Blood Crown

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “Is that a bad word?”

  Devin looks at Ella. “Sorta.”

  Ella’s face pinches, and she opens her mouth.

  Jenni interrupts, though. “Yes, that’s true. In fact, I don’t hold much hope that we can return to my condo. Too much heat.” Jenni’s laugh sounds like a sob.

  Devin cocks her head. “We can find this chick, the werewolf girl?”

  “Adrianna?”

  Devin waves her palm around. “Yeah her. She’s responsible for you, ya know—what you are now, right?”

  “How?”

  “She bit you! She made you a woof.”

  “That’s right, Jen-Jen, she gave you the super woof powers.”

  “Adi gave me my life,” Jenni states simply.

  “Yeah, okay. But what life? A life where you are running from everyone and you don’t know what to do.” Devin blows a hair out of her face, clearly dejected.

  Ella pats Jenni’s knee.

  “Don’t feel like I know my purpose, not really,” Jenni mutters in partial agreement, giving a wan smile to Ella.

  “You’re gonna take care of me and Mama,” Ella says with the pure confidence, like it’s the truest fact in the universe, a grin splitting her face.

  Jenni reaches forward, taking each one’s hand. “Absolutely. If I can’t figure something out, then at least I can get you safe.”

  “What about Bray?” Devin asks in a thready voice.

  Jenni bites her lip, but she’s never shirked a responsibility in her life—or broken a promise. Being a werewolf is not enough to see that begin to happen now.

  “He can try.”

  “Try what?” Devin asks.

  She squeezes their hands, one large, one small—both trusting in her. Jenni’s eyes never leave theirs.

  “Whatever.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Adi

  Adi and Slash have been on the move for hours. But they’re on foot. The Northwestern is located in Gig Harbor, and they were way up by the Hood Canal Bridge, the Olympic Peninsula side.

  Sure, they could shift. Well, Slash could.

  But Adi would lose the whelp if she does. And normally, changing while pregnant wasn’t possible for a female anyway. So the best Adi was going to get was quarter change.

  And Slash doesn’t have that option.

  Since they can’t match up, they might as well hoof it on equal footing. No pun intended.

  So they’re stuck walking, which is an insult—Werewolves walking. But the stretch where they’re traveling has only narrow patches of wooded areas as they head south. It’s not enough camouflage, especially when they crossed the Hood Canal bridge. That was the lamest. She and Slash got plenty of notice. The wind whistling across the bridge, the cars and their occupants staring at two obvious psychos crossing on foot.

  Yeah. Psychos ʼR Us. That’s what we are.

  “Adrianna,” Slash says for her ears only.

  She turns her head in his direction, trudging beside him through sheer grit. Adi’s fucking beat. Emotionally, physically. Stick a fork in her—she’s so done.

  The low white noise of cars rushing on the highway to her left and the south of them is mind-numbing to her sensitive hearing. The narrow stand of thick trees they’ve been walking through for the last couple of hours does nothing to block it from their sensitive hearing, and it’s starting to stress Adi out.

  “Yeah, stud,” she answers without her normal enthusiasm.

  Slash stops her with a gentle hand on her arm.

  Adi turns.

  “We need to eat.”

  “Yeah, duh.”

  His bright smile is sudden and unexpected. “I do love you.”

  Adi simply takes a step nearer, and in the next breath, his heavy arms close around her.

  Slash’s palm cups the back of her skull, and he strokes her head. “I know you’re exhausted.”

  She nods, too tired to talk.

  His breath warms her scalp. “There’s an eatery just ahead, at the overpass where there’s a refueling station, as well.”

  Adi tips her head back, smirking. “Slash, ya can’t say things like ‘eatery’ and ‘refueling station.’”

  He would only appear like he was frowning to someone who knows him. But to the untrained eyes, it definitely looks like a scowl.

  It’s the scar, Adi thinks. It makes every expression less clear and more intense, or visually, it sometimes seems like he’s pissed off.

  Slash’s inky eyebrow rises. “But that is what those things are.”

  “Ah-huh, Big Boy.” Adi traces her finger over his bottom lip, so easily distracted by her mate.

  His frown deepens. “I don’t understand—”

  “Just kiss me and stop worrying about words and shit.”

  Slash bends forward at the same time his arm tightens around her, lifting her off the ground.

  Their lips brush softly, and Adi feels the slight bump of his scar tissue.

  She licks it and he sucks in a gasp.

  Before Slash can retreat, Adi winds her arms around his neck and hops, wrapping her legs around his narrow waist and moving in for the kill. She kisses his lips over and over, paying special attention to the imperfection so he knows that she doesn’t give a crap.

  Adi will never care about that superficial stuff.

  This is the Were she’s loved since she was a whelp. She’s not going to let him escape her advances.

  “Female,” he growls.

  “Mhmmm,” she purrs against his mouth.

  “You make me lose myself.”

  That’s the idea.

  He pulls his face back, looking down into her eyes. Slash’s pupils are dilated. “However much I would love to take you right now, right here, I must see you nourished.”

  Adi pouts. Moon. “You’re so responsible.”

  “Someone has to be,” Slash points out.

  “Ah-huh.” Adi unwinds from him and slides down the front of his body. Undeterred, her fingers cup his balls.

  He groans. “You are a bad female. Very bad.”

  “So discipline me.” Adi’s lips curl, baiting her mate.

  Slash’s dark eyes hood. “Do not tempt me, my female.”

  He doesn’t say the words like he’s angry. No. Adi hears the desire in his voice and scents it from his very pores.

  But she’s gotta admit Slash is right. It’s not just her in the equation any longer. Adi’s got a whelp growing inside her. Their offspring. She has to eat because the whelp needs the nourishment.

  Her days of blowing through meals with a dismissive “fuck it” are apparently over.

  “I guess I’m irresponsible,” she admits quietly.

  “And young. And newly mated,” Slash adds, lifting her chin with a finger. “There’s no shame in wanting to mate. Why do you think the human’s call it the ‘honeymoon phase’?”

  Adi sighs. “Okay.” She sounds sullen to her own ears. She can’t really help it. She wants to get to the Northwestern and leave all this road-weariness behind them.

  But it’s not realistic to think they wouldn’t need to stop for food. There’s no hunting around here. Too congested. Too many eyes.

  “Ready?” Slash asks and lifts a muscular arm, pointing to a distant spot she can barely make out between the branches of the trees.

  “Sure.”

  He laces his fingers through hers. “If you become too tired, I will carry you.”

  Adi snorts. “I’m not that big of a baby.”

  Slash does not comment.

  Stopping, Adi whacks him on his arm.

  His smile is small, making her more annoyed.

  Males.

  It’s a Denny’s restaurant tucked inside a Love’s gas station. It’s more of a trucker thing than a simple gas station... and it’s huge.

  Adi’s eyes go everywhere at once, hitting on showers within the restrooms. That interests Adi almost more than food. She continues to stare longingly at the broad sign just to the right of the bathro
oms advertising the showers.

  Slash follows the direction of her gaze and comments in a droll voice, “After we eat.” His voice might sound casual, but his stance isn’t. His eyes are sharp, taking in their immediate environment, and his nostrils flare subtly.

  He’s trying to protect her, cataloging potential risks.

  “The trolls and weirdo druid witches are long gone,” Adi attempts to reassure him in a voice too low for human hearing.

  “I know.”

  Adi shifts her weight, glancing at the restaurant then back at him. “You seem nervous.”

  Slash turns, drawing her into a small alcove bricked in by the exterior of the building. Cupping her chin, he tilts her face up until their gazes lock. “I am not taking one chance with my mate. My pregnant mate.” A low growl slips out between his bared teeth.

  “You’re going all Alpha on me, Slash,” Adi says in a breathy voice.

  “I am an Alpha of the Red. We are renown for our protective instincts toward our mates.”

  “Uh-huh,” Adi says, drowning in his brown eyes. He’s so intense, Slash makes her forget there’s anyone else in the world but them. This moment.

  His gaze roams her face, his smile slow. “Don’t make fun. I conduct myself this way solely for your welfare.”

  “I know,” Adi says softly.

  With a final look around them, Slash kisses her swiftly on the lips, and capturing her hand, he tugs her behind him into the restaurant part of the establishment.

  Slash

  Adi peruses the menu while Slash surreptitiously pulls out a wad of money, glancing at the folded bundle underneath the dinette and silently executing a swift tally.

  Slash does not have to concern himself with money as a whole. He has lived over two centuries and amassed plenty of wealth, enough for his meager needs, anyway. He looks across at Adrianna. Her eyes appear lit from within as they continue to skim the glossy menu.

  “I’m gonna have one of everything,” she announces without a shred of subtlety.

  Slash chuckles, his chest swelling. A sense of primal pride takes hold. He can take care of his mate’s needs.

  After clearing his throat, he says, “Order whatever you like.”

  Adrianna’s smile is a beacon, warming him from within as they make eye contact.

  Slash glances away from the brightness of her smile, chest tight. Love is a dangerous thing, feeding off vulnerability and fueled by passion.

  One has no hope of escaping.

  In his case, Slash finds that every moment he spends with Adrianna, he falls more deeply in love with her.

  She looks up from the menu again. “What are you thinking?”

  Slash’s lips curl at the corners. “Things that will remain within my own counsel.”

  “Pfft.” Adrianna rolls her eyes. “Share, Slash—it won’t kill ya.”

  He shakes his head minutely just as their waitress strolls up. “Hi ya. You guys decide?” A middle-aged human female with a streak of gray at the roots of her hair and faded red dye looks between them, and Slash assesses the human woman with his nose, a default of all Were.

  Cancer.

  He knows when Adrianna identifies it as well, her eyes widening in distress. Slash is sure she makes an instant connection between this woman and the human female, Jenni, whom she injected with her essence.

  Adrianna stares at the waitress, whose slate-blue eyes would be her most arresting feature if she were not being consumed by the disease. As it is, her body is struggling so hard that her vitality has been rubbed away to a dull shine of its former luster.

  The hungry disease began in the lung—no doubt caused by cigarettes, as that is the smell that clings to her like a second skin—and has now metastasized.

  Slash is no human doctor, but the scent of death has invaded his nose, and he knows the human female is not long for this earth.

  “Well?” she asks, obviously impatient with his mate’s scrutiny, narrowing her steely blue eyes.

  Adrianna startles, a soft pink flush infusing her cheeks. “Sorry.” Adrianna swiftly glances at the menu again and continues, “I’ll have a triple Denny’s deluxe cheeseburger with fries, a peanut butter chocolate shake, a side salad with extra ranch, chicken strips...”

  Stacy, their waitress’s nametag states, lowers her pen and just listens to the next six items. “Are you—is this all for you?” She points the end of the pen at Adrianna, unable to contain her surprise.

  Apparently, werewolves do not frequent Denny’s.

  Adrianna smiles, her former blush flaring to life again. “Yeah.”

  With great care, Stacy swivels to face Slash. “And for you?”

  Slowly, Slash’s raises his hand, and two of his fingers spring up. “Make that two.”

  The waitress emits a low snort. “Good Lord. I’m sorry, but I’m not sure you guys can eat all that. Won’t lie, I’ve never taken an order that big.”

  Adrianna grins at Slash as he slides his hand across the table, and they thread their fingers.

  In a rare and spontaneous confession, Slash admits, “My wife is eating for two.”

  Tears shine in Adrianna’s eyes as the waitress’s gaze softens.

  “Well now, that makes more sense.” Stacy clicks her pen closed and strolls off, but not before casting a puzzled glance in his direction.

  Adrianna’s pregnancy doesn’t explain his duplicate order.

  Slash has always had a fine appetite.

  All Were do.

  Adi leans back, dumping her hands on the bench seat at her sides, and heaves out a long, contented sigh. “Oh my God, it’s official—I’ve become a Holstein cow.”

  Slash chuckles, plucking a toothpick out of a hard plastic holder handily situated near the condiments. “That breed is primarily milking cows, heart of my heart.”

  “Whatevers.” She pats her full stomach, which appears flat to Slash. “I’m still stuffed to the gills.”

  “Interesting expression.”

  Adrianna gifts him with narrowed eyes. “Don’t get all cagey with the verbiage pal. I’m all angsty and hormonal.”

  Already? Slash frowns. It does seem early for that. However, he is not a senseless male, so he remains silent.

  A smart move in his opinion.

  They sit in contented silence. The clinking of silverware and voices of hushed conversations are a pleasant, dull background roar to their enjoyment of each other and respite from the intense situations and ongoing travel.

  What Slash would not do to scoop her up and take Adrianna somewhere soft and warm. Somewhere safe. Then he could lavish his female with all the attention a mate deserves.

  “Okay, moon face, I’m gonna go shower.” Her lips tilt.

  Moon face? Instantly, Slash schools his expression.

  “Ugh—don’t do that. You were looking at me all soft and sexy.”

  Moon. “I am not soft, female.”

  Adrianna stands, and his eyes sweep her form. He hardens just from looking at her.

  “You’re soft with me,” she states in a barely-there voice.

  He drums his fingers on the cheap Formica tabletop and, after a few seconds, concedes, “You are not wrong.”

  When their eyes meet, hers love him down to his toenails.

  Slash has never been happier, and a flush of heat settles at his nape.

  “I know I’m not wrong.” Smiling, she leans over and kisses his head. When she holds out her palm, he fills it with the coin of the human world. Enough for her to get clean.

  She grabs the beaten backpack from beneath their table and saunters off in the direction of the women’s restroom.

  Does she put more sway into her hips? he wonders, studying his sexy and vibrant mate. Slash cannot be sure, but his prick throbs with wanting her.

  Adrianna disappears into the women’s restroom, out of sight, and Slash tries to relax. He knows that she is relatively safe. The trolls were dispatched, along with Della, the evil witch.

  Yet his instincts i
tch.

  He has learned over the centuries to trust that gut feeling.

  Stacy comes over to their table and slides the check underneath the ketchup bottle. Bending over the table, she begins to collect the huge number of dirty dishes. A smile of disbelief affixed to her face, she gives a slight shake of her head. Balancing the load precariously, she makes her way back, to the kitchen, staggering slightly under the weight.

  Slash has a momentary pang of guilt for the human. Here she is, working in the last days of her life, while her mortality chases her.

  He hopes that the wad of hundred dollar bills he stuffed in her apron will ease her in some way.

  Slash waits more or less impatiently for Adrianna. Just when he thinks he must check, he catches sight of her in his periphery as she steps from the women’s restroom.

  At that exact moment, he scents a Were.

  The male Were violently drives open the glass door to the main entrance of the restaurant.

  The heavy metal bar crashes into the wall, pinning it in the drywall and causing the door to remain open.

  Patrons look up from their conversations.

  Slash’s nostrils flare as he stands, hands curling into fists.

  Adrianna meets his eyes, clutching her backpack against her chest, and he randomly notices her hair is twisted up into a towel-like turban.

  None of that matters. What does matter is the Were has scented his mate. And he is closer to her than Slash.

  A mass of thoughts slides through his mind in the space of a heartbeat of time.

  It is bad for them if Slash behaves with conspicuous conduct.

  But his beast doesn’t care about protocol or witnesses. It only cares about protecting what belongs to it—and Slash.

  He shifts to wolfen at the same moment the Were rushes Adrianna.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Julia

  “Tharell,” Julia says, greeting the sidhe as he rises from the invisible perch where he was seated. Every bit of the otherworldly color of his deep-violet skin and piercing azure eyes strikes her all over again as though for the first time. Julia’s simply not used to seeing jewel-toned people.