by Joey W. Hill
Muttering a curse, he pulled off the Henley he’d donned over his T-shirt, since the club air in the offices was cold. He draped it over Ella’s shoulders, shifting behind her to hold her trembling body, give her warmth. Wolf had his mouth on that rivulet of blood, sucking on it, licking it.
“Ella.” Anwyn put her hand on Ella’s face, drew those pupil-dominated her eyes to her. “Wolf needs some of your blood to live. Will you give it to him, here and now?”
Ella blinked. Her voice came out with sound this time, but a little off-rhythm, like she still couldn’t hear herself. “Does he need a transfusion, or…”
She wasn’t connecting why he was licking her arm like his namesake recognizing the proximity of a raw steak. But her willingness was real. Gideon didn’t doubt that. If they’d been in a hospital, Ella would have donated blood to keep Wolf alive in a heartbeat. But no doctor would have allowed it until she was checked out.
This was the shit he hated, when it came to vampires. But even in this condition, there was no guarantee Wolf would take Gideon’s blood as easily, and they had only a spare few moments before the EMTs would be on top of them.
“Just follow his lead,” Anwyn said. They could hear the sirens, confirming Gideon’s concerns, but she kept her voice even.
Wolf grunted, trying to lift himself up on arms that didn’t really work. Ella, always the anticipatory sub, suddenly figured it out. Again, Gideon attributed it to shock, how she didn’t seem to question that this blood transfusion was going to be administered orally. She stretched out, not too hard since she seemed like she needed to melt into a horizontal position. Curling herself like a shrimp around Wolf’s head and shoulders, she brought her arm closer to his mouth.
She let out a startled cry when he struck at her forearm like a snake, piercing the vein with unsheathed fangs.
Hold, Gideon. It’s okay. Anwyn put her hand on him to reinforce it, before he could jerk Ella back.
Gideon was leaning over Ella, so close to Anwyn leaning over Wolf that they formed a protective arch over the two injured. Her calm hand and order, along with his knowledge of how vampires worked, were the only things that overrode his instinctive response. Even then, he had to clamp down on it, because he’d seen too many vampires kill innocents before.
“Ella, place your hand on Wolf’s face, speak to him,” Anwyn said. “So he knows he doesn’t have to be savage. He knows you’re offering your blood willingly to him.”
Ella’s obedience was so ingrained that she followed direction, no matter that she was shaking from shock, and her pupils stayed dilated like saucers.
“I’m here,” she said hoarsely. “I’m here, Master. It’s okay. I have what you need.”
Gideon tightened his grip on the girl. Anwyn’s hand rested on one area of Wolf’s round shoulder that hadn’t been shredded. Now her fingers also curled inward, a stroke of reassurance. She dipped her head further to speak into Wolf’s ear. A Mistress, totally in control, reaching out to a peer, another Dom.
“You are feeding from Ella, Wolf. Your little girl. Do not cause her harm. Ease up.”
“Mine,” he muttered, an animal growl that sent chills down Gideon’s spine. Wolf was older than Anwyn and normally a lot stronger. Not so much at the moment, but he was also combat trained. Gideon didn’t doubt he could still do serious damage, even unintentional.
“Don’t…touch,” Wolf said, a raspy snarl.
“I’m helping you,” Anwyn said smoothly. “I’m not touching her, but you are. You need to have a care with her.”
“Not…you. Him.”
He shifted his gaze to Gideon, pinned him with that lethal stare. Just in time, Gideon curbed the instinctive reaction, to curl his lip and match him snarl for snarl. At Anwyn’s glance, he instead lifted his hands off of Ella, albeit reluctantly. He stayed close.
Anwyn continued speaking. “It’s Gideon. He is helping to steady and protect her. He’s helping you protect her. Do you hear me? It’s Anwyn. Do you know you’re feeding on Ella? Wolf, do you know Ella?”
“Ella…Ella.” By slow degrees, his grip on her forearm eased, and his drinking from her became less gulping and manic. But she wasn’t going to be able to give him enough for them to move him. Not and survive it. Gideon was watching the girl’s face closely, and she was already pale as a sheet. She could have internal injuries.
A vampire’s life was often a violent one. Gideon had witnessed plenty of situations where a badly wounded vampire fed from a servant without endangering him or her, but they’d taken blood from a fully marked servant, not…
“Second mark, Wolf,” Anwyn said. “I know you’ve given her the first. Give her the second mark so you don’t kill her. Do it.”
Wolf stiffened, his eyes rolling up, wild, uncertain. “She’s yours, isn’t she?” Anwyn demanded. “Or does she belong to someone else?”
His fangs, already out, bared in threat.
They were surrounded by plenty of wood shards that could double as a stake. Gideon’s fingers itched to grab one. Just as a precaution.
Hold, Gideon.
Stop fucking baiting him.
Wolf might be only eighty something years old, but he was a scary-looking bastard, even this wounded. His pale gray eyes got that fierce white light look to them, promising death and destruction. The muscles of his face had altered so the predator was out front and center.
Gideon needed to get in there and offer his arm to Wolf, just like they’d intended from the beginning. He might resist, but he could die or drink. Gideon was betting he’d drink. He liked Wolf fine, but his Mistress was a foot away from that snarling visage. Nothing trumped that.
Except herself. Her expression was as cool and calm as the night she’d faced Gideon down for the first time. She didn’t flinch. It was something he loved about her as much as it gave him and Daegan ulcers. Well, the equivalent of ulcers, since human servants probably couldn’t get those, and a vampire definitely couldn’t.
She’d been human and way more fragile that first night he’d met her, and he’d been just as much of a beast as Wolf was now. It had turned out okay.
The thought didn’t do much to calm him, but at least they took up time. Fortunately, all of it happened in a blink, before Gideon’s protective instincts would override even Anwyn’s command.
Wolf surged up, just enough to drag his body halfway over Ella’s arm and side, because her body was still curled around his head and shoulders. His arm moved stiffly, but he tunneled under her cheek, and turned her head. He might not have managed it on his own, but Ella accommodated what he needed. She lifted her chin, averted her face.
Even though Wolf hadn’t revealed what he was to Ella, during sex almost all vampires liked to bite and mark that area, even when they weren’t formally marking it. If they’d been sexual with each other—no brainer there—some part of Ella would know what he was wanting.
In the next breath, he’d found her throat.
When his fangs struck the artery, Gideon saw Ella stiffen from the pain, but he also saw her manage it. Her quivering hand moved to rest on Wolf’s blood-stained head, his shoulder, an unspoken consent and welcome. Gideon saw her body ripple, her lips parting as Wolf gave her that shot of something more, not just a taking but a giving. The second mark.
There was no time for what-the-fucks or moral debate, he knew that, but hell…there was going to be fallout from this. A second mark would put Ella firmly inside the circle of the vampire world. And Wolf would be able to read her thoughts, speak to her in her head.
Shit and fuck.
Ella’s eyes rolled back, and she fainted. It wasn’t the standard reaction to a second mark, but since she’d just been through a major explosion, that last body stress had sent her into oblivion. Maybe by the time she woke, they’d have all this under control so she’d think it was a hallucination.
Wolf was drinking hard and fast now, as if he knew he could, but it was time to call it. Fortunately, neither Gideon nor Anwyn would have to be in the firing line
to try and break that connection.
“He’s had enough.”
Gideon felt that gut-loosening relief he preferred not to admit to, but was undeniably there, when Daegan arrived on the scene of something that was far-beyond-bad shit. The male vampire squatted next to him, his hand on Gideon’s shoulder, his other reaching out to brush a knuckle down Anwyn’s face. Her gratitude and relief were far more evident, but she was a girl. It was allowed.
The Mistress of Atlantis shot him a look that told Gideon he’d pay for that thought later. He was okay with that. “We need to get him moved,” he told Daegan. “Like, now.”
“Before then. The first responders are here. We’ll take him to Anwyn’s rooms below, and Ella, too. She’s safe for now and we can get her to the hospital later if needed.”
“Wolf,” Daegan said firmly, dropping his hand to Wolf’s shoulder. “You’ve had enough. Don’t drain your servant. Ella needs your care.”
Apparently hearing it said by a vampire old enough to have clear authority over him did the trick. Wolf released Ella. In the next second, Daegan had gathered up the large male like he was no heavier than a life-sized balloon animal and was gone.
Anwyn quickly bent and put pressure on the wounds in Ella’s throat. There’d been no time for Wolf to close them on his own, with the coagulants in his tongue. “I’ll take her,” she whispered to Gideon. “I can move faster. Stay here and handle whatever needs handling.”
They could already hear the voices of the police and EMTs, coming through the smoke, calling out to survivors. Gideon needed to ensure they didn’t see the security feed that had Ella, Perry and Wolf on it. Since they’d probably already learned there were people in the alley at the time of the blast, he needed to cover that story. All sorts of shit to manage.
The rest…well they’d just handle that later. Including Wolf’s reaction when he woke up. The guy who refused to bind himself to anyone was going to find out he’d given Ella a second mark. And that Anwyn had made that happen, even when her servant had been right there, able and willing to offer blood.
Wouldn’t that be a fun conversation?
Chapter Thirteen
She was in a jungle. It was oppressively hot, mosquitos whining around her ears so continuously it could drive her mad. His…his? His palms were sweaty on the gun, not because he was nervous, but because it was just that damn hot.
He had that feeling in his gut that today wasn’t going to be a good day. Not that any day in this cesspool corner of the world should be considered good. He knew some people said when the weather was nice, it was pretty, all the green, the rice paddy fields, the cries of the birds. He’d let Eden itself fall off the edge of the earth for five minutes at home, even at the height of a humid Florida summer, his mother’s iced tea wetting his throat, the sound of his dad cranking the ice cream maker.
There it was. Shit. That feeling, like some demon was drawing in a breath. He was yelling at his men, telling them to get down, get away, as thunder rolled and the jungle exploded in blood and fire…
This was the past. Yeah. It wasn’t a jungle. The explosion had been in the alley. The alley next to Atlantis. Perry shuffling toward him, hand out for the cigarette, a grateful look on his face that twisted in Wolf’s gut—sleeping in cat piss behind a dumpster and not caring. I’ve been there. Then came the change on Perry’s face, suddenly not like a homeless person at all. A direct look, full of deadly intent, his other hand reaching into his clothes…
And the world exploded into blood and fire.
Ella. God, fucking hell…where was his girl? She’d run between them. She’d known a split second before he had, and she’d run between them. He thanked all the gods he was a vampire, because he’d been able to snatch her back, turn and run a critical three steps before the detonation. But was she okay? He’d landed on her.
He remembered blood.
“I’m fine. I’m here. It’s okay.”
He felt her hand on his face, those slim, impossibly small fingers. So delicate. All of her, so delicate. “Ella.” He gripped her wrist with a fumbling hand, and had to bite back a vile curse at the pain that lanced through his back.
He was on his stomach on a mattress. Cool strips of something were across his back.
“It’s healing, Wolf,” Ella told him. “Don’t move if you can help it.”
He remembered blood again, but not the kind associated with injuries and explosions. Her blood on his tongue, in his throat, sweet, so sweet and rich, coursing through him, pulling him back from the edge. Christ, he could have taken too much, killed her. He needed to open his eyes, see her, make sure she was fine, but so much of his body wasn’t listening to him. That was also too much like another memory that he didn’t fucking like. Waking up in a hospital bed, surviving the unsurvivable, when death would have been so much easier.
“I need to move.” He had to fight to stay in control of himself, not lose his shit. His words clogged in his throat like a shower of gravel mixed with sawdust.
“Your back is laid open like a can of tuna,” said a brusque male voice he knew well. “The skin’s knitting, but it’s taking time. She could only give you so much. She’s not a third mark.”
No. Ella wasn’t a servant at all. That geographical locator she didn’t know about didn’t make her a servant. She still didn’t know what he was.
Though, considering he’d just revitalized himself on her blood, that might have changed. Time to get his mind unscrambled and figure out what the fuck was going on.
He doesn’t look so good, but they say he’ll be all right. Why won’t they take him to a hospital? You know why. Just nobody has said it straight out, because they’re hoping you didn’t notice and won’t say anything. Which, maybe you should do. Maybe it will make it more comfortable for him.
What the…?
“Ella.” Anwyn’s voice. “Go lie down for a bit. He’ll be fine. I’ll watch over him.”
“Oh, I really don’t think I should leave him. I mean, in case you need…”
“’S’okay,” Wolf rasped. He opened his eyes, a major accomplishment without the help of a pry bar, and discovered Ella was sitting on a pillow next to the mattress. She had her fingers overlapping his. He saw bruises, a torn and bloody shirt. It looked like her face had been cleaned, since it wasn’t coated with building dust like her arms and clothing. Her expression was creased with concern and stress, but since it all appeared to be focused on him, that meant she was likely okay. It filled him with a relief so strong it burned in his chest like acid. “I’m good. Go get some rest. That’s an order. You look…pale.”
“So do you. Of the two of us, I think that’s a more alarming symptom for you.”
He couldn’t help it, she knew how to make him smile, even right now. “Go lie down,” he said, as sternly as he could manage. “I’ll come find you.”
She seemed dubious about the idea of him getting up anytime soon, but when he spoke in a semblance of his normal no-nonsense voice, different emotions filled her face. She was wearing her green contacts. He was going to tell her never to wear contacts around him again. He wanted to see her real eyes, always. But the different color didn’t mask the tears that filled them, spilled forth with honest relief. She put her hand on his jaw. “I should have known ordering someone around would be the first thing you’d be able to do.”
He detected a snort of laughter. Gideon. He managed to look past Ella and see the male, standing beside his Mistress. The laughter had been grim, though, and the male’s blue eyes weren’t laughing.
Wolf’s mind was working better now, and other things were coming back. While it was a relief to push back the nightmares of his past resurrected by this explosion, they were being replaced by disturbing, present-day nightmarish possibilities.
He held those thoughts to himself, though, as Ella made it to her feet with Gideon’s help, the man supporting her underneath the arm. Ella kept one hand on Wolf until the last possible moment, slipping from his jaw to his n
eck, to the point of his shoulder. She didn’t say anything further, but her eyes said plenty.
“Go take care of yourself,” he said. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” But she looked at him for an extra moment or two, some puzzlement in her gaze, as if she was picking up two different messages from him. Then he realized he still had her other hand.
He needed to see her clean, so he made himself let her go. “Stay nearby,” he said. “But care for yourself.”
“All right, Master,” she said softly. Then she turned away with quiet dignity. She looked up at Gideon and gave him a reassuring nod, but she pushed away from him enough to walk on her own. The effort obviously cost her. He’d seen spryer eighty-year-olds. Humans, that is.
“He prefers to be the only male touching me,” she told Gideon. “Especially right now.”
Memory flashed, him baring his fangs, wanting Gideon to get his hands off of Ella, a completely unexpected thought. Gideon had no designs on Ella. And Ella wasn’t Wolf’s, not like that. Though his gut called him a fucking liar.
Gideon’s jaw flexed, but he respected her request. Though he stayed close and followed her, obviously picking up the same thing Wolf had. That she might not make it to wherever Anwyn was sending her without help.
“Did she get medical attention?” Wolf asked. He didn’t like this, stuck on his belly like a legless crab, but the pain of his healing torso and upper thighs was starting to make itself known, promising him exponentially more agony if he so much as twitched. It would be a lot harder to remain in control if it escalated from a dull roar to a full storm.
“Yes. She’s been tended. Right by your side.” Anwyn wore what he’d seen her in last, jeans and a T-shirt, but they were dirty and blood-stained, too, her hair scraped back from her face and held with a clip. It emphasized the tense harshness of her features, even as she gave him a steady response, what he needed.
“She refused to leave you until you regained consciousness. Apparently, there is only one Master who can order her around when she’s determined to have her way.”
