Large hands clamped onto either side of her head and she was helpless to move in the jaws of their hold.
Just helpless, Julia seethed with frustration.
The poison of his body poured into her mouth in a steady stream and she fought, trying to move her head, but steel bands of flesh held her in position.
He pressed his forearm onto her mouth and with his other hand he pinched her nostrils together and she sucked the blood down into her throat as she began to clench her teeth around his arm.
He didn't react like she thought he would. He dragged her against himself, Pierce releasing her in surprise. Her mouth on his arm, clamping down. Julia bit down with everything she had.
His eyes dilated, the silver disappearing to be replaced by deep crimson. He pressed her against him, his fangs completely extended.
“William! Control yourself!” Pierce yelled, coming for him.
Julia hung on for dear life as she watched those black eyes look at her with such longing and loneliness. As he reared to strike a fist crashed into the side of his temple.
Her mouth was torn off his forearm, her body sliding off his lap onto the floor.
Julia lay in a small heap on her side as a fire burnt inside her. It became a delicious roar within. She was being consumed by heat. It burned and itched. She melted into the intense warmth, her consciousness narrowing.
As her mind dimmed, she saw the other creature check on William, his black eyes shut.
The creature named Pierce looked in her direction and he was sideways.
Julia knew what else he was.
Vampire.
She fell into a deep abyss of grayness, her mind shielding her from what she couldn't handle.
She floated swiftly down her memory pipeline, grateful for the escape it gave her.
*
last day
Jason had his fingers entwined in Julia's, their last day of school finally here, his plane tickets bought for Vegas. They were gonna do it. She looked up at him and smiled. He looked into the light gold depths and almost stumbled. She always had that affect on him. He'd been drawn to her from the beginning. A small furrow stood between her brows. Julia's hand came to her temple, rubbing.
He pulled her over to the side of the hall, the sea of bodies and backpacks jostling past, an excited buzz thrumming in the halls. He slid his palm underneath her honey-colored hair and wrapped the back of it on her neck, gently kneading the soft skin.
“Is it the headaches again?” he asked. Jules had been having these bone crusher headaches. Jason thought it was the stress at home, trying to plan a secret elopement could take its toll on a girl. He smirked.
“Huh, you really care!” she said, giving him a mock-scowl, putting her hands on her hips.
Her luscious hips, he thought.
“No!” Ah... I was just thinking all your super secret spy moves you're pullin' around Lily are getting kinda old?” He cocked an eyebrow.
She nodded, true... but. “Actually,” Julia looked down at her hands that had found their way to Jason's hips and she couldn't look away, a blush came over her face.
Jason put a gentle finger under her chin and raised it until their eyes met. Chocolate meeting gold. “What is it?”
She shoved her erotic impulses away and concentrated on his question instead, the blush still staining her cheeks.
Jason saw the high color marking her cheekbones a delicate pink and wondered what she'd been thinking about. He opened his mouth to repeat the question and she interrupted, “It's the dreams, I'm having them again.”
“Oh,” Jason said, pulling her in against his body. He hadn't liked the dreams. He wasn't going to tell her, but he'd begun having some of his own. And they were goddamn doozies.
“Get a room!” Kevin yelled, walking by, arm slung around Cynthia. Jason gave Kevin the finger and Julia grabbed it in the air.
“Don't,” she hissed, giving him another scowl.
Jason threw up the other hand and flipped him another bird.
“You're impossible!” Julia said sternly. Then she smiled.
She began laughing and convulsed into a stream of irrepressible giggles.
“That's so helpful, Jules. You're so on it.”
Julia looked at Jason and he was standing there, in full view of the world, giving Kevin the double-finger send off.
Oh my god, Julia clutched her sides, howling.
Julia was bent over until she noticed a pair of hot pink boots come into her line of sight.
She grabbed Cyn's sweater and hauled herself up.
“Hey asswipe, you're not sensing any adults around?” Kevin asked.
Jason dropped his hands as one of their teachers made his way toward them in a huff of righteous Adult Indignation.
Terrell.
Great. Instead of calming down, it had the opposite effect and Julia continued laughing, tears streaming down her face.
Terrell lurched up to the group. Taking a look at the Wade girl, doubled over in fits of hysterical giggling, he dismissed her. It was the basketball boys that he had his attention trained on. He didn't care if the Caldwell boy had got an A in his class, there was something fishy about them. Especially that never-apply-herself-girlfriend of his.
He got right up in Caldwell's grill, momentarily nonplussed that the kid had him by four inches. “Listen here, Caldwell. I don't give a good lick about how great you think you are, or that it's your last day here, this isn't the court. You don't own the school, the halls, nothing. Act like an adult and maybe, just maybe, you'll become one someday.”
Terrell had sobered Julia up and she didn't like how Terrell was talking to Jason. Big surprise, she didn't like Terrell that much. She and Cyn had their arms crossed and Kevin stood looming over Terrell.
He didn't seem intimidated and Julia suddenly remembered a term that Lily used, “little man's syndrome.” Maybe he had a dose of that, she thought.
“We clear?” Terrell asked. But he wasn't really asking. He was commanding. He wanted a certain kind of response.
Please don't get nailed on the last day, Julia thought, seeing Jason's fists clench and loosen. She watched him notch down his anger at Terrell and her shoulders relaxed. Looked like things were gonna settle down.
Then Terrell looked at her. Really looked at her, starting at her head and ending at her feet, sweeping over her private parts with a lingering look.
Gross!
“Hey perv!” Cyn squeaked. “Why don't you go die somewhere?”
But it was Jason that knotted his fist in the teacher's collar and dragged him close. “Don't you look at her,” he said in a low voice, violence swirling beneath the surface.
Kevin was prying his fingers off of Terrell. “Don't... he deserves it but don't. He's pushin' ya.”
Their eyes met and Jason released Terrell, pulling Julia behind him protectively.
He looked smug. “I knew you'd mess up. This is all I needed to get you where I want you.”
Jason was confused, he'd seen the perv look at Julia and some of the other girls but what did it have to do with today? Why had he been so overt with Julia? His eyes narrowed on the teacher.
Jason planted his legs apart, hands on his hips, looking around once to make sure Julia was behind him and safe. This guy had lost it.
Kevin hit him in the arm and Jason's face whipped back to Terrell as Cyn gasped. Jason became focused on the gun that was naked in Terrell’s hand.
What-the-hell was this? Jason thought, backing away, Julia a warm presence at his back.
Julia wasn't laughing now as kids in the hall, who had just been thinking how much trouble Jason was going to be in, scattered like beetles out of a jar, screaming as they ran down the hall.
Julia's headache slammed into her uncontrollably, spearing into her temple at a fever pitch. But it was the frenzied gaze of the teacher that she couldn’t look away from. His beady hazel eyes shifted between the three kids, seeking.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of Julia behind Jason a
nd said, “It's you. If you were not here, then I could... stop having this pain. The pain would stop..” he said, brandishing his gun in the air, kids slamming themselves on the hallway floor.
Julia felt something integral slip into place, the pain slipping away and becoming a burning mass.
“Hey whack-job!” Kevin said, going for the gun at the same time that Jason did. It wasn't choreographed and as their bodies moved, a gap opened and Terrell pointed the barrel.
At Julia.
All that focus, a warm liquid pain that she buried for the moment came to her in a sliding push. With nothing but raw emotion, she looked at the black hole of the gun and mentally shoved as the hammer pulled back.
It clicked.
Time slowed down, Jason batting the gun away even as the bullet rushed toward Julia, Cyn screaming in the background and Kevin landing on Terrell, their bodies crashing to the floor.
Julia moved as the bullet entered the curtain of her hair instead of the fragile bones of her face, its course veering at the last moment and she fell sideways away from the trajectory. Hitting Cyn, they both stumbled into the lockers.
“Julia!” Jason hollered, sprinting to her side, kicking the gun away as he came. His eyes frantically took in her body, checking for damage.
She was unscathed.
Miraculously.
As sirens wailed in the background Jason turned around, leaving Julia in Cyn's arms and grabbed a fistful of hair on the top of Terrell's head. Using it like the dull side of a hammer he picked his head up and slammed it into the floor.
Again and again.
Cops came and pulled him off but the damage was done. Terrell lay in a pool of his own blood, spreading into the soles of all who had gathered.
Read More
The Blood series 1-3
***Love the DEATH world? Please read on ....
VAMPIRE
An Alpha Claim Brief-Bites® Novelette
Episode 1
New York Times Bestselling Author(s)
MARATA EROS
TAMARA ROSE BLODGETT
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Marata Eros
Copyright © 2015 Tamara Rose Blodgett
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
www.tamararoseblodgett.com
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Cover art by: Willsin Rowe
Proofed by: Corinna
Synopsis
Narah Adrienne is a bounty enforcer in the near future. She runs the seedy side of her game, capturing criminals too dangerous for the local law enforcement. Using unorthodox methods, she finds herself in the crosshairs of the Magistrate for too many allowable kills for the quarter.
And her head hurts like hell.
Aeslin is part of an elite vampire squad of Turners. A rare sect of vampire scouts who possess the ability to find women with enough undead blood to be turned into full vampire. As the numbers of the supernaturals dwindle, it is the hope of the Nobles that extinction can be a thing of the past with female hybrids.
In a race against time and common enemies, can Aeslin find the one female who is meant to be turned and also his parallel soul? Or will the fabled carrot the Nobles dangle turn out to be a lie perpetuated by desperation?
Chapter 1
Narah
My legs are kicked up on the desk, the toes of my left combat boot stacked on the heel of my right. I lean my feet a couple of inches to the left and look at my boss.
Kinda wish I hadn't.
The tongue-lashing was going to be brutal, and not the fun kind. I just barely hold back a snort of self-serving comedy.
“Narah,” Casper leans into the desk, edging a butt cheek on the only part not covered by my assortment of shit. My eyebrow cocks. Perturbed doesn't cover it. If I wanted a butt on my desk, I'd ask.
“What?” I bark with anticipation.
A vein in Casper's forehead throbs and I dial it back some. No need to bring the guy to heart failure.
“What?” I repeat more good-naturedly, though both of us know I'm nothing of the sort.
He sighs, scrubbing a palm over his face. Hair almost as white as swan feathers glows under the LED lighting in my tiny office, and his glacial eyes tighten, fighting for a view of my face over the top of my boot.
I jack my feet down and stuff them underneath my desk. My fingers itch to go to my smart phone. Anything to not commit to this conversation.
“You know we appreciate your skill set.”
Blah, blah, stinking-blah.
“But we can't have you pulling firearms on all your bounties.”
My bottom lip pops out in a pout. “It was a very small gun, Casper.” I put my index and thumb almost touching.
“Using manstopper ammunition?”
He might have a small point.
“Outlawed in 1898,” Casper adds.
I shrug a bare shoulder, my tank top skin-tight against my small frame. I find loose clothes are handles to make a bludgeon against me easier. I nail the targets but if there's nothing for them to grab onto, so much the better.
“I like antique weaponry and ammunition,” I say with deliberate nonchalance.
“Really?” Casper says and I wince at the sound of his voice. “Let's run down the list of target fatalities.”
Hmmm.
“Target 103, lethal stabbing.”
I lean back in my chair and cock my neck back, staring at the dingy ceiling. A water stain has spread out from the center in a pattern of copper lines that somehow resemble a flower opening.
It's sort of like watching clouds outside, but inside.
“Narah!”
I sigh, answering the ceiling. “Yeah.”
“Target 424, beheading.”
Yeah, that'd been messy.
“Again, I was in fear for my life,” I say, not sounding defensive.
At. All.
“Thirteen times?” Casper asks softly.
My chin snaps down and I meet his eyes. Mine are big and golden hazel like a cat's, and that's why I hide them behind my aviator shades. The sun hurts like hell. I've always been sensitive to sunlight.
I shrug. It'll get me nowhere to fight with Casper. Who has the nickname in the office of, The Ghost. No one says it to his face though. I fight a snicker.
“We are the last profession for use of lethal force, you know. It's not goddamned 2015, when everyone thought all physical force was necessary in some capacity.”
I'm in the wrong era, I muse with regret.
“We are the last stand against the criminals of our time. When the police can't nail them, then it's up to us. But Narah,” Casper scrubs his head, his crewcut bristling from the contact, “we can't have you killing all the targets. They must be brought to justice.”
And of course, if I kill a target, Casper doesn't get credits. That's what this is really about. I bring in the most targets in our office. I get results and he gets credits for my hard work.
We stare at each other. I won't break and Casper knows it. “You're the finest bounty hunter we have. Your instincts are uncanny, and you never let being a woman get in your way...”
I lunge to my feet and Casper jerks to his, eyeing me warily.
Good, my desk is finally free of his ass.
“Nothing about me being a woman comes into play here.”
Casper shoots out an exhale like a cannon. “Everything about it matters. You're smaller, you're vulnerable to things a man could never be.”
Rape is the clear inference.
“You think a man can't be raped?” I bark out a laugh. “You think that my looks don't disarm. They do, Cas.” My eyes laser down on him and his shift away. “You know I'm a proficient, Level Ten.”
“Nothing to sneeze at,” he concedes and opens his mouth to add more, perhaps dig his grave a little deeper.
I raise my palm. Nothing to sneeze at. I can feel a royal conniption fit brewing. “No. If I've killed while gunning for a target,” Casper frowns at my wording which causes me to grin, “then they needed dying. Period.”
Casper walks to my office door. “I'm sorry, Narah, I've done what I could, but the law states that there can't be more than ten sanctions in one quarter. You have thirteen. I got the bonus three waived.” He whips his palm in the air like he's performing a magic trick. “Now you'll have to go before the magistrate.”
Fuck. They'd plug me a second ass after a first class reaming. If—if I could even bounty again.
I jerk my leather jacket off the back of my chair and sling it on. A bright headache, a new friend of mine of late, settles into my temples with zeal. I press my fingers against my head.
I hate not having a target. The chase is the one thing that makes my life worth living. No longer an outcast—always in the game.
Now the rules are being threatened.
And all I want to do is play.
Chapter 2
Aeslin
Edan jerks a thumb my way, throwing a towel I deftly catch. I dab at the sweat running like a river from my scalp and making its way to the waistband of my work out gear.
“Corcoran's asking for you.”
I look at him, narrowing my eyes.
“Hey man, don't kill the messenger,” Edan's hands spread away from his body.
He'd look so much more innocent if he had even one spot of bare skin. Edan's tatted from head to toe. Well... that's not entirely accurate. Don't think his feet hold the tats of our species. Or his face.
Turners are required to be marked.
It's grounds for immediate execution to civilian vampires if they touch us. After all, we're the only savior of our dying race. They can't miss our marks. In the human world, tattoos no longer stand out. We hide in plain sight now.
I flick irritated eyes to him. “I'm on leave, Edan.”
Death Incarnate Page 29
