by Kim Faulks
The young mother stood with her back to me, head lowered, shoulders curled. Behind her was a makeshift clinic in one half of the room, and the other crammed with a computer, a centrifuge, and other machines I didn’t recognize. The Doctor stood to the side, her skin ashen, hands fluttering helplessly by her side. One held a syringe, the plunger rammed all the way to the end. But it was the child that called me, and it was the child I answered.
“Don’t,” Zadoc growled and took a step.
I reached out and brushed his arm as that dark current swelled. Energy raced through my fingers. His eyes widened, breath stilled. A tortured cry slipped from his lips. Love battled, forcing him to fight the call. “No,” he growled and moved to block my path. “I won’t let you.”
“I can’t stop her from bleeding.”
The small tortured words filled the small room. The Wretched’s brow narrowed, forehead creased. He closed his eyes and rocked on his heel with the weight of those words.
“I know,” I answered and moved around the Guardian.
He made no move to stop me…not that he could.
A drop of blood smacked the back of her hand and slipped between her fingers. Life dimmed in her arms, just a glimmer now, holding on to her mother’s warmth for one more second.
Joslyn took a slow step, moving around the mountain now still. “You came here before to kill her.”
The tiny Dragon was all but done, her scales no longer shone, tiny eyes closed. Inky blood welled in the corners of her eyes and slipped from the bridge of her nose. I could feel Acheron raging inside her. She was too young…too weak.
She could never withstand his torment. Not like this. “I came here to save her.” Agony was a blade between my ribs as I moved, taking one slow step.
“A mercy killing.” The young mother whispered as she held the weakened life and stared at me.
She’d aged, far beyond her mortal years. I nodded and lifted my hand toward the child.
Reflex pulled her from my reach as Joslyn gripped her tight, smashing the still body to her breast. “She’s mine…she’s always been mine.”
A cry ripped from the Doctor. The syringe fell, bounced against the tiles and came to rest.
“I can’t beat him,” I whispered and found the young mother’s gaze. “I’ve tried, God knows I’ve tried.”
And I couldn’t…Acheron, the Original Vampire, raged far deeper than I could reach. He was sewn into the very essence of my undead life, and now he was sewn into the child’s.
I’d never been one of the good guys.
I was a Shadistin Princess, born into hate, hurt, and betrayal. And I played my part. I instilled fear and demanded loyalty…with the cutting edge of a blade.
But right now, I was none of those things. Right now I was a dark force rushing to the surface, for as powerful as Life was…so was Death.
Energy swirled inside me and bled into the air. I opened my hands, taking the child from her arms. Scales slipped on bone. I stared at her sunken cheeks and her dull eyes. She was weak, too weak to linger. I reached out grasping the darkness that consumed her.
This time there was no wolf to take her place.
The cold tenacious arms of Death slipped from their hold, and found a new anchor. The raw power was a tsunami. I swallowed, swallowed and dragged the darkness deeper. Agony flared in my chest, pinpricks of heat sliced deep and the Archer growled in response behind me.
I turned, catching myself in that bottomless gaze.
We were connected now, entwined in Death’s arms and as the obsidian shards in my chest flared to life I heard a cry.
A brutal, unmerciful screech from the tiny Dragon in my arms.
25
Lucas
Eva wobbled, lifted one hand toward me. Desperation flared in her eyes like a bolt of lightning before her knees buckled.
I lunged as Joslyn let out a cry, catching Eva as Zadoc moved in. Midnight wings flapped. Slapping my brother’s arms as a piecing shriek ripped through my head.
“She’s alive…” The Doc stumbled, pushed, and speared one hand under Zadoc’s arm to touch the squealing Dragon. “She’s alive. Thank you, Jesus.”
Sobs echoed around me as I pulled Eva close. She was cold, so very fucking cold. Pale lips blended into ashen skin. Spidered veins pulsed black just under the surface.
But it was her arms that gripped me, long slashes, deep into bone. The entire side of her neck was blackened. The smell of singed flesh clenched my gut. I swallowed hard. Her dress was ripped, sliced nearly down her spine. Those wolves…those fucking wolves…
The Archer pushed to the surface, bowing my spine.
Zadoc’s hand closed around my arm. “Easy, brother,” the Wretched urged.
Heat seared into my flesh. I raised my head, finding strength in my kin, and for a second he was all I could feel, and all I could see.
I failed him…when he needed me the most. I ran. Goddess fucking help me, but I kept the Archer behind the damn wall, and I ran. “I would’ve killed them all, for you. Wolves, humans…the demons. I wouldn’t be able to stop—not then. Maybe not now.”
His fingers dug deeper into my arm, spearing into muscle as faint red flames flared to life. “I know. Deep down, I’ve always known. I don’t blame you, brother. I never did.”
“Lucas.” Marcus growled behind me.
Zadoc’s grip slipped on my arm as I heaved her legs higher in the air for better hold.
“We need answers. She can’t just…”
I turned finding Marcus in the doorway. “Not now.”
He shook his head, taking one glance at the woman in my arms and moved to block my path. “It can’t wait.”
Hate raged, swirling around me like a fucking storm. The Archer breathed. He lived…and I’d never been so fucking alive. “It can’t wait? Look at her…go on.” I stretched out my arms until muscles trembled. “You can either move, Marcus, or be prepared for what follows.”
Red seeped into his skin, scales marked the lines, as the Bloodletter took hold. And I was ready…so fucking ready to be the cruel fucking monster they thought me to be.
“Gabriel,” Eva hissed. “My warrior.”
There was a heartbeat of silence before Marcus answered. “He’s alive, and safe…for now.”
Her dark brows furrowed, pain raged as she tried to rise. “I need to tell them…need to tell your kin. The wolves…big wolves…”
“No, you don’t.” I pulled her close, mashing her side into my chest. My warmth bled into cold skin, she was a block of ice. “Right now you need to heal, my family can give you time for that at least.”
The Bloodletter lingered in that hard gaze, and then died away. Pink replaced red, scales softened to skin.
“Marcus,” Zadoc growled behind me. “Let them go.”
“We’re not out of this. She’s still out there.” Marcus took as step to the side. “And she's coming.”
Desperation welled in his eyes. Death lingered on my brother’s lips. The kind that made a man squeamish, the kind meant for someone like me. I took a step, pushing past Marcus and the others and headed back along the hallway.
Wolves watched me as I turned, taking the stairs two at a time. The weight settled heavy on my shoulders, as Marcus’s words came to life.
You murdered in cold blood. What were we supposed to do, fucking congratulate you? Guardian…the word means to protect, means to hold the sanctity of life—human or other. We love you, but we can’t have you killing—not in cold blood, not without cause. That’s not who we are. That’s not what we stand for.
“Let me walk.”
I ignored her and found the last stair before I hit the landing.
“Lucas,” she snarled. “Let me walk.”
Those pale eyes called me. I looked down to her murky pupils and bleached white irises. They weren't like that in the cavern. I can’t beat him, she whispered to Joslyn. I’ve tried, God knows I’ve tried.
I had a good idea who he was. The sonofab
itch from the cavern reared like a fucking roundhouse kick to the gut. Midnight lashes stilled, as those eyes widened.
An icy tongue licked along my spine. My steps faltered, boots skimmed the damn floor as I barged through the cracked open door and shoved it closed.
“You want to walk,” I murmured, and eased her feet to the floor. “Then walk.” Her knees trembled and then locked as she took in the bare bedroom, stilling at the obsidian arrowhead. “Sorry about the decor. This room’s a loaner. My room is missing a window it seems.”
She stiffened. I didn’t fight the smirk, not even when she turned and speared me with that merciless gaze. “You want me to apologize?”
Apologize?
“Never.” The word escaped with a rush. I took a step, still unsure if I was fucking worthy. “I’ll never ask you to apologize for being who you are. But I will ask you to let me look at that.”
I nodded to her arm. Even as we stood here she was healing, bloodless muscle knitted together slowly. I lifted my hand to her face. She stiffened, her eyes widened, but she never flinched…never even moved. Fuck she was ruthless. I curled my fingers and skimmed the smeared, dried blood on her cheek.
“You want what I can’t give.” Her voice was so small, barely a murmur.
One brow rose. “Really? And what is it that I want?”
“You want someone yielding, someone who’ll warm your bed and your heart. That person isn’t me. It never was, and never will be.”
And that was where she was wrong. Her darkness called to mine. Something happened in that room—and my beast answered in kind. “You mistake me, Princess. Look inside your own heart and know the truth.”
Her heart throbbed. I could feel the echo in my own chest. I licked my lips…loyalty raged a battle as I took a step closer to brush her shoulder with my chest.
“Careful, Guardian,” she murmured, and turned those soulless eyes to me. “You remember what happened to the last immortal who tried to give me his heart. I ripped it out of his chest.”
And with those words the image was resurrected. The bloody muscle had quivered in her palm, before she clenched. I could still hear the thud of his knees as his body hit the floor.
My breath left in a shudder, body hummed. “I’d cut the damn thing out myself, if that’s what you wanted.”
Her lips flattened. There was a spark of terrifying desire. I dragged the back of my finger lower, catching the ripped edge of her neckline. Milky flesh trembled under my touch. “Will you let me care for you?”
I’ve never seen someone so cold, someone so cruelly unapologetic. My cock twitched, pressing against the zipper of my jeans as she tilted her head, exposing her neck. I gripped what remained of her top and yanked.
Cloth tore, exposing her shoulder. Her and me…we were the outcasts, even within our own kind—and yet here and now we belonged.
Ivory fangs peeked out from dusky lips. The savage gouges along her arms were gone now, tight muscle closed over bone, skin knitted tight with barely a blemish. I dropped my hand to skim that flesh and felt a surge of power. The wolf haunted me, lying there…dead without a scratch. And yet there was something about these gouges.
I ran the line, just one from her elbow to her wrist and turned her arm over. There were four claws, even for someone so thin they’d be another slice, just as deep running parallel. “The wolves, they did this to you?”
She never answered, only turned her head. She lifted her hand to work the clasps of her bodice.
No, the Archer whispered. They didn’t.
The leather garment hit the floor with a thud. The fabric of her dress was singed where it wasn’t torn. Wolves didn’t burn…
She yanked the skirt and it fell, leaving her lower body in thin black panties that rode high on her hips. I dropped my gaze and my fingers followed, skimming the hard edge of her hips, and then lower.
Soft skin dimpled as I gripped her thigh and pulled. The Archer’s heavy breaths filled my ears. A lash of pain stilled my touch, tearing a hiss through clenched teeth.
There was no tenderness—not with my beast, nor with this woman. She reached for the ribbon in a tangle against her chest. One hard yank and the end unraveled, widening the gap of her neckline.
I dragged my fingers across that perfect skin, cresting the tops of her breasts and gripped her neck. Pine needles stuck out of midnight strands as they brushed her shoulders. She was a Bruja, this woman, a dark fucking force that drew me deeper than I’d ever felt before.
She didn’t just cross my mind—she lived there.
“You are terrifying,” I murmured. “And beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to…” Love. The word hovered on my lips. An ache flared through my chest as I fought the word. I’d scare her more than she was already. “To care a great deal for.”
A nerve jumped below her pale eye. That word unnerved her. Good.
I wanted that part of her. The part of her she refused to give for fear of losing herself, and fuck if I wasn’t giving her the same piece of myself.
I tightened my hold around her neck, and slid my thumb along her vein. The Archer answered, rising to the surface—just as I knew he would.
It was his soul she had inside her, and his body she owned.
Fire, blood, wrath. This woman, this Princess had it all. The heat of my breath bounced against her skin. Pale lips parted. White eyes shone.
Power hummed from her body, something primal and feminine—her mouth opened, fangs ready—tasting of bloody, iron-salt lips and soundless screams.
26
Eva
The brush of his lips was warm, but the heat licked between my thighs.
His grip tightened, thumb stretched, pressing against the groove of my vein. My undead heart gave a stutter, and then flared to life with a shuddering boom.
Acheron used me…Death controlled me, but this man—this Guardian—he somehow saved me.
Lub…dub…lub…dub…lub…dub…
His heart echoed, taking me back to that cavern and the terror. He saved me from myself, saved me from Acheron—and then saved me from the mountain.
Thunder slipped from his lips, dragging open my eyes. Silver flames danced in obsidian eyes as he pulled away. His fingers fumbled at his shirt, working the buttons free until the fabric fell.
That dark abyss lingered, stretching the boundaries of my mind.
Lub…dub…lub…dub… It was the Archer who answered the call.
Silver flames beckoned.
Lub…dub…lub…dub…
I could hear them now. Thick, heavy hooves tearing open the ground. Just as he would my heart. But it was his own desires that filled me with fear. This man was everything I never had—he was safe…he was protection, and I was everything he couldn’t control. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” he answered.
One sweep of his hand brushed the hair from my shoulders. Air licked along my spine as his fingers found the tear in my shirt. His wide hand never moved from my throat, calloused thumb rode the vein, finding the edge of my jaw.
I waited for the sting, and the burn as he leaned close, pressing his face into my hair.
The sudden rush of breath filled me, casting dark strands into the air.
His tongue was warm against my neck, trailing lower…and lower.
Lub…dub…lub…dub…lubdub…lubdub…
The pounding of hooves trembled my soul.
This man was everywhere, inside my head, and my heart. The sudden tear of cloth made me flinch, still my ruined top remained in place.
“No one touches you again. Understand me?” He took a slow step, circling to stop behind me. His fingers hardened, nails grew long. The razor sharp talon on his thumb grazed my neck. But it never cut, never scratched. “When he fills your head again, you tell him the Archer will be waiting.”
A shudder raced with his words. There was no air, no space. The walls seemed to close in as I turned my head, pressing his talons into my flesh. “Yo
u knew?”
Pink skin was replaced with a midnight pelt. It was those eyes that pinned me, those eyes that stripped away my pain and saw it all.
His Dragon was so close now, rising above him like a wraith in the shape of a Dragon. I tried to breathe…tried to lick my lips, tried to do anything to keep myself from falling.
He was every bit as I remembered, powerful, terrifying, and utterly devastating.
My skin trembled, goose bumps raced. Death filled my mouth.
I knew it now.
Knew where that midnight power lingered…and it was him. It was always him.
Steel glinted in his gaze, like the razored edge of a perfect blade. I licked my lips, tasting rust and ire and reached out with that dark call finding not fear—but an unmerciful rage of his own.
“You tell him,” the Archer murmured. “The next time he wants to touch something of mine, Death will be waiting.”
The silver flames formed arrows inside my head. Lethal, monstrous arrows that would tear a man in two. The heat of his rage lapped my flesh, reaching deeper.
“And you are mine, Princess.” The throaty growl was hot against my ear.
His claws left my throat, cresting the swell of my breast before they found my spine. His hand was heavy against my back, bending me forward as his other hand dropped away.
The sound of his zipper tore through the air before he pressed against me. He was hot, to my cold, curling his hips to drive his thick girth between the cheeks of my ass.
His soft pelt rubbed my back as he curled an arm around my waist. “Never forget that.”
My thin panties moved under the strain, rubbing the fabric against tender flesh. I knew what he wanted, knew it better than I knew my own soul.
“Now don’t move.” The feral growl filled the air.
His cock pressed deeper, sliding along the crease. Desire hunkered like an animal inside me, one that wanted—one that needed.
Sex was sex, and I’d used my body to find the depths of my pain. But as he pressed his chest against my back and rocked his hips, I knew this time it was something more.
