Angelic Blood (#5): Alpha Warriors of the Blood (The Blood Series)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  His hands slides behind her neck, and she groans against his touch. She’s lost to it.

  So lost.

  What is wrong with me?

  “Do you not feel the pull?”

  Tessa does, right between her legs.

  “Yes,” she admits. “But it's not enough. I mean, you're not even a Were? I can't just up and go with you.”

  Tessa gets an image of a future whelp. A hotdog comes to mind. She shivers.

  This isn't going to work. Tessa needs space—right now.

  She shoves him, and he steps away, every hot inch. His six feet four-ish of hardened muscle is scentless but oh-so fragrant anyway.

  When her gaze reaches his lips, Lazarus twists them into what she guesses is his version of a smile. His gray eyes storm at her.

  His light-blond hair begs for her fingers.

  She blushes hard when she thinks of the other things.

  “I can scent your arousal, Tessa.”

  She backs up a step.

  Too dangerous. Just too everything.

  “I can't do this, sorry. You're so tempting. Like a pile of chocolates that'll never make me fat.”

  “I won't stop,” Lazarus says.

  Tessa blindly finds the doorknob behind her then opens the door. “Stop what?”

  “Wanting you.” He grabs the door as she tries to swing it shut between them.

  “Ever,” his deep voice rumbles.

  She jerks it closed and sprints away.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Scott

  Scott would be happier without the soul-meld. He has no doubt. Right now, things suck.

  His dad is dead. Most of Region One is dead.

  And Julia's emotions constantly batter him. He can't blame her. Her selfish asshole of a husband dumps his baggage at her doorstep to figure out while every stinking supe demands guidance from a twenty-two-year-old woman.

  His heart aches where it never did before.

  Scott figures there's one asshole down and a few more to go. He strides to the barn. Julia should be back there now.

  He knows she is. He can feel her like a beacon inside his body. She dealt with Tahlia and Tessa while he broke the shitty news of what happened in the seventy-two hours his siblings were locked up in the bunker.

  And Victor from Two? Where the hell did he run off to? Scott is pissed. He saves who he can, rises from the ashes with Scott's sister and brother, then disappears. Not cool. Scott needs his stuck-up ass.

  Lucius and he were separated after the torture he escaped from. The other Combatants were killed in the battle of the demonic. And Julia has a demon spore making her sick.

  The trouble never stops.

  But after holding Jen while she cried on him for an hour, Scott is ready for the healing the soul-meld will provide him. If he can just lay hands on Julia, all will be well, as his father would have said.

  Scott pinches the bridge of his nose. Even smart-ass Michael, when faced with one of his junky suckers, couldn't bear to pop one in his cocky mouth.

  They're in shock, he tells himself.

  That's all well and good, but for two guys who wear their sister's grief on their shirt, logic and explanations just don't fucking cut it.

  If he can get Tharell and his own evolving bio-mom out of here, so much the better.

  Speak of the devil.

  Tharell comes into view, along with Brynn, Delilah, Domiatri and Jacqueline.

  Now that he thinks of it, Scott isn't quick to shake his prejudice against vamps. The only good vamp is a dead vamp. At least he and Caldwell agree on that.

  Or they did.

  That powder keg is gone now.

  He feels the bond grow snug with each step he takes toward Julia.

  Julia's head turns, and his body weeps to connect with hers. As though he’s moving through quicksand, each step he takes is heavier than the last. She moves to meet him.

  They collide softly. She whimpers against his chest. “It's so hard.”

  “Yeah,” Scott agrees, touching her everywhere and scenting deeply of her hair as Julia molds her body to his. Seconds pass into a minute while everything rights itself.

  His body grows stronger, and the fog of lethargy clears from his mind. All his senses come online and sharpen. Scott can think again.

  “We can't be away from each other that long,” Julia says with a shaky exhale.

  “Feel better?” he asks, looking down at her.

  She nods. “Much.”

  Scott looks around him, and the others stand silently.

  “You're going?” he asks Jacqueline.

  “Don't sound so happy, my son,” Jacqueline says.

  Scott threads his large hand through Julia's smaller one and she stands at his side. “I've had enough bullshit and strife to last two lifetimes. I'm good with the fey going back where they belong, and no offense—I don't think vamps for hire appeals much either.”

  “No offense taken, Singer.” Brynn hisses, his fangs sprouting like dual razors.

  “Right,” Scott drawls.

  “Scott,” Julia says in a low voice. “Let's just let them go, and when things settle and hell's not chasing our butts, we can make good on the promise.”

  Scott turns to Julia, his gaze intent on hers. “There might not be enough Singers to make good on that exchange, Julia.”

  She bites her lips, and Scott smooths them with a tender finger. “No, Julia.” He shakes his head and addresses Tharell and Domi. “You guys”—he swings his finger between the two—“there will be some Singers who want to live in faerie.” For the life of him, Scott can't come up with a single name. “But I don't know when, or who.”

  “Do not break a promise to the fey, Scott,” Tharell warns.

  Scott moves to the Sidhe warrior. “I'm well aware of the promise Julia made. But you're a traitor. And as such, I feel I'm being pretty fucking charitable to honor anything.”

  “Scott.”

  He turns to his mother, whose belly is swollen with Domi's child. He can't wrap his head around it all, so he doesn't bother.

  “It's a promise to faerie, not Tharell. Faerie sends justice to oathbreakers.”

  “We won't break our promise.”

  Domi steps forward. “See that you do not. Make haste in an alliance between the fey and the Singers. Quickly.”

  Scott feels Julia's fear, and he wants to knock some rainbow heads together. But he's not going to pull a Caldwell. He's going to think things through. What's best for Julia. Them. The Singers.

  Fuck the fey. Yet… Scott is old enough to understand the consequence of ignoring magic set in motion.

  Instead of voicing his heated thoughts, he says, “We'll be in touch.”

  Julia squeezes his hand and he pulls her against him.

  Jacqueline moves from Domi as his hand reluctantly slides down her arm. She stands before him and for the first time Scott looks at her, really looks at her.

  She has changed. Julia is right. Her eyes no longer hold that vacant indifference. It has been replaced with cautious hope.

  Jacqueline doesn't move to take his hands, but Julia elbows him, and he feels what she feels for Jacqueline—forgiveness.

  He can't hate her anymore if Julia doesn't. And she is his family.

  Scott doesn't know what family they will all end up being to him but when he looks over at Delilah, she is already making her way to him.

  Julia steps away so he can embrace his mother and sister.

  A small tear in his psyche begins to mend as his eyes hunt and find Julia.

  She smiles, and it lights him from within.

  And Scott knows everything will be all right.

  *

  Praile

  Praile is as mad as he's ever been. Where in Hades is Lazarus? Praile has sighted the High One with the one who carries the blood babe. And Lazarus is where?

  Holding his hot dick while he takes a sizzling piss?

  Praile writhes with his anger.

  He gave Laza
rus explicit instructions to meet with him in this exact spot. Then they would take the women at one time. The High One had not divulged her scheme to return the Sidhe and the others to faerie.

  It's a perfect situation for Praile, though. The fewer supernaturals to deal with, the better. However, killing the High One would be tricky.

  She has a formidable arsenal at her disposal. Hopefully, she isn't fully aware of all the strengths she possesses.

  And she and her soul-meld are fools. If they have not consummated their relationship by coming together, she is vulnerable. Praile and Lazarus have not been at the compound long enough to understand the entire story, but he understands her human marriage has delayed her consummation with the soul-meld.

  Praile makes a disgusted noise. Some kind of illogical, emotion-based nonsense. This gives Praile the advantage.

  Julia would be invincible if the soul-meld were consummated.

  It should be an impenetrable golden circle.

  Praile would find the chink in her unfinished armor. Praile leaks vapor then clenches his teeth until it subsides. He hates the human shell.

  It is as ugly as sin.

  The thought makes his face break into a grin.

  *

  Tessa

  Tessa drags both duffels and settles them into the back of a borrowed SUV. It's as old as hell but runs true.

  Well, that's what one of the Region Two Singers said.

  He palms the keys in her hand and smiles. “Julia says to get it back when you come back.”

  Tessa is so unaccustomed to kindness that she blinks back tears.

  Tahlia squeezes her arm. Their eyes meet, and Tessa glances away before revealing too much.

  Tessa thinks of Lazarus and his threat. She shivers, despite feeling the heat of him against her.

  Then, with a shudder, she remembers who chases her.

  She stiffens her spine. Don't be a baby, Tessa. Get your ass in gear. She can't be with a demonic, no matter how amazing that interlude was back there.

  She can't stay here and endanger the Singers, because sadistic Tramack is chasing her.

  She glances at Tahlia, who slides into the car. And she can't leave a young woman barely out of whelp for a mystery match.

  Tessa closes the back of the late-70s Chevy Suburban and makes her way toward the front.

  “Tessa,” a low voice commands from the woods, and on reflex, she looks up.

  Tramack smiles.

  Two Were drag a badly beaten Were between them. Shackled in silver, he can barely open his eyes.

  The sight of the female takes her breath away. Her talons are broken, many at the base, and one eye is swollen shut. A third Were carries her in his arms.

  She doesn't move.

  Tessa scents they're alive. She also has a vague recollection of meeting them and doesn't know what happened.

  What Tessa knows is she's seen so much worse than this.

  The female will survive.

  I'm so sorry, she whispers in her mind. If she helps, Tramack will win.

  She will be his victim, along with the Were he's already captured.

  Tessa glances at Tahlia, and the girl turns the keys in the ignition. The engine roars to life, and Tessa grasps the handle.

  Tramack bellows, charging toward her, and Tessa whimpers. A body is suddenly pressing behind her, a hand covering her own.

  Light-red flesh warms her hand, making the metal too hot to touch, and Tessa snatches her hand back as strong arms hold her still as Tramack bears down on her. She knows the embrace. Her soul recognizes him as though she's been waiting her entire life to be held by him.

  Lazarus.

  She's not scared.

  For the first time, Tessa feels safe.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Julia

  Julia's arm encircles Scott's waist, and she lays her head on his bicep.

  They watch the group walk away.

  “You're relieved,” Julia says.

  “Yeah, can't you feel it?”

  She nods against him, and he closes his hand around the back of her head. He would glue her to him if he could.

  I heard that.

  Scott deliberately inserts the image of super glue, and she giggles.

  He strokes her hair.

  They have a minute of peace before the nasty wound inside Julia begins to pulse and throb.

  “What is that?” Scott asks.

  Julia groans, her hand going to her stomach. “It's that demon's blood.”

  “Oh, babe,” Scott says, kissing her mouth. “We'll figure that out.”

  Gravel crunching under a footstep causes them to look up. Julia forces a smile through the pain. “Hi, Peter,” she says.

  “Hey,” Scott says, but Julia feels a mild trepidation leaking from him. He's so paranoid. The guards actually found more Region Two survivors, and all Scott can think of is finding Victor so he can verify their identities. Julia's mind gets fuzzy as the demonic blood surges as though it's a magnet set on something outside her body.

  “Where's the other guy?” Julia asks. She snaps her fingers with a small grimace as the pain intensifies. She ignores it. “Laz?”

  Peter smiles, and hers falters. There's something there.

  Julia's skin begins to crawl as though a million biting insects are swarming over her flesh.

  “Julia!” Scott yells from somewhere far away.

  Peter strolls slowly to her and she's slipping. She falls to the ground and Scott is writhing on the floor.

  Why is he half-changed into Combatant form?

  There'd have to be a direct threat to her life.

  Peter grins. His teeth are black.

  Julia screams.

  Then she screams louder when the cloak of his humanity falls away, and his true form stands before her.

  “Tony did well after all.”

  “Scott,” Julia whispers.

  She'd asked for privacy to say goodbye to the fey.

  “Julia!” Scott crawls to her, his veins pulsing gold and silver.

  His skin smolders.

  As does Peter’s. Or whoever he is.

  He sinks down beside her.

  Julia cringes, trying to scrape together her powers, but nothing comes.

  The demon places the flat of his palm on her stomach, and pure agony surges through her. It feels like he's commanding her spine to come through her stomach, and she opens her mouth to scream. No sound comes out. The pain is so total, so awful that there is no breath to wail.

  She contorts, her back arching.

  “I am Praile. And you will die, High One. And then I will capture the mother of the blood babe.”

  Scott crawls closer.

  “Jacqueline,” Julia instantly squeezes through her pain-addled brain.

  Praile's inky brows tug together.

  “No, part-demonic and fey, part-vampire and angelic, enemies of blood, and born of strife.”

  Julia's head goes in the direction of where the party of fey traveled.

  Ice slides up her spine.

  Delilah!

  Her attention snaps back to Praile as a gruesome tail settles above his head. His palm is fire against her flesh, and the light of her blood is blinding.

  But the spore of the demonic has allowed entry to degrade her body, she realizes.

  The ball at the end of his tail is spiked. It whips above his head more quickly than she can track, and he brings it down just as he lifts his palms.

  Her eyes meet Scott's as he takes her hand.

  A club swings through the air, whistling, then hammers into the ribcage of the demon bent on ending her. Praile staggers back.

  Spinning green discs meet her gaze, and she can't move.

  Jason's wolfen form bends and scoops her into his arms. He reaches behind him and grabs a semi-conscious Scott. He drags the other man behind him as he jogs toward the mansion.

  Scott's head bounces over the terrain and Julia lays like a bag of rocks as Jason makes his way into the house.


  He sets Julia down gently and releases Scott, who groans when his head hits the carpet. Jason throws the carpet off, and Julia watches him enter a series of numbers into a door in the floor. Air hisses, and Jason's long fingers tear open the top.

  Victor's head is out in an instant.

  Jason turns and hands Julia to Victor, who takes her below.

  Next Scott tumbles inside, and Victor catches him badly, the two of them rolling into a pile on the cold floor.

  Julia drags herself to the bottom of the ladder and looks up to meet Jason's eyes.

  “I love you, Julia.”

  She opens her mouth.

  Praile appears behind him, his tail swings high, and the mallet connects with Jason's head, shattering his skull as she watches.

  Julia releases the last rung and falls to the floor.

  Jason loses his hold on the hatch, and it closes as Praile's hands frantically claw at the metal for purchase and miss.

  Julia escapes in the only way she knows how, an unconsciousness of necessity sweeps over her, and she falls into an unnatural sleep of survival.

  THE END

  Read on for an exciting exclusive first peek of Book #6

  Blood Enchantment...

  BLOOD ENCHANTMENT

  A Blood Series Novel

  Book 6

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  TAMARA ROSE BLODGETT

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  Copyright © 2015 Tamara Rose Blodgett

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  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.

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