Enemy Mate

by L. J. Red

  “What are you doing here?” he purred, and the depth of emotion in his voice made her shiver.

  “I… I was… I couldn’t find… I mean, I was just…” Her thoughts scattered, chasing their tails. He distracted her entirely.

  “What you want?” he asked, stepping closer. He growled, his muscles rippling, his shoulders tense, thick cords standing out in his forearms, God, he was so big, he loomed over her. Her knees grew weak and her lips parted on a breathy moan.

  Talon swore softly. “Why are you so—” He broke off into a wordless growl.

  She tried to force her brain to work. Why was she so… So what? What was his problem with her? Why did he seem to hate her so much? The fiery intensity in his eyes had to be hatred. Nothing else could explain why it was so strong. He didn’t want her here. She took a half step back and his gaze snapped to her. She froze again, feeling like prey in the grip of a predator. And yet she wanted him, despite the terror she felt fizzing through her veins. He was a total stranger to her, but she was desperate to feel the touch of his hands on her skin. What was wrong with her? She needed to remind herself who he was, the violence he was capable of.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he snarled, and the flicker of anger in his gaze was exactly what she needed to break free of the haze of lust.

  She forced herself to take a step back. “Oh, is this just for Shadows?” She glanced at the weights. “I suppose you have to keep in shape,” she bit out. “You know, for all the murdering you do.”

  The anger in his gaze burned through her. “What would you know about that?” he snarled.

  “Just like the Ravagers,” she said. “They’re always pumping metal as well.”

  Talon snarled. “I’m nothing like them.” Rage reddened his eyes for a moment and Eden flinched back. She laughed bitterly. “Are you kidding? You’re exactly like them. All that violence, all that rage. I want nothing to do with it,” she said bitterly.

  “Oh?” Talon said. “And I suppose that’s why you begged them to turn you—”

  “Begged them?” Eden broke in. “How dare you! You know nothing about it. I didn’t beg anyone; Riker forced me—” She broke off, glancing away, angry tears threatening to fall. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. Instead, she welcomed the sudden rush of anger, not examining where it came from, throbbing like a vast deep well from somewhere inside her. “I was trapped with the Ravagers,” she snarled. “Turned against my will. You think I want this?” she asked, letting her fangs slide into her mouth. “I hate this. I hate being a vampire.”

  “If you hate us vampires so much,” Talon growled, slow and threatening, “then you should leave now, before you see exactly what a real vampire warrior is capable of.”

  She caught her breath in her throat. Was he threatening her? And yet, it wasn’t violence she felt rising from him. Despite his undeniable ability to fight, she wasn’t afraid of him harming her. No, instead there was something very different rising in the air, heat like that in the infirmary—the haze that had fogged her thoughts. Her breath came short and she took a small step back.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be here long,” she gasped. “I don’t want anything to do with you or the Ravagers.”

  He took an abrupt step toward her, a strange light in his eyes. “Then go,” he purred softly. She swayed toward him despite herself. “You don’t want this,” he said, and yet the crooning allure in his voice was impossible to fight against. He was right, she didn’t want… didn’t want… she leaned in toward him, closing the distance between them until the air was pressed out of the room. What had they been talking about? She couldn’t remember. All her thoughts scattered in a haze of desire. He leaned down, drawn to her just as she was drawn to him, so close she could feel his breath against her lips.

  Chapter 10

  Talon wanted desperately to close the gap between them. Eden was arching into him, her eyelids half shut, her eyes hazy with desire. Her smoky, alluring scent surrounded him. The bond was thrumming, heavy and deep, a pleasing vibration running through his bones, tightening his muscles. She moaned and the sound went straight to his shaft. He was painfully hard, his body ached for release. His hands hovered above her waist. He wanted to press her to him, to tear her clothes off and lay her gorgeous body bare. She was so close. He wanted to press himself against her, mark her as his own on every inch of her skin. He needed… he wanted… his fangs slid into his mouth, aching to bite, to mark, to claim her, to complete the bond.

  The thought ran through him like fire. Complete the bond? No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t complete the bond. He had to find a way to break it. Talon tried to move back, but found he couldn’t move at all, his body was so desperate to close the distance between them that he couldn’t move away. Conflicting instincts tangled within him. He needed her, but he needed to escape her, escape this, the bond that was dragging their bodies inexorably together.

  “Please,” he heard her say softly, a note of confusion entering her voice. She didn’t know what was happening. She didn’t know what she was asking for. He couldn’t do this to her. The realization trickled through him, finally giving him enough strength to take the tiniest step back. Just an inch more space between them, but it was enough to finally get some relief from the dizzying nearness of her. She made a soft, disappointed sound as he retreated, and he had to lock his muscles to stop himself from rushing back to her. Meeting her unstated need. No. This was the bond. Fight it. She didn’t know what she was doing, but oh fuck, she looked glorious. Her dark hair tied loosely behind her head, long strands curling over her shoulders, her long legs tucked into dark jeans. He wanted to run his hands over her waist, lift up her shirt and run his fingers all over her dark skin. God, he wanted her.

  She swayed, as if rocking with the force of his desire, and he realized he’d let his emotions escape down the bond. He gripped the bond within himself, forcing the connection closed as much as he could, but it was still there. Undeniable. He needed to get her out of here. Needed to get her mad enough that she would leave. With a snarl, he forced himself to ignore the delicious, wicked heat of her body and took another, larger, step back.

  “Get out,” he growled.

  Eden blinked slowly, then, as if coming out of a dream, gradually opened her eyes wide. He saw the haze of lust still clouding them. Fuck, the bond was still working on her. They couldn’t be together; he needed more distance between them.

  “Go,” he snarled again.

  Eden caught her breath and rocked back from him. He controlled his desire to lunge forward, to drag her back. He needed her to go. Needed her to leave. “Get the fuck out of here,” he roared, losing control, his wildness, always waiting under his skin, finally roaring to the fore, giving his eyes an unholy glow. He saw Eden react. Her eyes widened; her heartbeat quickened to almost human pace. She stumbled back a step.

  He hated that he was playing right into her fears. She’d called him violent, said he was just like the Ravagers, and now he was proving it.

  Her eyes cleared further and she took another step back, clearly unwilling to turn and run, to show her back. Smart, he thought, feeling like the predator he was. She moved slowly, not running, not engaging his predatory instincts, and he forced himself to stay still, his eyes locked on her as she inched toward the door. The bond stretched between them, painful in its intensity, but he ignored it, just as he ignored the aching hardness between his legs, grateful for the looseness of the workout pants. He didn’t want her to know what she did to him. Let her think it was rage that locked his limbs and sparked fire in his eyes. He couldn’t let her find out the truth. She finally reached the door and tugged it open. His eyes flashed, and as she slipped through the door, he couldn’t stop himself from launching toward it. She was leaving. He needed her.

  He crossed the room in an eye blink, but fought with himself, slamming against the door, growling, scrabbling for the door handle, but locking his muscles before he could pull it open. He felt her flinch
back in fear on the other side, the movement echoing through the bond. And then she ran, receding from him, moving further and further away. He snarled through his fangs, gripping the door handle so hard it buckled. He wanted to chase after her, wanted to skim the Shadows and speed through the Sanctuary toward her. But he didn’t. He forced himself to stay on the other side of the door as she moved further and further away, his awareness of her receding to a low hum in his mind.

  He turned and slumped against the door, sinking down onto the floor and resting his head in his hands.

  Lucian had pulled all the records they had on soulmate bonds: ancient scrolls, almost falling apart with age, and Talon had stayed up through the night, deep into the day, for hours and hours, coming back the next night and the next, but nowhere had he found a way to break the bond. He ran his hands roughly through his hair, pulling strands out of his long braid. She was his enemy, she was Radiance, he repeated to himself. But the words were meaningless. He didn’t care. The bond didn’t care. His body didn’t care. It didn’t matter what Bloodline she was from. He wanted her. The call of his soulmate outweighed her past. He snarled in frustration, forcing himself to his feet and pacing angrily. She hated violence, he thought, catching sight of the gym equipment he’d been using when she came in, remembering what she’d said. There was another reason it would never work. She would never want him anyway. Violence was all he knew. He forced away a flash of regret. This was good. This was what he needed, reasons to keep away from her, reason to hope by some miracle, the bond wouldn’t settle, would fade instead of what he feared, that it would grow between them until all his reasons to stay away from her burned up under the force of the bond’s fierce, uncontrollable desire.

  He spun away from the door, away from Eden’s presence in his mind, toward the punching bags at the back of the gym. He would just have to exhaust his body, release the energy running through him. He would stay down here until he was a hair away from collapse, then he would sleep, and the next night he would do the same. Any moment he wasn’t out on a mission for the Shadows, he would be down here. She wouldn’t come back here, not since he screamed at her to get out. He would be safe. He would be far too exhausted to even think about her.

  He settled his stance and launched a flurry of punches at the bag. Again and again, until his knuckles bled, and the fire in him reached fever pitch, but despite the ache in his limbs, the sweat on his brow, his awareness of her through the bond didn’t fade one bit.

  Chapter 11

  Dana lay on Lucian’s chest, dreamily tracing her hand over his muscles. She felt content by his side. She couldn’t explain it. So many years she’d spent alone, hungering for a connection she couldn’t find. It wasn’t until she’d met Lucian so many nights ago in this very Sanctuary that she’d finally felt that emptiness filled, the aching need within her finally met. She burrowed into his side, a smile on her lips. She was never letting him go. No matter what. Her thoughts turned dark. They weren’t safe. There were threats, but there would always be threats. She’d accepted danger into her life when she’d become a cop, becoming one of the Shadows was no different.

  “Dana?”

  She tilted her head up to face Lucian. He must have felt the dark turn of her thoughts through their bond. She smiled up at him sending reassurance through the bond. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

  “What about?” he asked, settling his arm tight around her body.

  “Enemies,” she sighed. “Radiance. Roman.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand him. Why is he so intent on hurting us?”

  “Because we’re the only ones standing against him.” Lucian sighed. “After the attack on the Conclave, the other Bloodlines are running scared.” His lips flattened into a line. “Too busy reinforcing their own defenses to face the threat.”

  “So, they leave it to us?” Dana asked. “Sounds pretty cowardly to me.”

  Lucian pressed a kiss on her brow. “They seek to protect their own,” he said finally. “I suppose I can understand that.”

  “You don’t need to protect me,” Dana said, lifting herself onto her forearm and catching his eyes, a serious note in her voice.

  “I know,” he said, smiling, smoothing his hand over her cheek. “My fighter.”

  She grinned and dropped a kiss on his lips. “You better believe it.” She leaned back again, her thoughts drifting. Renegotiating her place in the Chicago PD after being turned into a vampire was turning into a complicated, lengthy process. Right now, she existed in a kind of limbo: not quite suspended, not quite on duty. The only thing that made it bearable was that Brigit was still her partner. Of course, thanks to her new status, anything that smacked of vampires had been thrown their way; Brigit wasn’t exactly happy about that. Dana hadn’t realized how many vampire-related crimes were being swept under the rug until they all started to land on her desk. Assaults from new vampires unaware of their own abilities, murders that ended in turning, and since the victim was still walking around as a vampire, they didn’t technically count as a murder, a black market trade in vampire fangs and vampire blood—that she was sure could be traced to the Human-Undead Neutralization Team, or HUNT, for short. Then, in the last few weeks, she’d been noticing a sharp uptick in vampire-related gang crime. Almost all traced back to Vampire Ravagers, the vampire gang that Kai had created. She supposed it would have been too much to hope that it had died with him.

  Dana shifted against Lucian’s chest, welcoming the steady warmth of his body beside her.

  “Roman is here, isn’t he?” she asked. It was the only thing that made sense. “The Vampire Ravagers were a mess after Kai died, but lately, they’ve been picking themselves back up. It worries me.”

  Lucian’s arm tightened on her side. “I have the Shadows running regular patrols of the city.”

  “But there’s only so many of us,” Dana sighed. “We can’t be everywhere.” She frowned, remembering something. “What happened with Talon? I felt something in the Bloodline bond. I know I’m not connected to the other Shadows fully, since I’m such a new vampire, but I felt something, and last night May said something about him bringing a couple of vampires in?”

  Lucian was silent a moment. “One vampire,” he said slowly. “Recently turned, and a human woman, a relation I believe.”

  “Why?” Dana asked. “I mean, of course she’s entitled to the Sanctuary, all vampires are, but where did she come from?”

  Lucian was silent again, and Dana levered herself up to look him in the eye, feeling a tightening in the bond. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “He found her in Radiance territory, in a club the Ravagers operate out of,” Lucian admitted.

  Dana’s eyes widened. “What the hell? Why would he bring a Radiance vampire here?” Because that was what she had to be. Radiance, which made her their enemy.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Well uncomplicate it,” Dana said flatly, pushing away from Lucian and putting distance between them. Lucian’s eyes darkened and she felt the slow pulse and release of his desire for her through the bond, but she forced it away. The bond between them, steady and strong, had changed from the initial desperate pull of the first few months, and she was able to keep her focus on the conversation, not the fact that he was entirely naked under the sheet, all hard muscles and silken strength, a deep well of power that made her bones resonate and her breath come quick… She shifted, feeling a wetness between her legs. Focus, Dana. “Tell me what you’re hiding,” she said, pulling her attention away from his body.

  Lucian stared up at her, his dark eyes intent, and then he raised himself up as well, moving back against the headboard, the sheet slipping down his body, his thickly muscled chest distracting Dana for a moment before she pulled herself back on track.

  “Talon went out to their club, Bloodchase, against my orders,” Lucian said heavily. “He went…” His gaze was deep and sorrowful, and the bond opened, showing Dana the depth of Lucian’s misery. “He went to kill
himself.”

  “Oh shit,” Dana breathed.

  “He fears he has lost his grip on his control, that the wildness within him will take over.” He looked down. “I am starting to think he may be right.”

  “No,” Dana said, filled with sorrow. She took Lucian’s hand. “It hasn’t gone that far. He’s still with us. He didn’t die. He came back. He returned when you called; that’s control.”

  “No,” Lucian said, raising his eyes and gripping her hand. “It wasn’t me that brought him back. He refused my call.”

  “What?” Dana was stunned. “But you’re the leader of the Bloodline. How could he disobey you? I don’t understand. He really was going to kill himself?”

  “Yes,” Lucian said. “I fully expected to hear that Bloodchase was destroyed and Talon with it. You can imagine my surprise, and I will admit, my relief, when he returned, enough that I was willing to overlook the fact he had brought two outsiders into the Sanctuary. That and the fact that—” He broke off. Dana stared intently. “It is not my place,” Lucian said haltingly.

  What was that supposed to mean? Surely anything that affected the Shadows came under Lucian’s control. “You asked Talon why he brought her?”

  “I did”

  “And?”

  “He gave me reason enough.”

  “And I don’t get to learn the reason?” Dana snarled.

  Lucian sighed, tugging on Dana’s hand. She resisted at first, then, feeling the need within him, realizing the space between them was preying on him as well as her, she let him draw her into his embrace. “It is between Talon and the vampire to negotiate. I will not break his trust until he has found some peace.”