Stolen By The Warrior

by C. J. Brookes

She’d never thought she’d beg, but she would. If it made a difference, she’d beg and plead until dawn. If it meant she and Mickey were safe.

  He didn’t. His left hand was now wrapped like a vise around the back of her neck. His right hand held both of hers. “You will soon learn, kitten. I promise you tonight is the only time this will ever hurt you. In fact, in time, you will crave me like I crave you.”

  He freed her hands then pulled her over him, using his superior strength to have her sitting on his lap with barely a movement. Mallory felt the press of his muscles against her shoulder. He turned her until they were chest to chest.

  She tried to fight him, but there was a strange lethargy about her. Her muscles wouldn’t cooperate. The terror of not being in control—Mallory needed to be in control, at all times.

  He kissed her brow.

  He was not letting her go until he was ready to. He pushed her hair to one side. Stroked her neck again. Then his left arm went behind her shoulders. His right hand slipped around her neck. Again. Mallory wanted to fight, but her muscles wouldn’t cooperate.

  He seemed fascinated by her neck. Mallory tried again, but she couldn’t move away.

  “It would be best, kitten, if I trusted you to stay still. I don’t. I know you will fight me, will fight this until you can fight no more. And how can I blame you? But it truly would be easier if you remained as still as possible. I do not wish to hurt you unnecessarily.”

  His head lowered. His lips brushed her neck. Once. Twice. Mallory fought an instinctive shiver of nerves. “You said you wouldn’t force me.”

  So she could talk. She just couldn’t move, couldn’t fight.

  “I know. And this is different. I have waited near on six hundred years for you, kitten. I will not spend another night waiting to claim you as my Rajni. We will do this now, and when you wake in the morning—you will be as I am.”

  “Just what are you?” Besides crazy.

  “Isn’t it obvious? You would call me vampire.”

  “Stop!”

  He pulled back, then looked at her with what she thought was resignation on his face. “As I thought, then. I’m just going to get it over with.”

  Mallory couldn’t fight, could barely blink, when he moved again. His arms went around her, tighter than ever before. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe. He kissed her neck again, this time more insistent. At least, she thought he was kissing her neck. His mouth was on her skin.

  His tongue brushed her pulse.

  “Stop!”

  Sharp pain rushed through her when his teeth sank deep. For the first time in her life, Mallory fainted.

  It was a blessing, Aodhan thought, when he felt her go limp in his arms. For the pain would soon begin. And conversion was unbelievably painful. He quickly accomplished his task of draining all the human blood from her body, then forced his wrist over her mouth.

  Her lips latched on to his wrist, and she pulled from him. Like she’d done so a thousand times before. Like she was starved. Like she’d been waiting for him.

  She took to him instinctively, like she knew exactly what was expected of her for her continued survival.

  Her teeth pierced his skin, and she fed fiercely.

  Aodhan shifted to give her more. He lifted his female to his neck.

  She hummed in her throat as she sank her teeth, small human teeth at that, into his carotid. It took her little time to extract from him what it was she needed. And he freely gave, forcing himself to remember he’d made a vow not to touch his Rajni until she requested it. But it felt so goddess-damned good to have her tucked against him while he provided. This was what he’d been born to do.

  Provide for this one female.

  Even if she was not conscious while it happened. He winced. This was not what he had wanted for his female. Never would he have wanted this for the one destined for him.

  After she finished drinking from him, he cuddled her close, waiting. He would have to pull the rest of the human blood from her body and replace it with Dardaptoan again, if needed, before the conversion was complete. It could take multiple feedings for a full conversion.

  Or it could take only the one. It just depended on the female.

  His fed voraciously—yet all while hidden by a cloak of darkness.

  She had fed like she was aware of what she was doing.

  The conversion began an hour later, forcing her from the darkness. She fought and clawed and hissed. He was forced to hold her down to keep her from tearing her own skin apart with her nails. At the end, she pleaded with him to just make it stop as she clung to him with fingers so tightly clenched on his flesh that she drew blood.

  “I wish I could, kitten. I wish I could.” He wiped the sweat away, first from her forehead, then his own. His arms trembled from the strain of holding her down while she struggled. She was going to hurt herself. “I am sorry, kitten. We will get through this together. I can promise you that. I will make it up to you. Somehow.”

  5

  It was the screams that pulled him from his nightmares. For an ordinary Dardaptoan, the building was soundproof. He’d stopped being ordinary thirty years ago.

  Nalik Black threw open the windows to his suite, not caring if the movement was loud enough to wake the parents he’d hated for centuries, where they slept in the suite below his. His House occupied the eastern half of the westernmost wing. It was a smaller house, but the wealthiest.

  He had made it that way over the last seven hundred years.

  Not that that meant anything any longer.

  There were females screaming somewhere nearby. Four of them. He could feel their pain. Screams of females kept behind walls he could not cross brought far too many memories.

  Sweat laced with blood beaded on his forehead.

  He didn’t bother to wipe it away.

  Another female cried out. Near him. From his cousin Aodhan’s wing. Young and broken. Her fear was intense.

  Females of the Dardaptoan Kind were always dying. Always screaming.

  Perhaps another had lost her babe. Far too many did just that. And that brought grief.

  Perhaps both the babe and mother had been lost. Also a common occurrence. Perhaps that had happened, and it was the mother’s sisters or elder daughters that cried out now.

  All he knew was that he could not stay there and listen to those cries.

  They were too much like his sister-in-law Kindara’s had been as Nalik’s brother had died before her eyes.

  Nalik stepped out onto the balcony and breathed in the cool Colorado air. And stepped into it, shifting as he went.

  Let someone else be haunted by her cries tonight.

  6

  Mallory woke cuddled close to the…thing’s…chest, her head pillowed on his broad, naked shoulder. He was watching her. The pain was only a dull ache now, but she would never forget it. She clung to him, her arms locked around his neck, her mouth pressed close to his skin. She’d drunk his blood again, apparently.

  She’d lost count of how many times she had done that through the night. How many times she had reached for him.

  It was one hell of a hallucination. She’d given up fighting him the second time. And just drunk—hungrily. Like she’d been starving. It was just a hallucination. No doubt someone had slipped something into her drink at the bar where they’d celebrated Emily’s thirtieth birthday a few hours ago. That was it.

  Every time she’d turned to him he’d met her eagerly. Held her and told her she’d be safe—with him. That he would always take care of her.

  Until he was her only constant in the darkness.

  “It is over now. I think.” His words were low, soft. His hand brushed up and down her spine. Mallory shivered. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been on a nasty drug trip. One I don’t want to repeat.” She pulled her arms down, trying not to wince at the pain in her shoulders from where she’d held him so tightly during the…whatever…it was that had happened. He reluctantly let her move away
from him.

  Mallory studied him for a moment. The pants he wore, though black, were covered in blood. Her blood. Her own shirt and jeans were ruined. She tried to keep herself from freaking. Blood had terrified her from the time she’d been twenty-one.

  “You won’t ever have to.”

  “What exactly was it that you did to me?” She had an inkling but didn’t want to put it into words.

  She didn’t believe in such things. Didn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

  It just wasn’t possible.

  “I am from a race of beings far older than humans, kitten. One of the blood-sucking Kinds. We have the ability to change humans into our Kind by a type of blood transfusion. I know you understand what I am talking about. The myths are popular with humans. Some women find us vampires sexy. Please tell me that you are one of those.” He nuzzled her throat; Mallory forced herself not to jerk away. She hurt far too much for jerking anywhere. And he wasn’t hurting her—now. It almost felt…comforting. Like he was trying to soothe her. Make up for what he had done.

  “I know I understand you’re crazy and that my brother will be coming to cut off your damned head for what you have done.” Mallory tried to stand, to slip off the bastard’s lap. His hands tightened around her thighs.

  He was just too strong. She was going to have to outthink him, rather than outfight him. Somehow.

  Mickey was somewhere in this hotel. She had to find her.

  “Is this happening to my sister, too? Is he hurting her, make her do this—”

  “Your sister is Theo’s mate, yes. She is with him now. No doubt he has already converted your sister to Dardaptoan. She will be safe. I vow this to you.”

  She tried to stand. His hands stopped her again.

  “No. Don’t move just yet. And your brother will not succeed in taking you from me.”

  Her brother never failed at anything, but he was human. This…this creature obviously was not. Rand could not fight him.

  Not without an army of men.

  “Why me?” It sounded so trite and cliché, the question. But Mallory had to ask. “Why us?”

  “Fate, in the form of the goddess of my Kind. The moment a Dardaptoan is born, she whispers the name of the one that Dardaptoan is fated for. She whispered your name for me. I know you don’t understand it. In time, you’ll see the wisdom in her fating us together. No other male in any of the worlds is better suited for you than me.”

  “Ridiculous. I don’t believe in fate.” Apparently, whatever stalker she’d picked up, he was the delusional kind. “I believe in choices.”

  “Tell me this, then, kitten. How do you think it is that I found you and Theo found your sister? You were meant for us. I have waited six hundred years, and only you were for me. We Dardaptoans have only one mate. One we wait to find. Yet the sister we went there to kill tonight was for Theo? The chances of our mates being human and being together are so low as to almost be impossible. You were fated for us. I cannot discount the teachings and customs of my people because of your human beliefs.”

  His hands tightened on her again. Mallory stared at him, unsure what to say in response. But at least, she did not fear that his hands would turn bruising now. At least, not at the moment. Not with him thinking she was his mate. But when he realized she wasn’t—or changed his delusional mind—she was screwed. And so was Mickey. The time to escape was in a very narrow window.

  “You were meant for me, kitten. And I will provide for you and protect you, no matter what. Do you understand me?”

  “Not really. I think you’re crazy. I want my sister, and I want to go home.” They had to get out of there, fast.

  She’d seen delusional men before.

  One had shown up at their office building four months ago, screaming at Emily that he was a werewolf—and she was going to be his queen and no one else’s. It had terrified her cousin. Terrified all of them how close he had gotten to them.

  Mallory had pushed her sister Becca, Joselyn, and Emily behind her while Mickey had called for security.

  Uncle Jason had shown up seconds later. Uncle Jason had made him go away. Fast. Her uncle would be looking for them too. It was just a matter of time.

  “I can only help you with half of that. You will see your sister shortly, at least.”

  The knock on the door startled her so much that she nearly fell from his lap. He caught her; his hands strong around her waist. He sat her aside as if she weighed nothing, and rose. She watched him as he answered the door and stepped outside to speak with the knocker. It was her only chance.

  Mallory darted across the suite to the patio door and slipped out. A single flight of steps led to the ground level, and she scaled them quickly. The crazy bastard wasn’t keeping her here any longer. She’d find Mickey and get out before he could do that blood-drinking thing to her again.

  He’d found her.

  Mallory should have known he would. He was superhuman, after all. But his hands hadn’t been bruising when he’d caught up with her again. Instead, he’d drawn her back into the suite and then out into the hall. Without a word.

  With just a light in his eyes she didn’t quite understand.

  She walked at his side now, trying to ignore the hand he had at the small of her back. She wasn’t accustomed to just playing along, or giving in, in situations where she was threatened. But she didn’t have a clue what to do now.

  “We will meet with the king, then you may return to our suite and tidy yourself. I am sorry we haven’t the time for a shower beforehand.”

  A vampire. She’d been abducted by a vampire. Now she had to find a way to escape him.

  He was strong. Every muscle she’d been pressed up against had felt rock hard and…big. His shoulders were the widest she had ever seen. Strong, sculpted, and perfect. He didn’t look human. No surprise there.

  He wore a medieval sword strapped to his hip.

  It went well with the turquoise tunic and navy pants he wore.

  It just…everything just seemed so weird to her. Mallory went through the motions of following him passively. Just trying to think.

  He held her hand, his skin scorching hers.

  What would he do to her brother when Rand arrived? She believed the vampire when he’d said he’d kill him—nothing could stop this creature from getting what he wanted.

  He wanted her. Mallory didn’t understand it or why he had chosen her.

  She and Mickey would have to find the way out of here themselves. Before Rand and Uncle Jason came for them.

  She let him lead her into another room.

  Fifteen minutes later, Mallory still hadn’t recovered from the shock.

  Not just Mickey. It wasn’t just Mickey there. Emily and Joselyn, her cousins, had been taken, too.

  She tried to fight off a full-blown panic attack. Mallory tried to think, to soak in the details so she could figure out a plan.

  She didn’t know how long had passed before she could think again.

  The vampire who had taken her cousin was the leader. And he barely took his eyes from Emily. Tall, strong, and commanding, he maneuvered her cousin around exactly how he wanted her. No matter how much Emily obviously wanted to resist. He lifted Emily like she weighed nothing at all.

  Joselyn’s vampire was even more terrifying. Her cousin looked dazed and just as terrified as Mallory felt.

  This wasn’t a random attack. These creatures had obviously planned it perfectly. Taken their time.

  She tried to run over all the angles while the beast hand-fed her fruit and smirked at her.

  He led her away from the breakfast room a few minutes later, and though she wanted to resist—to fight, scratch, claw at him—she forced herself not to. He was her most valuable source of information. And like it or not, she needed that information to formulate a working plan. And while she couldn’t escape him and his three friends all at once, she may be able to escape him alone.

  She almost had already.

  But the idea that she was
about to be alone with him terrified her. It was only early morning. Anything could happen now.

  “Your new clothes have arrived. I’ll give you a few minutes to take a shower or bath if you like. I’m sorry we didn’t have time before meeting back with your cousins. I have some work to do out here.”

  It was so…normal. His tone. Mallory didn’t know what else to do—she retreated to the bathing suite. It couldn’t be called anything else. It was as big as the entire first floor of her home.

  He’d had a servant set out a set of the white clothing that looked so much like what she wore to spar in, and a few turquoise scarves. She suspected the color was significant to him, as each of the four vampires who had abducted them wore different colors. Everyone they’d passed in the hall had worn scarves, too.

  She almost left it off on purpose.

  Then she thought better of it and slipped one around her waist and folded another up and stuck it in the deep pocket of the pants. She might be able to find a use for the extra somehow.

  Anything could be a weapon if needed. That was something her brother had taught her long ago.

  The vampire waited for her, sprawled over the couch like a lion. His hair curled around his head in dark chestnut waves, wild like a mane. This creature was a predator. She would remember that.

  His body looked strong, hot, and dangerous where he sprawled.

  His wolf stretched on the rug beside the couch. The animal just watched her. Mallory paused in the doorway to the bathroom and stared at the two beasts.

  Both just watched her. Like the animals they were.

  “Come, kitten. Tajic will not harm you, will never harm you. He’s already accepted you as his mistress. Come say hello.” The vampire lifted one hand and beckoned her. Coaxed.

  She wanted to throw something at him.

  Play along. She had to play along for now. It was her only option.

  Mallory bit her lip and stepped closer. Another animal whined, and she looked past the big brute of a wolf.

  Freedom, Joselyn’s sweet little border collie puppy, was curled up close to the wolf. Her tail thumped, but she stayed where she was.