Blood Lust

by Alexandra Ivy

  She dug her nails into the muscles of his shoulders. “I don’t sleep with my recruits.”

  His lips twitched at her protest.

  Hell, she was nearly climbing up his body in an effort to get closer.

  “Then I quit,” he countered, his hand lowering to squeeze her ample ass.

  She gave a low groan of pleasure. “What?”

  “I’m a believer in our cause, but I’m willing to trade my immortal soul for an opportunity to warm your bed,” he assured her.

  “I might consider your offer once. . . .” She pressed her hips forward and Kaede hastily moved back.

  He didn’t want her to discover his lack of arousal.

  “Once?” he prompted.

  Her lips parted, but before she could speak there was the sound of a door opening and a male voice floated across the pool.

  “Stella?”

  With a muttered curse, Stella wrenched herself out of Kaede’s arms and sent him a frustrated glare.

  “Return to the barracks.”

  Kaede glanced toward the house, jolts of alarm racing through him. Although the male remained lost in the shadows of the house, he’d caught the unmistakable prickles in the air.

  “You already have a lover?” he rasped, disguising his shock behind a pretense of annoyance.

  Stella thinned her lips, giving him a sharp shove. She clearly didn’t want him knowing she wasn’t alone in the massive house.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Then go away,” she commanded.

  “I won’t be far when you’re ready for a real man,” he assured her as he casually strolled away.

  Kaede forced himself not to look back as he rounded the corner of the house, his hand already reaching for the phone he’d tucked in his pocket. He didn’t know what game Stella was playing with the Brotherhood, but there was one thing he was certain of. . . .

  Her male companion was a high-blood.

  * * *

  Stella struggled to contain her explosion of fury as she marched toward the house.

  Not only had Peter risked exposing them both, he’d interrupted her very enticing encounter with the scrumptious Kaede.

  Dammit. It’d been years since she’d been in a position to take a lover who was more than a tool in her obsession for power. Now that she was near to achieving her goals, she wanted to savor her success. Starting with a few sweaty nights in bed with the new recruit.

  Instead she was stuck dealing with a moron whose idea of foreplay was a fumbled kiss and trying to get his cock in her before he came.

  Stepping through the open door, Stella placed her hand in the center of the man’s chest and gave him a violent shove.

  “I’ve told you never to leave my private rooms,” she hissed. “If one of the Brothers discovers I have a freak as my personal companion they’ll kill both of us.”

  A petulant expression settled on Peter’s chubby face. “Your phone was ringing. I thought it might be important.”

  Shit. She’d left her phone next to the bed when she’d decided to enjoy her dinner by the pool. The last thing she’d expected was to be distracted by the sinfully sexy Kaede.

  “You have to be more careful,” she muttered, brushing past her unwelcome companion to head toward the nearby staircase.

  Peter scurried to keep pace. “Who was that man?” he asked.

  She grimaced at his hot breath on the back of her shoulder, climbing the steps at a brisk pace.

  “A new recruit.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “What does it matter?” she snapped.

  “There was something strange about him,” Peter groused.

  Stella rolled her eyes as she reached the upper landing and turned to head into her bedroom. Where Gilbert had tended to be a blustering bully, this high-blood whined like a child.

  “There was nothing strange.”

  “There was,” Peter insisted, trailing behind her as she crossed to pluck her phone off the nightstand. “I can’t put my finger on it. I just don’t trust him.”

  “You’re being a fool.” She dismissed his concern, far more interested in the missed call.

  The number belonged to Roy. The Brother she’d sent to capture the clairvoyant in France.

  “He was touching you,” Peter continued to press, too stupid to realize he was doing nothing more than digging his own grave. “I should have—”

  “Be very careful, Peter,” she warned in icy tones, pressing the CALL button on her phone. “You’re standing here because I put a knife in Gilbert’s back. If it wasn’t for me you’d still be locked in that cage.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. Predictably he disliked being reminded he’d been a helpless victim until she’d decided he could be of use.

  “I know what you did for me.”

  “Then understand you have no rights over me or my body. Not now, not ever,” she said, holding his gaze before she deliberately turned her back on him as she concentrated on the voice that eventually picked up her call. “Do you have her?”

  Chapter Nine

  Myst knew before she opened her eyes that something was wrong.

  It wasn’t just the fuzziness that clouded her brain. Or the leaden lethargy that made it impossible to move her muscles.

  It was in the malevolent vibrations that filled the air.

  Careful to remain perfectly still, Myst absorbed her surroundings. She was lying on a low, uncomfortable cot in some sort of small structure. A cottage, maybe. She could catch the scent of a thatch roof. Outside she could hear the sound of the muted conversations of several males. At least a dozen. Probably more.

  And unnervingly, there was the unmistakable stench of an unwashed human who was standing directly over her.

  He intended her harm. She could feel it in her very bones.

  Dammit. She’d been careless for the first time since climbing out of that mine shaft. Sitting in the SUV, she’d been concentrating on the farmhouse instead of keeping watch on any intruders trying to sneak up on them.

  She’d let down her guard and now she was in the hands of her enemy.

  Grimly, Myst battled through the fog in her mind, preparing herself to strike out. She was more than capable of dealing with a human even if she wasn’t as strong as a Sentinel . . . or an assassin.

  Oh Lord.

  Her heart gave an abrupt squeeze as she was abruptly reminded of Bas. Where was he? She’d heard the shot before she’d been attacked. Was he injured? Or captured?

  Dangerously distracted, she dwelled on her dark thoughts until they were interrupted by the sound of a door opening and loud footsteps crossing the wood-planked floor.

  “What are you doing?” a male voice demanded.

  She felt a hand reach down to grab the narrow shoulder strap of her sundress. Damn. Where was the thick robe she’d been wearing?

  It’d been hot and scratchy, but it would have kept her from enduring the rough touch of the stranger.

  She held her breath, sheer determination keeping her from reacting.

  “I’ve never been this close to a freak,” the man next to her said. “I wanted to see if she had any weird mutations.”

  “Christ,” the first man muttered. “You’re the freak. Get away from her.”

  “She’s tiny, but she has all the right parts. We could have some fun before Roy gets back.”

  “She’s our prisoner, not your toy.”

  “No reason she can’t be both,” the man muttered, his hand tightening on the strap. As if he was debating the pleasure of ripping off her dress.

  She covertly tensed. She’d fight them both if she had to, but no one was going to treat her as a toy.

  “You’re an insult to the Brotherhood,” the first man said with blatant disdain.

  “And you’re a dried-up pissant,” the nearest man snapped. “We’ve been camped out here for two weeks. I’m tired of my hand.”

  There was the sound of
footsteps again as yet another male entered the room.

  “Is there a problem here?” he asked, the edge of authority in his voice revealing he was the leader.

  Her strap was abruptly released. “No problem.”

  “Good, then you can take a turn on guard duty.”

  “But, Roy, I—”

  The whining came to an abrupt end as Myst sensed Roy move forward. There was a small scuffle, then a pained grunt as the male who’d tried to strip her was tossed from the cottage and the door slammed shut.

  “Did he hurt her?” Roy demanded of the first male.

  “No, but he’s untrustworthy.”

  “Damn. He might have to have an unexpected accident before we return home.”

  “You’ve spoken to the leader?”

  “Finally,” Roy muttered. “It took her long enough to return my call.”

  Her? Myst felt a stab of surprise.

  She’d assumed it was the Brotherhood who’d kidnapped her, but she’d never heard of them allowing a woman to become their leader.

  “What did she say?”

  “We’re supposed to bring the clairvoyant back to the ranch,” Roy answered, making Myst cringe. The ranch had to be the compound in Wyoming where they had kept her trapped in the mine shaft. No way in hell she was going back there.

  “Thank God,” the first male muttered. “I’m tired of sharing a tent with half a dozen Brothers who haven’t showered in two weeks.”

  “But first she wants us to kill her companion.”

  Myst felt a jolt of sheer terror before it was abruptly replaced by sharp-edged relief. Bas was still alive. That knowledge was all that mattered.

  After all, she fully intended to escape. She could warn him of the danger before they could track him down.

  “Why bother with him?” the first male demanded. “He didn’t see us.”

  “He was a high-blood, probably a Sentinel. It’s possible he might be able to track her.”

  “A warrior?” There was no missing the edge of fear in the male’s voice. Which proved he wasn’t stupid. “Do you think it’s possible?”

  “I don’t intend to take any chances,” Roy muttered, not sounding any more excited than his companion at the thought of facing a Sentinel. “I have double guards on duty for tonight. We’ll leave for Paris at first light. I’m not going to breathe easy until we have the woman locked in a cell at the ranch.”

  There was a long silence, as if the male was carefully considering his words.

  “I have to admit I’m surprised,” he at last said.

  “Why?”

  “I thought the new leader was sending us on a wild goose chase when she told us the clairvoyant would be at the old farmhouse,” he said, thankfully too consumed with his own thoughts to hear Myst’s tiny gasp of shock. “I never dreamed we would gain such a mighty prize.”

  They knew. . . .

  Myst forced herself to accept the stunning realization that someone had told the Brotherhood she was traveling to meet Boggs.

  But who?

  Before she could even begin to guess who had betrayed her, Roy was speaking.

  “She won’t be mighty until she gives us the weapon,” he muttered.

  “There’s been no word on what the mysterious weapon is supposed to be?”

  “Not to me.” Roy gave a sharp laugh. “Of course, I’m just a lowly soldier.”

  Myst clenched her teeth. God. She wished they did know what the weapon was. Once she understood the danger, she could work to avoid her fate.

  “It’s odd the leader knew where to find the clairvoyant but can’t tell us how the high-blood is going to help us defeat Valhalla,” the first male muttered.

  “Maybe you should ask her when we get back,” Roy suggested.

  The companion sucked in a horrified breath. “I don’t think so.”

  “Wise choice,” Roy muttered. “The leader may be a female, but she’s more ruthless than Gilbert could have ever hoped to be.”

  There was another awkward pause. Then the first male cleared his throat.

  “Do you think the rumors are true?”

  “Rumors?”

  “That Stella was responsible for Gilbert’s—”

  “Don’t say it,” Roy interrupted in harsh tones. “Don’t even fucking think it. Not unless you want to end up in the pit.” There was a stark pause. “Or worse.”

  “Fine,” the male muttered. “I’m going to pack my things. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

  “Agreed,” Roy said as they walked across the floor and out the door.

  Left alone, Myst continued to feign sleep. She couldn’t be sure the males wouldn’t return. Or that they wouldn’t send in another guard to keep watch on her.

  She was still lying there when she heard the soft sound of a footstep from the back of the cottage. She stiffened before she caught a familiar scent.

  Her eyes snapped open, her heart lodging in her throat. “Bas?”

  “I’m here, cara,” he whispered, moving to crouch beside the cot. In the dim light she could make out the grim expression on his finely chiseled features and the bronze eyes that abruptly flared with a combustible fury. “You’re hurt.”

  “Just my face,” she hastily assured him, not bothering to analyze her acute joy at the sight of him.

  She could tell herself it was relief that she was going to be rescued, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t true. She was a strong, independent woman who’d been taking care of herself her entire life. She didn’t need any male to rescue her.

  Which meant her joy was something far more dangerous.

  And this wasn’t the time to worry about it.

  Thankfully unaware of her crazy thoughts, Bas reached out to gently touch her cheek where one of the pieces of flying glass had sliced through her skin.

  “I’m going to fucking kill them,” he rasped.

  “No.” She reached to grasp his wrist, her heart squeezing with fear. What’d happened to the cold, always logical Bas? Right now he looked angry enough to take on the entire Brotherhood. Even if that meant putting his life in jeopardy. “I just want out of here.”

  The air vibrated with his barely leashed hunger for violence, but with a visible effort he relaxed his coiled muscles and gave a slow nod.

  “First, I need to check for guards,” he murmured softly.

  “Be careful,” she ridiculously warned. As if the assassin needed to be told how to do his job. “They’re expecting you to try and rescue me.”

  He straightened, a hard smile of anticipation curling his lips.

  “Good.”

  She gave a shake of her aching head as Bas silently moved across the room and slid out the door.

  “Men,” she muttered, managing to push herself to a seated position on the cot, her glance taking a quick inventory of her surroundings.

  She’d been right to guess she was being held in a cottage, although that was a generous term for the shabby one-room building with peeling plaster and a warped floor.

  There was also a decided lack of handy weapons.

  Not that she needed one, she wryly acknowledged, watching as the door opened just far enough for Bas to toss an unconscious human on the floor before disappearing back into the dark. Less than ten minutes later he’d repeated the process three more times.

  Then, stepping over the pile of bodies, he crossed the floor to bend down and scoop her into his arms.

  “Let’s go.”

  Even aware that he was a trained Sentinel, Myst had to admit she was impressed. He’d neatly disposed of four guards and now he was carrying her out of the cottage and jogging toward the thick line of trees.

  And he wasn’t even breathing hard.

  Keeping a watch over his shoulder, Myst could see several humans seated around a large campfire while others were cheering on two males who were taking pleasure in punching each other in the face.

  None of them seemed aware that their prize was slipping from their g
rasp.

  She waited until she and Bas had become lost in the darkness of the trees before she broke the silence.

  “I can walk,” she said in soft tones.

  “Not as fast as I can,” he countered, his body stiffening as there was the sudden sound of footsteps behind them. “Shit,” he growled, tightening his arms around her. “Hold on.”

  Darting forward, Bas weaved his way through the trees with a liquid grace that the humans could never hope to duplicate. Unfortunately, they had the benefit of weapons they didn’t hesitate to use.

  “Bas,” she cried out as the peaceful night was shattered in an explosion of gunfire.

  “Keep your head down,” he commanded, leaping over a narrow stream as the bullets whizzed past them.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing close as she sent up a silent prayer he wouldn’t be hit. A bullet might not kill him, but he could bleed to death like any mortal in this remote area.

  Her prayer was answered only seconds later.

  “Stop shooting, you idiots,” Roy ordered in a pissed-off voice. “He has the clairvoyant. We need her alive.”

  For the first time in fifteen years, Myst was happy the stupid Brotherhood needed her.

  * * *

  After running through the woods for over an hour, Bas knew he was nearing his limit.

  Despite his formidable strength, the drugs in his system were taking their toll, not to mention his intense fury as he’d followed Myst’s trail into the Brotherhood camp.

  He’d wanted to destroy each of them with his bare hands. To rip them apart for daring to attack his female. Not at all the calm, cool, and collected assassin he’d trained to be.

  As if sensing his weariness, Myst lifted her head from his chest to study him with a concerned frown.

  “We have to stop, Bas.”

  He nodded his head toward the distant lights he could see through the tree trunks.

  “There’s a town just ahead,” he assured her, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

  Despite the danger they’d been in, he’d taken a savage pride in carrying her in his arms as they’d escaped. Idiotic, of course. He wasn’t a teenage human with the childish need to prove his manhood. Or even a self-sacrificing Sentinel who’d sworn to serve and protect.