She saved herself by seconds.
The female latched onto her shoulder harder. Julia's arm went numb to the wrist and she couldn't suppress a whimper as the female gave Julia a smile around the fangs that were buried in the flesh of her shoulder.
There was a commotion outside and the door slammed open.
William’s frantic eyes met hers and in a moment of profound weakness, blood covering her upper body, the loss of it more than she could adequately fight, Julia whispered, “Help me.”
*
William
William looked around for Julia. Ah—there she went, stalking off to mope in the restroom. He sighed. He told himself for the hundredth time that she was but an infant. Still, her behavior took some getting used to. She did not see William as the protector he was. If she would but allow it, he thought, clenching his jaw.
He looked a moment longer to make sure that Clarence was a discreet distance from the restroom and went back to his conversation with Gabriel.
“Give her time, William,” the coven leader said.
“I have watched her this past year. I fear she cares not for her own life. She still mourns the husband who is no longer.” Just saying those words made William angry. He was determined to speak his mind to Gabriel. “I think she uses his death as a crutch. He has been gone for one year past. She has been told the facts of his death. The Were delivered the death blow—not vampire. She would not have been allowed the union in any event. Two Blood Singers together!”
Ridiculous.
Gabriel nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring William's own. There could not be inbreeding amongst Singers because of the negative impact on the blood quantum. And more importantly, to waste a Rare One in that way, to squander it? Not during his reign.
He clapped William on the back. “She will understand more as time goes on. Julia will come to understand that she is too rare a jewel to wander about, taking her chances in the outside world. It is here that is her destiny. Here is her safety. Also”—he looked into William's eyes—“now that her adolescence is upon her, every Were and vampire from here to the ends of the earth would smell it on her. Her childhood afforded her some protection. No longer.” Gabriel made a severe cutting gesture with his hand at the exact moment that William felt pain pierce the highest area of his shoulder.
He stood so quickly the chair that he had sat upon turned over and fell, the wood hitting the cobblestone floor with a resounding crack, echoing in the space.
William met the eyes of his fellow vampire, their faces without expression. He whipped his head in the direction of the restroom.
A lone foot could be seen sticking out of the dark corridor.
Clarence’s.
Julia was no longer under guard.
William sprinted in a burst of speed that made its own breeze, lifting the tablecloth that held the crystal and blood.
He burst through the door, the wooden frame bending under the force of the swing.
He was greeted by Julia's whiskey-colored eyes, strained and wide in her paling face. William was struck by the tears that streamed down her cheeks and the terror on her face.
William's eyes fell first on Edna, a viperous female then found the two that would have vied for the position of mate to Julia.
Two fewer contenders. He picked out the head off the interloper whose fangs were bared before Julia’s exposed throat, venom for the strike dripping off them as he prepared to strike.
The moment seemed to pause. Julia looked into his eyes with what he had longed for, had been beyond hoping for: fear filled their depths… as well as longing. She wanted him. In that moment, she gave in to the blood bond between them, and her terror made her raw to it.
He answered with a look that took mere seconds to convey.
It was her voice, though, that struck his soul like a bell that chimed.
“Help me,” she gasped out, her eyes deep pools of drowning amber.
He did not hesitate.
William punched his right hand into the back of Edna, talons extended. In gasping from the entry wounds, she inadvertently released her fangs from Julia's shoulder. Julia slid to the floor, using the pathway of the female vampire like a helpmate, her hands grasping the female's gown.
Julia rolled over onto her back, the blood from the wound running backward, pooling in the hollow of her collarbone, and dripping to the floor where her burnished red hair lay like a fan atop the stone.
William hesitated, hating to kill a female of the vampire, but she had proven to be without scruples. He tore his talons from her back, and she fell to his feet, gasping, all five nails having punctured her lungs in a most grievous manner.
William let Edna lie on the stone floor like a gasping fish. He turned his attention to the vampire whose hands were around his throat in the universal choking gesture.
What was this?
The male was choking on the blood he had consumed.
William swung his gaze to Julia, the fragrant smell of her blood filling the space, making him almost light headed with bloodlust, his throat tightening painfully.
And he was a quarter Singer.
The others would never be able to abstain from her as she lay vulnerable and bleeding.
There would be a blood riot.
The evidence of such was at his feet. The vampire he had beheaded, lying as a pile of ash and blood, was the eighth slayed.
Never having been exposed to a Rare One, they were virtually helpless before the song for her blood.
Hearing noise at the door, William turned, simultaneously moving toward Julia.
The vampires moved as a unit, talons extended, fangs sprung free of their houses of flesh.
They came to where the delectable smell of fresh blood was released—a quality without compare. It was as if a thousand-year-old bottle of wine lay breathing—on a cold stone floor mere paces away from consumption.
*
Julia
Julia looked up and saw a monster with fangs the size of her pinky fingers dripping a clear fluid tinged with red. Talons as long as her forearms stood at deadly attention.
And then, like small swords, they began to slice whoever drew near.
Their motion in a blur of darkness was too fast for her to follow. Julia became aware of moisture falling on her bare skin like rain.
She opened her eyes and a head fell beside her shoulder with a meaty thump. The dead eyes, once gray, turned into a collapsing wall of flesh and bone. As she looked on in horror, it began to disintegrate into a mass of ash.
It was the eyes she'd never forget.
Or the creature William had become, fighting the vampires that would have killed her.
They came, one after another, as blood drenched her gown and she lay helplessly at his feet.
William slashed and stabbed as injuries were rained down on him, and then five overcame him. Julia whimpered, having never envisioned herself dying that way.
At that moment, Julia realized she wanted to live—had always wanted to live.
Her eyes met William's, pleading.
She knew she didn't deserve his help.
But she was sorry. She didn't want this life, this existence.
Nevertheless, he was dying to defend her.
*
William was overcome. He had dispatched fifteen, losing all hope of the guards helping him through the crowd of rabid vampires overrun with blood lust.
The higher functioning of their cerebral cortex was gone.
When the five overcame him, he saw Julia torn from beneath his feet by two fanged brethren. One held her as the other prepared to strike, losing his grip twice as her body was slick with the blood of the massacred.
She was weak as a kitten—any fool could see—her wound not closing up. The blood-clotting properties of the vampire saliva were not working.
Of course, Edna would have not used hers willingly.
Julia was bleeding out.
William was struggling agains
t the vampires, beyond reason and rationale when he heard her soft whimper like a plea—bereft, hopeless.
Her eyes met his again, the blood bond reverberating in his body, pressing him to take action beyond his capabilities.
William did, smashing two of the vampiresʼ heads together hard enough for their brains to splatter against the inside of their skulls and leak out their ears. He threw himself on his feet and launched to Julia's side in a fluid, gymnastic movement, his fist punching out as he did.
The vampire who had fangs a millimeter away from her throat lost them from the impact of William’s fist even as William's talons swung to take the head of the one who restrained her.
*
Julia
Julia saw William come. A shaky exhalation escaped her as she lay in the arms of one vampire while the other prepared to chew her throat out.
The one who held her dumped her head on the floor so hard she saw lights twinkle above her.
And then William was there.
Their heads fell on either side of her body, and heat suffused her. Julia knew she would pass out and had but moments to express herself.
William crouched above her protectively, and she raised her arm weakly. She clutched his clothing.
He glanced at her then looked away, tensing his body for the next onslaught.
She tugged again.
“Julia, lie still. You have lost much blood.”
“Thank you,” she whispered on her final breath. Her vision dimmed to a pinpoint.
The last coherent image was William—whose face she didn't hate anymore.
His mouth moved, but she couldn't hear him. An enveloping softness encased her as she floated away like a dandelion seed on the wind.
Julia slept in a pool of her own blood and that of others—many others.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Den of the Were
One Month Later
“Do you see her?” Joseph asked impatiently.
“Yes,” Tony responded, dropping the night-vision binoculars.
“It is easy to make her out, Joseph. She is so much smaller than the blood drinkers.”
Right. Joseph knew that. But his anxiety was full tilt. It had been a month since their orders from Lawrence to execute reconnaissance on the vampire kiss. They had done that.
It had been troubling to smell injuries on the Rare One.
When they had first begun their covert stakeout, they could smell fresh wounds. They were concentrated on the female, but also one other, the vampire that who could turn into a raven. He had been injured, as well.
It was only speculation, but Joseph felt something terrible had happened within the coven—something that allowed a freedom that was almost brazen in its disregard to her safety.
Although, they did flank her five deep on either side.
Joseph was still sticking with the number fifteen.
Fifteen of his entire soldier contingent should be enough to bring her home.
The Rare One would assimilate into his den. She would not automatically be his. But he would butcher any Alpha who took challenge.
Joseph would be victor.
He must.
The whelp of the Were had to evolve, or the race would be lost.
He squeezed his hands into fists, mourning the moon's shape.
It was waxing—two weeks yet until they could bring the change.
Joseph and Tony watched the small female figure bounce as she ran, with the huge blood drinkers looking to the four corners of the earth.
Joseph growled low in his throat. The vampires were unaware of the sound, but Tony heard and answered.
It would have been a howl had the moon been full.
*
Julia
Julia's lungs burned—but in a good way. What had started out as nightly walks when the city slept had turned into jogging.
Now she ran. Her vitality returned incrementally, night by night.
She shuddered, thinking about how her life had almost ended that fateful night on a floor of ancient cobblestone built for humans and infiltrated by vampires.
Claire had had to provide blood to save her life. William could not give it.
The third blood share would have mated her to William—whether she wanted it or not.
Forever is a long time to hold a grudge. But she was immortal only if she had blood quantum. Too much blood loss, and her life would be gone.
Julia wasn't sure she believed them. There was no such thing as immortality, right?
Then her mind burdened her with the discoveries of the past year, such as the existence of werewolves and vampires. As if that isn't crazy as hell.
Julia wiped sweat from her brow and glanced at William, who didn't sweat, of course. He never broke stride.
Neither did the other nine who ran with her—or rather, jogged. They could run, but she could only do what she was doing now. It was hopelessly slow. She was a foot shorter than them, and not vampire.
“Are you well?” William asked.
She smiled shyly. He was beyond solicitous. Julia had allowed herself the barest crack in her plan. As she had begun to figure it, with all that time recuperating to help with her decisions, she had two evils: the one she knew and the one she did not. The vampires had come clean—or as clean as they ever would—by explaining to her what her options were. Her alternative of escape seemed so remote—and so potentially unsuccessful. Julia couldn't help but feel defeated, beaten down. Her chances of survival if she were to get away would be slim.
For starters, there was no camouflaging the scent of what she was. That was by far the largest obstacle standing in the way of her freedom—or, at least, her true freedom.
Secondly—and this was a terrifying prospect—the Were searched for her just as hard as the vampires would. If she did escape, the likelihood of her being reacquired by another coven or den of the Were was high. She literally could not find sanctuary.
Her heart grieved for Jason. Her pragmatic nature instructed her thought processes, and she moved toward survival. And it seemed she had many years to survive.
She'd been off a million miles away and finally answered William. “Yes, I'm fine.”
He looked at the others and gave them a command outside the decibel range of human hearing. Then he took her by the elbow, and they slowed.
She still felt slightly weak but nothing like the way she'd felt when they had taken the first shuffling steps into the outside air. The smell of it had been cloying, foul—and rich and wonderful.
Freedom had a smell, and Julia had breathed deeply of it.
So long, she'd been underground, held captive in the original thirty-one blocks of Seattle's great city. While the cattle walked overhead, their predators living underneath their feet.
Julia thought about what Claire had told her over a month ago.
*
Julia had awoken and met Claire's stare.
She'd never felt so weak, not even when she had refused to eat for months and when she had to be bathed like a baby by Susan.
She felt cold to her marrow.
“You've lost a tremendous amount of blood from the attack,” Claire had said in her calm way.
Julia looked at her, willing her lips to move, but they didn't cooperate.
Claire smiled and stood. She brought a cup with a bendy straw in it.
As Julia sucked on the plastic tube, cool, clean water saturated her mouth and tongue, which was swollen from lack of use and circulation anomalies.
Finally, when she'd had her fill she asked Claire, “What happened?”
Claire looked away for a moment, a blush of pink lighting on her cheekbones. Her skin was as fair as Julia's. Julia realized she was embarrassed.
“Things got out of hand. A few of the contenders… could not control their bloodlust.” She looked at Julia, who returned the stare without expression, willing her silently to go on. After a pause, she did. “We did not foresee it. But they were quite premeditated. Gabr
iel and I—”
Julia huffed at the leader's name, immediately begrudging his authority. As Julia saw it, he had no authority over her. After all, he was nothing more than a glorified kidnapper, using the weapons at his disposal to manipulate the vampire outcome—for their benefit, she thought sourly, not hers. His weapons of choice were… the vampires, of course.
Claire continued through Julia's insolence as if it didn't exist. “We thought there'd be sufficient protection because of their Singer lineage, but it wasn't enough.” Claire looked at the hands that were wringing themselves in her lap. When she raised her eyes, Julia she saw they were glistening, the tears unshed. “There are so few vampires that are capable of breeding with a Rare One.” She gulped and struggled forward. “Now, there are fewer.”
So what? Julia thought. It wasn't as if those were such great guys who had assaulted her. Whatever. She said as much to Claire, and she nodded reluctantly.
“We know this now. It had been centuries since a female Rare One had entered the coven for this purpose. We didn't anticipate the pull.”
Julia crossed her arms again as she looked up at the shadows that passed across the glass skylight of her room. Why was sunlight allowed to penetrate their lair if it were such a problem?
Claire followed her gaze, smiling. “We have our technologies.”
Julia's eyebrow cocked in question.
Claire gave a little shrug. “They cannot live outside the confines of this space during the day. But we have one that formulated a chemical wash for the glass.” She threw a palm in the direction of the only window in the room.
“So…” Julia's sudden realization of what the shadows were struck her almost dumb.
“Those are people? They are walking over our heads?” she asked incredulously.
Claire nodded. “They do not know of our existence. It is like being hidden in plain sight. You understand this concept, no?”
Julia did. She'd had a babysitter, before her parents were killed, who would hide everyday objects in plain sight. Julia remembered at one point how the babysitter had hidden a sewing thimble on the top of an old TV antenna, and it had been an hour before she'd spied it—metal on metal, almost invisible.
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