by Scott, Talyn
“You hold that particular weapon illegally, Beta.”
He thrust it in Six’s kidney. “You gonna tell my mommy?”
“I heard you were recently mated. So you understand I’m getting what I came here for.” He canted his head, feeling more dangerous than ever. “And you are standing between me and my chosen mate,” he gritted out, “who is not a Were mixed-blood.”
“So you say,” Rock smiled evenly and Sixten wanted to knock his canines out.
“Last warning. Back off,” Sixten demanded. He felt his body getting larger, shifting further, but he didn’t have a clue what was happening. But he knew he was going to kill them all in seconds.
Rock’s eyes widened, before he nearly smashed through the back door. “I smell pureblood Habalines circling in back,” he yelled over his shoulder. “The alley!”
Bane stayed behind and held the miasma that ensured all clubbing humans didn’t notice anything until their group headed out.
Sixten ripped through the Weres the second Bane had dropped his brutal weapon. The asphalt smelled hot as he ran the length of the alley. “Blythe!” His voice was not his own, and she wouldn’t recognize his otherworldly intonation. But he gave it a try anyway. “Blythe, answer me!”
He inclined his head, and picked up on her heartbeat and misted in that direction. A low breeze pushed through his body and brought the tang of her fear on his tongue, sharp and acidic. Of all the things that he wanted to taste on her, this wasn’t it. He spoke through the wind, sending his soothing voice in all directions, “Calm down for me, moja láska.” The scent of fear was a red flare in the middle of an ice storm, and with all the predators circling tonight, one was bound to catch her before he did.
“Moja láska!” the stranger yelled an endearment only one had ever said to her.
“Six?”
Her kidnapper spoke in a calm voice, “He’ll be here soon. But if the others come first, we’ll have to drive to another location.”
Blythe sat inside a luxury two-seater she couldn’t name. She’d never seen anything like it. After he seat belted her in, her hands were somehow fixed behind her back where she couldn’t move them. Although she wasn’t physically uncomfortable, she was purely terrified. They sat idling on a too-quiet and pitch-black backstreet by the river. Early on, her stunning captor told her that they were waiting for another to come. Now, outrageous as it was, he’d confirmed it was Sixten. Somehow, she couldn’t scream for help and moving was an impossibility since no part of her body was willing to cooperate with her brain.
She whimpered again, “Who are you?”
“Right now, I’m the only person who prevents you from becoming taffy amongst thousands of greedy, hungry hands.” The stunning man flashed crazy eyes her way, leaning over the gearshift of a car seemingly itching to take off on its own accord. “No one wants to be pulled in that many directions do they?”
“Ambiguity gives me the willies.” Blythe couldn’t physically shudder, but she sensed her tremors deep inside. Virtually bound from the neck down, she could feel things yet she didn’t quite own her body. “What do you want? And what’s Six doing?”
“Right now, only one thought is dominating his mind, driving him to follow a primitive need he’s ignored for roughly eight years: to take you. He thinks he has to get you away from me, yet I’m the one helping him. He’ll quickly find out that he has to get you away from many. So your battle has merely begun, Blythe Giarrusso. You are distinctive within this realm, and you’re about to find out the lengths people will go to in order to possess you - permanently. A word of advice, though, Sixten is the only one you can trust – not even your precious Ryan.”
“Advice coming from a stranger who has me strapped inside the getaway car should always be taken into consideration.” She tried to laugh, but it came out as tearless, hysterical sob.
A shadow broke through the pool of darkness before her captor opened the driver’s door. The odd voice with its rolling burr thundered, “What the hell, Rave?”
“Take my car. I have guards on your island property. Hurry.”
Blythe managed a small jump when blood suddenly sprayed the windshield followed by scathing vulgarities. However, she couldn’t move enough to get away. Lead replaced her flesh, forcing her body into a peculiar sense of submission. “Help me,” she whispered, knowing how ridiculous her weak efforts were.
The shadow shifted inside the car, churning wildly until she saw Sixten. “I’m here.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” Blythe’s voice was thick and slow and she realized the man probably drugged her somehow.
“We are helping you, little brother,” her captor said from outside.
Sixten hissed like an animal after slamming the door. “This means nothing, Rave!” He spat through the glass, “You owe penance for your sins against me, brother. I owe you nothing for this.”
“Agreed, but accept more help than this.”
“I don’t need you.” He spun away, going in a blinding speed that pushed Blythe’s head against the headrest.
“Six,” she tried to talk to him, but she could hardly understand herself. They were going faster and faster, an overwhelming speed which already carried them down McGregor Blvd. The palm tree lined streets blurred in front of her eyes. Green and gray strokes that kept her mind floating in a surreal state, a dreamlike quality one would expect to have upon the very steps of death’s door. Or a mental detachment brought on by drugs or too much alcohol. She hated it. “Please, Six.”
“You’re alright,” he said in a voice she finally recognized - his own. “We’ll be home soon, and I’ll explain as much as I can. I understand that you’ve been ill, so we’ll take everything slowly.”
“This is far from slowly,” she took a steadying breath and continued, “and what do you mean by home?”
“At this speed, I can make the Sanibel Causeway in another three minutes. After that, ten more minutes will have us sipping champagne in the Jacuzzi in our home on Captiva.”
“Don’t you think one of the tollbooth operators will call the police when I’m seen trussed up in this seatbelt and begging for help?”
“No one will see you,” he answered calmly.
“How can someone miss me sitting here?”
“They’ll see what I want them to see,” he replied in a methodical tone that promised to drive her insane.
She didn’t know what to say to that, so instead, she asked, “Was I drugged?”
He inhaled deeply and shook his head no. A sob left her lips when she spotted something incredibly alarming. “Six, are th-those… f-fangs?”
“Why yes, moja láska, they are.”
“Ooooh.” Bile climbed her throat. “I sooo want out, please.”
“I know, Blythe. I know.” Sixten looked away from her, and she saw knots of tension forming in his jaw. He shook his flaxen head, and platinum streaks flickered as they passed underneath streetlights at a dizzying speed. “It’s too late for you to get away from…what I am.” She stared in shock at his profile. Bone-colored points were hanging over his lower lip. “I tried, angel. I really did.” One hand tightened on the steering wheel while the other wrapped itself around the gearshift to shift down, and he admitted, “The years bought you some time away from my…lifestyle, but that’s all over now. After countless times listening to your refusals to take me back and always respecting them, I can’t concede this time.” He smiled but it wasn’t a smile. “I’ve realized – almost too late, I might add – that you’re safer with me than without me.”
She seemed to disengage in some way, drifting off to a strange sleep she knew was entirely unnatural.
Chapter 12
Rave entered the dark and dingy apartment, gathering clothes from Blythe’s wardrobe and hamper. Even though Donors were a rarity, he had no idea why the Vampyr Lovec was adamant about finding her, in particular. Still, after he’d gotten wind of the hunt, he’d given Sixten a hand in protecting Blythe from th
e hunter this very night.
That decision blew up in his face.
And since his brother continued to refute him, he now had no qualms with using Blythe for his purpose - the greater good of his race. The very one that walked this earth so long ago, coexisting with humans before vampires used them for cattle, giving all immortals a bad name. Now, because of the selfish choices the vampires had made, Rave had no choice himself. He had to use human cattle to keep his half-breeds fed, or they would wander off to hunt. And an uncivilized Habaline - half Species Breed Vampire or werewolf coupled with half Habaline Shapeshifter - wasn’t what the streets of Southwest Florida currently needed.
Rave’s breed of Habalines merely needed time to adjust and settle within their alien side to maintain a sense of sanity when faced with the public. He would be the first to admit that wasn’t easy at all. Habalines were distinctly powerful beings of superiority, yet they were civilized in every way. Nevertheless, when mixed with other species, and Rave hadn’t had a choice in that matter; they didn’t keep the semblance of innocence humans cherished. If a pureblood Habaline wanted, it took. Even so, it paid homage to the costs of its desire, putting things to rights after it finished. However, if a mixed-blood Habaline wanted, it took as well, but with a major difference - a brutal difference. The consequences were of no consequence, and pain was something they enjoyed, whether theirs or someone else’s.
That was the very reason he hadn’t allowed the mixed-blood adults to mate yet.
Like most immortals, Rave prized females – human or otherwise. They were softly supple, deliciously scented, husky-voiced after reaching just one orgasm, and very cooperative once he moved his tongue inside them.
But he loved the grouchy ones, too. The cantankerous sexpots that enflamed his alien blood as the fire-headed Rebecca Walker did back in Scotland. Why did she have to get pregnant by the Alpha? He didn’t feel right about returning and snatching her while she was with child, though he had such plans for her…for them. Maybe he still did. Or maybe, there was another to take her place. One he hadn’t encountered yet. One he could spoil and bring to shameless pleasure repeatedly. One that would be waiting for him when he came home to a real home, warming his sheets and opening her arms wide for him and him alone. “Hope springs eternal,” he laughed greedily while misting to an underground labyrinth well hidden under Captiva Island - a dwelling built by his advanced ancestors, one that stood the test of time.
“He needs to feed.”
Seconds couldn’t pass without requests or serious matters to report. He eyed his second in command, the very one that had killed Blythe’s brother earlier. After placing some of Blythe’s belongs in Poison’s hands, he ordered him, “Send him to the chamber. I’ll bring the Donor myself. One we haven’t used with him.” After weeks in Rave’s care, the poor female Donors were still skittish. He patiently understood, but he wouldn’t give them up for anything and told them so daily.
All Donors were addictive to regular Species Breed Vampires, especially the females. Their intended purpose, the one they’d been born for, was to serve Dynasty Vampyrs exclusively. A special human nature chose to feed the catalyst vampires. If they became unavailable, all vampires, as a whole, would die off. One of the two reasons Rave was taking them. The other reason was to keep his mixed-bloods from rioting and leaving the property. If they were readily granted the transcendent, prohibited blood inside the compound, they wouldn’t hunt for anything inferior on the open Florida streets.
As his community grew, Rave needed more Donors, or he needed to find a way to breed them.
He entered the chamber of a sweet dark-haired and pale female. She trembled the minute he neared her, but he refused to take it to heart. He was her imprisoner, and most days; he was a brutal ass. Just not to her. Even so, she was smart enough to erect her mental walls of protection. He tried to keep his seriousness under wraps, maintaining as friendly a stance as he could. But he was as nervous as she was. All mixed-bloods had a tendency to get very physical, especially since they weren’t allowed to mate. Unfortunate for the beautiful Amy, Rave had to take her to their worst offender, a mixed-blood that had nearly killed a female just last week while trying to fuck her. His men were supposed to be inside the chamber with her, but the offender had fooled security repeatedly, making them complacent on their watch, since they thought he was in the beginnings of playing civilized.
Wrong on all accounts.
Now, Rave had to take time out of his busy schedule to sit in on feedings, especially with the specific devil awaiting this whip of a woman. “I know you don’t want to hear this, sweetheart.”
“No.”
“You’re a helpless victim if you see yourself that way.”
“You’ve treated me badly. What other way is there to see myself?”
She had him there. Most immortals never saw the point in avoiding the unavoidable, and he was no different, so he pulled her in his arms and started for the feeding chamber. “Please be as still as possible, sweetheart. Then, perhaps, he won’t get so excited.”
They entered the next chamber quickly. He didn’t want her to feel as if this were her death march, her hour of doom. So he placed buds in her ears and a soft scarf around her eyes, and then he turned on romantic music most women her age liked to hear. The alternate snarls and slurps wouldn’t help her relax around him, and Rave refused to subject her to more than necessary. Did it wipe the blood off his hands? Nope. But for some reason, it made him feel somewhat generous.
“Adam,” Rave approached the vampire mixed-blood cautiously. Not because he couldn’t take him out, but due to the fact gentle Amy was tucked into his side. He held his arm over her outer ear and pushed her against his ribcage, effectually ensuring the music was the only thing she heard. “We’re starting fresh this day.” Adam’s eyes widened as he took in Amy. He reached for her, but Rave pulled back. “I can’t let you have free reign with the females. Look how tiny she is. Consider how powerful you are. Drink from her until your hunger is sated, but not your desire. If you must, use your palm while you feed. Do we have an understanding? These sweetings are a rarity. If you were to kill one, I wouldn’t be able to mist out and find another easily, if at all.”
Adam blew out an infuriated breath, somewhere between starvation and reluctant submission. “Give her to me.”
Rave pulled her up and placed her in Adam's brawny arms. He was a big one. Bred from a bloodline, which boasted gladiator-style aliens who played blood sports and overpowered inferior populations in another era, a bloodline Rave bred above all. Power spoke where many refused to listen. It made its way generation after generation, molding those around it to evolve with its parasitic fashion and determined leadership. This was exactly what Rave expected out of his efforts.
Power was his weapon.
Rave ignored Amy’s whimpering and watched Adam carefully. “If you want me to spend every day watching you feed and jackoff, then harm her. Harm a single hair on her precious head and you’ll never have the life you desire, the one I want to give you someday.”
Adam sat down, tucking Amy inside his arms, cocooning her with a semblance of reassurance he had no right to offer. But it was a start. Rave sensed Adam’s Species emerging, hungering with need and excitement, deepening within its own will as he struggled not to overpower her with his growing body. Adam’s fangs lengthened, dripping with aphrodisiac-laced endorphins Amy’s body wouldn’t be able to resist, even though her mind shouted otherwise. And the guilt that sprang after she climaxed in her captors arms wouldn’t make her feel any better, but it would come.
Donors always came.
Rave watched with clinical detachment as Adam sank his teeth in her flesh. She struggled longer than he anticipated, before settling back and deciding her resistance wasn’t worth a torn-out throat. Adam groaned around her, swallowing greedily at first, and then slowing into a languid rhythm that mocked the way humans made love. As she became pliant, he swallowed more. Instead of seeking her acqu
iescence, he quickly reached between her legs and trailed his long, thick fingers inside her panties. But Adam had known all along he didn’t need her acceptance, not when she was so heavily drugged from his bite.
Her legs fell open.
For the simple reason, she couldn’t turn away.
No matter how much Amy hated the thought of Adam. She shuddered fiercely by his hand, because her vampire possessed her. All for Adam’s merciless need, the unwilling female became the willing in seconds. He sat drugged on her blood while she sat drugged on his endorphins, an amazing, never-ending cycle that worked in Rave’s favor, just as he’d planned from the beginning.
Nothing stood between the delicious Donor and the mixed-blood’s brutal need except Rave.
This was Rave’s world to command.
A job he did brilliantly.
A simple word left his lips, “Stop.”
Surprisingly, this time, Adam obeyed.
Unfortunate for the Adam, Rave discovered his new, and possibly only, weakness. And like the rest, he would always be his to command.
Chapter 13
When Blythe came to, she realized from the dashboard clock that fifteen minutes had passed. Even though her head felt clouded, she hadn’t forgotten their conversation. “Safer with you…how? Why?” She heard the catch in her breath and felt a lump of pure fear forming in her throat. She remembered fangs. What were with the fangs? “Six, answer me!”
“Blythe, tonight a stranger easily captured you and held you in a running car.” He shook his head determinedly. “That will never happen again,” he said with conviction. “I won’t allow anyone to harm you.”
“H-he was doing that for you,” she stammered, “for all this stupid bullshit you’re doing right now.”
