He caught her and eased her down to a sitting position while he squatted next to her. “Look, I know we— It’ll be fine. We’re both not…” He sighed and raised his eyes to the stony ceiling. When had he turned into a jabbering fool who couldn’t get a coherent sentence out?
“Yeah, we’re both not,” she shot back, her voice full of hostility. She jerked her grungy shirt over her head and tossed it into the water.
Her reaction was forgotten as they both watched the material float, like they were waiting for it to burst into flames, or a creature from the deep to rise and gobble it down.
Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. He kept the chant up as she wrestled out of her pants and undergarments.
With a huff, she pushed off into the water.
“Wait!” He reached out, but his fingers only grasped air. Holding his breath, he waited for her to surface. One, two, three seconds went by. She didn’t reappear. “Shit.”
Without undressing, he jumped in. The water closed over his head and he registered two things: The water was warm and had a definite sulfur taint. A hot spring in the underworld. He aimed for the shadow flailing on the bottom. His hand closed around velvet skin and he jerked up, kicking at the same time. His feet scraped the floor; their heads popped above the water.
Melody sucked in a breath and shoved him away. “I was fine.” She feebly kicked to the side of the pool and clung to the rocky edge.
She was anything but fine. She had zero strength and a lot of attitude. Not what he was used to from her. She might be human, but she’d never been a wimp. How many other humans could nanny two lively vampire boys? And she’d always had a personality as bright as the sun he could never see.
His feet found purchase on the bottom, his chin cleared the surface. The water level would be over her head. “I just want to help, Melody.”
“How does a man of your station tolerate being around me?”
He gritted his teeth and gently laid his hands on her. She tensed her shoulders and glared at him over her shoulder. The reflection of the water in her eyes gave her an otherworldly appeal.
He’d said some hurtful things and she was still angry, despite being unconscious for weeks. His statement had been honest, for the best, but he hadn’t realized just how much she’d retain her resentment. Melody was smart and her reaction toward him was unexpected. She had to realize they were doomed before they started.
“Come, I’ll support you.” He carefully pried her off the edge. She was naked, and if he glanced down, he’d see every beautiful inch highlighted by the soft shine of the water.
She let herself go with a resigned sigh and relaxed into the water. He kept her close to the edge, for her own mental ease. Looking down, he instantly regretted not continuing to stare at the wall. He refused to let his gaze wander below her collarbone, but her lovely face unraveled him. Her lips had parted as she reveled in the soothing heat of the pool, her features soft. Her eyelids fluttered, eventually falling shut, and her hair fanned out around her like a spill of golden oil. His floating angel that didn’t fit into his dark world of death.
With a jerk she righted herself. “There’s no soap or anything, right? I could kill for some shampoo.”
He frowned at how she growled over the word “kill.” Was she always so bloodthirsty and he’d just written her off as an innocent human? When he’d had to help her collect her belongings and move to his team’s compound, he’d been in her room. Antlers and mounted fish and stuffed wildlife decorated the place, but she’d mentioned it all being from outings with her dad. Like the mounted fish, a trout so pretty she’d cried over filleting it so her dad had it preserved instead. She’d probably done her own share of hunting and fishing, but she hadn’t seemed the type to take a life of any kind lightly. She seemed like the kind who’d apologize profusely, thank Mother Nature and whatever deity she followed, and make sure she ate and utilized every part of the animal that she could.
“There’s no soap or shampoo of any kind,” he said quietly and waited for her reaction. Darkness knows, he didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t upset her.
A sound ripped from her that sounded like a snarl. She swam away from him to where her waterlogged shirt was starting to sink. Her body wiggled and squirmed as she kicked to keep her head above the surface. She wrung the fabric out as best she could and lobbed it back to dry land. He stayed close but kept his hands off her. A much harder task than he anticipated.
Doggy-paddling back to the edge, she planted her hands on the side. The muscles in her shoulders bunched and her elbows flared outward with the effort. Heat that had nothing to do with the water infused him. The side swells of her breasts were visible. Her tops had always hinted at the ample chest she must possess, but he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on it. Thankfully, she’d never been a provocative dresser as long as he’d known her. Understated tops and blue jeans had been her adorable style.
But if those were really her breasts…
His breath whooshed out as the top half of her body cleared the water. A shapely back tapered into a narrow waist. The flare of her lush hips disappeared under the surface.
She collapsed back into the water with a frustrated grunt. He darted toward her, but she’d already spun and slammed a hand against his chest as she resurfaced.
“Don’t touch me!”
He held his hands up but didn’t take a step back, even if his intuition was screaming at him that it’d be best. “I’m not touching you.”
Her upper lip curled. She glanced from his hands to hers against his shirt. Snatching her hand away, she kicked backward. Her back hit the edge of the pool and she looked around like a cornered beast.
He hadn’t meant to, but his gaze dipped down.
A low groan escaped. The hazy outline of her body was clear enough to show him the dusky tips of her nipples and the shadowed juncture of her thighs. He swallowed hard, glad he kept his pants on to restrain the erection he’d developed. He forced his gaze up before she caught him.
Too late.
The light in her eyes intensified. He glanced around to see if the pool had suddenly increased its light.
A faint rumble sounded, along with the splashes of her fighting to get out of the water.
He turned his attention back to help her and instantly regretted it. She’d hauled most of herself out and was wriggling over the lip to drag the rest of her body. Her bare legs kicked and jiggled her rounded ass cheeks. His shaft throbbed, protesting the containment of his tactical pants.
He lifted himself out of the water after her. No matter how hard he tried—he really did try—he couldn’t not look at her when she was bending and straightening and fighting to get into her underclothes. With a frustrated huff, she flung the garments back to the ground.
“Melody, what’s wrong? What can I help with?” Was it the trauma making her hostile, or Hypna’s power? Did she even feel it, or was Quution mistaken?
She rounded on him. He stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t her curvy body that halted him. The gleam in her eyes was still there, and it reminded him of a predatory sheen. Her lips seemed fuller, her features more savage.
“What’s wrong?” As she spoke, her lips moved in an exaggerated manner, like she was speaking around a mouthful. “What’s wrong is you. You sit for a while after I’ve experienced the worst nightmare of my life and expect that makes you privy to my thoughts and feelings. Guess what?” She was close enough to poke him in the chest. “You made it clear I wasn’t good enough for you before, that I’m never going to be good enough for a prime male like you.”
His mind was still whirling over her over-the-top reaction to what he’d said when her features changed yet again. Her cheekbones sharpened, her lips plush, her hair puffed like it’d suddenly gained extra body from the swim.
“You wouldn’t even stop shafting Zoey.” Her tone lowered, her voice thick.
He blinked at the reminder of the worst kept secret between him and his fellow teammate.
She’d lost her true mate and he was just lonely as fuck. For a while, he’d wanted more than sex between them, but she’d ditched him and Stryke had come along.
Melody sneered, her face ethereal and lovely and savage. “Did you think I didn’t know you were fucking her? How many others?”
“Zoey was just…” A friend. Hellfire, they’d been sad, pathetic friends with benefits and now she was bonded to a demon that might just become a buddy of his someday. “Others?” Words, male. Get some coherent words out! “There were no others, but there was no us, Melody. I’m a vampire, and watching someone I care for die is torture.” And when you learn what I’ve done, I didn’t want to see the admiration die yet again.
The rumble grew in volume. He looked around, but the rest of the cave was quiet. When he looked back at Melody, he went cold. “Y-you…you’re…”
Her eyes widened and the ferocity in her gaze dimmed. She glanced away, her eyelids fluttering.
“So hungry,” she whispered.
“We’ll get you some foo—”
“Shut up,” she yelled. Her arms shook like she was restraining herself. “You make it worse when you talk.”
He held up his arm. She twitched and half turned, then snapped back. Her lips were pulled back, and fucking hell, she had a small set of sharp fangs. Her chest heaved, and her fingers were spread and tipped with claws. She was changing. Physically, and if her actions were any indication, mentally. This was worse than he’d expected.
“Melody, we need to talk about Hypna’s power and what’s happening to you.”
A roar of rage echoed off the walls and she pounced. Her gaze empty, void. She’d lost whatever internal battle she’d waged.
He didn’t fight back. For several moments, he didn’t know what was happening. Searing pain tore through his chest, his skin getting shredded as she clambered up his body. Was she going for a vein? He had to help her.
He stumbled and fell backward. His head rammed the floor. Dazed, drunk with agony, he flopped uselessly. Melody was on him, ripping him apart. Wet warmth oozed all over his body. Was he bleeding out?
Move! But he couldn’t hurt her. He rolled his head to find her, his body convulsed with the will to move. Her jaw ground into him in a completely untrained method of drinking from him. He had to help her.
Managing to lift his arm, he patted her side. The purpose had been to knock her off, but he’d grown too weak. She paused, her jaws loosening a fraction. A growl echoed in the room.
Had that been her stomach?
Her suction tightened, and she continued her feast. A slow groan released from what air was left in his lungs. Agony. Melody had attacked him in a completely inhuman, unhinged way. His sweet, innocent Melody was drinking him dry. And he was powerless to stop her. She’d gotten the best of him, his little human.
He didn’t miss the lick of pride at the thought as darkness claimed him.
Chapter Four
Melody staggered around a corner, her hand over her mouth. If her body wasn’t so starved and ravaged, she would’ve collapsed to her knees and hurled every tasty morsel of Creed all over the dirt floor.
She’d killed him.
No. No. He was a vampire. His head had still been attached. Barely. Right?
She shook her head. No, he couldn’t be dead. She wasn’t a killer. She hunted and she fished, but she painstakingly prepped the meat and ate every last ounce. After her dad’s hunting accident, the few times she hunted by herself, she’d given away any extra meat.
But she’d drank Creed dry.
Oh god.
She fell with a sob. Horrendous sadness and self-pity swamped her.
What was wrong with her? Was this Hypna’s power they’d mentioned? How could her powers turn her into a monster?
Tears ran down her cheeks, their salty tang scenting the air. Since when could she smell a tear drop?
She cut off her sobs with a sniffle. The walls were skittering. She hadn’t been hallucinating, and she remembered her vampire friend Grace telling her about the scarabs that live in the underworld. Demon trashcans, she’d called them.
Brimstone. The gnarly scent of pure-bloods. Two had passed by not too long ago. The weaker and not much cleaner scent of second-tier demons, the servants of the purebreds. Some were even tied to one of the thirteen purebreds that made up the ruling Circle of the underworld. Except for Quution and his great purebred deception.
A sinister chuckle escaped her as she recalled what Creed had told her. Quution the second-tier pulling off the greatest prank of the underworld, tricking the Circle into accepting him as one of their own.
She let out a gusty exhale. What was she now? Did she have any humanity left when she’d attacked the male of her fantasies and drank his blood? If he survived, would he ever forgive her?
She hissed. Did she care? She was mighty!
And still hungry. Emptiness clawed at her insides. She forced her legs to keep moving, to carry her far away from everything.
Mighty my pale ass. Why had she thought such a thing? She’d lingered in that void and she should’ve stayed. What was she? Had Hypna’s powers done something to her? The question was what, and how permanent?
I’m okay just as I am. Except right now, she was a brutal creature who couldn’t stop herself from jumping Creed and tearing him apart, when he’d been helping her.
More steaming hot tears sprung up. She batted them away and hissed at the burn, then brushed more away. The pain took the focus off her hunger.
How could she still be famished after…? She shuddered. More tears burned down her face and she let them roll. The crazed obsession that had filled her after the bath was unlike anything she’d ever heard described. Single-minded intention to hurt him had proved impossible to beat back, but when the first drop of his blood had spilled, she’d wanted to feast.
She pushed forward through the caverns as if she could outrun the rage that had controlled her. He should’ve fought her off. In a battle between the two of them, she didn’t stand a chance.
Scratches from the walls had her jerking her head left and right as she wove through the caverns. She reeled around a corner, trying not to touch a wall when voices stopped her.
She sniffed. Brimstone. Rot. Straight up shit. Raw meat. Creed’s blood. All the scents she struggled to get accustomed to in the last few hours.
And when had sniffing her surroundings become normal?
She inhaled again. Richer scents of living beings tainted the air now.
Her stomach roared. Blood rushed through her veins, the sound rivaling the ocean in her head.
Voices reached her. Three males.
The throb in her gums resumed. Her forehead ached, and her fingertips tingled. She wanted nothing to do with these males.
She didn’t want to deal with anyone. Why did they have to impede her flight away from everyone?
Her upper lip curled in a snarl. Three shadows approached.
“Oi. What do we have here?” The one that spoke was actually shorter than her, but much wider. Horns protruded from all of their heads, and she doubted any of them could string the letters b-a-t-h together.
The other short one snickered. “Look at the tiny human. Come in time fer lunch, have ya?”
“I’ll be eating much more than lunch today, boys.” The third male pushed forward to tower over her.
Melody shook, the vibration running from her toes to her scalp and back down. Was she scared?
No.
Was she intimidated?
She narrowed her eyes on the group. Two of them were licking their lips, and none of them were looking at her face.
She glanced down at herself. Naked as the day she was birthed. And clean-ish, thanks to the deadly dip with Creed. Only his blood covered her.
Another male who thought she a useless, tiny human.
Males.
Who the hell needed them?
She glared at the big one, and she kept her gaze on his face. The unwieldy junk hanging fr
om his groin was certainly inhuman. The other two were already erect. Keeping her gags at bay required too much energy.
“Step back, lunkhead. I don’t need your bullshit right now.”
“Oi, she’s got some fire. I get to fuck her after you boys. I like sloppy thirds.”
Words so revolting, she wanted to gag. She turned her hard stare on him. “Do your human hosts wake up feeling like they need a bath in extra-strength bleach? You make me sick, you putrid, saggy, scrap of filth.”
Rage clouded his face. Had they expected her to cower? Dimly, a portion of her awareness reminded her that she never spoke like that. The rest of her told that part to suck it, these were demons and if ever there was a time, it was now. And it was satisfying. She could say more, spew insults for days. And it’d dispel the emotions plaguing her more effectively than stupid mantras that were as weak as she was.
She sucked in a breath but forced herself to stand strong. Whatever emotion fueled her boldness was her chance at saving herself from this situation. Her mouth twisted in a manic grin.
“What? Sloppy thirds not as fun when your meal bites back?”
She held her hands out, like she was going to attack. Running wasn’t an option. She had no idea where she was going, and she was human. Sort of.
Her fingertips pulsed, and the males’ gaze landed on them.
“What the fuck?” The big male stepped closer like he was inspecting her sharp nails. “Maybe we won’t kill you. After we fuck you a few times, we’ll take you to the Circle, show them our new toy.”
“I don’t get it,” the second round one said. “She smells human. Looks human.”
“You all should know,” she purred, “looks aren’t everything.”
The third one guffawed. “She talks big, but she’s an itty-bitty thing. Nearly worthless ’cept for one thing.” He swiveled his hips.
Vines spouted from the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Power coursed unhindered through her. She gave it free rein, telling herself it was for survival when part of her relished the flood of adrenaline and the zeal for impending violence. The males lunged.
Creed Page 3
