Destiny's Dark Fantasy Boxed Set (Eight Book Bundle)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “What are you saying George?” Truman walked up to him, getting right in his grill. He was going to spill this info if it killed him. His green eyes met Truman's.

  “I'm saying we have real life werewolves.”

  Truman staggered back a step. “No,” he denied, getting a physical reaction of heat climbing his body uncomfortably. His mind had spun around the possibility of it, eventually dismissing it as too unreal.

  Alexander paced toward him, ticking off the facts on his hand, “Canine genome, DNA match, size, aggression, higher reasoning...” then after a pause, he let the final bomb drop, “the saliva tells us the final piece.”

  Real enough.

  Truman leaned forward despite not wanting to, his heart in his throat, the evidence warring with his disbelief over anything that was not concrete, normal.

  Sane.

  “Human genome,” George Alexander said quietly.

  Truman stared at Alexander and he returned it, the moment swelled with portentous knowledge, belief solidifying.

  Half human, half wolf.

  Werewolf.

  Alexander was reminded of one of the first precepts he had learned in med school, when you hear hoofbeats behind you, don't expect to see a zebra.

  In this case, that's all he heard.

  Zebras.

  CHAPTER 32

  Jason.

  Maybe her eyes deceived her but Julia's heart knew.

  She had watched as the feral melted away and a nearly naked Jason ran to her, staving off her killing blow.

  She crashed into him, her arms snapping around him. His body felt at once shocking familiar and foreign in her embrace.

  It was a moment before she knew something was wrong as pandemonium broke loose all around her. The different factions came together at once in a collision of claws, talons and speed.

  Julia was prone on her back before she could move, breathe. Jason's now-human hands encircled her throat, her feverish skin burning against his cooler flesh. She frantically searched eyes that didn't know her, crazed and full of heat and hate.

  Who was he now? Julia shrieked inside her head.

  Her head swam and she began to grow dizzy, her stomach cramping as Jason... her husband from another life, another time... began to choke her to death.

  Scott saw the feral return to his human state and launch himself at Julia. Scott bounded toward the feral werewolf just as he began to strangle Julia. The feral's mind was obviously broken.

  William understood who it was the instant the red Were changed into human form. He had seen photos of Julia's former husband. But this was no longer the husband she knew, his mind was gone, the wolf in control even while human. Few Singers could overcome the transition to Were or vampire. It was never attempted, the results at this moment a confirmation of the dangerous consequence. The theory borne into fruition.

  William charged Jason Caldwell at the precise moment as Joseph and Tony.

  The vampire and Were collided and the forest grew still except for the sounds of flesh tearing and the battering of one against the other. Scott landed on the back of the Singer, aiming a blow to stun him, the vamps and Were fighting behind him, his siblings making a protective wall around him.

  Jason felt the blow on the base of his neck, numbing in its accuracy and force, he began to slide away from the woman who he'd been strangling.

  He recognized her too late.

  Jason fell beside her, meeting her eyes.

  Puzzle pieces of memories coming from a blizzard that twirled without pattern to a solid stream of consciousness.

  This was not any female.

  This was his wife.

  Julia.

  What had he done? He moved to get up and one of his kind leaped on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

  But not before her eyes had met his and Jason saw the one that had hit him pick Julia up as the Were and vampire beat each other into the forest floor, blood covering everything under five feet in a spinning tornado of gore.

  Black and red ran together like a poisonous lake. He watched the blood of his kind and that of his enemy run together, his consciousness slipping away, the blow's accuracy successful in its intent.

  Jason's last memory was Julia being taken from him in the arms of a large man, others like him surrounded them in a cocoon of protection, the vampire and Were dying and worse all around him.

  He turned his head and looked at the female Were above him as his eyes closed, exhaustion from the Change and the revelation of what he'd done and who he was dropping him like a stone in a tumultuous sea of nothingness.

  Jason fell away from her and Julia sucked in a lungful of precious air, a hitching sob the next sound that escaped, her abused throat on fire.

  Jason had tried to kill her! It was worse than his death. He lived but wasn't him!

  Two palms cradled her face and forced her to focus on the one who had saved her from certain death. First by her own hand, then the death that had been promised by a kiss of hands that had once loved her.

  The electric shock of Scott's hands against Julia's skin instantly cooled the fever and stopped the internal turmoil of her stomach's roil. She felt him lift her from the ground, strong arms wrapped her against his body and he turned, a silent command which felt like intent rose from him like a sigh and the others gathered around him like soldiers.

  Julia's head burrowed against his chest, her eyes just clearing his strong arm where they met the stare of Tony, dead vampire at his feet. William was nowhere to be seen.

  Joseph was dead as well.

  Tony was the new Alpha.

  Fear rose in her instantly. Scott ran in the opposite direction and the group they left behind became smaller in her vision, Jason and Adi on the forest floor together. Jason unconscious and unaware, his head held by Adi.

  Adriana's eyes were all for Tony, the victor over the vampire, his sights solely on Julia.

  Tony threw his head back and howled into the still air of the forest, his rage filling Julia's ears, reverberating inside her soul like a discordant note of music.

  Scott's arms pulsed around Julia once, tightening with protection.

  Scott picked up his pace. The mongrel would never touch her again.

  He'd stake his life on it.

  THE END

  Read on for the exciting first chapter of BLOOD SONG....

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  BLOOD SONG

  Tamara Rose Blodgett

  BLOOD SONG

  Book Two: The Blood Series

  Copyright 2012 Tamara Rose Blodgett

  http://tamararoseblodgett.blogspot.com/

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved.

  Edited by Stephanie T. Lott

  Dedication:

  Cameren,

  Who pressed me to finish Blood Singers back in 2007 when it was only a dream. Without his encouragement, this work would not have come to fruition~

  William and Julia:

  She listened to his blood as a melody.

  Her blood to William was a symphony.

  There really was no comparison....

  ~Blood Singers

  CHAPTER 1

  The pain was beyond what she could easily deal with, her guts twisting without mercy. Julia dry heaved into the commode for the twelfth time as Jen held her hair away from her face.<
br />
  Jen stabbed a wet washcloth in front of her and Julia grabbed it, swabbing the inside of her mouth.

  “You're gonna need some food and water...” Jen began to nag.

  Julia held up her hand like a stop sign, “No water,” she whispered, her hair falling forward again in limp strands.

  Jen rolled her eyes. Can we have some GD self-preservation already? she wondered.

  “Listen, Julia... we have regular tap water here, ya know, you're not gonna get the shats,” Jen said, straightening.

  Julia groaned, gripping her stomach with her hands. “Listen,” Jen's voice softened, “let our Healer have a look.”

  “I'll be okay,” Julia shuddered as someone began to pound on the door.

  “Yeah... ya look so good,” Jen agreed sarcastically, noticing how pale Julia was, how her hands trembled as she pushed her hair behind her ears. Shock, dehydration and lack of food covered her like a well-worn coat.

  “Hey!” Scott shouted from the other side of the door. “What's going on in there!” The door shuddered under the assault of his fist.

  Julia rolled over on her back, the cool hexagon-shaped tile pressing against her feverish cheek as she threw her forearm over her eyes. “Tell him to take a hike!” Julia hissed.

  Jen grinned. If it weren't for the circumstances this would be truly wonderful. She had never thought she'd live to see the day when her asshat brother would get all flustered and brought to heel with a soul-meld.

  Bliss.

  The door shuddered again from his pounding. “Julia!” Jen heard the frantic note in his deep voice and walked to the door.

  “Quit it! She's okay,” Jen said through the door, loving his discomfort in a way that was barely legal.

  “Let me in, sister,” Scott delivered with quiet menace.

  Fine, she thought, sighing. Jen wrapped her hand around the glass knob and it rattled as she turned it.

  Jen swung the door open and Scott roared past her into the bathroom where Julia lay on the floor.

  Scott had sat on his hands all morning, worried about Julia, hating it. Hating her.

  She'd irrevocably changed his life and it didn't matter that Julia was his, the whole thing had been thrust on him. But Scott couldn't stop thinking about her. He could feel an echo of her pain, her emotions.

  It was kinda suffocating.

  She was ill and his body moved to where she was like a satellite come to orbit. Where Julia was Scott needed to be. His emotions didn't really matter.

  The loss of choice is what got on Scott's last nerve.

  Though that riot of emotion began to slip away when he saw the Queen of the Blood Singers on the floor, looking pale and fragile, her warm blond hair acting as a silken rug around her. Julia was so weak she didn't even acknowledge his presence, her face in profile, one cheek pressed against the bathroom floor.

  Scott could feel her indifference, as Julia could feel his contrary emotions.

  Soul-meld stuff.

  But it was her plight that spurred Scott to move to her side, his big frame folding beside her.

  Julia looked up at Scott and fought the soul-meld, even as their insides came together in a perfectly synchronized mesh of relief. Their parting was not a natural situation.

  Their unity was.

  She watched his hand move to brush a hair away from her face and Julia said, “Don't,” in a low voice.

  “Why?” Scott asked, frustration creeping into his tone.

  “Because I know you don't want to,” she replied, still lying on her back.

  “Julia... don't look at me like that.” His eyes bore down on hers with care, concern and anger.

  Julia hiked herself up, glaring at him when he moved to help her, his hand falling away. When she was upright she said, “I'll look at you any way I want. After all,” she cocked her head and pegged him with her bourbon eyes, smoldering with heat, hatred, “soulmates, right?” she spat with derision.

  Jen sucked in the oxygen that remained in the room.

  It wasn't much.

  “Actually, it's soul-meld,” Jen stated unhelpfully.

  Julia gave her a withering look.

  “Feeling better, pet?” Jen asked with sarcasm.

  “No!” Julia said. Then glared at Scott harder. Just having him close to her had regulated her body. The illness from her creek episode was there but his nearness eased her physically.

  She effing hated it.

  Scott's eyes narrowed on her, Julia's body language clear and resolute. How could he be bound to her? He was definitely not the committing type.

  He didn't choose this path.

  Julia read his expression. “Don't worry about it Scott. You were the Big Ass Protector. You've done your Boy Scout Duty, you can dump my ass now.”

  “Julia,” Jen threw up her hands, feeling sorry for her brother against her will.

  No... nothing was stopping him, Scott thought, his eyes roving her angry features, those golden eyes flashing at him inside her pale face. He could feel how sick she was but more than sickness, Julia was stubborn.

  His body ached to make hers right, Scott's hands clenched at his sides in the effort not to touch her.

  It wasn't about choice. Fate had chosen for them. Through blood. Through destiny.

  They were blood chosen.

  And Julia was his.

  His to protect, his to take care of.

  Eventually, his to love.

  It was a mandate from deep in the fiber of his being, inexplicable... irrefutable. As Scott looked at the thunderous expression on Julia's face, so obviously against her will.

  “She won't see the healer,” Jen told Scott.

  “The hell she won't,” he stared at Julia and she glared back.

  “You can't make me!” she yelled, two feet away from his face.

  “Well, sweetheart,” Scott said, placing his palms on either side of her hips and leaning into her personal bubble, he loomed over her, “we're not in Kindergarten anymore and You. Will. Be. Healed,” he roared at her, the fine hairs by her temple moving with the power behind his voice. Shame washed over him when he felt her response as a hiccup of fear.

  Julia was scared of him.

  Scott backed away as she continued to stare at him.

  “Argh!” Scott grunted in frustration to her anxiety, raking his hand through his hair, her eyes holding something more than her irritation.

  Fear. Fear of him.

  Scott stalked off, slamming the door behind him and Julia collapsed on the cold tile again, the hot tears she shed warming the coolness beneath her, the small energy she'd received from Scott's presence departing like smoke through a crack, and with it, her vitality.

  Julia fell asleep where she lay, in a small heap on the bathroom floor, tears sticking to fevered flesh. Her dreams played like a sick nightmare she couldn't escape from.

  *

  Scott

  Scott paced in front of his father, Marcus, the leader of Region One of Blood Singers.

  He threw up his hand, the energy from his anger racing around the office inside the Learning Compound and pinging back to the pair like a blazing boomerang of emotion.

  Marcus stood, his coal black hair so like the son's. Scott charged back and forth in the small space like a bull with a red cape waved in front of him.

  “Calm down!” Marcus roared in a voice full of command, authority. Marcus did not need to yell to be heard. As a point of fact, he knew that authority was not about control gained through violence and shouts, but respect through experience.

  Scott stopped, his chest heaving, his hands buried in the front of his jean's pockets, his jet-black brows dropped like a brick over eyes that were so dark a brown they were like chocolate ink.

  “Why?!” Scott shouted. “I was fucking fine without this,” he ripped his hands out of his jeans and flung one toward the house where Julia was.

  Still ill. Her sickness pressed on him like a weight he couldn't bear. It was all he could do to not be next
to her.

  Taking care of her.

  “Language, Scott,” Marcus said.

  “Dad... come on.”

  “You are twenty-five years old and can use whatever colorful metaphors that come to mind. But bear in mind there are many here now who look to you as an example.” Marcus spread his hands away from his body, imploring his eldest to see reason.

  It would be the plow against a tough field. Of all his offspring, Scott was the most stubborn.

  “They're not here now and I don't stand as an example before you.”

  “Good habits begin now, Scott,” Marcus stated.

  Scott bowed his head, reining his anger in. When a full two minutes had passed he locked gazes with his father.

  “Did you know?” Scott looked at him with a dumbstruck expression. “Did you know this was real? That I would be a part of this dumbass destiny equation?”

  Marcus stared at him. He deliberated, but in the end he decided the time had come to tell Scott the truth.

  Scott watched his dad fold his hands behind his back and many things happened at once: Julia took a turn for the worse, he could feel his sister coming for him and his father had a look that said that there was a grave secret.

  Scott literally felt like a fist was clenching in his guts. Julia, his soul whispered.

  He was helpless; Scott did the only thing he could.

  He went to her.

  *

  William

  William felt his jaw flutter from clenching it so tightly and slammed his fist down on the table that had stood in the same position for the hundred years he had been part of this coven. It shook beneath his rage, rattling.

  “How can you just...” he waffled his hand from side to side, Gabriel's glower telling him of his apathy, “let her go,” William finished in a low voice.