Blood Enchantment

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “Really?” she asks. The fact that she's married to another man, though he's gone, doesn't stop how important their coming together is.

  Scott nods solemnly. He grabs her hand and unfolds it over his chest.

  Their heartbeats sync.

  “Feel that?” he asks.

  She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of their bodies’ recognition of the other.

  He must see the agreement on her face and sense it at the soul level, because that's how they're bound.

  “This isn't just sex—though that's going to be mind-blowing.”

  Julia snorts softly. “Sort of arrogant.”

  He smiles, but then his eyes grow serious, beautiful brown darkening to jet black. “Not at all. It's about your protection. The Combatant in me can't stop thinking about that. The man loves you, the Singer wants you at his side, and the Combatant wants you to live.”

  Pretty tall order. “What about the demon spore?” Julia asks.

  Scott nods. “What we do next can't hurt. Maybe our union will wipe that fucker out.” His teeth clench.

  “Maybe,” Julia replies wistfully.

  He tugs at her hand, his dark gaze searching her eyes, forcing her to believe his words through sheer determination, though she feels the echo of it in their emotional tether. “Definitely. Believe, Julia. Reach for the stars, and maybe—just maybe—you'll touch them.”

  She closes her eyes, contemplating hope.

  When Julia feels the soft press of his lips on hers, she yields to his hold. Scott's a huge man, and he uses every solid hard inch of himself to wrap around her.

  Julia feels protected—and cherished.

  The room feels like a womb of silence. The battle she imagines happening above them fades, and memories of Jason's sacrifice lessen. Julia commits to the inevitable—her destiny.

  *

  Scott

  Scott stares down at Julia. Golden-red hair scatters like a glittering fan across the stiff pillow of their bed. Large whiskey-colored eyes stare up at him while her heart floods a full gaze. Scott sees it all in those depths. Trust. Hope. Desire for him.

  She's finally mine.

  Scott wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly, mindful of how tiny and fragile she feels within his embrace.

  They've had every awkward conversation possible. Caldwell's death, the unlucky bastard. Her virginity. The possibility of that fucking demonic doing God knows what above. The spore that remains from the wound she received in Region Two.

  But the most important thing is making their bond permanent. Unbreakable.

  And like he told her, the Combatant part of his dual nature can't relax until that's accomplished. The male inside him has wanted her from the instant their hands accidentally brushed, and he was helplessly swept into the tide of what they were meant to be for each other, suffering through the torture of Caldwell’s indecision. The irony of the soul-meld isn't lost on Scott. He was the poorest candidate of anyone in this realm to have had this bestowed on him. He's more than rough around the edges. Julia's compassionate and soft.

  She chases Scott's thoughts with her words.

  “I'm ready.”

  He believes her. The conviction stands in their shining connection and the trust in her eyes.

  Scott tucks his palms underneath her, arranging Julia more solidly beneath him, and gently pushes her long hair out from beneath her body. “There,” he says.

  A deep-pink blush spreads across her face as he surveys every bit of her naked body. She's breathtaking—frail yet strong, gorgeous yet unaware of her beauty. It's an intoxicating mix.

  And there's no hiding what the sight of Julia does to him—her proximity.

  “You're just looking,” she comments shyly.

  Scott gives a slow, considering nod. “Let me. I'm not going to just pounce on you.”

  The color on her cheekbones deepens.

  He gives her a quick kiss, feathering his thumb over the heated skin of her face. “I will pounce if you say the word.” He arches his eyebrows, feeling his smirk edging his lips.

  Julia smacks his bicep, and her breasts jiggle deliciously. Scott hardens painfully and cages her in tightly, their chests mashed together.

  Julia's heart thunders against his. “No pouncing,” she manages. Then blows him away with, “But I want you sooner rather than later.”

  His surprise must show because she laughs.

  He eats the sound with his mouth, tasting her with his tongue. Softly, they explore each other's mouths, and his hold loosens enough to let his hands rove her body.

  She's so small but curved in all the right places. He nuzzles at her neck, burying his nose into the sweet spot between her ear and collarbone. Her soft sigh is better than all the yeses in the world.

  Scott moves lower. He hovers above her while moving backward as he plants soft kisses on her silky skin. When Scott reaches her breast, he slowly massages the pliant flesh, forcing the soft pink nipple up. The swollen bud hardens as he watches.

  His eyes meet hers. Julia's face is flushed, her eyelids hood, lips parted. Her breathing is heavy and deep.

  This is where he wants his soul-meld: breathless with anticipation.

  Scott is acutely aware of his painful dick and his need to pleasure Julia as he lowers his head, softly bathing her nipple with his tongue. Taking the small nub into his mouth, he swirls his tongue around the base, and it hardens more. Scott nips and sucks at her, and Julia arches against him, gripping his shoulders.

  “Scott,” she moans.

  He palms her other breast.

  She pants, and it's music to his ears.

  He rolls his face between her breasts, covering the left mound completely. “Yes?” he says in a low voice, continuing to kiss the side of her breast.

  “I like it.”

  He smiles to himself. “I know.” He pushes the mounds together and moves between the hills of her breasts, kissing, sucking, and lightly biting her nipples.

  “Please,” Julia says in a thready voice.

  Not yet. “Let me take my time. We've waited long enough, my queen. A few more minutes won't matter.”

  Her eyes widen, but the look of surprise fades and is replaced with lust when his hands trail from her breasts and float over her flat stomach to part her thighs. His eyes never leave hers, gaging her reaction.

  Julia tenses.

  Scott stills.

  She bites her lip, but releases it with a pop when his hand covers her mound.

  The tip of his thumb sinks between her outer folds. She's so wet,

  Scott groans involuntarily, his cock jumping in anticipation. Wait. It's her first time, the circumstances suck, and she's counting on you.

  His lips turn up. No pressure.

  He throbs, and with a rough exhale of self-temperance, he uses her wetness, flicking the slick little hood back and skimming his short nail over her clit.

  “Ah!” she groans loudly. “That feels so good, Scott. Don't stop…”

  “Not planning on it.”

  Her fingers grab his hair when his face is inches away from a place he's wanted to be for over a year. Julia's all-woman—sweet, salty, and perfect.

  His.

  “I don't know—” she says in an uncertain voice, her fingertips faltering on his head.

  “I do.” Scott buries his face between her slick folds, his thumb keeping the rhythm on the little bundle of nerves.

  Julia throws her head back, sounding as though she's hyperventilating.

  Scott is intense. He's no different when it comes to sex. And this is his soul-meld.

  Her emotions wash over him in a flood. Her arousal is like his own, but different—and varied. Scott senses what she likes and does that, avoiding whatever makes her uncomfortable. He’s surprised by how much she likes him to take charge. He grips the globes of her ass, yanking her hips against his seeking lips and tongue.

  Julia groans loudly, widening her legs to give him better access.

  He r
eads the signals of her body like a book, digging deeper, tonguing her entrance as he presses hard at the center of her clit.

  Julia gasps, her hands seizing his hair painfully.

  Scott rolls his gaze to hers. Her eyes are frantic, tits swollen, and legs spread. The beautiful pink folds of her are at his mouth while his forearm holds her hips pinned against his seeking mouth. He gives one deep press of his thumb in her hot, pulsating flesh.

  Julia shatters, throwing her head backward. Her walls grab and release his tongue as he keeps the penetration steady. When she finally comes down, Scott is painfully erect. He breathes through the urge to take her hard, as he wants to.

  He felt her barrier. Scott doesn't fool himself; he might have given her a rockinʼ orgasm, but the first time will hurt.

  Scott works his way back up her body, gently supporting his weight.

  He fits his cock between her legs, and she pulses between them as he throbs for entry.

  “Scott, that was amazing.”

  He can hardly nod, he wants her so bad. He needs her.

  Her expression changes when she senses the agony of his control.

  Julia spreads her legs wider, and his prick is like a homing device, slipping into her entrance as though it was always made to be there.

  Scott dips his head, shuddering against the slick smooth velvet. She's so tight. Even with lust riding him, he doesn't want to hurt her. He shakes with the sensation.

  He must—to finish what they’ve started between.

  Her eyes seek his, and he fights to not look away. “It's okay. I know it'll hurt.”

  “Julia,” Scott presses his forehead against her much smaller one. “I'm sorry.”

  “I know.” Her eyes urge him on.

  Scott presses forward in a hard stroke, her newness fighting his length and his girth.

  Julia shouts in shock. Her expression can't mask the pain. “Hurts,” she hisses between pants.

  Scott nods, slowly removing his length.

  Julia stares at him, adjusting her hips. She spread her legs wider, trusting him.

  Scott gently rocks inside again.

  God she's tight. His mouth parts as his efforts in the last year to keep this from happening through all the upheaval catch up to him. He's frantic to own every inch of her.

  “Yes,” she whispers, putting her hands on his ass.

  Scott stills, throbbing and hard. He wants to pump with abandon. But through the meld, he can feel her soreness. Scott also feels her desire.

  She clenches her fingers on his ass and pushes her hips up.

  Take me, she sings through their connection, through their blood.

  Scott sucks a ragged inhale, plunging again.

  Julia meets him with a small pant of pain laced with desire.

  They lock gazes. Cradling her face with his hands, Scott begins to rock inside over and over. She meets his every thrust. Gradually, her pain eases, and he feels her excitement.

  “Close,” Julia breathes against his neck, her pussy makes a single tight fist around him, and Scott's head tips back in frozen ecstasy.

  He releases inside her, pouring his seed, his love, and his soul into her depths.

  Julia's cries of pleasure are salve to his battered nerves.

  The soul-meld tightens like a perfect knot, and their eyes meet, bodies joined.

  “What's happening?” she whispers, locked against him, their bodies in perfect synchronicity.

  Then the tingling begins, sweeping over them both like a live wire. Lights flash, and Scott groans as a second release pours out of him and Julia gasps in surprise as her release follows his.

  Scott feels true fear—his and Julia's—co-mingled in a new way. On the heels of the best sex of his life, Scott blacks out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Adi

  Adi can't believe she can be in this much pain and still be live.

  Nope. She's going for it.

  That fucker Slash!

  Her tears burn when they meet the healing wounds of her face. Males suck.

  Her eyes close for a second. How could those Were beat her and bite her boob?

  How could Slash—how could they be what they were, and he just shove her away like a regret?

  Adi thrashes through the woods, uncaring about the limbs and small branches snapping back. She takes the abuse without flinching or protecting herself.

  She could give less than a damn.

  Adi wanted Slash and he crushed her spirit. That jerkoff Tramack was all about getting to poor Tessa. He wouldn't have returned to give them another beat down.

  Adi slows, finally becoming aware of something other than her bull-in -a-china-closet march through the woods.

  A high-pitched keening reaches her ears.

  She looks behind her. Slash is back there, legs not working.

  Get the fuck out, he told her.

  Right. Adi sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing the soft flesh thoughtfully. She turns. Maybe I'll just go back.

  The memory of Slash's eyes hating on her halts her in her tracks.

  No. He didn't want me.

  The keening grows louder. Adi strains toward the sound. What on earth is that? She moves cautiously to the edge of the forest and pushes the last of the limbs aside, gathering her ragged clothes against herself.

  A red guy is clutching his dick, howling.

  Well, that’s unexpected. A rash little giggle slips out. She's never heard the sounds he makes before. The high-pitched agony isn't natural. Of course, losing your dick might kick that right along.

  Adi doesn't recognize him. But she recognizes the female Were in front of him—the new chick, Tessa.

  The guy does a slow revolution, still clutching his package.

  Her keen eyesight takes in something that goes plop on the ground.

  Oh my, is that his—?

  Adi covers her mouth to stifle more inappropriate laughter. And here, I thought the day couldn't be salvaged.

  Adi lets the branches fall back. Shit has gone down. She is not getting involved in whatever this new shit storm is. Though the compulsion to keep looking is like fire ants crawling over her skin, Adi runs along the small corridor of woods that almost touch the mansion. She'll get her stuff and make her way back to the Northwestern. Lawrence and Manny are dead. Her brother Joseph is also gone.

  She's a nobody. Nobody's sister. Nobody's pack member. Nobody's mate.

  Adi leans against the last tree. It's branches reach toward the edge of the huge Victorian. She angrily brushes tears off her sore face.

  I can go back to the Northwestern. Everyone who was important is gone. And the worst male, Tony, is done being him.

  No one to fear. Nothing to lose. Adi turns around in the direction where Slash was.

  And no one to keep me here.

  *

  Slash

  “This sucks,” Slash comments dryly.

  “Yeah. Accept the help. By the time we get back to the mansion, we can get you patched up better. That healer, Cynthia, she can fix ya.”

  Slash has no feeling in his lower back and upper thighs. Each minute crawls by as Truman walks him back toward the Victorian. They have to stop every few minutes because Truman's basically dragging him.

  “Look at that,” Truman says.

  Slash spots Tramack and several Were swimming in their own blood one hundred yards or so from their position.

  Good. Slash finds the energy to smile.

  He has trouble concentrating when the scent of his female is thick in his nose.

  But the enemy is in sight, and she is not. The knot of anxiousness in his chest loosens. It looks as though his scheme to assure her safety was successful. Slash's eyes narrow. “That's a demonic.”

  Truman shakes his head. “It's something. I didn't know what they were until that battle by Region Two.”

  Slash says, “I forget you were changed late.”

  Truman nods absently. “Yup. Really not up to speed on the different
species. However—” His chuckles abruptly. “There's definitely no shortage. Vamps, fey, shifters galore. Demonic, and can't forget our hosts, Blood Singers.”

  Speaking of which, the Singers are closing in around Tramack, who lies in a steaming pile of his own guts.

  Perfect.

  Slash releases a tense breath.

  Adi is safe.

  The demonic appears to be searching the ground for something of vital importance. Slash throws back his head and laughs when the demonic finds what he was looking for.

  “Ouch,” Truman mutters.

  Slash's mouth twists. “Losing your cock would be a grievous problem, my friend.”

  Truman gives him a narrow look. “Do we have time for comedy?”

  Amusement is in short supply, and Slash’s day has been so dark, he can only reply, “Always.”

  “Uh-huh. What about your girl?”

  “Long gone, hopefully in the opposite direction.” That’s Slash's most fervent wish. He can track her easily once he's on the mend.

  “You're not concerned?” Truman pulls a face of disbelief.

  “More than I can say.” Slash smacks his upper thigh, not feeling the blow. “But there's nothing that can be done. I can't protect her in the state I'm in.” His voice shakes with rage. “And I can't tear the beating heart out of the male who hurt her.”

  Their eyes land on Tramack.

  Several Singers—obviously not of angelic blood—haul the demonic up by the armpits as he makes pathetic sounds of injury. Slash spies a twisted car door covered in blood at his feet. Odd.

  Slash sneers. “We need to get over there and tell them what's happening.”

  “What's happening is Julia, Scott and Victor are unaccounted for, and that dog will say he was after his rightful mate. The Singers won't get embroiled in that little mess,” Truman says.

  “What?” Slash roars, tearing away from Truman and promptly falling on his ass.

  Another set of Singers swoop in and latch on to Tramack as he looks up from the ground.

  “Maybe they'll toss those lovebirds into the same cell?” Truman muses.

  “Doubt it.”

  Slash turns in Truman's direction. “Where is the Rare One and her soul-meld?”

  His eyes find Tramack again as he waits for Truman's reply. Slash would kill him twice if he could walk. To hell with the ramifications of his packmaster status.