sanguineangels

by Various

  He slid past a guard on the landing, who whirled, his face pale, grabbing his gun at the ice-cold wind that snaked around him lightning-quick. Diego ignored him. He was already buckling to his knees, gasping for breath. Diego had found what he looked for in the man’s depraved mind. The secret hallway and room where they were holding his heart. His soul.

  Fangs dropped in punctuated anger as man after man collapsed to the ground. Some died of asphyxiation. Others died of aneurysms. Diego did not care. They all had a part in her abduction.

  He paused in the last hallway, tapping a man on the shoulder. When he turned, Diego silenced him, claiming his mind with a thrusting force. The man stilled, aware but unable to stop him, tilting to let Diego feed. Hunger raged through him, the red haze of death clouding Diego’s thoughts. The man’s heart pounded fear-laced adrenaline through his blood. Diego drank deeper. It would be so easy to take every drop. He deserved to die.

  Titania. Her beckoning name infiltrated through the killing frenzy. Diego stopped abruptly. The man crumpled to the ground unceremoniously, to wither and die from blood loss. He strode over the prone body, waving a hand at the concealed hallway door. It shattered apart at his command. Shouts were beginning to echo throughout the house. The fallen men were being discovered.

  A snarl lifted his lips as he single-mindedly moved through the angled corridor toward the lab where they had chained her. Like an animal. The door before him exploded without his stride breaking. The two men guarding the access room leaped from their chairs, reaching for guns.

  Diego paused in the shattered doorway and watched dispassionately as both men were tossed backward like children’s toys, slamming with paralyzing force against the wall. He stalked up to them and slit the throat of one with a long claw, then captured the gaze of the other.

  “You will die a horrible death. You dared harm the one I love.” Diego’s voice was unemotional. A glacial wind seemed to fill the room with amazing speed, seeping into the dying man’s skin. Immediately the man began to cough, to gasp for air. The entire time Diego held his gaze, letting the man know he was dying. And he could do nothing to stop it.

  The man’s gaze widened as air became short. He tried to claw at his throat, ripping at the shirt he wore. Nothing helped. Diego kept his gaze locked with dispassionate patience. It took mere moments for the man’s lips to turn blue and for his eyes to glaze over.

  Without warning, an auxiliary metal door clanged closed behind him, the lock snicking into place from an outside command. Diego looked over his shoulder and growled at the camera tucked in the room’s corner, letting his rage eclipse everything. The camera shattered, electrical sparks filling the room. Papers ignited.

  Diego dismissed the dying men on the floor, reaching for the metal door that Titania had seen. The lock gave way easily under his hand, and he pushed it inward. He was not prepared for the sight of her bound to the table. A snarl hardened his lips, the real anger he felt withheld. Freeing her first was paramount.

  He reached her side in an instant. The rage he felt at her condition only compounded his determination to make Tenorio pay for his actions against her. He touched each manacle and they cracked, smoldering. The state of her undress was deliberate, and whirling, he located two more cameras. They disintegrated instantly, his rage having yet another target. Sparks fell from the electrical wiring. Several sheets began to smoke, flames leaping to life.

  He yanked off his jacket to tenderly pull her into his arms and wrap her in it. “Cara,” he whispered, emotions so strong—anger, fear, pain—they made his voice hoarse.

  He cursed again when he saw the needle track on her arm. Her head lolled heavily on her neck. The beat of her heart staggered weakly within her chest. Realization happened quickly. He sniffed her arm and growled angrily. She moaned as he brought her higher in his arms. “You are safe, honey,” he told her. She didn’t respond, and his soul cried.

  Sounds were invading his anger, reaching him from the exterior hallway that he’d just traversed. Several men, with the heavy rush of adrenaline preceding them. He knew their thoughts. Knew Tenorio’s plans. Knew many of the men had already fantasized about the woman in his hold, only waiting for Tenorio to finish with her before he handed her over for the men’s enjoyment.

  Cold fury coiled around him as he bypassed the charging men unseen. The armed group was confused when they found the lab deserted, when they knew someone had been there just seconds before. Once clear, the door slammed behind Diego with an echoing death knell, and he locked it securely.

  They would suffer in death as they had wanted her to suffer in life.

  Diego scanned the floors overhead, found more men scattered through rooms. He took a few precious seconds to concentrate on one room in particular. The computer room, where all the research and security information was processed and stored. Screams echoed as explosion after explosion sounded, rocking the house to the foundation. Lights flickered and died. Fires erupted as if out of nowhere as he passed by furnishings. Drapes, carpeting, wood bookcases, it was all ablaze in a matter of seconds.

  The front door bowed out, then shattered into the front yard in a burst of wooden twigs. Diego rushed through it without a backward glance. Faintly, he heard shouts to the rear of the house, and a maliciously satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  Not five seconds later, fireballs mushroomed over the roof of the house in succession. Cars and storage tanks of fuel. Confusion reigned as men lost their way, unable to breathe in the thick, toxic smoke. Beams cracked and splintered within the house, pinning several. Not one would find his way to the clear air of the grounds.

  When the fire department unearthed the lab, they would find a slaughter. Six men roasted—rotisserie style. Panicked, the men had tried to fight their way out of the secured lab. The explosions had created long, surgical-sharp fingers of metal from the steel walls. Not a single man would escape their jagged ends in the lightless, smoke-filled interior.

  Diego buried his nose into Titania’s hair and drank in her scent. Slowly, the killing frenzy left him. He called her name, a repeated litany, as much to find her voice and bring her back to him as to calm his own furious rage. Chilling silence was his answer. Fear plagued him. Her heart was still working too hard, too slowly. Ice began to seep into his own blood.

  It took only a few moments to locate Houston hidden in the trees, his black Ferrari all but invisible in the night’s shadows. He found Laney’s scent coming from the car, thankful neither had been hurt.

  He landed on silent feet behind the car. Houston leaned against his fender with a worried frown digging into his expression. Relief was immediate until he saw Titania’s condition.

  Houston’s hand shook when he brushed away her hair. “What did they do to her?”

  “She has been drugged. She is not taking it well. I have to take her home.”

  “Home?” Houston met his gaze.

  “I have a cabin in Oregon. Meet us there when you are able.”

  Houston scraped a hand over a cheek. “I guess this means the tour is over.”

  “It has to be. Tenorio escaped. That was him in the Mercedes. I have to eliminate him. He will always hunt her. He will discover she escaped when no one else did.” As if to emphasize his point, several explosions rent the quiet night miles up the road, flames licking at the inky, smoke-filled sky.

  “And Brakka?”

  Diego curled Titania closer to his chest. “A pest. Nothing more.” He was less than concerned about him at the moment. Diego looked once more at the drawn, pale face of the woman in his arms. He could not meet her best friend’s gaze, knowing his next words could very well be his own death sentence. “Houston, she will need time to adjust.”

  Houston’s hand froze on the door, his head falling with a whoosh of air fleeing his lungs. “She isn’t sick, is she?”

  Diego’s voice was graveled with the agony of what must be done. “No. I have wanted to keep her safe since the beginning, and I failed. Th
e night she was attacked, I was not fast enough. I had no connection with her. I needed that to keep her safe.” Diego went for broke. “Once the process begins, it cannot be stopped.”

  Houston’s next words ached. “She could die.”

  “She will die if I do not complete it.” Diego matched him ache for ache. He knew the chances, the risks.

  Houston’s eyes blazed. “You better hope she is alive and well when we get there.”

  “If she is not, then killing me would be a relief in itself.” With that final acceptance, he launched into the air, coursing toward his home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Diego bled inside. His heart was crying. Titania was dying in his arms. It was well after midnight by the time he walked through his own front door. It closed with an audible slap, his anger and fear clawing through him incessantly.

  Her breathing was dangerously slow with her heart working but erratic. Tenorio had overdosed her. In her weakened state, it was having a catastrophic effect on her. Diego virulently cursed the man, but restrained the full power of his fury for their next meeting. Diego would find Tenorio, and then the man would know true terror, true power.

  Laying Titania on his bed, he focused his entire being on her survival. She had to live. It became a decree. Outraged by the condition of her clothing, he removed them from her body with loving hands, dressing her in one of his long silk shirts instead.

  He sank to the edge of the bed to pull her onto his lap, whispering to her ceaselessly. She remained unaware. He wound the silken weight of her hair through shaking fingers. Knowing what he must do was slowly killing him. Strength. When he needed it, he was trembling.

  “Forgive me, love.”

  Diego kissed her lips and damned himself. He drifted to her cheek and cursed what he was. He found the warmth of her neck and damned Brakka.

  Her pulse lay right beneath his lips, the repulsive odor of drugs mixed with her own scent. The drugs would not harm him, but without help, she would die. A doctor could do nothing for her now. Recriminations were useless with hell only a kiss away.

  He scraped his teeth over her pulse, encouraging his incisors to do this. His arms were tender, his hold loving when his teeth broke through her skin.

  Diego’s eyes drifted closed, her taste so rich to him. He whispered in his mind, wanting to reach her. Craving her like no other. Please, cara. Come back to me. I need you. Do not leave me alone again.

  He drank from her, listening with his entire will for any sign of things going wrong. Her heart labored more with the blood loss. He swept his tongue over his mark, healing the pinpricks.

  “Cara, listen to me. You must live.” He thrust his mind into hers, claiming her without hesitation. The drugs had already started to infiltrate her system, destroying her. He needed to complete the exchange. She needed to go through the transition to strip the toxins from her system. Without at least this chance, this one chance, if the drug remained in her system, she would be dead by the next rising.

  He cradled her head delicately in his palm. He sliced a wound in his chest, cleansed blood forming to drip at the lowest point. “Titania,” he groaned, pleaded, letting his life flow between her lips. She gagged and he changed position, working her throat until she convulsively swallowed.

  There was no hurry to his actions. Remorse no longer had a place within his heart. He had done this. He had no choice but to see it through to the end. And if she hated him for it, she could, but he would never leave her alone again. He could not.

  His actions had bound her to him irrevocably. If she died, he could only pray Houston took mercy and made his death quick.

  Titania swallowed more, and Diego curled protectively around her. His eyes were closed, his palm curved possessively against her throat, encouraging her sips, when the unaided wisp of her lips penetrated the wild tumble of his manic thoughts. He brushed strands of hair away from her features, seeing a faint pink start to color her cheeks. “Take me as I am, cara,” he whispered into her ear. He groaned when her mouth moved over him naturally.

  After several minutes of agonized torture, he slid a finger under her chin, tilting to meet his lips. He swept his tongue across her mouth, then delved. “Stay with me. Stay with me long enough to forgive me.” He continued to nuzzle her, waiting.

  Her lashes fluttered. “Diego?”

  Tentative joy constricted his chest. He dared to hope, even though he feared the coming hours until dawn. “Yes, love. You are safe.”

  “Where am I?” Her eyes were glassy and she squinted, trying to focus. “Why do I feel so weird?”

  “You are at my home.” He pressed his cheek to her head. “Tenorio drugged you. He did not know about your health. He overdosed you.”

  “I can’t move. I don’t feel like myself.” Her voice was thready, a touch of fear beginning to vibrate through her words. Chaos flooded her thoughts.

  “It was the drug. It will pass soon.”

  He watched her closely for the first signs. Her lashes fluttered closed once more, her breathing easier, spurred by the blood transfusion, no matter how unorthodox. It was her only hope, and he still prayed as he scrutinized her for every and any sign. He brushed a thumb across her brow when she frowned.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  His gaze widened. The last thing she needed to do was apologize. “For?”

  “Making you leave. Getting into trouble again.” A slow inhale proved she was improving, with the worst to come. “For everything.”

  “Cara.” It was torn from his chest. He had destroyed her life, her future. “I do not deserve you.” He rocked her until the first spasm struck.

  Muscles clenched without warning, tightened her frame within his arms, her body pulling in on itself. Her eyes snapped open, fear making their midnight depths their brightest yet. “What’s happening?”

  “Breathe, cara. It will pass. Breathe.”

  Her head jerked, and her gaze clung to his. The terror in those blue eyes knifed him through the heart. “Help me,” she cried.

  “I did, cara. The only way I knew how.”

  She moaned, her eyes closing once again as heat grabbed her in merciless shackles. Her skin burned to the touch now. She convulsed, wrapping her arms over her stomach. “Diego!”

  He cradled her closer as a violent tremor ripped through her. Her head whipped above her shoulders, her body arching as a scream split the quiet of the room. It was only the beginning as he watched her body fight the conversion with the blood he had given her.

  She slammed down into his hold, twisting and writhing in agony. Her eyes were open, unseeing, clouded with pain. He knew the pain she was going through and would have given anything to take back what he had done.

  The suffering, the agony, seemed endless as wave after wave trampled her. Her hands clawed at him, to push him away at turns. She trembled, and Diego felt as another contortion built. She stiffened, arched, bucked, a silent scream unheard even as it tore through his mind.

  A ripple shot up her body and he slid from the bed, kneeling on the ground. He held her carefully, tenderly as she expelled the wastes of her human body. The convulsions grew into violent heaves, and her body became soaked in sweat. Shock after shock wracked her trim figure until he feared she would shatter in his arms.

  As the last wave faded, her breathing evened out and he gusted a grateful moan. Shaking as much as she was, he lifted her limp and exhausted body to his chest and carried her to the shower. He rinsed her lovingly, erasing the proof of her ordeal from her skin, washing the dirt and sweat from her hair.

  It was very late by the time he had her dry and comfortable in bed. But a frown of worry still shadowed his brow.

  She had survived the conversion, but the reality of her existence would have to be faced when she awakened. If she woke. He was still daring untried territory, bringing her into his world. The phrase “anything can happen” was an understatement of gigantic proportions.

  He changed out of his soaked clo
thes to lay beside her, embracing her body to form into the curve of his. He lay in the darkness of the room, silently listening to her breathing, the beating of her heart as the minutes dragged by, until the weight of the morning sun made his arms and legs, then his body heavy. It was the longest night of his life.

  * * * *

  Titania sucked in air, disoriented. She didn’t dare move. The last memories she had were painful, wrenching agonies burning her insides until she had only wanted to die. She took several seconds to inspect her limbs and body. Nothing hurt. Nothing burned. She was alive! That was always a good way to wake up. Then what the hell happened? She could recall snatches of memory. Very little made sense.

  She continued to breathe, listening. She knew she wasn’t alone. Diego was there. How did she know that so quickly? So easily? She never woke up with him in the room. How long had she slept this time?

  Somewhere in her mind, she knew the sun had set. It was one of those facts of life. She just knew it had. Sounds and scents were beginning to infiltrate her waking discoveries. The intoxicating leather and spice that was Diego was prominent. She could make out several scented candles from different locations in the room. Her breathing dragged, hitched hard when she realized she could make them out individually. Her sense of smell had become unbelievably acute. Even the breathing seemed…different. Like it wasn’t necessary. But that wasn’t possible. She had to breathe, or else turn blue. It had to be the strangeness as she found her way through the fog of waking.

  She could find her heartbeat going strong. She swallowed hard. She could hear Diego’s heart clearly. Could hear the rush of blood through his body, through hers. Something was building in her, a…craving? But she wasn’t hungry. In fact, she had never felt less hungry for food in her life.

  She felt as Diego’s fingers sifted through her hair, a tender caress. Except his hand was shaking.

  “How are you feeling?” He continued lifting tender fingers through her hair.