by R. E. Butler
Mishka had never asked Avery to do anything. It was curious, and maybe a little suspicious, but if he’d placed an order for something for the coat check and wanted her to sign for it herself and she refused? Well, he’d be really insulted, and she didn’t want that. “Wait, no! Okay, okay, I’m sorry. But I can’t leave, there’s no one to relieve me. Cella is filling in for me for my break.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ll be right there. Go ahead to the loading dock and I’ll take your place.”
“I’ve never been to the loading dock,” Avery said.
“Take the hallway past the food room and turn left. Take that hall all the way to a security door. The delivery guy is waiting for you.”
“Okay, th—” She didn’t get to finish her last word because Vivian hung up.
Her stomach in knots, she hurried from the coat check and followed the directions. As she neared the loading dock, her wrist tingled, and she laid her hand on the Wiccan protection bracelet. She paused with her hand on the door, her inner voice suggesting she go the other way.
What if Vivian was just being a bitch and trying to get her fired? But what if she wasn’t? She reached for her phone but realized she hadn’t put it in her pocket. It was still under the counter.
Damn, she couldn’t even call Cella or Traz to find out if it was a genuine request.
The door opened suddenly and Jasper growled at her. His eyes were wild, his fangs peeking from his parted lips. He jerked her outside to the loading dock and slammed the door shut.
She stumbled, one heel breaking and sending her tumbling to the concrete.
“Hello, Avery,” Jasper said.
She rolled to her knees and rose to her feet. “Jasper? What are you doing here?” Looking around the vast space, she saw that the loading dock door was closed, so she couldn’t even make a run for it.
He looked half crazed. His light brown hair was unkempt, his jaw covered with several days’ worth of stubble. She wondered, for a half second, what she had seen in him in the first place, but fear choked out any other thoughts except how to get away from a half-mad werewolf.
“Did you think you could get away from me by just ignoring my calls? Or having your bitch sister tell me off? I told you that you belong to me.” He moved toward her, his heavy boots echoing loudly in the room.
She backed away as he drew closer, her eyes darting around for something to use as a weapon and finding nothing. “Jasper, be reasonable,” she managed to get out as he stalked closer, his shoulders hunched as if he was carrying a heavy load. “You wanted me to commit to you right away, but I didn’t want to be in a serious relationship. I asked you to give me space and time, but you refused. You scared me.”
“You should be scared,” he said, curling his hands into fists. “But there will be plenty of time for that later, my sweet.”
“Later?” Her voice came out on a squeak. He stepped toward her every time she stepped away from him, but his legs were longer, and he closed the distance swiftly. No matter how she moved, he countered her.
“After I change you, you’ll age very slowly. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.” He smiled, his sharp teeth looking macabre in his mouth. His eyes were bright amber, almost glowing with glee. He raised his hands in the air and black, sharp claws sprung from the tips. Change. He intended to make her into a wolf like him. But shifters couldn’t change humans into shifters. The only supernatural creatures who could turn someone into something else were vampires.
“You will kill me,” she said, panic lacing her words. “You can’t turn me, Jasper. It won’t work, you know it won’t. Just... give me a chance to make it up to you. Don’t hurt me, please.”
“You had a chance to do this on your own terms and you forced my hand.” He continued to stalk toward her. He slashed at her and she jumped back, feeling the wind as his claws barely missed her.
“No!” she shrieked as fear thundered down on her. Spinning frantically with a shout for help, she ran toward the huge dock door, seeing a smaller side one that led to the alley. He grabbed her long hair and snatched her backward, lifting her off her feet and throwing her into the wall.
She flopped to the ground, tasting blood, her head spinning and her ears ringing. She rolled to her knees but couldn’t get up.
“We can make this easy or hard,” he said.
Dizzy and groaning, she struggled to stand. “Fuck you!”
He backhanded her and it felt like he nearly took off her head. She rolled to the concrete again and looked with dazed eyes up at the ceiling, the lights hazy through her blurred vision.
He was on top of her in a heartbeat, slashing at her stomach, his claws slicing through her flesh as she screamed in agony. Hot blood poured from her as he raised his hand high enough that she could see her blood glinting on his claws. “You’ll be mine forever now.” His fangs were shining in his mouth as he bent toward her.
Her vision grew dark as bone cracking shudders racked her body in the throes of blood loss and impending death. She would not become a wolf; she would die.
A rush of wind blew over her as her limbs went numb and her vision went entirely black.
This is how I’m going to die. In the loading dock wearing a miniskirt and belly shirt.
She tried to open her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out and the darkness took over.
Chapter Six
As Traz sat in the conference room discussing the SyBl factory and changes to security once they delivered the new electric trucks, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Something with Avery.
While he’d been pining for her since her first night of work, he’d only really gotten to start to know her last night. But he already felt connected to her, especially once they’d shared a searing hot kiss that branded her scent into his mind.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he frowned as fear rolled through him. But it wasn’t that he was afraid, it was like an echo of fear from someone else.
Avery!
Rising to his feet, he said hurriedly, “I’ll be right back.” He didn’t stay to answer any of the questions asked by the family members. Racing from the room, he skidded to a stop in front of the coat check.
Empty.
The feeling of panic was rising within him.
He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, sorting through the scents in the air to find Avery’s sweetness. He picked it up and followed it down a hall. He moved as fast as he could, bone-deep worry for her making him vow to harm whoever had caused her fear.
Her scent ended at the door to the loading dock. He didn’t take the time to reason why she would have gone to the loading dock during her shift or left her post unmanned—he put in the code to unlock the door and shoved it open.
The door cracked against the wall with a bang.
His gaze zeroed in on his mate, laying in a pool of her own blood with a blood-soaked male leaning over her.
Traz didn’t think, he simply reacted. Racing to the male, who was too intent on Avery to even raise his head to acknowledge his impending death, Traz snapped his neck and tossed the lifeless body aside.
She’d been slashed through her stomach repeatedly and fangs had torn open her throat. She was dying, and quickly. His sensitive hearing picked up her weak heartbeat.
She was nearly dead and unconscious.
Which meant he had only one choice, and he hoped to hell that she wouldn’t hate him for turning her without her permission. Slashing downward on his wrist with his fangs, he tore open his flesh and turned his wrist over her parted lips. His blood flowed into her mouth, coating her tongue. He used his free hand to cradle her close and then stroked her throat, encouraging her to swallow.
He heard people coming before he saw them. Without looking up, he said, “That dead wolf tried to kill her.”
“Who the hell is he?” Ven asked.
He squatted a few feet away. Traz lifted his gaze to his fri
end and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Oh no,” Cella said.
Cella, Cyrus, Brone, and Temple joined Ven, their faces full of concern.
“Why was she back here?” Cyrus asked.
“I don’t know,” Traz said. “I felt her fear, it’s why I left. I followed her scent here, and found the wolf leaning over her body, his claws and fangs coated with her blood.”
“Is he part of Adam’s pack?” Temple asked.
Traz didn’t answer because he didn’t know. And in the long run, it didn’t matter anyway. The male had attacked a human. Why he’d attacked Avery so brutally, in the loading dock of all places, Traz didn’t know, and he wouldn’t be able to ask the male. He stroked his hand over her soft hair, wondering what had possessed her to come out to the loading dock alone, and why the hell the wolf had been here in the first place.
He lifted the tattered remains of her top and looked at her stomach, watching as his blood forced her body to heal, the wounds knitting closed until all that remained was smooth, unscarred flesh. As he watched her closely, he was aware of his family around him—Brone talking to Mishka on his cell about the wolf, Temple accessing the security camera footage, and Cella wanting to call Avery’s family to let them know what had happened.
Traz lifted his head and looked at Cella. “All I know is she has an older sister and they’re not on speaking terms right now. Once she’s through the transition, she can make that choice herself. She lives alone.”
Cyrus cleared his throat. “What do you need?”
“Someone to get the door for me in a minute when she’s finished feeding.”
Tuning out the people around him, Traz focused on his mate.
In all his years as a vampire, he’d never sired anyone. The connection that bloomed between himself and Avery surprised him. He could feel when she’d had enough blood and her body drifted from unconsciousness into “the sleep.” It was during the sleep in which her body would cease to be human and would, after three days, become entirely vampire.
One of his bloodline, which was Mishka’s too.
Brone squatted in front of him as Traz extracted his wrist from her jaws. He lifted his head and met the purple gaze of his friend.
“You’re taking her to your chambers?” Brone asked.
“Yes.”
“Mishka wants to speak with you after you get Avery settled.”
Nodding, Traz cuddled Avery close and rose to his feet. “Thank you for coming to check on us,” he said.
“Of course,” Cella said. “Call if you need anything.”
Ven grabbed the door and Traz carried Avery through.
As they walked down the hall toward the offices, Traz’s mind was a jumble.
“We’ll get to the bottom of why the male was in the loading dock,” Ven said, as if he could read Traz’s mind.
“Hopefully, Avery will remember. Sometimes trauma before turning blocks memories.”
“True. At least the male is dead.”
Ven pressed the button for the elevator to take them down to the chambers, and when they were shut inside the cab, Temple buried his face in Avery’s neck and inhaled her scent. It was the same but different, a mixture of hers and his together, alluring in a way he didn’t expect. It was hardly appropriate that he was turned on right now. She’d almost died.
But here he was, in an elevator with his blood-drenched sweetheart, thinking sexy things about her.
Ven punched in the code to unlock Traz’s chamber and held the door open.
“What can I get you?” Ven asked from the doorway.
Traz stood in the center of his chamber, his thoughts racing. It had been hundreds of years since his turning, but he knew the process. The sleep would take three days, and then she’d wake ravenous. She’d feed from live donors every day for a week. He’d have to teach her everything about being a vampire, but unlike Mishka’s teachings which had been couched in violence because of the times they lived in, he’d only have to teach her about learning to live as one of them and how to feed. Because she was of Mishka’s line, she’d have better-than-average compulsion abilities.
“Right now, I don’t need anything.” He looked at his friend. “Thank you.”
“Hey, I’m glad you could save her. Call if you need anything.” Ven shut the door and Traz carried Avery to the bathroom.
His chamber walls were natural, rough-carved stone. The floor was dark hardwood, and he had updated the bathroom a few years ago to include a large glass-enclosed shower and heated tile floors. He turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat, and then he stepped into the enclosure with her. As the water washed away the blood, he stripped her and set her bloody, torn clothes in the corner of the shower. He washed her skin and hair and then wrapped her in a towel and carried her to the bed.
By the time her hair and skin were dry, and he’d dressed her in one of his T-shirts, the sun was rising, and he was exhausted. There was a knock at the door, and he opened it, finding Brone and Arissa in the hall.
Brone held out a bag of human blood to him. “My beloved asked if we could help you, and I said you only needed blood right now.”
“Thank you,” Traz said. He’d been so consumed with getting Avery cleaned up and settled that he hadn’t even realized how hungry he was. Feeding her enough blood for her turning had taken a lot out of him.
“How are you?” Arissa asked.
“Good. I’ll be better when she’s awake.”
“Call if you need us,” Arissa said.
The couple left and Traz smiled to himself as he shut and locked the door. His family was amazing. He was thankful for them on a hundred different levels.
He drank the blood, draining the soft package swiftly, and then he tossed it into the trash along with her clothes. Pulling on a pair of boxer briefs, he stared at her form on the bed, his body strung tight and his fangs throbbing. He wanted to climb onto the bed and hold her for the next three days, instead he pulled a recliner next to the bed and settled on that.
They’d just started talking, and he didn’t want to make assumptions about anything when it came to her. She’d awaken in seventy-two hours to a whole new reality, and the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and find him taking liberties. He’d let her come to him when she was ready, and in the meantime, he’d be her protector and her guide as she navigated the waters of her new life.
Chapter Seven
Avery came back to herself with stunning clarity. One moment she’d been in drifting darkness and the next she was awake, sitting upright, and looking around a room that was very unfamiliar. She scrambled backward on what turned out to be a large bed and shoved a blanket away from herself. She was wearing a T-shirt, which she pulled up to look at her body. Jasper had clawed her stomach, she was sure of it—but there wasn’t even a scratch mark on her belly.
“Did I dream that?” she asked out loud.
“No.”
Lifting her head, she saw Traz sitting next to the bed in a recliner, his jade gaze watching her intently.
Before she could respond, a sharp pain blazed through her stomach and Avery doubled over with a groan. “Ah, it hurts!”
His hand rested lightly on her shoulder and he tipped her chin up. “It is the hunger. I gave you my blood to save your life and it’s turned you into a vampire. You need to feed or you will die.”
“Feed on blood?” she asked as the pain radiated through her.
“Yes, sweetheart. You don’t want to die, right?”
“Make the pain stop, please,” she said, panic filling her as another, sharper stab of pain sliced through her.
He went to the door and opened it, allowing two women inside. He pointed to the end of the bed and said, “Sit.”
They complied swiftly. Avery could see they looked a little freaked out.
Traz picked up one woman’s wrist and locked eyes with Avery as he sank his fangs into her pale flesh. The woman winced but said nothing. Then Traz extracted
his fangs and pushed her wrist toward Avery.
She stared at the blood oozing from the woman’s wrist for a long moment. She could hear her heartbeat, taste her fear. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to drink every last drop of blood.
With a soft growl, Avery grabbed the wrist with both hands and fit her mouth over the wound. The woman’s skin smelled and tasted odd and artificial, as if she’d used perfume or lotion. Avery didn’t much care for the taste and scent of her skin, but she was starving. Traz moved and sat behind Avery, wrapping one arm loosely around her waist. The feel of his large body against hers was comforting. She swallowed a mouthful of hot, tangy blood, and it slid down her throat like a caress. She continued to drink, finding the ache in her stomach slowly starting to fade.
Traz worked his finger between Avery’s jaws and forced her to release her hold on the woman’s wrist. Avery struggled for a moment to regain the wrist, but Traz brought his hand up to wrap around her throat and hold her still.
“If you drink too much,” he whispered in her ear, “they die. Rule number one is don’t kill your food source.”
Avery shivered as his voice caressed her. “Sorry.”
“No worries. It’s why I’m here.”
“Hey, is she dangerous or something?” the second woman asked, eyeing Avery nervously.
“Quiet,” Traz ordered, then snapped his fingers and pointed to the space on the bed the first woman had occupied. The second woman moved closer and the scent of her fear was stronger. Appealing.
The woman offered her wrist and Traz leaned forward and bit into her flesh. Avery didn’t wait to feed this time, greedily latching onto her wrist and drinking deeply. She found the scent of this woman’s skin much nicer. She smelled clean like soap, but with a natural sweetness to her skin that Avery liked.
She was aware that she was feeling sated, so she didn’t need Traz to pull her from the woman’s wrist. Licking her lips with a sigh, Avery leaned back against him and said to the women, “Thank you. Now get out.”