt each other,” Lilica said. She would rather die! “You are a liar, Dr. Walsh, offering flimsy excuses to keep us apart.” To keep Trinity all to himself . . .

  Lilica’s stomach twisted harder.

  Dr. Walsh shuddered at the sound of her voice.

  Despite her anger, every word she uttered contained a musical lilt, as if she were singing a dark, haunting lullaby. He should have been used to the phenomenon by now. Even when she’d cried as an infant, she’d seemed to be singing.

  “We are stronger together, and it scares you,” she continued. “You fear what we can do.” In fact, she was certain the staff would have kept all three girls in different cities if daily contact hadn’t been so vital. Without a glance, a smile, or a conversation, the triplets began to shut down.

  “One more word out of you,” he said through gritted teeth, “and you will be punished.”

  Never beg, never break. Never back down. “One. More. Word,” she said, her eyes spitting hate at him.

  Trinity gasped with horror.

  —I want you happy always.— If Lilica had to deal with a punishment so Trinity and Jade could stay together, she would. To her, no one else mattered. Her sisters were the only people who cared about her well-being, the only people who understood her pain.

  Perhaps things would have been different out in the real world. But besides the staff at IOT, the only other living beings Lilica had ever interacted with were criminals who were being used as lab rats.

  A superbeing must hone her most lethal skills somehow.

  “Very well. You’ve earned your punishment.” Dr. Walsh waved toward the door. “Trinity. Jade. You have five seconds to walk out of this room.”

  So much for keeping them together.

  The girls remained in place, unwilling to leave Lilica to her fate.

  “Now you’ve lost dinner privileges,” he snapped. “Continue to defy me, and you’ll miss breakfast as well.”

  He planned to starve her sisters? Lilica’s anger sharpened into a nearly uncontrollable rage. She drew in an unsteady breath—calm, remain calm—and gazed anywhere but Dr. Walsh’s direction. She tried to avoid her reflection, too. An impossible goal. The small room had six mirrored walls, forming a hexagon of two-way glass around her.

  Better to observe you with, my dear.

  She was a thorn among roses, as dark as her sisters were fair—with a heart to match. Or so she’d been told by the staff.

  You are the true beauty, both Trinity and Jade had often whispered to her. We pale in comparison.

  Now Trinity remained fixated on her, ignoring Dr. Walsh, who’d reached into the pocket of his lab coat. No need to guess why. He had a syringe filled with happy juice.

  He’d been around since the beginning and considered himself an expert on all three Swans. He wasn’t, not even close, although he did recognize the signs of impending doom.

  —Go with him.— She would survive. —I’ll be fine.—

  “No breakfast,” Dr. Walsh announced, his voice lashing like a whip. “Next, you’ll receive ten lashes, same as Lilica.”

  —Go!—

  A muffled sob escaped Jade, but she stepped away from the wall.

  Trinity jumped up, tears welling in her crystalline eyes. “I’ll . . . I’ll take the lashes for Lilica. Please. Let me. I’d be so grateful to
you, Dr. Walsh.”

  Lilica’s heart attempted to burst from her ribs; anything to escape this terrible moment. While her mind couldn’t decipher the sudden light in Dr. Walsh’s eyes, her heart could. It screamed, No! Never!

  She would die before she allowed Trinity to be hurt or, worse, indebted to the doctor.

  She stood and faced Dr. Walsh fully, a demand for his attention. He gave it . . . and he gulped, his beard bobbing with his Adam’s apple. Then he looked away. No one but her sisters had the stones to peer into her black-as-night eyes for longer than a few seconds. Her eyes were a never-ending pit of despair . . . a midnight sky without stars, an orderly had once told her. An expanse so vast that anyone who stared too deeply for too long became lost, never to be found.

  “I hate you with every ounce of my being,” she said.

  He shuddered again. Like all the doctors here, he wore special earplugs whenever he was around her. An obstacle, but not a dead end. The device was a filter, not a block, able to dilute her voice voodoo but not mute it.

  “Your feelings are of no concern to me, and your defiance has earned you another ten lashes.” He approached her, lifting the syringe from his pocket.

  She clutched his wrist, knowing contact would strengthen her ability, and shouted, “Be still.” She pushed every ounce of her power into her vocal cords.

  He obeyed instantly.

  Excellent! Optimum levels!

  Elation joined her rage. But . . . any second, orderlies would burst into the room to grab her. She would be pinned to the ground, Dr. Walsh’s needle shoved into her neck. Hours later, she would wake up in her room, bound to her bed, vulnerable to whatever new abuse these people wished to inflict upon her. But she didn’t care.

  Threaten my sisters and suffer.

  “Lilica—” he began. Sweat dotted his brow, and the pungent scent of fear wafted from him.

  “Be silent,” she commanded, and again he obeyed in an instant.