Julia stopped and looked up at him. “How long?”
“I got a boost from Paul.”
Well shit, Julia thought.
“He's a Negator but his secondary is Amplifier.”
Julia's hand dropped as laughter burst and she would have replied but Jacqueline walked out and saw the two of them. It corked their humor as effectively as having their tongues cut from their mouths.
“I'll let ya go,” Michael said, winking.
“Thanks,” Julia said in a droll way, loving him abandoning her for Jacqueline's presence.
Loving it.
She turned to Jacqueline and hoped she didn't see the Combatant's stinking temporary prison and missed her minute stroking of something in her pocket. “Walk with me, my Queen,” Jacqueline said.
Tendrils of unease that had swirled before wrapped Julia instantly and her disquiet swelled and overflowed, hinting at terror, the dream's portentous warning ringing a dismal alarm.
It made Jason of the Were stifle a howl, his hackles standing up at bristled attention not far from where Julia stood with her enemy beside her. From the opposite direction William burst from the protective cover the leaves had provided him from the sunlight that still rode above the canopy of the forest. His mouth opened and he hissed involuntarily; his mind set on Julia.
She was in danger, his blood hummed with it.
It was not from the source he would have surmised it would be.
Mason met his eyes and whispered the word to William, twilight was hours away from their rescue of her.
Betrayal, he spoke decisively.
It was not the wolves that would threaten the woman he needed, the woman he'd vowed to protect, to love.
It was a viper in their midst. A Singer of royal constitution and mental instability. In the sure grips of power hunger. In the case of this one: starvation.
Frustration sunk its talons into William, his fangs and claws simultaneously punching out of their flesh houses, readying him for protecting something so vulnerable, so precious... and so far away.
He hit the ground with his fists, the tremor like a small quake, rousing the small creatures of the forest to flee.
Alerting the Were of his anger in a primitive pop of smell and sound.
The vampire of the Southeastern Kiss broke from their slumber to assemble, awoken from their light sleep by the tightrope sprung by the emotions of their new leader.
Jason growled, feeling the turmoil of the enemy, the reason for it was even more damning.
Julia was in danger.
This time, it would not be from him.
Jason would use what he had become to save her.
Then they would be together again.
It was meant to be.
CHAPTER 20
Truman
Karl Truman had walked a solid mile in, the pathway narrowing in a way that screamed that he was lost, his eyes telling him to go back to the car even as his nose spurred him on.
Hell, his nose was in a constant state of tremor, forget twitching. That was long past, in favor of a small earthquake of potential discovery.
When he reached the jagged boulders, a light sweat covered him. His chest rose and fell like it used to when hiking was fun and not a chore, Karl saw the symbol and his nose grew still.
He'd found the metaphorical bone.
Chiseled into an outcropping of large stones, a sandy apricot in color, washed by countless eons of rain an inscription read: Lobo de Luna.
It was absent of color, if Truman hadn't been looking, he would have missed it. Around the words were the faintest marks, almost tribal in their look, Celtic. He traced a finger over the deep etching. A light buzz traveled up his arm, shooting to his armpit and a bursting heat radiated from the contact. He jerked his hand back like it had been scorched.
Truman didn't even flinch when a low growl sounded, unsurprised. He turned slowly and curled his fists in a defensive posture that was as automatic as breathing.
They might take him, but he wouldn't be the easiest human they'd ever found.
However, it was not what he thought it would be, the next words the strangest of his life.
“Welcome home, wolf,” the Packmaster of the Northwestern Pack said in a growl as his humanity left him in a sliding melt of flesh as fur flowed over his body like a match to flame.
When the werewolf sunk its teeth like small daggers into Truman's shoulder he didn't even feel it, the numbness descended over him instantly.
He felt the bite of the wolf as some would have felt the sting of the black widow. Silent, poisonous.
Final.
And in the case of Truman, welcome.
When the half-breed lost consciousness Lawrence released him and the worn human fell to his side, blood flowing freely and dampening the cool moss of the forest floor underneath where he lay.
Lawrence's Change reversed itself seamlessly and his human form reasserted itself, the moon full in one day hence.
He turned to his front sentry with a smile. “The plot thickens, Ford.”
The FBI agent, or the man that Truman had met, gave a nod of deference to his pack leader. “It does.”
“You did well.”
“You mean, Packmaster, that my nose did.”
Lawrence laughed. “Yes, you are right. However, it was you that scouted him as more than just police.”
Ford shrugged, his bulging form no longer hidden by a suit not made for the human form a werewolf held. “It was the way he asked questions of the Southeastern first, the way he dug,” he gave a low chuckle of grudging admiration.
“It will be interesting to see what line he manifests,” Lawrence said thoughtfully, palming his chin. Only an Alpha could bring a human to wolf. Impossible if that human did not possess the blood of a Were. Which this human did. He had nearly been too old to turn, having seen almost a half century of the moon's phases.
Ford seemed to read his leader's mind. “It was a near thing. His age.”
Lawrence nodded, watching the blood slow and begin to congeal against the torn flesh of his upper shoulder, the cop's body twitching as the blood of the Were awoke to the summons his bite had began.
Both Were looked to the heavens, a sliver of the sky clearly visible as darkness crept in.
The moon would be nearly full this night.
Karl Truman would Become. His nose had found more than a clue for him as a police officer, but the call of his brethren.
Enough blood to scent the den of wolves where he belonged.
Though he did yet know it, Karl Truman's body convulsed in a change from human to wolf. Brought on by circumstance, engineered by fate.
*
Julia
Julia kept a careful distance between herself and Jacqueline, the leader of their sister Region, true mother to a contender for a royal pairing and walked. Julia understood politics, just enough to know she wasn't a fangirl.
Really? She was completely the antithesis of who they should be grooming for the role Julia now found herself in.
Jacqueline laced slim fingers behind herself as she walked slightly ahead and to the right of Julia. The silence was awkward and thick and Julia allowed its discomfort to roll out between them. Julia was not bothered in the least. She had enough to worry about with all that was here, with all that was coming. This leader's apparent pettiness was small enough to be easily dismissed. Again Julia thought of Cyn and felt a small smile curl on her lips. It was truly wonderful to think about Cyn with happiness instead of that abiding loss. Sometimes, the memories of what had been were powerful enough to affirm a person in the present.
Sometimes.
“I am royal as well,” Jacqueline said by way of breaking the ice.
“I know,” Julia replied levelly.
“Then you must understand how much it would benefit the thirteen Regions that someone who possesses both royal blood and the wisdom of centuries behind them... should also lead here, with the Combatant as guard.” She cocked a
n inky black eyebrow at Julia and she was struck by the same sardonic expression that Scott had used on her. Julia struggled not to superimpose the two people for a moment. The vertigo shattered as Julia righted the two in her mind with an effort.
Scott didn't even like his real mom. She'd basically been bred to Marcus to produce a potential Combatant.
“That really works for me Jacqueline,” Julia said and watched her carefully made up face contort in an expression of surprise. Julia knew that people with evil intent assumed the same mindset as their own with others. It was comical: Jacqueline thought that Julia must want the position of power as much as she. Of course, Jacqueline was dead wrong. “I don't want to be queen of anything. I don't want to be in some genetic-induced spell of 'love',” Julia said, dropping her fingers from airquotes before adding, “There's just one problem.”
Jacqueline's brows rose in her imperious face. “And what might that be?” As if Julia could not have an independent or creative thought unless it came from Jacqueline.
Surprise, surprise, Julia thought with her usual sarcasm.
“How are you going to be the queen if your own son is a Combatant?” Julia was thinking that incest angle was out. Right? Sort of a no-brainer, Julia reasoned.
Jacqueline gave her a glare that spoke to how stupid she presumed Julia to be, “Don't be silly. The blood is sovereign. Any of the Combatant that are not blood-related would be a contender for me as King.”
“Then there should be no deliberation. Why do I have to be Queen if you're so hot for the job?”
Jacqueline smiled. “Because it is not about choice my dear.”
“What is it then?” Julia asked, exasperated by her beating around the bush.
“Death,” Jacqueline said, capturing Julia's gaze, their eyes meeting in a tangle of misunderstanding, objectives and purpose.
Time stilled, suspended.
Then Julia asked, knowing she shouldn't, “Whose?”
“Yours,” Jacqueline said, throwing her hand out of the pocket gracefully, her fingers splaying in a perfect card toss.
Julia gasped and felt the powder enter her lungs like frozen ice and slipped into a paralysis, falling like a statute, the agony of not being able to brace her fall as the ground gave her body the hardest kiss of her life, knocking the wind out of her.
Jacqueline bent down next to her ear, the lips of her mouth a kiss of heat against Julia's skin. “No one can protect you from this. You will awaken too late... my Queen,” she said, the title uttered as a mockery.
Julia lay there on the ground, her eyes the only part of her body that could move, the numbing paralysis of whatever Jacqueline had thrown at her slowly hardening every part of her body.
However, Julia had been taught the tools of survival through hard life experience and she used that now, shrieking in her mind to any that could hear her mental alert.
The one thought that she had was that however much she hadn't wanted to fulfill her role as leader, the demented Jacqueline could not be allowed as a replacement.
Then, as Julia's breathing slowed inside the confines of her body Jacqueline whispered something that would damn Julia forever, the memories of what had transpired so long ago, forever changed.
“Soon you will meet your parents. Where you should have gone from the beginning. You know what they say about the best laid plans...” she cackled and with a tender finger she stroked Julia's cheek, giving it a painful pinch before she walked away with a pleased sway to her stride.
Abandoning Julia on the forest floor. Vulnerable to all that would seek her.
They did.
As she lay there, the Northwestern Pack and Southeastern Kiss closed in on her position.
*
Jen
Jen crammed her hands against her head when she heard the mental directive.
The time has come, Singer, William thought at her.
Jen walked out of the door, dropping what she'd been working on. Her consciousness fought his command robotically, even as she used her minor telepathic skills to locate Julia. She was not powerful like a true Locator would be but she knew Julia's signature and found her easily enough.
Jen was greeted by the still and snow white form of Julia. Her lips a pale red, her skin like polished ivory where golden hair laid around her like spilled honey. As Jen approached she saw glittering tears falling out of eyes that swam with golden fire.
With resolve.
Julia was dying.
Jen felt something inside her give, tearing inside her brain and the thrall was released in an explosive rip that brought her to her knees. She didn't even bother to get closer to Julia.
She ran for safety: Julia's.
Jen sprinted for the Combatant.
*
darkness falls
William burst the trap of the earth as twilight gave way to darkness and the internal grip he had on the Singer broke from the hysteria she succumbed to upon discovering Julia.
Even now the song of her blood grew weak and William raced toward her location.
He did not feel the pain as he Changed in the middle of his bid to get to her. The call of her blood drove his actions in an automatic response he was incapable of ignoring or resisting.
He came to her.
Wait for me, he intoned, hoping she would be cognitive enough to catch it.
*
Julia
Oxygen flowed into Julia, the heavy hand of weight that'd been on her chest like an hippo had landed was momentarily lifted and she gulped in life-saving air just as in her periphery, like a dream become real, Cyn appeared.
Julia blinked.
Surely her addled brain played tricks on her? The substance spun like a deadly web for Julia to breathe her last, muddling her thoughts.
Her vision.
Julia's purpose was growing dim.
The Were burst out from their position as Jen ran for the Combatant and Jason let Cyn down from the cage-like hold he'd had her in to get them to Julia.
Not a damn moment too early, Jason saw.
Marcus came from the other direction and they circled Julia, the Combatant on one side and the Were on the other.
When a huge raven, concealed by cover of night flew overhead no one looked up.
No one ever does.
However, Julia saw the wings above her as she lay on her back and her breathing improved as he neared.
It was William.
She was suffocating a moment before and now she breathed as Cyn screamed her name.
It was the dream, yet not.
*
Cyn
Cynthia saw the dearest friend she'd ever known laying in front of her- found. She ran from Jason and the Were that had taken her, dismissing the group of people who stood on the opposite side of where Julia lay and slid as she got close to Julia, wrecking her pants forever, Jules' fugly boots giving her added traction as they clung and released the unevenness of the forest bed.
“Jules,” Cynthia said, eyeing the pale face and bright gold eyes, so like a cat's and she cried tears of relief, lifting a cold and limp hand in hers.
What the fuck was wrong with her? Cynthia squeaked. Had she found Jules only to lose her?
There was no way in hell, Cynthia decided easily.
Cynthia looked away from Jules and searched the crowd of weirdos, her gaze finally locking on Jason.
“Well what are you dipshits waiting for? The second coming? Get over here and Fix. My. Friend!” Cynthia yelled at them, her eyes shooting daggers.
“I like her,” Michael said and Scott took a swing at him. “You stupid asshole,” Scott seethed as he strode out of the line of Combatants, “It's because of you that she's like this.”
Michael looked up from where he'd landed on his ass and shook his head. “Nah, you guys needed to sing in your own shit. Besides, I think it was Mommie Dearest that rode this thing home. Right, Victor?”
Victor gave a look of contained terror as the eyes of the nine other Combat
ant landed on his.
“Where is Jacqueline?” Marcus asked quietly, keeping the small but lethal group of Were in his sights.
“I am here,” Jacqueline said in a ringing voice, filled with her own self-importance.
Julia gave a low moan and Cynthia heard it. They stared at each other for a moment and Cynthia frowned, a low hum starting near her sternum. As if under a compulsion she did not understand Cynthia got closer to Jules and took both her hands.
Heat poured out of her as soon as she made contact with more than just a handshake, both her hands gripped around Julia's.
William landed near the women, giving a single caw that could be felt in the chests of all that stood.
Calling the other vampire like a dinner bell.
Jason felt his skin slip and his wolf burst free when the raven landed a few feet from Cyn and Jules.
He ripped forward, his claws digging into the earth and spitting dirt as he ran for the women, a bird the size of a small pony edging closer.
When its crimson eyes glanced at Jason, he knew.
This was the vampire.
He ran faster.
The raven reached Julia and laid a wing against her head as the wolf pulled her limp body against his.
The three pressed the Queen against their bodies. The goal of the trio identical, called by blood, by friendship.
By love.
Jacqueline was the first to realize what it meant and that her plan had backfired miserably.
That destiny could not be denied. That it would reassert itself despite the efforts of the vigilant. The greedy.
With a last effort at subterfuge she screamed, aiming ruthlessly at the Combatant, “They're killing her!”
As Scott reached forward to wrest the raven away, the wings melted into arms and he got a handful of air.
The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) Page 46