With my arms around his neck, I took a deep breath. “Yes,” I replied, unsure of exactly what I was agreeing to, but hoping that it was as good as what I'd just experienced.
He wrapped his hands under my thighs, supporting my weight and taking control. I squeezed my legs around his back, holding myself as close to his chest as I could. In a single motion, he lifted my hips, teasing my swollen clit against the rough hair on his hard abs. Inching slowly, he slid inside. His cock was huge, stretching me as it pushed in deep. The pressure was wonderfully intense, and I dug my nails into his back. With an approving growl, he lifted me again, then lowered me once more. I sank deeper than before. I gasped as the last inch pushed me past what I could take. The pressure was too much. And I loved it.
My breasts rubbed against his chest as he moved me up and down his length. I held tight to him as he controlled everything, each stroke faster and harder than the last. Tall grass swayed in the breeze, and brushed my shoulders. The rough hair on his chin scratched my neck, as pleasure built once again in my core. I gasped for breath and squeezed my arms and legs around Bennet as I let go. His muscles tensed, and shoulders squared. And for the first time, I wasn’t the only one making noise. A single grunt came from Bennet as I moaned, and we climaxed together. And we were one. Ecstasy washed over me, as I clung to him. More intense than before, my tunnel tightened around his massive cock, and heat radiated through me. Aftershocks continued, as I settled down on his lap, and laid my head on his shoulder.
“That was…you are…wow,” was all I managed between ragged breaths.
A gentle buzz sounded from Bennet’s discarded pants. The vibrations of his phone.
“Go ahead,” I gasped, without moving from my place on his lap. With as exhausted as I felt, Bennet seemed unaffected by the energy we’d just expended. If anything, he seemed more himself than before. He brushed the hair from my face and smiled down at me. There was no sweat on his cool skin, no ragged breathing, no breath at all. Being a vampire had its benefits.
“It’s not important,” Bennet said, looking down at me with gorgeous brown eyes and a gentle smile that was just for me.
“You don’t know that,” I said.
“Nothing’s as important as this.”
That made me smile too, though the phone continued to buzz. As soon as it stopped, it started once again. It reminded me of the way I’d called for Ashley just hours before. “Even so, you should answer,” I said. And just like that, our moment of sanctuary was over.
“As you wish.” Bennet lifted me gently from his lap and set me on the ground beside him. I watched his muscles flex as he rose, and admired the strength of his body. That and the perfect, squeezable shape of his ass. When he turned back to me, I got my first good look at the black ink on his chest. The shape was all too familiar, and again I was filled with questions. His tattoo was a wolf—a swirl of thick black lines suggesting the silhouette, yet unmistakable.
“Finally,” the voice on the phone said. Being a shifter had its benefits too—like enhanced hearing. Bennet’s eyes remained on me, as I sat up.
“What do you want?” Bennet asked the man over the line.
“Tell me you have the wolf.”
Bennet said nothing.
“Bennet,” the man yelled, “tell me you have the fucking wolf.” Then I recognized the voice. It was Jack the Freaking Ripper. Walter.
“Why?” Bennet asked.
“It’s Charlie. The warehouse Yeke sent us to was a fucking massacre. They used some kind of poison. Charlie won’t wake.” The blond one that Ashley liked, the one that had bitten her. “I fed him, but he’s only getting worse.”
There was a sadness in Bennet’s eyes. He cared about Charlie.
I picked up my pants, and rose to my feet. “If I can,” I said. “I’ll help.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Bennet
As vampire-movie-trope-inspired, cliched shit holes went, the small, rundown warehouse turned living space was exactly what was expected. Black walls were accented with black shelves of overused, black, pillar candles, poorly crafted replica weaponry, and upside-down crosses. Those, too, were painted black.
Locating the place would have been easy, even without the address. The stink of death and blood hung heavy in the air, potent enough to hit me before I had entered the building. Inside, it was worse.
Bodies laid scattered across the thick, black shag carpet and over exposed concrete. There were more than the guards that had attacked me, though I recognized those four amongst the carnage. Seven more looked like they too were Yeke’s men. Two others appeared to blend into the scenery, misguided stereotypes of what our kind represented. The rest were human and thrall. All were torn to shreds by blades and fangs.
Hannah followed behind me, hand over her mouth as she scanned the graphic scene. The stench was likely harder for her to stomach than it was for me.
“What happened here?” Hannah asked, concern and disgust lining her face.
“A bloodbath,” I replied. “This is the creation place of the thrall.”
“And that somehow explains this?” Hannah asked. “It looks like we know what happened to the guys that chased me. They came here. But who are the rest of these-” Hannah stopped mid-sentence, spotting my brother halfway across the room.
He didn't look much better off than the bodies scattered around the floor. His cheeks were hollow, even for him. His hat was missing, revealing his messy, brown hair. And his white, collared shirt was sliced to shreds and stained a deep shade of red.
Hannah stiffened as he approached, his unblinking gaze set intently upon her.
“Come,” Walter said, and reached for Hannah. Concern lined his face, an expression I had seen him wear only once before. Hannah recoiled.
I stepped between them, and met my brother’s desperate, black eyes. “Where is he?” I asked.
He stared at me, unmoving, as if questioning my action. The line had been drawn the moment I’d first laid eyes on Hannah. She was mine to protect. “This had better work,” Walter said, then turned and led us to the corner of the large room. He swept a dark curtain to the side, and revealed his progeny on the bed.
Charlie’s skin was drained of its fair, peachy hue. What remained was a sickly, unnatural shade of green. His blond hair was crusted red, and the cuts on his neck and chest ran deep. There was a quality to Charlie, something that reminded me of Harry, the boy from the mine. It was his smile. That cheery grin was gone as Charlie teetered on the brink of death.
Though I hoped she could save him, I questioned Hannah’s ability to help for the first time since Walter had called. Shifter blood was strong in its ability to heal, but even that strength must have limits.
“Back away,” Hannah said to Walter, staring daggers into him. He looked to his progeny, then to me. Then he took a step back, beside a human girl I hadn’t noticed. She was curled up against the wall beside the bed, rocking back and forth as she held tight to her knees. Her lips moved, though she made no sound. But the bandage on her neck told me that the girl was Walter’s first attempt to fix Charlie. The fact that she wasn’t dead from being completely drained showed he had used more restraint than I’d expect from him.
Hannah looked at the girl, then to Walter, before she climbed up onto the black comforter next to Charlie. Her scowl showed the hatred she carried for my brother. All of which he deserved. “Let her go,” Hannah said.
“Fix him and she’s free,” Walter replied.
“You want me to heal him? Let her go,” Hannah said.
“You will feed him, or I will make you,” Walter replied. His fangs drew, and his eyes burned with fire.
“Hannah,” I said, and touched her arm. The last thing we needed was to fight amongst ourselves. Walter would only be pushed so far. The girl had to stay. “You do this. Then I’ll make sure he lets her go.”
Hannah’s gaze remained on Walter, a battle of wills we couldn’t afford. But before I said another word, she reache
d for my belt, and slid the blade from my hip.
“After this,” Hannah said, and sliced her arm without flinching, “all three of you are going to take turns buying me dinners.”
“Food?” Walter snorted. “You’re thinking about food?”
Hannah held her arm over Charlie’s mouth, opening it with the other hand. “Chicken Marsala. Crab cakes—the ones from that place that overlooks the harbor. Oh and-”
“Focus on the life you're supposed to be saving,” Walter growled.
“Larry’s,” I said. “The place with the best crab cakes is Larry’s.”
“Oh great,” Walter said. “Just go along with her. What the hell is wrong with you? What happened to you?”
“Yeah,” Hannah said. “Larry’s. And look.” Hannah turned her attention to Walter. “Before today I’d never had to share with anyone,” Hannah said. “All of this sweet life juice you’re so eager to take was just for me. After feeding two of you, I could use a recharge. And I think you should cut me some slack. Because right now I am saving him.”
She was right. The unnatural green had faded from Charlie’s skin, replaced by a faint rosy hue. His teeth clenched her wrist, while his eyes remained closed. Though she was doing exactly what we needed her to do, I hated the pain that showed on her tight lips, on the furrow of her brow. And selfishly I realized that I wanted to shield her from that. And that I didn't like to share.
Saving Charlie had cost Hannah, and I hated that. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes dark. The color faded from her face. “Enough,” I said, and grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed. With a quick pull, the case was torn in half. I pulled Charlie's jaw from her arm, and used the fabric to bandage her wound and prevent further injury.
“She’s not done,” Walter growled, stepping too close to Hannah.
“She is,” I said. “Use her for the rest. Hannah’s cleansed the poison, just look at him.”
“You said she could go,” Hannah said, her eyes glistening with exhaustion and concern.
“She will,” I agreed.
Walter examined Charlie, then turned to the brunette curled up on the floor. “Rise,” he said. She did as she was bid, as any human would when under the influence of our kind. “Sit.” She did. He took her arm and tore the flesh with his fangs. Tears streamed down the girl’s cheeks, but she did not fight him. Walter placed the girl’s arm over Charlie’s lips and walked across the room, where he waited and paced.
I lifted the girl’s chin and looked into her eyes. “You will remain for five minutes. Then you will walk home and forget what happened. Instead, you will remember a night of dancing, with too much to drink. No one harmed you, and you had fun.”
“Yes,” the girl said.
“Good,” I replied. Then I turned to Hannah, to find she’d left the bed. Across the room, next to the fridge, she sat over the body of one of the young, goth vampires. I rose from the bed and went to her.
Hannah looked up at me, with a glitter-coated phone in her hand. “Where is she?” she asked. The pain on her face was worse than when she’d been injured, when she’d been angry. Something was wrong. Something new.
“Who?” I asked.
“Ashley,” Hannah said. “This is her phone. And this-” She shoved the body on the floor, as if he could feel it. “This is Scott, her boyfriend.”
“Your friend may have been here,” I agreed, “but she’s not now.” I'd examined the bodies well enough at a glance to know that Hannah's friend was not among them. Hannah rose to her feet and scanned the room, checking the faces of every corpse. “Hannah,” I said. “She’s not here.”
“You-” Hannah pointed at Walter. “You were here. Where is she? The blond girl with the golden hair and big smile? What happened to her?”
“She was taken,” Walter said with a shrug. “But none of this is on me. This is all on you. The two of you.”
“What?” Hannah asked, voice raised.
“Charlie and I were here on our mission, just like your boyfriend was sent to do his. We came to clear the building of thrall, and eradicate their creator. We did our job.”
“Scott...”
“That one,” Walter looked down at the frail, dead vampire wearing heavy, black makeup, “is responsible for the creation of the thrall,” Walter said.
I could see the wheels turning in Hannah's head. “It all makes sense, the weird 'vampires' that Ashley had mentioned. They weren't pretending. They were thrall. And Scott really was a vampire this whole time?” She looked to Walter, this time without hatred, only questions. “And you didn't hurt my friend?”
“We would have glamored the humans,” Walter said. “Maybe fed first.” This time he smiled, the unnerving grin that showed his ferocity. And his fangs. “But you are still alive,” Walter said. “And you're not supposed to be. So the order was declared. Death to the Ulfhednar bloodline.”
Hannah turned to me. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“The King told me to kill you,” I admitted. “It was only a matter of time before he did. I was trying to meet you, to warn you, to protect you when-”
“Yeah,” Hannah said. “That's when you were attacked.” She looked down at the phone in her hands. “And Ulfhead... that's all three of you?”
“Ulfhednar. Wolf-skin,” I said. “The name given to our sire.”
“The tattoo,” Hannah said.
“Yes,” I replied. “It's the symbol of our bloodline. We all three bear the mark.”
“So does Tyr,” Walter said. I nodded.
The brunette that had been feeding Charlie rose from the bed and walked out the door, though no one paid her a second thought.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Hannah asked. “Where was Ashley taken? Who took her? How do we get her back?”
“We?” Walter asked.
“I say we get the hell out of town.” The voice was Charlie’s. We all turned, and found the young vamp propped up on his elbow. He looked well, given the circumstances. “It’s a big world out there, and I would rather see it than die here for your choice. No offense.”
“I just saved your life,” Hannah said. “You don’t get… you don’t get to…”
Her eyelids slid shut, and her legs buckled. I ran to her, and caught her in my arms before she collapsed to the floor. Holding the most precious gift either of my lives had ever given me, I would not let her go.
“This isn’t just about some human girl or this city. This is about revenge,” I said. “Our sire rots at the bottom of the sea while that bastard sleeps in his bed. I won’t be cast from my home or made to suffer his tyranny another minute. I seek justice. Vengeance. Yeke must die for his crimes. His reign ends now.”
“My vote stands,” Charlie said. “I’m not ready to die. Again. For real.”
I turned to Walter. Everything hinged on his opinion. I could not do this without him.
His lips turned up into a hideous grin. “You had me at revenge.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hannah
My insides twisted in knots, a jumble of sharp pain and boiling acid. I forced my heavy eyelids open, and found a black coat balled beneath my cheek. And a packed dirt floor was my bed. With a labored roll, I twisted from my side onto my back, and stretched my stiff, aching muscles. Everything hurt, but nothing as much as my head and my stomach.
“Here,” the voice was Bennet’s. His face was a blur, just like everything else, but I was sure that it was him. I tried to sit up, and found the world around me spinning.
A hand held gently to the back of my neck, and a cool glass pressed against my lips. The moisture of the water eased the cracked skin I hadn’t yet realized was dry, and my sore, parched throat. With both hands on the glass, I inhaled every drop.
My vision came into focus, and I realized we were no longer in Scott’s warehouse. The air was cold and damp, the space dark. So dark that anyone without supernatural vision would see only black. The ceiling was low and uneven, and the whole place smelled
like damp earth. We were underground.
Bennet was by my side, face lined with concern. Across the small room were his allies, his family. If they really intended on helping me rescue Ashley, I’d need to keep my hatred for Walter in check. And for all of our sakes, he sure as hell needed to be done considering me a snack.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Underground,” Walter said, from across the room where he leaned against the dirt wall.
“Yeah,” I said. “I got that.” Dick. Then I turned to Bennet.
“We’re safe,” he said, which was about as helpful as Walter’s response.
My stomach growled, loud enough for all to hear. Then Charlie tossed me a paper-wrapped ball. It crinkled in my hands as I caught it. The smell was divine—savory, beefy goodness. “Mmmmmm.” I couldn’t help but express my appreciation for the fast-food burger as I sank my teeth into the juicy layers. It was nothing special, but after feeding Bennet, then Charlie, then having to heal myself, I was famished. At that point, the creamy American cheese, tangy ketchup, and greasy meat were heaven.
“It’s not that good,” Charlie said, smiling at me from his place next to Walter. He looked a lot better than when I'd seen him last. They all did. “I used to eat that stuff all the time when, you know, I ate food.”
“So you don’t eat anymore, ever?” I asked.
“Boyfriend didn’t tell you much, did he?” Walter asked, eyeing Bennet.
“We can eat food if we’re required to for social camouflage,” Bennet said. “We just can’t taste it.”
“That sucks,” I said. I couldn't imagine life without chocolate.
“I don’t miss it,” Bennet said.
“I do,” said Charlie, eyeing my burger like it was made of diamond. I shoved the last bit in my mouth, protecting my prize.
“It will pass,” Walter said.
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “Great.”
“So you guys still haven’t given me a real answer,” I said, feeling stronger by the minute. “Where are we? And how are we supposed to save Ashley? And don’t tell me we’re running. Because I am not leaving her.”
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