Blood Enchantment

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  The Lanarre's heads jerk in his direction, their stub wolfen snouts rising to scent Slash.

  Their grips tighten painfully.

  Adi bows her head, breathing through the pain of their hold.

  Words are unnecessary.

  Slash's wolf bursts his skin. Blood, flesh, and bone fly, covering a ten foot diameter.

  Bits of Slash's human form land like gory rain on Jenni. She attempts to cover her face, but is too weak to do so. The remnants fall into her blood.

  “Slash! No!” He can't kill the Lanarre. It's a death sentence.

  Then he does.

  *

  Adi crawls toward Jenni. The throbbing sound of the car alarm has finally quieted, and she has a moment's consideration of how lucky they are that no one has come down into the underground garage. The short war felt like hours, but the time was likely only minutes.

  Slash is ripping up pieces of the males behind her. Ominous crunching, gnashing, and flesh rending is the only noise inside the space.

  He told her what he was: a male who didn't deserve her because of his deeds.

  He heaves a head, and it tumbles like a bowling ball alongside Adi. It rolls to a stop, sightless eyes appearing to track her slow progress toward the bleeding nurse.

  She ignores those dead eyes that seem to follow her, continuing her plodding course toward Jenni.

  Jenni reaches for Adi. Really, it just sort of falling toward her. Adi grasps, hauling the woman into her arms.

  Jenni coughs, and blood shoots out of her mouth.

  Adi's tears fall on her face.

  “Is that—”

  “Don't talk, Jenni.” Adi swallows her sobs like open wounds.

  “Slash?” Jenni whispers, her eyes vaguely turning in the direction of the sounds Slash makes as he tears the Lanarre to pieces.

  Adi nods, pressing her fingers to Jenni's lips. “I'm sorry. I—this is my fault.”

  Jenni squeezes her arm. “Is okay—” She coughs up more blood. “Dying anyway.”

  Their eyes meet.

  Both devastated.

  Growling erupts behind Adi, and she shields Jenni, quickly swiveling her body in the direction of the commotion.

  Grabber is healed.

  No.

  Slash has shifted back to wolfen and is circling the Lanarre.

  “I am Lanarre, Red. I order you to back away. You might live yet, despite your crime against Lycan.”

  Adi's eyes laser on the scattered remains of the other Lanarre.

  Slash doesn't answer. He grabs the other Were by the throat and smashes his head against the pillar Adi had kicked him into.

  Grabber sets his teeth in Slash's shoulder, and Slash howls in agony. He severs Grabber's head with his talons. A string of gristle still holds the head, and it tips backward, hitting Grabber's lower back. The gore is a gut-wrenching sight, even for her, and Adi gasps, turning her attention back to Jenni.

  She’s hanging on, but Adi smells her death. She's a tough human. Adi smooths her dyed-black hair back from her forehead.

  “Make me—” Jenni's gaze pleads with an unfinished question.

  Adi's eyes widen in realization.

  “Like you.” Jenni's bright brown eyes begin to dim then close.

  A thread of life lingers.

  Adi's beast feels that barrier between life and death. Her decision made, she closes her teeth over Jenni's throat, secreting the essence of what makes Adi Lycan directly into Jenni's bloodstream.

  Adi's so intent on what's she's doing, she doesn't realize Slash is there until it's too late.

  *

  Slash

  His mate lies in a pool of human's blood. He doesn't know the state of her injury, but he intends to find out.

  Slash returns his attention to the last Lanarre male he would bring to true death. He knows the repercussions for this particular sin.

  And they are worth it.

  Slash was doomed from the moment he scented the malesʼ lust for his female.

  They will not have her, he thought.

  And then Slash had not thought much more. He did.

  His eyes move to the disaster of what is left of the royal branch of Lycan, and he sniffs in disgust. So much for the caretakers of females.

  Without another glance, he moves toward his mate. He stops when he sees what she does next.

  “Adrianna!” Slash roars.

  She ignores him.

  He grabs her gently and attempts to pry her off the dying female.

  Adi slaps his hands away.

  Slash could easily overpower her. She is a small female. But he doesn’t want to force her.

  Slash wants to love her. Desperately.

  “Adrianna—don't condemn her. She is not born of us.”

  “Get your hands off me!”

  She turns to face him, lips bloody, teeth longer than a human’s. Her hair is a rat's nest, and her eyes are filled with fear and anger—directed at him, no doubt.

  Still, she is beautiful. Her scent wipes away rational thought.

  “You lost the right to order me around when you told me to—” Her lips trembles, and Slash aches to kiss it. “When you told me to ʻget the fuck away from you.ʼ I believe those were your words.”

  Slash winces at her reminder. But they have more important matters.

  “And stop looking at me like that!” she yells.

  Slash cannot help the way he looks at her and says the obvious, “You're in heat.”

  Adi rolls her eyes. “Gee, Einstein, ya think?”

  There's no time for her willfulness at the moment. “We need to get out of here. Now. Where there are some Lycan, there are more.”

  “Whatever!” Adi says, gently depositing the human on the ground, and stands.

  She pokes Slash in the chest. “Those guys were Lanarre, Slash.”

  Adi has a point, he admits to himself. “I'm aware of that, Adrianna.”

  “Then why in the world did you kill them?” she cries, her heart in her eyes. She smacks his broad chest then cradles her hand. “Why, Slash? They'll hunt you for killing Lanarre. If I mean so little to you, why would you take the risk?”

  Slash eyes her lips, full of blood.

  Beautiful.

  He bends to hover over her mouth. “Because there is no reason to take another breath—unless you're in it.”

  Then his mouth falls on hers, ravishing every bit of plump flesh.

  Slash tastes the blood of their enemies.

  Bodies are scattered everywhere, the human female might live, die, or become a Were. But none of that matters. The female in his arms is all that’s important.

  She squirms.

  Slash reluctantly loosens his grip at her hips, searching Adrianna's face.

  When her hand strikes his cheek, he doesn't move away.

  “Stop lying to me!”

  Slash chuckles. Adrianna's still pissed at him, and rightfully so.

  “Jerk!” she screams in his face, touching the mouth he just kissed. His eyes go to her lips, and it's all he can do not to kiss her again. Her heat pushes at him, pummeling him.

  But humans approach. “I'm sorry, Adrianna. But you must know…”

  “I know that you're a dick. And that you slept with me then told me to leave. How could you?”

  Voices can be heard not too far off. Their ears prick in unison.

  Adi's tears cloud her eyes. Slash thumbs a few off as they fall, then sucks them off his digit, tasting the salt of her sadness.

  “Stop,” Adi's voice quavers.

  “Never.” Slash cradles her face. “I made you leave. I said what I knew would hasten it, Adrianna. Tramack could have come back for you. And then what would have happened? In my paralyzed and unhealed state?”

  Slash sees in her face that she intuits the potential.

  “So you didn't really want me to leave?”

  He hates how small her voice sounds. He put that tone there. Him. He tips his forehead to hers, sliding his fingers to her ne
ck and fingering her skin gently. “Adrianna, I love you more than the moon.”

  “No Lycan loves anything more than the moon, Slash.”

  “I am not any Lycan.” Pulling away, he stares deeply into hazel eyes gone gold with her beast. “I am the male who loves you.”

  Humans appear inside the ruined doorway, take a look at the carnage, and start screaming and shouting.

  Slash takes her hand and pulls her from the garage.

  Adi tugs, and he turns to see why she's stalling.

  Her eyes go to where the human female was, but she is gone.

  Slash captures Adi in his arms and runs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Tessa

  She thought he'd gone, but Laz had visually tortured her with how quickly he moved.

  He stands before her in a blur of red flesh.

  Laz smooths his hands over Tessa's breasts, kneading them, and her core pulses once, aching for more. He seems to sense her need, dipping his hand to cover her mound.

  When he slips a finger over her yoga pants and between her folds, she gasps then groans, pushing her hips against his seeking finger.

  “Laz,” she says against his mouth.

  “What may I do to ease you?”

  Oh Moon, make love to me until I can't walk. Tessa says, “I want to do this—I do, but we're in this place with all the Lanarre, and they know I'm in heat and—”

  He presses his wandering fingers to her lips, and she kisses the tips. They're like bathwater against her flesh. “Then let us leave. We will escape this place, and no one shall rule us.”

  Tessa wants that.

  She wants him.

  “I am not Lycan. I can never be.” He tips her chin up, looking deeply into her eyes, and Tessa is lost in the smoke of his gaze. “But I was made for you—and you for me.”

  “How, Laz? How is that even possible?”

  He shakes his head. “I do not know. But what I do know is, there is a fragment of the demonic. Those of us that are not fully of the devil. And because of this ancient DNA, we can sometimes be given a second chance in a realm other than Hades. A roll of the genetic dice, if you will.”

  He's so earnest, Tessa almost believes him.

  His fingers skate lightly across her features, and she shivers. Trembling with want, she shakes beneath the heat of his touch. “The myth is that you will know your Redemptive immediately, but she will not know you. You're more than a freedom from the prison of my station. You're a chance for happiness and a new life. You are labeled correctly. Tessa.” He kisses her softly on the mouth, and she helplessly moans against him. “You are my redemption.”

  “Lazarus, Lazarus, Lazarus,” a low voice chastises, and Tessa whirls. The horned fucker.

  Laz shoves her behind himself protectively. “Praile.”

  Praile puts his clawed hands, tipped by ebony nails, on his hips and cocks his head. “Yes, Praile,” he mocks. “You have frustrated me to no end.”

  His gaze falls on Tessa, and whatever brave thoughts she entertains, flee.

  It's fair to consider he's going to want a little payback.

  Tessa tries to inch away.

  Laz glances at her. “Do not leave my side.”

  Praile's eyes narrow, sighting them like an eagle with prey in range. “This lowly female bitch shall die a slow death.” Praile grabs his dick through loose pants and squeezes it. Tessa's eyes go to his hand at his crotch. “All better, my little mutt. Despite your reprehensible actions.” He glowers at her as though she gave him a paper cut.

  That makes Tessa so much more scared than an outward threat. She feels her bladder give a little hiccup.

  “You've interrupted the Master's important work, you pathetic female. And that work will commence and be seen through.” His eyes move to Laz. “I don't know what provoked you to leave me bleeding and dickless in the dirt of the angelic compound, but I will see a punishment so terrible it will be as though you eternally perish.” Praile taps a short black nail against his chin. “Actually, that is the exact definition of residing in hades. Sublime.”

  Tessa finds her voice. “And when you put it like that, I'm sure Laz will just run and volunteer for your brand of bullshit.”

  “Lazarus,” Praile says, giving him a look so full of malice that Tessa's knees feel weak.

  Laz squeezes her hip where his hand rests.

  “Move aside and let me take my revenge on a female who would think to injure a high demon in such a fashion.”

  Tessa scans the blackness outside the windows. Where are the Lanarre? The silence is loud.

  Her eyes meet the demonic’s.

  Praile smiles. “They sleep, little bitch. There is no one to help you. Lazarus knows his place. Whatever infatuation he might have mentioned so he might stick his hot ineffective wick in your pathetic pussy is false. He will not turn his back on the Master and survive.” He spreads his deep-red arms in a gesture implying how reasonable his words are. How absolute.

  His horns glow like spikes of shadowed ink on his head.

  “Laz didn't lie to me.” Tessa glances at Laz, whose face is like pale-red stone.

  He shakes his head, offering a slit of a grin. Small spirals of steam leak out as he speaks, “We are demonic. Deceit is like breathing for our kind. Test him, Were female.”

  Tessa looks uncertainly at Laz, who continues to stare intently at Praile.

  “Did he tell you that you were his Redemptive, perhaps?”

  Tessa's breath catches in her chest, and she whirls to face him again.

  Praile's laughs gleefully, tipping his head back. Gales of perverse chuckles tumble out of a mouth. His tongue and teeth are black, and his gums are very red. “Do not feel too aghast. Every demon has from time to time desired a little tail from the surface.” He smiles, and thick steam streams from his mouth. Eyes like black obsidian discs of pure evil regard her.

  “Laz,” Tessa says in a low voice. “What is he saying?”

  Laz takes a step away from her. Her fingertips trail over his smooth back as he walks toward Praile.

  “Have you had her yet?” Praile asks, and Laz shakes his head.

  “Did you do as I ask? Feign our getaway, so that the Rare One will be unsuspecting?”

  Laz nods. “Yes.”

  Tessa swallows her gorge. Not a great time to let hurt, nerves, and the potential for a smackdown get the best of her.

  Praile claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. Now…” His glittering black orbs study Tessa. “I do believe we have a little time for sport with this one before the Lanarre wake from their little nappy.”

  They turn and face Tessa.

  Laz's eyes are as dark as Praile's.

  They move toward her, and Tessa's screams fill the cottage.

  *

  Drek

  Drek rushes out the front entrance to his home, and the sound of a female's screams shatter eardrums sensitive to a pin dropping.

  Her terror beats at him.

  Tahlia’s escape set his nerve endings on fire. The farther she is from him, the more Drek realizes he's made a grave error in judgement.

  He trips over a body and catches himself on a stout wood porch post. Looking down, he finds Bowen lying on his back, snoring softly.

  “Bowen!” Drek yells, toeing him.

  Nothing.

  He peers into the gloom of the woods. Lanarre guards litter the ground, appearing to have dropped where they stood.

  Drek turns, making sure Tanya is still secure against the pole. He gives her an apologetic look and leaves her.

  “Wait!” she shrieks. “You can't just leave me here!”

  He strides toward the sound of screaming that makes the fine hairs at his nape stand at attention.

  Drek halts when he gets a whiff of an odor as offensive as vampire’s, though most Lycan are unable to smell, either.

  Demonic.

  A layer of red vapor hovers like poisonous gas over the sleeping Lanarre.

  The scr
eams make more sense now.

  He moves to the guest cottage, his eyes rising heavenward in search of a white bird—his chosen. Drek was too ignorant to see and act accordingly.

  He jogs to the steps, imagining Bowen’s commentary had he been awake and by his side.

  A low voice growls words that let Drek know what he is dealing with—not an enemy, but a relation of sorts.

  That's why the Lanarre sleep but are not dead.

  Drek will handle this spawn of the devil.

  His gaze moves a last time to the inky blanket of sky dotted with the stars like coarse, sprinkled salt.

  Tahlia is not there.

  When the door doesn't open, he rams it with his shoulder, and it bursts wide.

  The demonic are converging on Tessa.

  She's wolfen and in fighting posture.

  Drek moves in to assist, and the distant sound of birdsong reaches his ears.

  The music distracts him, and thoughts of Tahlia crowd his logic, enticing his mind that it might be she.

  Drek’s hesitation is his undoing as the demonic attacks.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Slash

  Slash doesn't stop running until his legs grow numb. His lungs are an oven of slow-burning fire. He and Adrianna are deep within the bounds of the woods. Safe.

  For now.

  Slash slows to a jog, feeling gimpy because his limbs refuse to cooperate. When he stops, he gently swings Adrianna around by her arms. She sways, and Slash draws her in against him.

  “If I'm exhausted, you must be beyond exhausted,” she says against his heaving chest.

  Slash is. But he's been through more than this. So he simply nods.

  Adrianna pulls away, looking worse for wear. Her hair is matted with leaves and needles.

  Slash smiles, gently pushing the mess of her hair back from her forehead.

  “I must look like shit.” She stares at her feet.

  Slash scents her uncertainty, and so much more.

  “Adrianna.”

  She looks up at him, and Slash fights to not give her the profile of his face that remains unscarred.

  “We will get cleaned up. We will feed. We will rest.”