Venom & Vampires: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Casey Lane

  Taking a deep breath, she met that furious green gaze, and bared her teeth.

  “If you want to live, I’d start running.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Naomi was dying.

  She had no feeling below her shoulders and breathing was a challenge. Instinct made her call out, but all she could manage was a breathy, “Help!”

  This is it. I am going to die here in this forest, alone, and all because I tried to keep a half-breed alive.

  When she was younger, she’d been told that if you did a good deed, you’d get rewarded. Well, that was certainly a lie, because all she’d ever tried to do was save people, rather than letting them get murdered by the likes of Monique, and now she was going to die. Worse, Monique and her merry band of hunters had probably killed Subject 2013 and the alpha anyway.

  So what had been the point of all this?

  She wanted to tell her family that she loved them, but didn’t have telepathy, couldn’t reach out to her Green-eyed sister, Faith. Maybe Faith would feel her die and come looking for her.

  Footsteps nearby; they were going to run right by her.

  Opening her eyes she saw him: Parker Ash, the Duke of Ashes. He was staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head, but there he was, with blood all over his chin and hands...

  He pointed a long, elegant finger at her. “You!”

  She wanted to say, “Me,” but she didn’t have the breath.

  Next thing she knew, he was kneeling on the forest floor next to her, his hands touching her everywhere, checking for injuries. It was too bad she couldn’t feel a thing; she might have enjoyed it otherwise.

  Naomi!

  What? She was dying and he was a handsome man, so what if he was a vampire.

  Maybe that just showed how far away from the cause she’d strayed: admiring a vampire, protecting his daughter, saving lives rather than bowing to some twisted sense of justice and taking them.

  His hands reached her neck and she gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice was quiet, deep, and it rumbled through her mind. She could enjoy listening to him speak. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing that he’d be the last person she’d ever hear.

  “Neck’s…broken.”

  He tilted his head to the side. Show off. “That’s a bad thing, right?”

  She huffed out what might have been a laugh. “Very…bad.”

  His dark purple gaze locked on her face. “Why are you here? You’ve been following me.”

  Surely he couldn’t know that. She’d had her sight-shield in place. “Not…you.”

  His eyes widened. “Aria.”

  Nodding was beyond her. All she could see was his face now, as if down a tunnel. It was everything she would have imagined, if she’d ever considering dreaming up the perfect man. “You’re pretty.”

  Had she just said that aloud?

  Probably, he was frowning.

  “Why were you following my daughter?”

  She swallowed. It hurt. “She…alive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  She shut her eyes. Something touched her face.

  “Go…away. Dying.” Her eyelids flickered open; the duke was rolling up his sleeves.

  “I’ll Choose you,” he said.

  “No!” Sure, she was dying now, but she couldn’t feel a thing. If he got his blood into her, it might start the healing process, and that would leave her in agony until the third blood transfer. Then she’d die.

  No Graced had ever survived being Chosen, or Bitten.

  “It’s the only way to save you,” the duke said.

  “Choose…will…kill me.” But the effort of speaking was too much. The last thing she saw was Parker Ash’s face. His cheeks were drawn tight, and his mouth was pursed, almost like he was worried. About her. Which was crazy.

  Then there was nothing but darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sebastian’s pulse was weak. He’d collapsed on his back, barely conscious, his head propped up on a broken branch; sweat dripped from his chin, and his shirt and pants were torn to shreds. Somehow, he’d reset his arm, but Ari could tell it wasn’t healing like it should.

  Monique – the bitch – had run, as fast as she could through the woods. Ari hoped to never see her again.

  “Feed him.”

  Ari spun, ready to face another attacker. Instead, shock glued her to the spot. A stranger stood looking back at her; a stranger who looked like Xave and Nick.

  Well, not exactly like them – she just had their coloring – but it was still like a punch to Ari’s gut. Gradually, however, the shock wore off. It was good to know that people like her brother could survive, although Ari had no idea how this woman had managed that.

  Now was not the time to ask.

  “Feed him?” Ari replied at last. “With what?”

  “Your blood.” The woman moved closer, with a musical tinkling sound. Ari spotted little bells woven into her hair.

  “Uh, he isn’t a vampire.”

  “No, but you aren’t exactly a normal vampire, either.” Her pale gaze narrowed.

  “He’s a were. Were’s don’t drink blood to live.”

  Sebastian coughed. “Look, I’m not all that into the idea of drinking blood, but I’d do what she says.”

  “Why?”

  His gaze locked on her. “You know what she is, right?”

  Blood and pain and death.

  Yes, Ari knew what this woman was.

  “How is this going to help him?” she demanded.

  “You drank his blood, yes?”

  Ari nodded, fighting the blush that threatened to bloom over her cheeks.

  “Then it should work.”

  “Should?”

  The albino gave a half-shrug, with raised palms. “Probably will?”

  Ari didn’t like those odds, but still she swiped one of her claws over her wrist, and shoved it at Sebastian. His lips clamped down over the wound and he sucked. The cut was healing too quickly, however, and he bit down on her soft flesh. She hissed at the pain, and he pulled away, guilt stamped on his features.

  If this was going to help him… “Do it again,” Ari said.

  “It hurts you.”

  “Your kicking the bucket will hurt me. Drink. Now.”

  When he didn’t bite down, she slashed her wrist again and he latched on. Over and over she had to cut herself until eventually the albino stopped her.

  The woman looked over Sebastian from head to foot and nodded. “That should be enough.”

  “What do we do now?” Ari rubbed her wrist. It had healed, but the remembered pain lingered.

  “Wait.”

  “I need some help!” Her father strode into view, carrying a woman over his shoulder – the redhead. The sight of the albino woman didn’t surprise him; in fact, he tilted his head at her. “Ralia.”

  They know each other?

  Ari stood up. “Father.”

  The duke dumped the body at his feet, then closed the distance to his daughter. Carefully, he cupped her cheeks. “You’ve got blood on you.”

  She couldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s okay, I’m healed.”

  He lowered his hands. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Then Sebastian cut through the uneasy discourse, “I thought you told that woman to run.”

  Ari looked down at Monique’s body, the red hair was stark against the brown earth. “I did.”

  The duke just shrugged. “She didn’t run fast enough.”

  “But—”

  “Look, you can yell at me later for getting rid of this problem,” her father slashed a hand through the air, “but I have another issue to take care of.”

  Lia nodded. “The spy.”

  Ari frowned. “What spy?”

  “Follow me.”

  He strode back through the forest, to where the strawberry blonde woman lay – the scary one who could fly. Her eyes were shut, and her chest was barely rising wi
th her breathing. Her body was limp, and her skin waxen.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Ari asked.

  “She says she has a broken neck.”

  Ari frowned. “Could she survive being Chosen?”

  Her father looked at her. “You would want to save her? She’s been following you.”

  That had been her stalker?

  “She tried to save us just now.”

  The duke crouched beside the woman.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” Ralia was at their side.

  “Why not?”

  “She’ll die.”

  “How do you know that?” Ari asked. “Humans usually make the transition.”

  “She’s different.”

  You idiot, Ari thought. Of course she’s different. Most humans can’t throw people around without touching them, and they certainly can’t fly.

  “Then she’s just going to die?” Something flickered in the duke’s eyes. Regret?

  “You do it,” Ralia said, her gaze intense on Ari.

  “Me?” Ari had never Chosen or Bitten anyone. She didn’t even know if she could – or, as a hybrid, what the outcome would be.

  “Ralia…” The duke’s voice was low, a warning.

  “Aria might be able to succeed.”

  “But it will hurt?” Ari asked, a little ashamed at the whiny note in her voice.

  Ralia flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Afraid of a little pain?”

  “I’ve been beaten black and blue today.”

  “Then add a few more bruises. She saved your life – are you willing to let her lose hers?”

  “But she can’t consent.” Consent had always been key to Choosing or Biting someone. Becoming immortal wasn’t a choice everyone would make, people had the right to make their own decision.

  “She’s dead if you don’t.”

  Her father stood, opening up the space next to the dying woman. “Do it.”

  Rolling up her sleeve, Ari sighed. “Someone needs to check on Sebastian.”

  Ralia nodded. “I’ll go.”

  Ari took the comatose human’s hand and bit down. She drank deeply, but couldn’t taste any difference in the woman’s blood. She was human.

  Her father’s hand settled briefly on her shoulder. “Enough. Give her your blood now.”

  Ari slashed her wrist – the left one this time – and placed it over the woman’s mouth, angling it so that the blood dripped inside. Crimson droplets trickled from the corners of her lips.

  “She’s not swallowing.”

  With a concern Ari rarely saw in him, her father bowed low over the woman. “Drink.”

  He massaged the human’s throat for a few moments. It wasn’t working, Ari thought, this savior of hers was going to die. She was about to pull away when cold lips locked over her wrist and the woman swallowed her blood in great tearing gulps.

  “That’s it,” Ari said. “Keep drinking.”

  Now, they only had to do this twice more, then wait three days.

  Easy.

  The only problem was, nothing about this situation had been simple so far.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “How do you feel?” Ari asked. She put the tray of silverware and plates out in the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

  Sebastian smiled and waved his spoon in the air. Atrocious table manners, but then, she didn’t like him because he knew how to use cutlery. Thankfully.

  “Almost as good as new.” He was reclining like a king in the large four-poster bed. Thick black curtains hung half-closed, blocking out the early morning sunlight. His bronze skin was still a little pale, but the bounce was back in his manner.

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Then why did you request pudding in bed?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “Where else would I want to eat pudding?”

  A laugh escaped her. Giving up, she climbed up onto the bed and he lifted an arm, so she could snuggle in next to him. “Sure you’re okay?”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Yes.”

  Ari wasn’t sure how much of it was due to her blood, but Sebastian had survived the trip back to the estate. It had been touch and go after that. Ralia had drawn as much of the silver out of his system as she could – which had involved a lot of knife work that Ari would prefer not to remember – after which they’d just waited. And waited. And day by day, he’d improved.

  According to her father, that much silver should have killed a were Sebastian’s age. She was glad his calculations had been proven incorrect.

  Sebastian ran his fingers over her braid. “How’s Castle?”

  “Strange, and I have no idea.”

  “Still making things move?”

  “Just a tad.”

  The last time Ari had gone to Castle’s room to check up on her, everything in the place had been levitating. There had also been minor earthquakes each day since the first blood transfer, all centering on the estate.

  Sebastian stroked a hand down her back, then leaned away to pop the spoon on the bedside table. “Did Lia fill you in?”

  “On?”

  “The Graced.”

  Ari nodded. “Apparently the damage that Monique and her – Mother? Sister? Aunt? – did to me forced my mind to heal itself. The only way it could do that was create a shield like you’ve got. So now my mind is hidden from those people and me knowing about them isn’t a danger.”

  Those people.

  The Graced.

  Even her father hadn’t known they existed, but it turned out he had a natural mental shield, and so it was safe for him to know about them, too. Well, as much as Ralia – Lia – had been willing to reveal.

  What she’d shared had been enough to scare Ari senseless. Those Graced had been afraid of her? Heck, she could run fast, and heal quickly, and had super hearing and all kinds of other wonderful abilities, but she couldn’t read minds, couldn’t move things without touching them or feel other peoples’ emotions. Those abilities were frightening. And dangerous.

  Ari could understand their need to hide, she did that herself every day, but she wasn’t about to murder innocent people in order to keep her secret. A little blackmail was nothing in comparison. However, she couldn’t hate them. She wanted to – oh, she wanted to ban every colored-eyed person from coming within a hundred feet of her – but Nick and Xave had been Graced, and she’d loved them more than their own people had.

  Their own people had targeted them for death.

  Worse, she’d spent all those years thinking it was something to do with Sebastian. In fact, he’d been the one responsible for their staying alive as long as they had. Somehow his will had kept the mind control at bay and Ari should have been grateful.

  She pressed her ear against his chest; the steady thump thump thump of his heart was comforting. She hadn’t wanted to lose him, and the black, puckered scars on his chest reminded her of how close she had come to that.

  “I’m…sorry I blamed you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “What?”

  A little louder. “I said I’m…sorry.”

  He pulled her on top of him, and tugged off her patch so he could look her in the eyes.

  “I thought I just heard you say—”

  She jabbed him with an elbow.

  “Ow!”

  “Don’t make me repeat it. It burns enough.”

  “Oh, don’t make you repeat the fact that you apologized after years of believing I was a child murderer?” The twinkle in his eyes faded, and he placed a gentle palm against her cheek. “I am sorry, too. That I left, that I wasn’t strong enough to stop them from hurting Nick and Layla. I never would have gone if I’d known that was what they were going to do. And I do blame myself for their deaths, even if you don’t anymore.”

  She pressed a kiss against his palm. “If I hadn’t been weak, hadn’t run…”

  “Then you would have died, too. There were so many of them, and they tied up any of the other weres wh
o would have tried to protect you. Plus, you were ten.”

  “But I’m weak. I couldn’t save Nick, I couldn’t save Xave—”

  He put a finger over her lips. “You saved me. You saved Castle.”

  “We don’t know about her yet.”

  “You’re a good person, Aria. Stubborn, pigheaded, obstinate…”

  “Those words all mean the same thing.”

  “Do they? Strange that.” He was smiling, and it made her heart beat triple time. He had a dimple! When did he get a dimple? It was sexy.

  Think about other things... He didn’t need to know she wanted to jump his bones. He was still recovering, and he wasn’t like her, so she had to be careful.

  “Anyway, what kind of a name is Castle? Do you think it’s a nickname?”

  “No idea. But you know what?” He placed a hand on the back of her neck, and gently tugged her down, so their lips were almost touching.

  “What?”

  “You talk too much.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I’m not dead.

  Naomi jerked upright and opened her eyes wide. She froze. She’d just sat up – but she had a broken neck, she shouldn’t be able to move.

  How long have I been asleep?

  Maybe she’d fallen into a coma for months, and her body had healed itself. Maybe she hadn’t had a broken neck after all.

  Looking around the room, she was startled to see that the furniture – very expensive furniture – was levitating. Quickly diving into her mind, she took several deep breaths, fighting for calm. Everything is okay. Everything is fine. You are fine.

  Opening her eyes again, she took stock of the now-grounded objects.

  The room was big enough to hold the entire apartment she’d rented when she moved to Skarva. She was in a wide bed with a beautiful woolen comforter, and there was a metal desk in the far-right corner, accompanied by a beautifully wrought chair. A small sofa was in the far left corner, near a closed door, and there was a chest at the foot of the bed. Two bedside tables rounded out the room.

  She had no idea where she was.