by Aliya DalRae
However, the panic in her eyes told him he hadn’t been successful in hiding what she had done.
Raven was shocked when he felt her teeth sink into his skin, surprised that she had taken his blood as a Vampire would, with such enthusiasm.
But, gods help him, it felt good when she bit him. This was something intimate, shared only by mated Vampires, and Raven had heard dozens of stories about it, believing maybe half. Human males weren’t the only ones who liked to embellish. But based on his reaction, could the stories be true?
He shook his head, dismissing the whole thing. Jessica was human, and there could never be that kind of connection between a Vampire and a human female. Human males could only Link with Vampires after they were turned. For Raven and Jessica? It simply wasn’t possible.
Perhaps he had made a mistake, giving her his blood this way. It was rare that a Vampire would share such a gift with a human. Rare that a human would be worth saving at this expense once, let alone twice. But his prior success born of desperation had made him confident tonight. It never occurred to him that there could be—repercussions.
“I’ll be right back,” Raven said, rising to get a pan of water to clean her up, and supplies to tend to his own sticky problem. She grabbed his hand, panic in her eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised, squeezing her fingers, and laying them gently back on her stomach.
What if this damaged her somehow? Human females could not be turned. It was genetically impossible, and every attempt had resulted in the death of the female. But something was going on. Maybe it was the sexual connection they shared.
Yeah, right. Because sex is the first thing you think of when you are fading from life due to blood loss. Raven looked at his wrist again. The wounds healed, but the skin was still red where she had held him with her teeth. A shiver of pleasure passed through him.
“Raven?” she called.
“I’ll be right there.”
He gave his hands, arms and face a quick washing up in the kitchen sink, gathered the supplies he needed, and returned to the living room.
“Are you avoiding me?” she asked as he sat down near the bow window and arranged his tools—several old towels, a bowl with hot water, a knife and some tweezers. She was sitting up now, leaning against the back of the couch and holding the dish towel on her shoulder. She averted her eyes when he looked at her, which twisted his heart, but he was pleased to see the color return to her cheeks in a blush.
“Of course not,” he said, watching her. “I just need to get this thing out of my chest before it heals in place. It’s already been in too long.”
“Sorry,” she drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She was still shaking, and Raven thought she might be cold. He left his things on the floor and retrieved the afghan from the back of the sofa, wrapping it gently around her shoulders. “Thanks,” she mumbled, still not looking at him as she pulled the edges together in front of her.
There was much to discuss, but Raven really needed to get rid of this stake. He hated to make her wait, but this had to be done ASAP. Probably should have done it at the sink, but he couldn’t bear to leave her alone that long. He’d buy her new carpet too. Anything she wanted, if only she would smile again.
Bracing himself against the wall, Raven tried first to pull the wood from his chest, hoping it would come right out. He’d lost a lot of blood, though, to his injuries as well as to Jessica, and the thing didn’t budge. There was nothing doing. He was going to have to cut it out.
Reaching for the knife, Raven sliced his shirt down the front and pulled it away from the stake before removing it completely. He wadded it into a ball and held it underneath the piece of wood to catch what blood he could. He angled the knife at the wound, but struggled with the positioning. It would be a lot easier if someone else did this. He glanced at Jessica, who sat across from him, staring into space.
“Jessica?”
“Yeah,” she said, not looking up.
“I hate to ask, but are you feeling up to helping me? I can’t get the angle, and I don’t want to cut wrong.” Jessica was a nurturer. Maybe this would help them both.
“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, turning her head away.
“I need you, Jess. I can call Tas back, but it would be easier if we could do this now. I understand if you are too injured still, but…”
“It’s not that, Raven. It’s the blood.” She looked at him then, and what he saw made the fluid in his veins turn to ice. There was a blankness to her gaze that had never been there before, as though Jessica was no longer in residence.
“Please, amante, don’t be afraid. What happened was unusual, but we will find a way to explain it. Until then, I need your help.” Raven felt her distress keenly, and knew he needed to distract her. Cutting him was probably not the best way to go about it, but it was all he had right now.
Her movements were in slow motion as she dropped the afghan from her shoulders and crawled to Raven’s side. After what seemed hours, she raised her eyes to his, her concern palpable. The smear of Raven’s blood still painted her lips, and he reached for her to kiss it away, but she pulled back and took the knife from him instead.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked. The towel had fallen from her shoulder, and the wound was looking better with each passing moment. Regardless of what transpired from this point forward, Raven would never regret healing her.
“Make a few incisions around the diameter of the stake—deep, but not too deep—and see if you can pull it out. I can help when it comes to that point, but I can’t hold the knife right to make the cuts,” he said, handing her the blade.
Jessica took what was offered, one of Raven’s eight inch “hunting” knives, and shook her head. “Couldn’t find a scalpel?” she quipped, but it lacked her usual humor.
She leveled the point near the protruding stake with unsteady hands. Raven reached out to help her, but she jerked away. “Don’t touch me, Raven. Please.”
“I’m sorry,” he said hoping like hell the progress they’d made earlier had not been erased with this latest development.
“Raven?” she whispered, the knife’s edge poised at his chest.
“Yes, amante.”
“I don’t want to be a Vampire.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
C utting the stake out of Raven’s chest, on top of everything else that transpired tonight, was almost more than I could handle. I know why he made me do it, to get my mind off the other crap that had gone down, but it still pissed me off. The last thing I wanted to do was see his blood. Smell it. Want it like I had earlier. I’d bitten him, for chrissakes, without even knowing it.
But I’m nothing if not resilient, and I can’t stand to see an animal in pain, so I bucked up and ran to the rescue, just like I’ve always done.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. A few cuts and a yank, and out it came. I picked a few splinters out with the tweezers, and my job was done. Raven said the hole would heal up as soon as he fed again, but he wasn’t asking for a donation, and I didn’t offer.
Truth was, I wondered what it would be like to bite him while he bit me. To taste him while he tasted me. The mere thought had me tingling in places I didn’t want to think about, so I gathered up the bloody towels and other tools and headed for the kitchen.
I dropped the knife and tweezers in the sink, and went to the laundry room to start a load of towels. It wasn’t like the blood was going to come out, but once they were relatively clean I could use them in the shop. Waste not, want not.
I returned to the kitchen to find Raven at the sink, washing off his knife. He was a morbid mess, which reminded me there were two bodies in my yard. Again.
I flipped off the barn lights to keep anyone driving by from seeing anything untoward. I didn’t like being in the dark like that, but what can you do?
“So, what do we do with Mutt and Jeff out there?” I asked.
“I called Mason. He’s sendi
ng someone out to take care of it.”
“Oh.” It was all I could think of to say.
“How’s the shoulder?” he asked, drying his knife on a clean towel.
I looked down to check, and discovered I was wearing nothing but a bra with one of the straps chewed through and a pair of jeans with the button ripped off. Nice. But what I could see of the shoulder was looking better, so I said as much.
“Look,” I added, “I’m going to jump in the shower. You’re welcome to…” To what? Join me? He looked at me hopefully and I shook my head.
“I was going to say, you’re welcome to wash up when I’m finished, or even go first if you want. You still have some things upstairs. I’ll get them for you. You might feel better if you were clean.”
“I’d feel better if you would talk to me.”
I stopped, expecting to find him staring holes in me, but he simply stood at the sink, focused on drying that knife.
Raven is a badass Vampire, the baddest in the history of all Vampire-kind. But I kept forgetting how fragile his spirit was. As inexperienced as I was at relationships, having avoided them most of my life, he was newer still. Resolved, I turned around and pulled out a chair.
“Sit,” I said, pointing at the seat as I took the one across from it. When he sat, I said, “Talk.” And I waited.
Raven stared at me.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll start. I’ll ask a question and you can answer it.” He nodded so I asked, “What happened in there, when I drank from you?”
Raven shrugged. “You bit me.”
“Seriously?” I sighed. “Raven, I’m a little freaked out here. I know you’re trying to act like everything is okay, but you were just as surprised as I was. Does this kind of thing happen a lot?”
Raven blew out a heavy breath and laid his hand palm up on the table, a silent plea. I hesitated, but took what was offered, the touch unexpectedly soothing. “I honestly don’t know, Jessica. What we’ve done, well it’s not exactly common practice. Usually it is only used when a Vampire overfeeds and needs to make sure the human doesn’t die—that’s sort of illegal—and usually it won’t be done to the same human more than once. What has occurred between you and me? I really don’t know.”
He was being sincere, but I could tell he was more fascinated than sorry. I became engrossed in the patterns and lines on his palm, tracing them with my fingers.
“You promised me I couldn’t be turned,” I said, unable to mask the accusation.
“You can’t, Jessica, I swear. It’s genetically impossible.”
“Yeah?” I said, lifting my chin and looking him in the eye. “Then explain to me why I found it so…enjoyable…to drink your blood.” I shuddered as I said it, and the fact that the shudder was not one of revulsion was exasperating. “Normal people don’t do that,” I added.
Raven tried to look remorseful, and I gave him an E for effort, but he was doing a piss poor job of hiding his true feelings. The possibilities excited him and why wouldn’t they? His human girlfriend was jumping on board with the Vampire program. I could almost see his mind turning, imagining what it would be like to grab some random human and share a V meal together. Ugh.
At least I found that slightly repugnant.
“Look, Jessica. I’ll talk to Merlin. If he doesn’t know, he’ll know someone who will. But please don’t worry. I promise you, it is impossible for you to be turned.”
“How do you know?” I asked, afraid to hope.
“Because all who have tried, have failed.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
P atrick stared at the closed door for a long moment after Malcolm walked out. No argument, no more threats, he simply left without a word. They were going to have trouble with that one, he was certain.
Patrick didn’t know if it was the kind of trouble that threatened Jessica being made aware of his and Maggie’s involvement in her life, or the kind where Malcolm pursued his daughter romantically. Either way, he would not be happy.
Maggie rose to join him at the desk, taking the seat Malcolm had vacated. She watched as his fingers toyed with the photograph of their Jessica as a child, walking happily from the Courthouse with her brand new parents. Until recently, they had let this photo be a reminder that their daughter was safe and living a normal life, one they would never have been able to give her.
When her adoptive parents died, however, Maggie wanted Jessica looked after, just for a little while, to make sure she was okay, and Patrick didn’t see the harm. Maggie didn’t have visions like Jessica did, but she had very keen instincts, and Patrick had learned to heed her requests without question. As usual, those instincts were dead on. Jessica met up with the Vampires not long after Malcolm was hired, and it all made sense.
They had sacrificed everything in order for their first born child to have that happy, uncomplicated life. The fact that it was all for nothing tore at his wife’s heart, both of their hearts. But again, if she hadn’t met the Vampire, she would never have known about Allie’s abduction. She wouldn’t have been there to save her little sister, and Patrick and Maggie would be mourning the loss of another child.
Patrick sighed and stood to join his wife on the other side of the desk, taking the seat next to her. He reached for her hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing her fingers one by one, and she smiled a small smile.
“It will be okay,” he said, and she looked up to meet his gaze.
“I know,” she replied. “I don’t feel it to be otherwise, but…”
“But what?”
“I think he really loves her, our Jessica,” she said quietly. “Should you have been so adamant that he stay away from her?”
“If he does, no amount of threat from me will stop him from chasing after her, especially now that he’s no longer watching her for us. I think he’ll feel freer yet to pursue her romantically.”
“Would you really have him killed, if he doesn’t stay away?”
“If he touches our daughter, I’ll kill him myself on general purposes,” Patrick growled.
“He seemed like a nice man,” Maggie said, watching her husband’s eyes.
“Yeah, but he’s a—,”
“A what?” Maggie prodded, eyes narrowed.
“He’s a cat,” Patrick replied, his mouth twisting in disgust.
“And that’s worse than a Vampire?” Maggie asked, smiling. Patrick sighed.
“I suppose not. What worries me, though, is that he’ll confess to her. Everything. If she finds out about us, we will have no choice but to bring her into our world.”
“Again, and that’s worse than Vampires? Really, Patrick, I think she’s old enough to make her own decisions. Allie adores her. She cried after Jessica like she used to cry for me. Would it be so bad to have our oldest daughter back in our lives?”
Maggie retrieved her hand from her husband’s grasp and ran it through her auburn curls. “We protected her when she was younger by keeping her out of this world. But things were different then. You had just taken control of the Pack, and it was still unsettled. Now we’re like a family. We contribute to society, pay our taxes, and rarely kill anyone. She’s accepted the Vampires, for heaven’s sake. Surely she would accept the wolves.”
Patrick stared at the tattered photograph on his desk, his face a mask of misery.
“It’s not the wolves I’m afraid she’ll reject,” he said. “It’s us.”
Chapter Sixty-Four
I saw the reflection of headlights pulling into the drive as they did the searchlight thing on the kitchen walls. Raven squeezed my hand and said, “They’re here. I’ll go out and get them started.”
I got up to follow him and he stopped me. “Maybe you should change into something…warmer?” Oh yeah. I was still half naked.
As Raven went out the front door, I slid into the laundry room and grabbed something off the top of the dryer. I was stiff and sore, and my shoulder still felt like it had been through a meat grinder, but at least it wasn’t raw any
more. My bra was ruined, though, so I took it off and threw it in the trash before donning a grey Ohio sweatshirt and a fresh pair of jeans. I crumpled the bloody pair I had been wearing and threw them in the pile of work clothes that needed washing. A little bleach and a new button and they would be perfect for the shop. Yay.
I grabbed a sweater off the coat rack and headed outside to supervise the cleaning of my property. I wasn’t sure what I could add, or if the crew would even listen to me, but it made me feel better to be involved.
I walked out into the crisp night air and stopped, surprised by how pretty it all was, the stars brighter than I could ever recall. It occurred to me that I couldn’t remember when I’d last seen the sky without the pollution from my barn lights.
I took a deep breath and headed down the sidewalk where all the action had taken place, and ran right into Harrier. Cripes, the man was everywhere. He grabbed my arms to steady me, and when I winced, he frowned.
“What’s happened to you?” he asked, his brogue coming out a bit.
“Oh, same ol’, same ol’.” I said, looking around him to see who all was there. “Partied with a couple of ferals. They thought I was the buffet. Yada, yada, yada.”
I thought Harrier would let go of me once I was steadied, but he surprised me be holding on. I looked up to find his sharp features twisted, his eyes brighter than they should be.
“Are you okay, then?” he asked.
Good God, we really were going to be friends.
“Yeah. Raven helped me, again.” I said the “again” under my breath but Harrier must have heard because his hands tightened on my arms, making me wince again.
“Show me the damage?” He released his grip on my sore arm and brushed my hair to the side. I caught sight of Raven near the driveway, watching this tender little scene, and could tell by his posture he was getting perturbed.
“Maybe later,” I mumbled, stepping around Harrier. He seemed to be really upset, so I patted him on his brick-hard chest, told him I would be fine. He grunted something, but I didn’t even try to figure out what he said. I needed to get to Raven and prevent further bloodshed. I didn’t know why Harrier had decided to become my best bud, but with those two at each other all the time, nothing about it was going to be easy.
