The air grows heavy—full.
“It's a symphony for me.”
Tharell's brows jump above his icy-blue gaze. “Well, wonderful for you, Domiatri.”
A staring match ensues, and Julia speaks in the middle of it. “Listen, Domi, I didn't want you to find out like this, but someone…”
She gives Domi an inquisitive look.
“It was not he who put the hole inside my body,” Tharell says.
Julia's shoulders slump in relief. She would have to act if Domi had defied their joint decision to hold Tharell.
“How do you know—brother.” Domi says brother like fucker. Julia hears it plain as day.
So does Tharell.
“Because I know that however much you hate me for my actions, to come to me in stealth rather than in plain sight would go against everything you are.”
“It would,” Domi states. His jaw clenches defiantly.
Julia's brows come together. “Then who hurt you?”
“Who cares?” Domi says.
“Who, indeed?” Tharell agrees severely.
“I do,” Delilah says from his arms.
Tharell's face slips into a tender expression before he checks it.
“Can you stand?” Tharell asks gently.
“I think so,” Delilah replies.
He sets her carefully on her feet. The brutal splash of blood over her skirt has mucked the area where her knees are underneath the layers of fabric.
Julia's throat convulses. Gross.
“Okay—” Julia begins.
Domi interrupts harshly, “What have you done?”
Domi looks from Delilah's healing throat to the new fangs Tharell seems to have suddenly have trouble hiding. “What came naturally?”
Jacqueline rushes in behind Domi, and he stays her with a hand.
Julia gasps at the size of her belly. “What on earth is going on?” she asks Jacqueline.
Jacqueline ignores her. “What is—oh my.”
That's so it.
Jacqueline's eyes take in a pale Delilah leaning against the much taller Tharell. Her fingers loosely wrap his forearm as it crosses her chest and he pins her against his body.
The scar at his throat is gone.
Julia glances at Domi. His scar is no longer there, either. Amazing.
“It appears as though Tharell is more mongrel than even I knew. He has taken blood from your vampire daughter.” Silently, he meets Tharell’s gaze.
“Blood exchange?”
Tharell nods.
“Really,” Jacqueline breathes out, her hand absently going to stroke the swell of her body.
“What now?” Scott asks.
“It doesn't really change things,” Julia says, “except that—God, Tharell's a vampire. I want Brynn here. He can tell us more.”
“Tharell cannot go back to faerie. He must atone—”
“There is no atonement, Domiatri. I will be put to true death once I arrive. But to stay outside”—Tharell grips Delilah more tightly—“is insanity.”
Domi scowls. “This is insanity.” His hand gestures to Delilah.
“I thought, since the fey and vampires are natural enemies, that Delilah would be the best choice to get Tharell back to faerie,” Julia explains.
Domi turns the silver of his laser stare at Julia. She swears it burns.
“Why?” he barks at her.
Scott steps between them. “Watch it green man, or I'll see if your guts match your skin.”
“Scott,” Julia begins.
“Nope. He doesn't get to talk to you like that.”
Domi and Scott stare each other down, then Jacqueline rests her hand on Domi's arm. He flicks his eyes at her touch, and Julia watches him build himself anew, into something more reasonable.
“You are right,” Domi concedes. “I am—this entire murder situation has been distressing.”
Distressing? Uh, yeah.
Julia nods. I guess when you've lived a thousand years, an attempt on your life just isn't that important.
“Wow,” Delilah says.
Julia ignores Domi and walks to her. They're about the same height, so she meets eyes that are so like Scott's she has to remind herself they just found each other. Technically, they're half siblings.
“Wow—what?”
“She has never exchanged blood,” Tharell appears to guess.
Delilah pushes away and staggers forward. Tharell catches her with a blinding swipe of speed.
Julia gasps, jumping backward. “Holy crap! I didn't see your arm move!”
“Yes. An advantage of the vampiric, apparently.”
Delilah rolls her eyes but doesn't make a second move to get away. “Of course I've taken blood from a male before.”
Tharell's brows come together.
Delilah folds her arms. “I suppose you think you're so vital that I'm just blown away. You don't suppose it has anything to do with the Heinz 57 that I am? If I've taken from a pure vamp, it just—well it didn't feel the same.”
Tharell's expression turns smug.
Delilah huffs, crossing her arms. The blood moving up the sleeves is distracting. “Your penis—did it just grow or something?”
Tharell blanches and Scott snorts.
They glare at each other. “Because unless that happened,” Delilah continues with slow deliberation, “you shouldn't be behaving as though you are the second coming of Christ.”
Tharell flinches at the name of God. Demonic blood is more than blue liquid that runs inside black veins.
There are qualities to it, like there are distinctive elements inherent to her own blood.
Domi dismisses the sparring with an easy hand whip in the air. “Tharell will be executed in faerie.”
Julia turns to him, and Jacqueline is unusually quiet.
Julia says, “I can't have him here. Most of my people didn't want him alive. And obviously, someone tried to kill him in secret, against my express order—which we all agreed on. Tharell fought in a battle that killed many of the Region Two Singers. He wasn't here when Tony—when Tony did what he did.”
Jacqueline moves deeper into Domi's tall body. He wraps an arm around her shoulder.
The mention of Tony's name was enough to make her shy from it.
Julia understands—too well. “Then there's Tharell making a deal with Gabriel.”
Julia shifts her accusing gaze away from Tharell and looks at the others. “We need him to go. And if Delilah could get Tharell to faerie unharmed herself, he would be the fey's problem. Not mine.”
Tharell claps. “Well done, Julia.”
Julia lets go of a hard sigh. “Listen. I don't have great choices here. My soul-meld with Scott is back. My people are dead. Jason is pissed at me. And you’re some kind of new vamp.”
“And that's a new item on the agenda. Soul-whatever?” Delilah asks, glancing at Scott.
Julia ignores her. “If Tharell can return to faerie, along with you and Jacqueline, all the fey people will be back where they belong and I can begin to rebuild Region One with who's left.”
“And if I refuse?” Delilah asks and Scott's eyes narrow, but he makes no move to leave Julia's side.
Tharell turns Delilah's face to his with a soft touch to her chin. “Would you deny what is between us.”
Delilah jerks her chin out of his grasp. “Yes,” she hisses. “A little blood bind doesn't mean we're getting married, Sidhe. I never forget that you are fey.”
Tharell's hand slowly drops and Julia can't read his expression.
Bad.
“But I concede I'm the logical choice to get your criminal rear end back to the mound. I can do it—Brynn could as well.”
“Brynn is pure vampire, the sithen will not allow him inside.”
Delilah's face thins to feral sharp, a slight tremor can be seen in a shaky hand as she swipes a stray hair away. “I can. I did kill Queen Darcel, if you remember.”
“Unforgettable,” Domi says in quiet consideration.
“Thank you, Delilah,” Tharell says, changing tactics.
Her eyes narrow to slits. “You're welcome, Tharell of the Unseelie.”
He gives a little bow then uses his newly acquired vampire speed to jerk her to him.
Delilah yelps in surprise and Tharell gasps as her talons plug him, the tips exiting out of the wound she just healed.
“That is not the way to thank a woman.”
Tharell's pain-filled gaze moves to hers. “Then enlighten me.”
Delilah jerks the talons out of his body and Tharell slumps forward. “Next time you bite me—you ask.”
Tharell's breaths come fast and hard, his body using what energy he gained from the first blood-letting to assist with the new wound.
But Tharell does not heal himself. Instead, his fingers trail a pathway of chemistry so obvious its flame to flesh. The delicate touch runs from Delilah's cheekbone to jaw and her breath catches.
Delilah's vein at her throat rises to the surface under his fingertips like a succulent rope and her heartbeat pushes the lush pulse like a magnet to his touch.
Tharell's gaze latches onto the precious blood source where his fingers rest.
Scott moves Julia behind him again.
A pin could be heard if one were to drop.
“May I?” Tharell asks, but his lips already hover above her throat, his strong hand craning her jaw so the long line of her neck is exposed, his prior wounds stand as twin stark holes against snowy flesh.
Julia can see the immense strength in that grip. Tharell could snap her neck. Instead, he cradles her head as if it were a revered and fragile egg. Five spots of scarlet spread in a red pool at his back where her talons speared him
“You may, you insufferable hybrid.”
Tharell's lips twitch as he strikes before any of them can take their next breath.
Delilah doesn't flinch. Instead, she relaxes into his embrace.
When Brynn enters the barn no one hears him.
He attacks Tharell in a smear of rolling bodies. The movement also tears out half of Delilah's throat.
Jacqueline screams and moves to go to her daughter.
Domi seizes her, swinging the mother of his child away from the fray.
Scott likewise holds Julia.
I can't breathe.
Brynn knocks his fist into Tharell, and the Sidhe vampire catches the strike. Tharell's wounds close as Julia watches their movements, their clothing like spinning streamers.
Tharell leverages the fist meant for him and tosses Brynn into the concrete wall behind him. The building shakes from the impact.
“Brynn!” Julia screams.
“No,” Scott says, “Yo—you're so not going near them.”
Brynn rolls away from the concrete wall gracefully, and Julia gasps when she sees the indent of where his body struck the cement.
Julia points to Delilah, but Scott is unyielding armor around her.
Delilah grabs at her throat, eyes wide, gurgling.
Brynn leaps beside her, scooping her off the cold floor. His eyes move to Tharell. “Stay back, newling. You've done enough damage.”
Tharell surges forward.
“Tharell! No, wait,” Julia cries.
Brynn ignores everyone. His attention is only for Delilah as she drowns in her own blood.
“Shh, you will live, young female.” Her flailing arms find his shoulders and latch on.
Brynn grits his teeth against the strength of her hold and folds the mutilated flap of flesh back against her throat.
Delilah bucks, starved for air.
Brynn tears at his wrist. Then balancing her head on his knees, he squeezes the blood out drop by drop.
Her mouth opens, and his dark lifeblood drips inside. Delilah's eyes close. She begins to make mewling sounds like a kitten with its first saucer of cream.
Delilah grabs the wrist above her and latches on with a contented sigh.
Brynn gives Tharell a look of unadulterated disdain. “That is how it's done, infant.”
Tharell squats beside them. “I am not an infant, and if you do not disengage yourself from her mouth, I will put my fist through your head.”
Brynn smirks. “You will try.”
Unreal.
“We don't have time for this,” Julia says.
“Nope, let them figure this out, Julia. Sometimes men just have to beat the shit out of each other to make sense of it all,” Scott says.
That's so illogical.
Neither of them acknowledges Julia or Scott. They're too busy with their testosterone-laden stare fest.
“It is I who saved her. You're too much of a novice to release her from the feed when another vampire attacks. You almost killed a helpless female as she entrusted you to feed from her vein. You. Are. An. Infant.”
Tharell's eyes are like dead marbles in his face. “And you shall die if you don't take your wrist from her mouth.”
Delilah ends the argument when she releases Brynn, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
There aren't many blood-free spots on Delilah anymore. Brynn and Tharell look down at her at the same moment.
She glares at them both. “That hurt like hell.”
Looks like they've bitten off more than they can chew.
Literally.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Drek- Lanarre prince
“This is absurd.”
“They're dead, Drek.”
“I can see that.” Drek holds out his palm, where congealed blood collects.
“The human law enforcement has already combed the establishment.”
Drek's eyebrows lift. “And?”
“They have found nothing we didn't want them to. The human guardians were in bad shape.”
“Eviscerated.”
“Yes,” Bowen answers tersely.
Drek shoots out an exhale like a bullet. “And Tahlia is out there somewhere—a Lanarre princess, unguarded.”
“She is skilled, Drek.”
He whirls on his trusted guard. “I'm aware she is skilled. However, she will be my queen, Bowen.”
“I understand.”
Drek kicks the cheap bamboo couch in the hotel room. It flips then hits the wall so hard that the peg legs embed into the drywall.
The room still bears her scent, which is strongest in the bathroom. Drek walks the length of the room and passes through the narrow bathroom threshold.
A faucet drips loudly. Drek has never wished more to change to wolfen than he does in this moment.
He could be so much more aware.
But a seven-foot-tall wolfen will attract too much attention. As it is, it's taken all they could manage to get inside the room without alerting the authorities of their presence.
What I wouldn’t give for my wolfen snout—or animal's eyes. Without them he has only his slightly heightened human senses.
Then his eyes catch something that's fallen behind the dingy commode.
It looks like snow.
No—it's a feather. A pure white feather. And balanced on top, is a drop of blood.
Drek stands so quickly his head spins.
“Bowen!” he yells.
Bowen rushes inside, hands gripping the doorjamb. “What is it?”
“She changed into bird form.”
They come to the same realization simultaneously.
“She lives.”
His gaze moves to the small bathroom window above the shower stall. The window stands open. The opening is just large enough for a bird to move through.
“Yes,” Drek answers, clutching the feather.
It breaks under his grip.
*
Slash
“Hey,” Adrianna calls out softly.
Slash jerks up from the ground in a semi-pushup leap. His black nylon athletic pants leave little to the imagination, and he watches Adrianna take that in: his lack of shirt—and underwear.
It's simply not practical for him to be wolfen and not have pants that
accommodate his increased girth. Underwear would literally strangle his nuts. The athletic pants are the best he can do, and they’re more modest than anything most would partake in.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
Slash can't resist a small chuff to scent her.
Adrianna is nervous. Her emotions fuel a quick scan of the environment.
“Nothing's wrong Slash. I'm just—I'm seeing how you're doing. You've been gone all day.”
He moves toward her.
Fear washes over her features.
Slash stops, stunned. “Are you afraid of me?”
Adrianna quickly shakes her head. “No. But, you're big in wolfen form.”
He grins. He forgot what he looks like. For a full second, he forgot about his scar.
His smile disappears at the thought but Adrianna is already slipping her arms around his waist, nuzzling against the downy hair that covers his body in this form.
His hand awkwardly cups her small skull, and he thinks of all of what he loves contained in the fragile container of her head. He swallows painfully.
She is so vulnerable. And he can think of nothing else but her protection.
He voices different thoughts, though. “Julia tasked me with scenting the dead.”
Adrianna tips her head back. “Kind of shitty.”
Slash shakes his head as his mouth pulls into a thin smile and flattens his scar. “No. It must be done. I'm a pureblood Red. Truman, Zeke, and I are making short work of it.”
Adrianna looks out over the small lake then glances at her feet.
Slash nods. “The fey were able to get all the… pieces.”
Adrianna nods at the word for the torn bodies of the dead.
“They put them in a mass grave. It's up to us to exhaust the tally of fallen Were.”
Understanding lights her expression. “Lawrence.”
Slash nods, unable to tell her just how selfish his motivation is. The packmaster is the one true obstacle standing between Slash’s union with Adrianna.
“If he's gone, then we can be together.”
Emotion overcomes him and Slash can't keep form and bleeds to human.
The short coat of red hair that covers his body disappears and only the barest grunt whistles out of him as he shrinks to the shorter stature of six foot four.
Adrianna is still her fierce tiny package of female.
Slash moves his fingers beneath her jaw and tilts it up, looking deeply into her eyes.
Angelic Blood (#5): Alpha Warriors of the Blood (The Blood Series) Page 14
