by Terry Spear
“Sorry,” he replied, not sounding in the least bit apologetic.
He hadn’t dragged her from her side of the mattress to hug her against his chest. Not like he’d wanted to. She had come to him, and what was he supposed to do? Push her away? The fact he had his arm around her was only because it was more comfortable for him that way.
He rubbed his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind. Well, maybe he did pull her against his chest later when she was having another nightmare.
Hell, he’d stretched out to rest his weary back and make sure she didn’t wake alone in a strange room. He couldn’t help that she’d only quieted in his arms.
She glanced at his robe that had parted, exposing a naked thigh.
He smiled at her shocked look—considering how she’d danced so hotly in his arms last night—pulled his robe closed and left the bed. Then his expression grew somber. “Do you remember what happened last night?”
“I—I asked for your help. I—I didn’t expect this.” A deep frown materialized.
She thought he’d brought her home to seduce her? He would have done a lot more than held the wench in his hard embrace if that had been the case.
“Despite what the situation here might appear like, you’d lost a good deal of blood last night and collapsed in a faint in the dance club’s lounge, then needed blood.”
“Blood,” she said, reaching for the back of her head.
He pointed to her neck. “A vampire bit you.”
“No,” she said with a muffled grown. “He struck me on the back of the head also.”
Frowning, Atreides drew close and touched her head and felt the dried blood and a lump. “Sweet Jesus.” Instantly his blood burned with rage. The beast could have killed her. He examined the injury more carefully but was glad to see she wouldn’t need any stitches. “None of us had seen your injury.” Which had to do with how thick her hair was and that the blood had already coagulated. But he still faulted himself for not discovering that she’d been injured further. No wonder she’d been so out of it. She no doubt had suffered a mild concussion.
“We assumed he’d just drained you of too much blood.” He let out his breath. “I take it you didn’t see him,” he said more harshly than he’d intended. He couldn’t get his anger under control, seeing a red haze, wanting to kill the bastard who could bring hunters in the region down on all of them—not knowing who had done this to the huntress, and not caring. Though he thought from the pile of ashes left behind, she had killed the vampire.
Any vampire would be suspect though, who had injured her, if they couldn’t prove the ashes belonged to her attacker. Any could be murdered in the name of protecting their huntresses.
“I saw a wolf.”
“A wolf?” he asked.
“I-I thought I’d hit something on the road with my car. I stopped to see if I could help. When I couldn’t find anything, I turned around and found a wolf in front of my car.
"He was a wolf? The vampire was a wolf?"
“I thought at first he could be a real wolf, a wolfdog, or I don't know. Then I worried he was a vampire. He wouldn’t let me get near my car, and I finally decided to walk back to the club and ask for your help.”
Damnation. The vampire had been the worst kind of renegade, taunting and stalking its intended victim. But not killing—instead, he would terrorize her until he tired of the game. Then he would finish her off. Atreides had seen it before, dozens of times over the years—a vampire like any serial killer whose only reason for living was to kill again.
Like the one who had killed the huntress Tezra’s parents.
He had to make sure the vampire was dead, and another hadn’t been involved in the attack on her.
Atreides sat down hard on the chair next to the bed and took the huntress’s hand. Rubbing her cold fingers, he asked, “Do you remember anything else about him? About his biting you?”
“The wolf followed me. Then a hand grabbed my neck. Before I blacked out, he said he was going to take his fill of me, that I wouldn’t make it to safety, or something like that.”
Just as Atreides expected. He would warn her what he intended to do first and follow through. It wouldn’t be the last time either, Atreides was certain, if he was still alive.
“Did you see him?”
“Blue eyes that turned black. A cruel, dark smile.” She took a deep breath, steadily looking into Atreides’s eyes. “The attack wasn’t random.”
“He targeted you?”
She closed her eyes briefly, then studied Atreides. “Yes.”
“Is he on your list?”
She shook her head. “But I’m on his.”
He cursed under his breath. “We found clothes and ashes where your blood was also discovered on the road where he must have attacked you. Could you have killed him?”
“I…I don’t remember.”
He would have to discover who he was pronto. “Would you recognize him as a wolf again, if there were two of them and one was running in the form of a wolf?” He had to stop the bastard before he put more of their kind at risk. In the meantime, he had to ensure her own people protected her.
“I think so.”
"But you killed him, and his clothes were left behind." Something didn't add up.
"I killed him," she said.
"You don't remember killing him? You must have—well, I'm not sure. You didn't have wrist daggers on for close combat. You were armed only with your sword. The good thing is if you killed him, you couldn't have been turned." At least that was the good news for her.
She looked confused, like she was trying to recall anything more about what had happened, but she wasn’t coming up with anything.
He patted her hand. “I’ll get breakfast. After you’ve rested a couple of days, you can go home.”
“I live at Rivercrest Apartments. I don’t have to inconvenience you any further.”
“Who lives with you?”
She frowned. “No one, but it doesn’t matter. I feel well enough to fend for myself.”
Huntresses often didn’t live alone. Exceptions existed, of course, but they often shared a place together to protect themselves if a rogue learned he was on one of the huntress’s terminal list.
“No. If he comes after you again, you should have hunter protection. Not only that, after being unconscious for a time, you had to have had a mild concussion. You need someone to watch over you.”
The most disturbing look crossed her face, but her reaction quickly passed, and he wondered then what was going on with the huntress.
“I’ll get hold of some hunters after you drop me off at my place and…what about my car?” Tears misted her eyes, and she lay back against the pillow.
“Gone. Colt and Renault looked for it for several hours, but they couldn’t find any sign of it.”
“Would the vampire have taken it?”
“Maybe. Or someone else might have who found it abandoned on the road. If they knew how to start a car without keys…”
She gave a ladylike snort. “The keys were in the ignition.”
He quirked a brow.
She scowled back. “I left the door open to give me more light while I searched for a body. I didn’t walk very far from the car, and there wasn’t a soul on the road. I certainly didn’t expect to see a wolf guarding the car when I turned around.”
“Renault notified the police that your car was missing, but he didn’t know your last name or your tag number.” When she didn’t reveal anything further about herself, he tensed. “Sorry, I know this has been a traumatic experience for you and—”
“You can take me back to my place, now. I appreciate all your concern but—”
“Damn it, woman. You’re not going anywhere but home to your family. And I won’t hear another word on it.” He rose from the chair, expecting an outburst in response to his.
Instead, her eyes filled with fresh tears again.
“All right, listen. After you eat, you’ll feel b
etter. Then we’ll talk.” The woman would see it his way or else. “Eggs, hash browns, sausage links, and toast all right?”
She nodded, but her expression remained mutinous.
“I’ll be right back.” And he would have some more questions for the huntress. This time he would know the reason she went to the dance club, unarmed, alone, and looking for something other than a drink and to dance with a vampire. To speak with Twilight?
What the hell was that all about anyway?
Chapter 6
Selena shoved the comforter aside, intending to get dressed. She was ready to leave this place, though she had no idea where she was.
She glanced at the slinky nightgown she was wearing and wondered whose it was. One of Atreides’s vampiress girlfriend’s? Probably the one who got in her face at the dance club and planned to wring her neck before Atreides interceded on Selena’s behalf. She wondered if the woman knew he had loaned the gown to a huntress for the night. The woman would probably rip out his heart, or Selena’s, if she knew. And burn the gown afterward.
Glancing around the room, Selena looked for her dress. There was no sign of it or her sword, and she let out her breath in exasperation.
She heard someone coming and she scampered back under the covers and yanked the blue comforter under her chin.
Instead of Atreides returning with the tray of food, a kindly woman in her forties did. Cheerfully plump, she hurried in, her blond hair swept up on top of her head in an elegant fashion and her green eyes bright with intrigue. She greeted Selena. “I’m glad to see you sitting up, dear. Atreides wished me to bring you something to eat right away, and…” Her mouth twitched in a smile.
“He said you might be concerned about your clothes. I’m washing them. But I’ll…I’ll find something for you to throw on over my nightie. He wasn’t pleased that it was so… revealing. In a pinch late last night, I didn’t have anything else. I think he didn’t like that Jacques was watching over you last night and saw you like that.” The woman winked. “I’m Catherine. I’ve worked for Atreides since he was little. I’m his housekeeper, cook, you name it.”
A vampiress. Selena had thought the woman was a blood bond since she hadn’t shown any animosity toward her.
But then she thought back to the woman’s comments. Despite that Selena was a huntress, she thought that Atreides didn’t mind seeing her in something so revealing. Selena was as confused about the way he viewed her, and she suspected he felt the same way about her. “Thanks, Catherine. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“He’s a Leo, you know.” Catherine set the tray up and hovered over Selena. Her eyes sparkled with effervescence. “The lion.”
“My father is a Leo. He’s bossy. But then most hunters are.”
“Right. And interfering.”
Yep. Her father wouldn’t let Selena do what she wanted to do. Being a huntress was in her blood. That was the only role she was supposed to play.
“Intolerant.” Catherine gave another winsome smile and folded her arms.
Yeah, that was her father too. He couldn’t tolerate her for seeing things differently from the League views.
“Pompous.”
That described most hunters.
“Patronizing.” Catherine glanced back at the doorway, and Selena wondered if she sensed Atreides was coming.
Selena hadn’t sensed anything, but then she was too busy scarfing down the spicy cheese omelet. “This is really good.”
“Thank you.” Catherine studied Selena again and said, “But that’s just the dark side of a Leo’s personality. He’s also extremely faithful and loving.”
Yeah, her dad was that with her mother. And if Selena had been normal, he probably would have been more loving toward her too. As it was, her sister Rosa was the light of his eye.
“And enthusiastic. Once he gets an idea in mind, he’s hell bent on seeing it through with great enthusiasm.”
Selena nodded.
“And warmhearted.”
Her father was with her mother, yes. But not with Selena.
“Oh, and generous. He’s always helping others in need.”
Selena looked up at the woman. The woman was talking about Atreides, not her father. Yes, she could see that he was like that, taking care of a huntress he wanted no part of.
“And broadminded.”
“That’s the opposite of intolerant.”
“Ah, yes, true. But at times he’s extremely broadminded and at others, extremely intolerant.” Catherine sighed deeply. “So what sign are you, dear?”
“An Aquarius.”
“Honest and loyal. Good.” Catherine glanced over her shoulder, then again faced Selena. “I’ll be right back with a T-shirt.”
Then she vanished.
The woman’s sudden disappearing act reminded her of the shapeshifting vampire who’d bitten her, making her skin crawl.
Just as Selena finished a glass of milk, Catherine was standing beside the bed again. “Here we are, dear. Are you ready to slip this on?”
Catherine’s face wavered and Selena shut her eyes to still the wave of dizziness sweeping through her brain. Selena had experienced the same thing when she’d been bitten.
“Here, I’ll take the tray.”
Selena opened her eyes, but only halfway, and she felt horribly groggy. She tried to touch the back of her head but reached only to her forehead.
“She’s not properly covered yet,” Atreides said, his voice dark and disturbing.
The room seemed to grow dim, and she heard his voice and thought he stood near, but she couldn’t see him for the lack of light. Hadn’t it been daylight? Morning?
“Help me, will you, my lord? The huntress’s arms have become like lead. It’s like dressing the rubbery arms of a babe. And I should know. I used to dress you.”
He snorted.
Selena felt her arms lifted in the air, but she couldn’t see what was happening, only felt the T-shirt slide down her arms, the soft, spring-fresh material brushing over her nose and cheeks, then slipping over her breasts. She felt warmer, but she wasn’t sure if it was the T-shirt or something else, because the warmth seemed to radiate from inside out.
“Why did you go to the club?” Atreides asked.
Selena stared at the darkness where his face should have been.
“Dear, you went to the club to…find someone?” Catherine asked, her voice softness to Atreides’s hardness.
“Twilight?” Atreides asked. “Who is your sister?”
“What’s your name, dear?” Catherine’s hand touched Selena’s and stroked softly.
Selena knew it wasn’t Atreides’s. His hands were big, strong, gripped like a vice, and there was nothing gentle about them. Compelling, sexy, yes, but not soothing.
“Selena, what’s your last name, dear?”
Selena could feel the tension in the air. She sensed her father glowered at her while her mother pitied her.
“I—I’m sorry I can’t be like what you want me to be. I—I tried. You know I did.”
Everyone was silent and she laid her head back against the pillow, craving sleep, desiring to lock away the pain of her existence. No hunter would ever take her as a mate. Not unless she could learn to be more like the rest of them. Not have a mind of her own. Hunters were family oriented. The desire to be part of a family was in their blood. Wouldn’t you know that part of her was perfectly normal?
“What can’t you be like?” her father asked.
Selena frowned. Rub it in. Make me tell you a hundred times why I can’t do it. And explain the reasoning when I don’t know myself!
“Selena, tell us your last name.”
She turned her head toward the female voice. Why wouldn’t her mother know her name?
“Why?”
“You’ve hit your head and you—we want to make sure you remember it.”
Oh. The darkness swept through her, and she smelled the cool mist. He was coming for her, the vampire in the shape of
a wolf, his amber eyes glowing in the dark, cold, detached, predatory. His growl was low and menacing and forced her skin to tingle with dread.
“Selena…”
“How much did you give her? It’s not working. Her mind’s too muddled,” the man growled.
“Dear, who’s on your terminal list?”
Selena looked in the direction of the woman. “Terminal list,” she whispered. She didn’t have a terminal list. Her mother would know that. Who was questioning her?
His hot breath was at her neck, his hand gripping her with determination. “I will have my fill of you.”
She shuddered, but she wanted to strike back. She’d been taught to fight the rogues, and she was damned good at her job—with or without hunter backup. She’d fought her fellow hunters in mock battles. But something had stirred in her other than panic when the creature had seized her neck. As soon as he’d grabbed her throat, she wished she’d had a wrist knife, not her sword, any better weapon to fight back. But still, she’d managed to cut the bastard. He’d cried out. She smiled.
Then some vague memory stirred. Something of the dark and distant past. Something buried in her memories for all time.
“Her heart is racing twice as fast, my lord,” the woman whispered.
“What frightens you?” the man asked.
Selena pushed away the cover that confined her. He wouldn’t hold her down. He wouldn’t take her blood. She would kill him first. She wanted to. If…if she could reach her sword. She’d… she’d dropped it.
Reaching for her waist, she tried to get hold of the hilt of her sword, not the blade this time.
“What is she doing?” the woman again whispered.
“Trying to draw her sword.”
“To kill us?”
“The vampire who attacked her, I imagine.” The man moved closer and touched her neck.
Selena struck out with her fist and connected with flesh. Pain coursed through her knuckles with the impact of bone against her curled-up fist, and she cried out.
The man cursed under his breath and grabbed her wrists. She knew it was his and not the woman’s because they were large and vice-like and kept her hands pinned beside her head. Trying to kick, she discovered her feet were tangled in something, and she couldn’t get them free.
