by H. D. March
Storm stepped before her and gripped her chin. “You are so going to love this.” She gave a sharp laugh. “But not as much as I am.”
Somehow, Jess didn’t want to think about what Storm had planned for her, good it wasn’t. She resisted the urge to spit in her face, mainly because she wasn’t sure of the bitch’s reaction. And Jess was many things, but brave wasn’t the top of her list. The position she found herself in left her wide open, in more than one sense.
Storm’s index finger curled and flicked forward, she indicated to a male.
He stood before her, and Jess frowned as he appeared to study her. She prayed that’s all he would do and called out to Rune. She sent a prayer and begged him to come, to save her. She didn’t know if it would work, but it gave her a sense of hope.
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. No frigging way was she seeing this. The bitch Storm had to be pulling a stunt.
An inhuman growl razed through the room, along with the snapping of bones. Jess stared in horror at the beast; the man had disappeared and before her stood a furred wolf creature on heavily muscled legs. His teeth glinted yellow, a globule of spittle rolled down his face. His amber eyes tinged with red, they burned over her, and she tried to choke down her scream.
Jess briefly closed her eyes, praying she wasn’t seeing this, it was a trick. Had to be, and the bitch Storm intended scaring the hell out of her. Jess had to concede she was doing a bloody good job. Another male lumbered forward and dropped to the floor, his body writhed as the transformation took place, his skin reverted to fur, his hands to claws.
Jess swallowed the soaring terror, bile soured in her mouth, and her heart hammered in her chest. This was so not real.
Storm smiled, yet her eyes remained cold. “And now the entertainment begins; my friends enjoy inflicting pain. And you are about to experience it first-hand.”
When the first slash of a whip scaled over her back, she knew Storm wasn’t lying.
“Fuck!” Her scream rent the air, it blasted over everything. Never in her life had she experienced such a tortuous experience. “You bastard.”
“Keep thinking that because this is just the start,” whispered Storm into her ear. “They may even fuck you before you die, or after, it makes no difference to them.”
Frigging great, wolves that want sex, pulse optional? Jess groaned; she couldn’t believe she’d fallen for the lies the bitch had come out with. That she had believed her deceitful words. A whimper broke out as the whip wrapped around her back, scaling her skin, it ripped it apart.
“Does it hurt?” Storm’s poisoned question shivered over her,
“Nah, my Brazilian wax was worse.” She attempted without success to arch away from each slash. “What do you think?”
“That it needs to be harder.” She indicated to the silent attacker. “The fool needs it stronger, give her what she wants.”
Jess screamed into each savage stroke that curled and smashed over her skin. Her thoughts raced again to Rune, please help me?
Storm gripped her head forcing her to meet her face and lied. “Don’t waste your time calling for him, this room is steel, and nothing gets out of here.”
“How did you—?”
“I know exactly where your thoughts are going.”
“Frigging great.” Jess screamed and shuddered into another slash of the whip, the pain seared, it rolled and continued without reprieve, one scorching burning heat bled over her back followed by another until she dropped her head and passed out.
§§§
Yet Rune had heard her call.
He flew through the trees, his focus on Stormchaser because he knew that’s where Storm would take her.
§§§
Jess woke up; she tried to block the pain eating into her. Cold water splashed over her face, from where she couldn’t see. Her vision blurred, her eyes remained red and swollen with the tears she’d shed. The shred of the whip across her lacerated back hailed down without mercy.
Raising her head, she fluttered her eyelids and searched for someone, anyone. She cringed when she saw the creatures that surrounded her. Her arms bound, her legs the same, and an audience of evil dirty glares appeared focused on her.
She recoiled and cried into another sweeping slice of the whip. Again, it cut across her back. Jess didn’t know how much more she could stand.
The pain tore into her skin, ripping it apart. She bit her lip and held her breath, the agony slammed through her. Each strike carved across every tortured thought. She couldn’t move and sobbed at each painful slash.
Her back burned. She arched, striving to rid herself of the torment; her lids closed and flickered open briefly at the sight of Rune charging into the room.
Thank you God.
Yet was it him, or was she hallucinating? Seeing what she’d hope for?
When his huge hands gripped her, gently touching her face, she knew she was safe.
His face hardened in horror at the skin that peeled away, her back a mass of raw bleeding flesh. Long strands of red lashes roped and crisscrossed over her ass and thighs.
He turned on the three werewolves that circled her, a deep growl filtered from his throat.
Rune leapt at them, his teeth tearing into their skin.
Jess witnessed his attack in stunned disbelief. She peered out of slitted eyes at the creatures that had hovered over her, who had taken it in turns to whip her, and Rune obliterated them in a haze of absolute fury. His fangs dropped they dripped with blood, she tried to close her eyes, no way was this Rune.
A vampire for God’s sake?
And then recalled everything that had happened over the last few days. Nothing should shock her now.
She hung limp from the chains disbelief rocked over her at his assault, how he attacked with an unerring accuracy. He killed without mercy.
At last, the bodies lay twitching; of Storm there was no sign. Jess hadn’t seen her since she’d passed out.
Rune layered his attention on her and she shivered. Never in her life had she witnessed such a devastating assault. So much unrestrained ferocity.
“Jessalyn?”
She struggled to nod, just. Hell, even moving her head hurt her.
“You’re safe now.”
She couldn’t respond if she wanted to. Her lips moved; at least she thought they did, but no words came out.
“I’m taking you back to Caprice.”
§§§
Rune flinched at the mess on her lacerated back; for the first time in his life, he was in a quandary and didn’t know what to do. He wished she were unconscious, terrified of causing her more pain. And he couldn’t work out how this woman shot his emotions to threads. That he cared for her, something he’d never experienced in two hundred years.
He ripped at her manacles, tearing at them, yet careful not to cause any more damage. Because touching her would be agony to her battered body.
Rune knew that when he next saw Storm she’d be dead.
Taking a deep breath, he held Jess’s body against his and realized he had to somehow carry her and fretted how much it would hurt. Picking her up, her scream echoed and shuddered through him. Rune prayed to a God he didn’t believe in, and she passed out.
He’d answered his plea.
Throughout the journey to Caprice, she remained unconscious, and Rune was thankful for that. He knew she had to be in agony; the burning would chase through her body, and he hoped to Christ she wouldn’t get an infection. There was very little skin, and so much raw, angry flesh.
He’d been amazed she was still conscious when he’d reached her. Another hour and those bastards would have killed her, but no more. He’d taken great satisfaction in tearing their throats out. His only regret that Jess had seen him and that Storm had escaped.
Rune was also pissed he hadn’t been able to explain who or what he was before she’d seen the worse of his dark side. After this, would she be scared of him? He remembered her blind panic at the drive through. Yet none o
f that made any difference, all he was concerned about was Jess. If or how she’d recover. He could cope with her fear, her hatred, just so long as she lived.
Once in his room at Caprice, he gently lay her face down and winced at the mess on her back.
His fingers stabbed the number into his phone. “Mac, I need you out here asap, I’ve got an injured woman.”
“What, you expect me to drop everything and come over now? Why can’t you take her to casualty?”
“Because I can’t, that’s why, so just get your ass over here now!”
“Hell, Rune, you know how to pick your time.” A frustrated snort blew down the line. “I’m on my way.”
Next, he rang LeBron.
At once, he answered, as if he’d been sitting on the phone. “And?”
“I’ve got her, but she’s in a bad way, the bitch had her whipped. And, LeBron, as God is my witness, I’ll seek her out and fucking kill her.”
“How bad?” He roped an arm around Kitty, who nestled against him on the settee, and flicked the phone on speaker.
“My medic is on his way now, and, LeBron, there’s not a piece of skin on her back that hasn’t been torn.”
Kitty whimpered and slammed a fist into her mouth.
“Can we come over?” she asked faltering over the words, her voice breaking.
Rune shook his head, his attention on Jess, forgetful they couldn’t see his action. “No, but I’ll keep you informed on her progress.” He hung up.
§§§
Kitty glared at the phone that lay silent. “Has he got to be such a cold hearted bastard?” She swiped at her tears. “Anyone would swear he was talking about a stranger.”
LeBron tilted her head up to him and traced her tears with his finger. “No, Kit, he’s hurting. Rune works undercover as well as running the club.”
At the sudden curiosity on her face, he continued. “He works for The National Bureau, has done for years. He tried to retire but couldn’t, got drawn back in. There’s been a spate of killings recently, all local by rogue vamps, and he’s after them.”
She cricked her head. “So? I don’t get it, what has that got to do with his attitude to Jess?”
“He’s the best around, apart from Wolfe, dedicated. And since he’s set eyes on Jess he’s been obsessed with her. Rune is trying to distance himself, to do the best for her. If he allows his emotions to take over, he’ll be no good to her.”
She quietly digested the information. “I hope you’re right, and I hope to God she’ll be okay.
“Trust me, sweetheart, she’s in the best hands and the safest place.
§§§
Rune placed a sheet strategically over Jess’s ass. Mac might be a doctor, but he wasn’t getting an eyeful. Rivulets of blood trickled down her spine and he cursed at her hair, how it clung to the lumps of raw flesh. He attempted to push it to the side, where it bunched up. Jess turned her head, restless, and whimpered. Again, the long tendrils stuck to her back.
Rune gave a loud curse and strode on determined long strides to a nearby room, returning with a pair of scissors.
“Sorry, Jess, but I have to do this.” Pulling her hair back, he snipped across the nape of her neck, a jagged cut seared across, leaving it short. Holding her long skeins, he dropped them in the bag he held; at some point, he reasoned, perhaps she’d want to see it. When she regained consciousness, he was pretty sure she’d be seriously pissed at him for hacking at her hair.
But he didn’t care; all that mattered was that she recovered.
She whimpered and groaned. Rune touched her forehead, she was burning up. Panic set in, her temperature rising was a bad sign. It was a clear indication of the onset of an infection.
He rang again. “Mac, where the fuck are you?”
“Coming in through the entrance, be there in two minutes.”
The door swung open, and Rune muttered. “At last.”
The elderly man crossed the room, his short rotund body bobbed, and he blew a long whistle. “Holy mother of God, what the hell happened?”
“She was whipped.”
“Whipped by Christ, hell, I’ve never seen anything like it.” He felt her pulse, then checked her temperature. “It’s high, Rune, I don’t like the look of this. I’ll ring for an ambulance.”
“No, she stays here with me.”
Mac prodded his glasses as they slid down his nose. “At this time, I’ll agree, but if she gets any worse, then you’ll have to admit her, or you’ll be nursing a corpse.”
He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a large pot. “Here, put this on her back; smear it over her till you can’t see anything bar that.”
Rune took it. “And the infection?”
“In her state, we need to inject twice a day for at least fourteen days, maybe longer.” Again, he returned to his bag. “Have you done this before?”
“Yeah, I know what to do.”
“Is she allergic to penicillin? I need to be sure because of what I’ll be giving her.”
“Hold on.” Rune rang LeBron, who at once answered.
“Ask Kitty if Jess is allergic to penicillin.”
He heard him repeat the question.
“No,” he confirmed.
“Thanks.” Rune clicked the phone. “No, so what is it you’re prescribing?”
“It’s Cephalexin and effective on more serious infections; hopefully, this will prevent the onset of septicaemia.”
“You think she’s at risk from that?”
Mac gave a short nod. “Sometimes a small cut is all it takes, and look at that mess.”
Rune turned to Jess and flinched at the state of her back.
“If we can get on top of the infection, control it, she stands a chance.” He blew a long snort. “If she gets septicaemia and it turns to sepsis, I wouldn’t like to be a betting man but…”
Rune’s golden eyes burned with worry.
“Keep it to the minimum of people close to her, reduces the infection risk. Also, before injecting, clean the skin with alcohol.”
“I know,” said Rune. Already, his distraction evident, his thoughts centred on Jess.
Mac clicked his bag closed. “Any changes for the worse and you get that ambulance you hear me, Rune?”
“I hear,” his voice gruff. He didn’t turn to the door closing.
Chapter Eighteen
Rune hesitated; the raw lacerated wounds glared harsh, and gently, he smeared the cream across her back. His fingers feathered butterfly soft, yet her groans tore at him; she whimpered through her closed eyes. He knew the pain reaching the unconscious planes meant she had to be in agony.
Her breathing blew out in wisps, and touching her cheek with the back of his knuckles, he drew in a shaky breath. Rune washed his hands and, taking the syringe, filled it with the antibiotic. As Mac had told him, he cleaned her buttock with a swab of alcohol, and then waited for it to dry. Without hesitation, he pushed the needle in and pulled it out, checking for blood. Finding none, he continued and pressed the plunger down slowly, releasing the fluid. At last empty, he slipped it back out.
Rune checked the time and made a mental note to ready the next one. Again, he rang LeBron.
At once, he answered. “How is she?”
“Sleeping, but restless; listen, LeBron, I need you to run the club until Jess is well.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Good, because I won’t be leaving her side until she is.”
LeBron grinned and flashed Kitty an I-told-you-so smile as the call died.
Rune sat in the chair he’d pulled up beside the bed and studied Jess; she lay silent for the moment. He touched her forehead, yet still she burned hot. Fuck! Rune knew if she didn’t turn the corner, if her body didn’t start to respond, he’d make her vampire. Because he wouldn’t allow her to die.
Rune rose and fetched a bowl of cool water; placing it close, he wrung the flannel out and dabbed it gently over her face and throat.
“Come on, little one,
heal for me.” He homed in at the soft flutter of her lips, how they moved softly.
The seconds ticked by into minutes, the minutes passing to an hour.
She began to toss her head.
“No, please stop…” Her voice whimpered, breaking. “Please, Dad, Mum, no more I can’t stand it.” A sob broke free.
Rune frowned and touched her face, the tears soaked over his fingers. “Jess?”
“Mum, no, no that’s horrible—” She began to thrash and cry.
“Easy, Jess, take it easy.”
She suddenly stilled, and Rune shivered; at once, he felt for a pulse. It flickered beneath his fingertips. Relief slammed over him.
“Rune,” she mumbled.
“I’m here.”
“I called to you. I needed you.”
“And I came.”
“You came.” She released a whisper of a sigh.
“Always, Jess.”
§§§
Rune remained seated alongside the bed; Jess lay in a deep sleep. For the last week, he’d methodically given her the antibiotics. She’d woken intermittently in agony, screaming in pain, and he’d had to watch, helpless to take it away. Instead, he had soothed her tears, his stomach churning with an intensity he’d never experienced before.
Each time he’d rubbed the cream on, she’d clutched at the sheets, her sobs tearing him to shreds. Rune wished he could kill those bastards again and again, to torture them for the legacy they’d consigned Jess to. Even the injections into her muscle were causing her excruciating anguish. The only thing that Rune could do was help her sleep without the constant assault of pain.
Mac called in every day to check on her, and Rune was relieved when he gave his patient the thumbs up. Although she wasn’t over the worse, at least it looked like she’d live, but Rune had no intention of relaxing his vigil. She still slept most of the time, her body healing, and in between Rune tried to feed her soup, dripping it down her throat.
“Come on, little one, you have to get your strength back.”
She’d choked and tried to swallow; bit by bit, she managed to take some nourishment before her lids again drooped and she fell into a dreamless sleep.
He sat up when she stirred restless, another whimper breaking free. “Jess?”
