“I respect you as both a human and a woman.”
“Too late,” she hissed. “I’m no longer either one.” Human females were women. She was just female. Of what species? Anxiety stoked the anger.
He glanced at her fangs, the shadow in his eyes betraying his apprehension. He feared her.
That both saddened her and delighted her. No, saddened. She didn’t want to be feared by anyone. Ever. It had never been a thought, much less an aspiration.
“Melody,” Quution interjected, but didn’t physically come between them. “Can you table your rage toward Creed for a moment so we can analyze the situation?”
She shot him a glare, but instead of meeting his gaze, his was directed at her horns. What about her horns? She resisted stroking them to make sure they were okay. For a body part she’d never desired, she was suddenly protective of them.
Creed spread his feet apart and bent his knees. Getting in a fighting position, eh? She could totally take him.
No! Fighting was not her thing. She was a daddy’s girl.
Daddy would want her to kick some ass.
No! He’d never condoned fighting.
Because she’d been a girl and he’d thought she was incapable. Just like Creed. The red haze blooming from the dark pit in her mind won.
A malicious grin spread across her face. The big male vampire was going to get his ass whipped again for daring to insult her.
No, this was wrong. She’d been distressed when she’d hurt him.
Uncertainty rippled through Creed’s expression as his gaze stuck to her horns. Her insecurity roared. Was he judging them? Comparing them to…to…whoever he knew with horns? She crouched lower, spread her fingers to allow her claws to extend fully, and prepared to attack.
When had she so easily started to accommodate her body changes? The battle with the three male demons had been sudden. This was calculated, her mind already plotting their weak points.
Quution backed toward the exit. “Brimstone and tinder, Creed. We need to get out of here.”
Creed’s body language was clear. He was resolute. Still thinking he could best her?
“Run, Creed,” she taunted, “before I spank you again.” That was too fun. A deadly fight was not a merry run around the playground, tossing teases back and forth. This was serious, it shouldn’t be enjoyable.
“I’m not leaving you. Calm down, Melody.”
“Calm down?” She could barely speak past her fangs. How big did they get? Creed placating her disrupted her equilibrium worse than when he asked how she was doing. Did anyone ever tell him to calm down when he was upset? The hand action he gave the words, motioning her to calm down, like she was a feral kitten. Calm down.
Calm down, Melody. I only asked you not to act like a boy for once.
Mom’s words banged against her skull until the black pit of unstable emotions glowed like an ember.
She flinched as Quution shouted, “The horns. Watch the horns!”
Watch what horns? His horrified gaze was riveted above her forehead.
Oh. Her horns. Yes, they probably still dripped with intestines. Is that too unladylike for you, Mom? Even that sarcastic thought felt good though her mom was long dead. And when she’d been alive, Melody would never have said anything resembling sarcasm. She’d desperately wanted her mother’s approval too badly.
“Melody,” Creed said, with that damn “slow down” motion of his hands.
Melody, if you cut your hair, you’re sleeping in the dog kennel and the dog will get your bed. Quit crying, now. Calm down…
A snarl ripped from her throat and she leaped for Creed.
He ducked and lunged to the right. Her reaction was faster than she’d ever experienced. She snagged his shirt, the rip spurring her adrenaline.
He wheeled around and charged.
Quution yelled again. “No, you dense male. The horns.”
Creed barreled into her torso and they both plowed back. Her claws dug into his sides, but she was helpless against his momentum. Thankfully, the claws didn’t extend to her feet, but they would’ve been handy at the moment. Yes, the horns.
He was trying to control her again. What next? He’d tell her she looked foolish in her camouflaged Boggs—boots that were great for hunting in any weather, by the way. They were only practical. Why can’t you be a goddamn girl for once?
Her shriek rang out as a battle cry.
Watch her horns. Damn right. Melody tilted her head. A good skewering would show him. A tiny voice inside of her suggested that this was a bad idea. Creed wasn’t trying to kill her, nor was he trying to hurt her in any way. Other than deeply insulting her with his “I’m so prime and she’s so human” comment weeks ago, he’d done nothing but protect her.
But he avoided her!
He’d also sat at her side while she’d been in her quasi coma. Her muscles tensed to keep herself from launching at him on the whims of her tumultuous emotions.
But his gaze lifted to her horns. His determined expression morphed to horrified, the lips she’d had too many dreams of kissing separated in alarm. He jerked backward a step. It was enough to re-stimulate her horn insecurity and tip her precarious mental balance to rage.
With a battle cry, she meant to tip her head even more, but she didn’t need to. A cloudy purple horn descended and the menacing tip stuck Creed in the flank.
Quution flung his hands up in an it’s all gone to hell way. Creed released her; they both stumbled back.
Her jaw dropped. The horn hovered for a second, the point shiny with Creed’s blood, before wrapping itself around her head, like mission complete. She gingerly touched it. The warm surface was as smooth as bone. They moved. On their own. She was angry with Creed so they poked him. Were they going to go sticking every person she was irked at? The way she was feeling, that’d leave a long line of victims.
And purple?
There was no hiding purple horns in her blond hair.
“Shit.” Creed’s panicked gaze shot to Q. “What’s the antidote?”
“Nothing that I know of.” Quution asked her, “Do you know of one?”
“An antidote?” She panted. Her hands fisted and relaxed, ready for more.
Quution gestured to her head. “The poison in your horns. It’s a—”
Creed interrupted. “It’s a fucking sex drug. Why’d you do that?”
“They must’ve felt I was threatened,” she said sweetly, but her heart was pounding. A sex drug. She thought Hypna controlled plants or something. Sex venom? Who the hell had sex venom?
This girl, apparently. Would Creed want to… With her? With anyone? Yes, to all the above?
“Whatever is going on in that clever head of yours, my answer is an affirmative to all your questions.” Quution wiggled his fingers and backed fully into the passageway. He checked his left and right before weaving his hands in a pattern around the opening. Her skin tingled and her hair felt lighter, like when she’d go through a staticky slide, playing with the boys she nannied.
God, she missed the boys. The thought was a small dose of normalcy that she missed terribly since waking up.
“Q, don’t you dare leave.” Creed lurched toward him, then stopped. His body shuddered and stepped closer to her. He shook his head as if he was trying to fight it.
Her temper spiked again. “Afraid of being alone with me?” she purred. Why was she acting like this? She’d poisoned Creed.
She’d attacked him—again.
No wonder he thought he was better than her. He could control himself.
Pressing her fingers to her temples, she lightly massaged. Her mood swings were giving her a headache. Her red haze was dying down to leave a black gaping pit of… What was she feeling now? Confusion. Despair.
What were her sayings again? I’m not enough as I am. No, not right. Aim, sight, squeeze. No, that was for shooting.
Quution faced them. “I’m not too proud to admit that this situation has progressed to a point I failed to cons
ider. I’ve sealed the entrance. You two are safe. To anyone wandering by, the energy will read as simply a continuation of a wall. My web of power will block all sound coming out. You two work this business out.”
“How? How long does it take to wear off?” She was locked in with Creed and he wanted to have sex with her against his will. She’d roofied him. Somehow that seemed worse than ripping his throat out. He could defend himself against that. He hadn’t, though. Why?
The black pit of anger and anguish finally quieted as she gazed at a Creed who’d gone pale, was breathing heavy, and was possibly in extreme mental and physical turmoil.
“After a few hours, I hear. Or after ejaculation, of course,” Quution said. “The logistics are up to you two.” He disappeared, leaving them alone.
She crossed her arms and eyed Creed warily. “I’m not in the mood. Just so you know. And I don’t need to drug someone to have sex with them.” A few times in her life, she’d been wanted. Not enough for anyone to stay.
“It’s not your fault, Melody.” His distress was clear in each word. He bent over with a grunt to prop himself on his knees, seemed to think better of it and straightened. There was a noticeable bulge in his demolished pants. He spun around as if to hide it from her. “None of this is really you.”
“What if it is?” she mumbled.
He looked over his shoulder at her, but whipped his head back around—after he’d ogled her up and down. She looked down at her herself. Naked, without an inch of skin safe from grime, dried blood, and other unmentionables. Her plus a sex drug equaled a miserable vampire.
A feminine glow threatened to ignite in her belly, but she stomped it down. Not under these circumstances; nothing about this should make her glow.
“Why would you say that?” he wheezed. “You’re the most innocent person I’ve ever met. The last several hours…it’s all Hypna’s power.”
But it wasn’t Hypna’s power anymore. She wasn’t Hypna. All the changes Melody was experiencing were hers alone.
“You’ll need to knock me out.” Creed gasped, his body shaking. “I can’t hold myself for long before I attack you. One of us will end up dead.”
“You trust me with your unconscious body?” That was, like…really bold. Then again, he didn’t have a choice.
“Yes. And you obviously can defend us both. Do it. Knock me out. I’m not taking you like this.” His words “I’m not taking you at all” were barely audible. If she’d had her old hearing, she’d have missed it.
She sucked in a breath. “That’s right. I’m not good—”
“It’s not that, dammit!” He twitched like he was going to glance back at her, but he shook his head hard. “That’s furthest from the reason. You’ve only known me as part of Demetrius’s team. You don’t know what I’ve done before that, who I hurt. I’m the one not good enough for you.”
She sucked in another breath with a squeak. Did he really think that?
He was rocking back and forth, curled into himself. So miserable. What emotion was that gaping hole in her psyche going to toss out, if anything? Yes. Sympathy.
With a heavy sigh, she made her decision to do as he asked. She shuffled toward him, balled her fist, and chucked him upside the head. He fell in a limp bundle on the dirt floor.
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she scurried into a corner. She stared at her hand. One-hit Melody.
She blinked. Wetness stained her cheeks. Crying again. She sniffled.
I’m the one not good enough for you.
In the worst situation of her life, that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her.
***
Creed groaned. Awareness trickled in.
Unconscious again?
He inhaled a measured breath. If he was in trouble, he didn’t want his captors knowing he was conscious.
The most decadent scent filled his nose. For a vampire, he’d always had a thing for salted caramel, and Melody smelled like a gourmet treat.
She’d probably hate to be told that. Maybe not. He didn’t know her likes and dislikes. What was her favorite color? Food?
No, he knew that one. She loved lasagna. Always added more cheese, according to Rourke’s mate.
Her favorite color was pink camouflage. He’d been in her room once.
Did she like salted caramel? The brimstone taint was nearly unnoticeable.
Brimstone.
The rest of the story flooded back to him. Getting stabbed with her horn and injected with Hypna’s poison. She’d knocked him out, like he’d asked. Had it been hard for her to do?
He was still alive. That was promising.
“I know you’re awake,” she said softly.
He cracked an eye open. Her senses were increasing to match his kind. Or should he say to match the level of creature the powers came from.
“Were there any problems while I was out?” He tried to sit up, but he was immobilized. Looking down, all he saw was twine wrapped around him.
“You were shaking like you were cold.”
He looked around to find her. She was in the same corner he and Quution had found her in. “Thank you.”
They watched each other. Her hair was as crusted and matted as his probably was. She was naked, and he might as well be, but her twine blanket was indeed cozy. If only he wasn’t anchored to the ground.
“I think the poison’s worn off if you’d like to release me.” He spoke carefully, not sure what would set off her mood.
“It wore off a while ago, I’m guessing. You maintained an erection for an impressively long time. I didn’t think it was possible to be erect when passed out, but maybe it was my poison. Then you started shaking. You haven’t fed enough to heal from what I did. And I’m guessing you didn’t feed during your bedside vigil. When was the last time you did? Never mind. It doesn’t matter after what you’ve been through. How are we going to feed you?” A rumble filled the room. “There goes my stomach again. I’m always so hungry. I have no idea what I can eat that’ll satisfy the craving. If three thugs didn’t solve it…” She shuddered, her face paled.
He’d missed her rambling. “To be fair, I don’t know how much you actually ingested of those guys. There were a lot of remains left.”
Her nose scrunched up. Good, the thought disgusted her. She was the last person he’d suspect of harboring a vicious nature. It was the demon power. Not her.
“Does it matter?” she asked. “There were three. Eating part of anyone…” The haunted quality of her expression ripped his heart open.
“It’s the way it is down here.” He didn’t have to lie. “It was kill or be killed.”
“Actually, it wasn’t. They were going to take me to the Circle.”
“Once they learned they might be able to access Hypna’s powers, it would still be a kill or be killed situation.” She didn’t look comforted. “Again, it’s the way it is down here, and in our realm with my kind.”
“Your kind isn’t nearly as cruel as the underworld.”
“Many of them are. I know too many vampires who’d…” Nope. Not going back to the days his family trafficked humans.
“Finish.” The edge to her tone startled him. She’d always been a nervous flutter around him, with wide adoring eyes. The adoration was gone, replaced by command. The sharpness in her tone and movements were at odds with the Melody he knew, but more in line with the glimpses he’d gotten of her inner life. Her bedroom full of hunting regalia. The trophies weren’t for the sake of trophies, but to highlight moments she came out ahead.
He not only didn’t want to revisit his past, but he didn’t want to share it with Melody. She was—had been—his breath of innocence. How could he explain it? Listing the atrocities his family, and for a while, he, committed wasn’t enough. It might seem too theatrical, too unrealistic.
“Creed, what else have we got to do? You might as well talk.”
She had him there. Quution’s wards were still on the door, and Creed was recovering. “You’re a hun
ter, right?”
She nodded. “I used to. Mostly deer hunting. I loved fishing, too. I can fry the meanest fillet. But as soon as Daddy put the bow in my hand, I was on to bigger game. Soon after, he taught me to use a shotgun.”
“And when you hunted, did you go after the young game, the weak or sick?”
She shook her head, her hair too clumped to fly around. “Of course not. Especially if I got a buck tag that year. I left the ones with a small rack alone. A lot of hunters do. It’s pointless and heartless to shoot something because it can be shot.”
“I know a lot of vampires who didn’t care, who don’t care. They’ll target humans and go out of their way to capture the young and the weak, namely females. Not that females are weak,” he said quickly when her look turned fearsome. “But the old school vampires think so. It’s an innate ability in us. When you hunted, did you kill for just a meal and move on?”
“For meat, of course.”
“Were you poor?”
“No. But groceries can be expensive for anyone. Back to the story. What point are you trying to make?”
Wow. She’d never been so direct with him. He…liked it. “The Circle kills without discretion. They constructed a shit plan to take over because they’re too impulsive on who and how much they kill. We think that’s awful; we don’t want their influence in our realm. But the truth is that I knew many vampires who are the very same way.” Like my parents. “They’d kill humans over and over, just to feed their fill, and leave the discarded body to rot and the human’s family to wonder what happened to their loved one. Sometimes—” he clenched his jaw, but he had to keep going, “—they’d just take the whole family. Feast off them for weeks, treat them abominably, discard them. It was a waste of life. A waste of resources.” When her eyes flickered with impending anger, a look he was coming to recognize and tread lightly around, he clarified. “We can feed off humans. It’s not nearly as satisfying. No offense, it’s biology. Human blood is just blood. Vampire blood is blood and power, and we feed off both in a way. Like we need water to live, but milk is so much more filling.”
She nodded and the glint died, but not completely. The hint of darkness in her soothing baby blues had been there since she’d woken up.
Creed (New Vampire Disorder Book 5) Page 5
