Provoked dp-5

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “I used to be in charge in the military. Here at home? Depends on the day.” Mason lurched to his feet.

  “I’m the good guy”—Kane swept his hand toward the two dead men—“they’re the bad, and we need to get going.”

  “Sure.” Mason leaned against the wall, his face pale, his shoulders down. “I’m confused.”

  He probably had a concussion. Amber pivoted to shield Mason. “You’ll be all right. We’ll get some help.” Even though Kane had killed two men, something in her whispered he wouldn’t hurt her. Just like a psycho fan wouldn’t hurt the object of his affection. Well, until he did. Shit.

  The odd tickle in the back of her head sprang to life.

  Seconds later, the man Kane had shot in the torso leapt up, arms encircling Kane’s chest and knocking him into the wall.

  Amber shrieked. How did the guy get up after being shot three times?

  Kane snarled. Fangs ripped down from his mouth. He blinked twice, and contacts fell from his eyes. Deep violet swirled with black as he gave a cry from hell, arms shooting up to break the guy’s hold, his head darting forward with a head butt. He impacted with the crunch of bones breaking.

  The other guy went down again.

  June cried out, “Devils. Oh my god. Devils.”

  The pain ebbed in Amber’s head, but her gaze remained on Kane’s fangs. He had metallic violet eyes. Reality took several long seconds to arrive. Could he be wearing some intricate costume? If so, why in the world would he do that? “You look like a vampire.”

  Irritation swirled through the odd shine of his eyes. “Of course I’m a vampire.” He dropped to one knee and flipped the unconscious man facedown. Quick motions had his knife plunging in the center of the neck before Kane sliced left and right.

  Decapitation sounded like fabric tearing. Who knew. Amber swayed, the blood deserting her head.

  Kane grunted at the last pull of the knife, and the guy’s head rolled toward the living room, thumping along the uneven floor. Blood spurted out on the way and left a trail of glistening red. The body relaxed in death.

  Amber gagged and stumbled back against the wall. Bile rose quickly, and she shoved the nausea down, her brain fuzzing.

  Without bothering to wipe off the blade, Kane rose and stalked toward the other fallen man. His movement was measured and sure, his flak boots clomping rhythmically with each deadly step. Blood dripped from the blade and dotted the floor with splatters.

  “No,” Amber whispered. Her knees trembled with the urge to run, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate.

  Kane leaned over and plunged the knife into the guy’s throat, sawing until the head shoved free with a squish of sound.

  Air whispered by Amber’s arms as Mason rushed by, syringe in hand. Panic fired her brain to life again. She reached out to stop him and missed. Jumping forward, the ex-soldier pushed the needle into Kane’s neck.

  Roaring, Kane reared up and flipped around. Mason flew into the side of the couch and dropped to the floor, inches away from the dead guy.

  Kane’s eyes morphed black through the violet. Fangs dropped lower than before, and rage cut into his hard face.

  Oh, Mother Earth. Amber gasped, her head jerking to the side. That was no costume.

  Growling, blood dripping from where it had sprayed across his jaw, he pried the syringe out of his neck. “What?” He staggered forward, his head rolling to the side.

  “Horse tranquilizer,” Amber whispered.

  The black of Kane’s eyes completely covered the violet. He dropped to his knees and dented the floor. The fangs retracted. His dark hair flew as he shook his head like a dog with a face full of water. “We need to . . . go.” Swaying, his eyes shut and he plunged face-first onto the wooden floor slabs.

  For a moment, nobody moved.

  Mason staggered to his feet. “June, go get four stakes and some rope. Run.”

  The ex-dentist nodded, grabbed her cane, and hobbled from the room.

  Amber ran a hand through her hair. The smell of blood and death threatened to suffocate her. “We can’t kill him. That’s not who we are.” Vampire or not, Kane was alive. And her family did not kill. The fact was even listed in the charter for their community.

  Mason rubbed a swelling bruise on his jaw, his eyes hard. “We’re not going to kill him. The sun is.”

  Wet and cold snow permeated his body before Kane’s mind cleared. They’d removed his coat. He opened his eyes to a cloudy sky. He lay on his back on the frozen ground, arms and legs stretched and secured tight to rusty posts. The wind whispered through evergreens and pines, spraying snow across his face. The sun lit the eastern sky with the golden hue of a western winter, its tendrils of light beginning to wander through the gray. The light crept closer to his booted feet.

  He shook his head and winced as barbells ripped behind his eyes. Good God. What had been in that syringe?

  Forcing his chilled hand into a fist, he yanked against the restraint. Nothing happened. Whatever they’d given him was still slugging through his veins. If his brothers could see him now, there’d be no living at headquarters. Ever again.

  Grimacing, he turned his head toward the main house. Several pairs of eyes stared out the window. “The sun doesn’t hurt me,” he croaked, not nearly loud enough for them to hear. At least they hadn’t plunged a wooden stake into his heart. Oh, it wouldn’t have killed him, but man, healing a heart took some time.

  A chill swept along his skin. The snow spread far, coating a decrepit wooden fence about a mile away. Sighing, he glanced at the sun visible through a row of bristlecone pines. At some point, the light would hit him. What would the humans do when nothing happened?

  A struggle sounded from the farmhouse porch. He turned his head again.

  Amber shoved against the ex-soldier, Kane’s coat in her hands. Her eyes sparked a deep black, and her cheeks had turned a lovely crimson. The soldier held her upper arms in his beefy hands.

  Kane let a low growl loose.

  Amber turned her head, eyes widening. “The sun is coming.” Kicking the soldier, she jumped off the porch, heading straight for Kane with his coat.

  He opened his mouth to stop her when she took a flying leap and landed full force on him, covering him with his overcoat.

  Her knee hit him squarely in the balls.

  “Holy fucking Christ.” He bent at the waist as pain shot down both his legs. Nausea swirled in his belly. A frightening numbness followed the pain. He opened his eyes and only saw dark fabric.

  “It’s okay.” Amber pressed down on his throat, frantically patting the coat around him. “I won’t let the sun get you, but you’re only covered to your knees. Will you burst into flames?”

  He coughed for air. “Get . . . off . . . my . . . windpipe.” His breath bounced off the material and warmed his face.

  She released him and tucked the wool around his head. “Sorry.”

  He’d laugh. Really, he’d laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation if his testicles weren’t on fire. And not in a good way. “Amber?” The coat muffled his voice.

  She stretched across him, keeping him covered. “It’ll be okay. Should we try to run for the house?”

  Enough. “Hold on, sweetheart.” With a growl, he yanked both arms up and in, using physics and his rapidly returning strength to rip his arms free. His shoulders protested, but the ropes gave. His hands gripped her thighs, hauling her into a sitting position as he sat up. The coat fell between them.

  Surprise widened her eyes as she straddled him. “Kane?”

  “The sun doesn’t hurt me.” As he spoke, the sun filtered down to warm their heads. He lifted an eyebrow, his groin feeling suddenly better with her perched on it.

  “Oh.” She frowned, thoughts scattering across her face. “I, ah, don’t understand.”

  She really didn’t. How was that possible? “You don’t know anything about vampires . . . or demons, do you?”

  “Um, no.” She gently pushed against his chest and attempted to
rise.

  He tightened his hold to keep her in place. “Stay.” Releasing one thigh, he grabbed the rope tied around his ankle and jerked it free, following suit with the other leg.

  The soldier edged toward them, a baseball bat in his hands.

  Amber shook her head. “Mason, now isn’t the time to hit people.”

  Kane stood in one swift motion and shoved Amber behind him. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Why didn’t you fry?” the soldier asked, his knuckles turning white around the bat handle.

  “Legends are bunk.” Kane stiffened as the sound of Amber’s teeth chattering filled the quiet morning. Half-turning, he slid his coat around her shoulders while keeping his gaze on Mason. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

  “You’re a vampire.” Mason shook his head, his fear scenting the day with old grass and sulfur.

  “Yes.” Kane scrubbed both hands down his face. “Vampires are just a different species from humans. We don’t take blood unless we need it in battle, we can’t turn you into one of us, and we mean you absolutely no harm.” Well, they took blood in sex, too. But Mason didn’t need to know that.

  “Another species?” Amber stepped even with him, her gaze thoughtful as she peered up. The coat covered her to her toes.

  “Yes. Different genetic composition.” Unease had Kane clearing his throat. One of their laws included keeping his people a secret from the humans—was he failing on this mission or what? “I’d appreciate it if you would make up a story for the rest of your group, Mason.”

  The soldier frowned and shook his head. “This is unbelievable.” He gestured with the bat toward the farmhouse. “Were the two guys you killed vampires?”

  “No. Demons, who are another species.” Kane was taking a huge risk in trusting the old soldier. “Bury them later today. The demon nation will leave you alone once I get Amber out of here.”

  “She’s not going anywhere.” Mason settled his stance.

  “The demons will keep coming until they get her.” Kane glanced down at the quiet woman. “They’ll kill you all and then her.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why do they want me?”

  How in the world could she not know who she was?

  “You have powers that hurt them, sweetheart.” Kane scratched his head. “Though I don’t know why you’re broadcasting your skills all of a sudden. Has anything changed in the last couple of weeks?”

  Amber shrugged, then paled. “Well, Grandma Hilde has a head concussion and is in the hospital.”

  The air whooshed out of Kane’s lungs. “You have a grandmother?” Holy hell.

  CHAPTER 6

  Amber clutched the armrest of the truck, her heart beating so hard she needed to throw up. “There’s no cell service this far out.”

  Kane flipped his phone shut. “No kidding.” He drove the truck at unsafe speeds, somehow keeping all four tires on the ground as he sped over ice and around corners. He had nice hands. Tapered, strong, and capable, they handled the steering wheel of the Suburban with ease. As the SUV whipped around dangerous curves over black ice, Amber reached for her seatbelt. His nice hands wouldn’t save her from crashing through the windshield if he hit a Ponderosa pine.

  He glanced her way. “How long has your grandmother been in the hospital?”

  “Just a few days.” Amber settled in the seat and forced her shoulders to relax in case they crashed. “One of the horses got antsy and kicked her in the head.”

  “Ah. Any other relatives? Do you have a mother or father?”

  “No. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was a baby—some weird cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.” Kane turned his attention back to the road just in time to slam on the brakes, flip around a corner, and punch the accelerator. The rear of the SUV fishtailed before sailing straight. “Is your grandmother gifted, too?”

  Amber dug her nails into the armrest, stiffening in her seat. “Gifted?” Psycho Bend was around the corner. “You need to slow down.” If he didn’t, no way would they make it around the hill.

  “I’m fine. Years of defensive driving training.” Kane ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, gifted. You sensed the demons earlier, didn’t you?”

  Amber sighed. “If you mean my head wanted to explode in pain, then yeah, I sensed them.” She retracted her nails from the leather and clasped her hands in her lap. Once the pain receded, her brain had been working overtime. “This is so confusing.”

  Kane nodded. “I’m figuring your grandmother knows concealing spells—something probably handed down through your family. That’s the only conclusion I can come up with.”

  That was too unbelievable. Amber took a deep breath. “Grandma Hilde performs both morning and evening prayers . . . more like chants.” Amber had promised she’d continue the tradition if anything ever happened to her grandmother, but she’d been so busy lately, she’d shrugged them off.

  “Chants?” Kane maneuvered around Psycho Bend without a hitch. “In Gaelic?”

  “No. Just a series of sounds . . . almost like humming an old song without words.” While there had to be some sort of logical explanation for everything, there was no doubt Kane had fangs. Real vampire fangs. Maybe the two guys sent to kidnap her had been demons. And if demons existed, maybe so did destroyers.

  If somehow she had a gift, and it had been hidden since her grandma had taken ill, then the chants had to have been important. “I’m in the dark here, not clueless.” She said the words for herself as much as for Kane.

  “Chants in song form without words. Very interesting.” He took a deep breath. “Do a chant. Now.”

  “No.” The response came naturally, easily. “Do you boss everyone around, Kane?”

  “Yes.” The calm inflection in his deep voice didn’t change. “When it comes to experiments, medicine, and science, I do tend to give orders. I apologize.” His smile reached his odd violet eyes. He hadn’t bothered to put the colored contacts back in. “Would you please do me the honor of performing one of your grandmother’s chants?”

  Amber’s lips twitched. “Do all vampires have charm, or is it just you?”

  Surprise filled those eyes as he glanced at her. “Nobody has accused me of having charm. Ever.”

  What a load of baloney. “I watched a movie once where the vampires were charming and handsome because they were the ultimate predators. You know, they drew in prey and then . . . bammo.”

  Kane barked out a laugh. “Bammo?”

  “Yeah.” Amber shifted in her seat, heat climbing into her face. “Bammo. They sucked the poor humans dry.”

  “Sunshine, I promise you, I’ve never sucked a human dry.” His voice lowered just enough to cause a fluttering in her lower belly. “Now, how about a quick chant?”

  “Why?” Could she trust him? The guy had fangs, for goodness’ sake.

  “Good question.”

  The approval in his voice should not cause such warmth in her belly. “Thanks.”

  “Most immortal species can sense other species as well as enhanced humans. You’re an enhanced human, and you’re broadcasting strong enough to bring wolf shifter scouts from miles away to check you out. That’s how we found you. I want to see if your chant shields you from detection.”

  “Wolf shifters? Like people who turn into wolves?” Where had reality gone to? Maybe she was in the hospital with Grandma.

  “Sure. Several of my friends can turn into animals.”

  Amber shook her head, searching for calm. “What kinds of animals?”

  “Most kinds. Shifters have three main classifications: feline, canine, or multis, who can turn into anything except felines or canines.”

  She tilted her head to study him, her mind spinning. He couldn’t be serious. “You really are saying that shifters live among us.”

  “Yes. You have my word.”

  Wow. Not only was that incredible, it was awesome. Her mind ran through various possible scenarios. What would a person look like who could cha
nge into a wolf? Had she ever met a shifter and not known it? “Good God. Have you ever seen a jackalope?”

  He laughed. “Of course not. Jackrabbit and antelope mixture? That’s a Pacific Northwest joke. No such thing.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Her mind spun with the new knowledge. “Man, I want to see a jackalope.”

  “There’s no such thing in the immortal world, sweetheart.”

  She wasn’t so sure. A second ago she hadn’t thought wolf shifters existed. “So, immortal? You guys can’t die?”

  “All species can die. Some of us are just harder to kill. You have to behead a vampire, otherwise, we can repair ourselves. And we only need your blood in extreme cases of battle . . . or well, sometimes sex.”

  Amber swallowed hard. Okay. Taking blood during sex was gross. Definitely gross. The butterflies in her stomach were from nausea, not interest. No way. She was not interested in the sexy-as-hell vampire driving like a capable stunt driver. “So you take blood. What happens if you run out of blood?”

  “We basically go brain dead. So we try to never run out of blood.” He flashed a grin.

  That grin was beyond sexy. Concentrate. She needed to concentrate. “You say I’m enhanced. Some sort of demon destroyer. Am I immortal?” Now that would be cool.

  “No.”

  “That sucks.”

  “You could always mate a vampire, shifter, witch, or demon.” Kane sped through the entrance to downtown. “Then your human chromosomal pairs would increase until you were immortal.”

  “I am so far down the rabbit hole.” Much better to concentrate on the possibility of different species on earth than the word mate.

  “The chant?” While he phrased it as a question, the tinge of a command echoed in the low tone.

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and centered her thoughts.

  Peace lowered her shoulders.

  Calm stilled her movements.

  The tune rose easily to her lips, soft and sure, the melody without words.

  Humming through all five verses, she opened her eyes as Kane pulled into the parking lot for the hospital. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she finished the last note, pitching her voice just high enough to hit it.