blood 03 - blood chosen

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “Okay,” Jason said as his body began to quake. The threat to Julia was over, and his body began to flow back into his human form. To Julia it almost looked like melting candle wax of red bleeding to human flesh. Or what passed for human.

  Jason gave a deep shudder, swaying a little then his eyes went back to hers as he took great, steadying breaths. Just hazel, no longer the spinning green of his half-wolf form.

  When he could speak he asked, “What the hell is going on?”

  Julia told him, his glare including William in the conversation.

  As she spoke, Julia watched Jason's expression shut down more and more until the last words fell from her mouth. The silence was deafening inside a foyer that had always felt large but was now choked with her awkward announcement.

  Jason smirked again. An expression Julia was getting used to and not liking in the least. She hated to see it back on his face. “So,” he began, pegging a finger at first Scott then William, “this supernatural bullshit has been explained to me. They've tried to make it seem reasonable...”

  “They?” William asked, brow cocked.

  “The pack... drinker,” Jason answered shortly.

  “Just clarifying, dog.”

  Jason's eyes narrowed on William, “Wanna go?”

  William said nothing but his face said it all, his lips pulling back from fangs which lengthened as Julia watched.

  God, they never quit. She couldn't believe Scott thought to suggest it. She shot a glance his way and Julia had a thought; maybe.... “You meant for them to go at it...” she accused Scott and he had the grace to look vaguely embarrassed.

  “It has its upside,” Scott replied hopefully.

  “He thinks we're a couple of slack jaws who will pummel each other into meat tenderizer and then he’d get Julia,” Jason reasoned.

  Scott didn't like the way Caldwell worked through things so well.

  “He already has me,” Julia reminded Jason, her voice quiet. Hating to say it, needing to say it.

  Jason gave her a withering look. “Wrong, babe. You are still my wife, my lawful wife.”

  Everyone was quiet at this pronouncement.

  Julia said nothing. There was nothing she could say.

  “If it was explained to you, you wouldn't say that. Those human laws and cultural traditions do not apply to the supes,” Michael said nonchalantly.

  Jason looked at him and Michael threw his hands up. “Remember about the shit... that's all I'm saying.” Julia felt her lips twitch as Jen gave a small chuckle. Julia was thankful for his intercession.

  “I don't give a good goddamned who they apply to,” his eyes went to Julia's and he pointed a finger in her face, his words for everyone and anyone. “She was my wife, she married me. She belongs to me.”

  “I belong to Scott now,” Julia said, but not like she was entirely sure. Or, that it was entirely what she wanted.

  Jason laughed from his gut, throwing his head back. “Yeah, you sound like you're so on board.” He looked at the gathered, taking stock of the five of the Combatant, Scott's siblings, William and the other assorted supernaturals in attendance. “You all have your collective titties in a twist because for your 'Queen',” he dropped fingers from his airquotes, “to really stop these turf wars...”

  “They are more wars of dominance than territory,” Marcus clarified.

  Jason gave an angry lift of his shoulders whatever, that move said, then continued, “You call the Were—dogs, you guys are the ones peeing in every corner that you can and hiding behind what you think is superior ideology by using Julia as a shield.” He put his hands on his hips and snorted in disgust. “You think you're protecting her,” he used his palm to indicate a silent Julia. “You're a bunch of users.” Julia flinched and his eyes roamed the group, spending a few seconds longer on both Scott and William. “No,” Jason continued in a low voice, “I'm way past indifference... way past rationalizing my behavior.” He stood there, legs spread, arms folded over his chest. “I don't need to share what's mine, but neither did I say I wanted her anymore...” his eyes moved up and down Julia like she was beneath him and she felt stripped bare, vulnerable and lesser... diminished.

  “I'm sure as hell not going to share her to what?” he threw up his hands, palms out, “unite these messed up groups?” He made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat, it came out like a stunted laugh.

  “I haven't forgotten who I am,” Jason said, his hand going to his pec, thumb pressing deeply into the muscles of his bare chest as tattered denim barely clung to his lower body, a semblance of modesty in place. “She has,” he said, pointing a finger at Julia and she lost it.

  It was the last accusation of how awful, incompetent, ungracious, and uncaring she intended to put up with. His rant hit low and deep, tearing something apart inside her that she didn't know she had.

  Julia strode to Jason, five feet four to his six feet two and open-palmed slapped him without breaking stride. The ringing of her flesh on his filled the silence with the sharp echo of her anger. It made her palm burn and her wrist ache. “Don't you tell me how wrong I am, how much I suck, and how you don't give a shit about me. I get it.” Julia's eyes struck his like a patch of searing sunlight. “Oh and... FYI, I didn't ask for this.” Her lip trembled with the need to cry and Julia held back, biting the inside of her lip to do it.

  Jason's eyes blazed as he reclaimed the stride she'd given up, looming above her, the imprint of her palm an angry smear of red on his face.

  Julia was simply too pissed to be scared, her anger at everything over the past two years was coming to an ugly head. Jason put a tender hand on her skull, smoothing over her hair from the crown to the soft roundness before it dipped to her spine. “I hate you, Jules,” Jason whispered as he began to pull her closer and she nodded, tears rolling despite the blood that filled her mouth to stop it.

  “I know,” she replied softly.

  He wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her, his breath sucking in as that drop of blood inside her mouth burst between them like a gem of inception. His lips moved away from her mouth as he pressed soft kisses all over her face and Julia gasped and cried, clinging to him and kissing him back. Her hands moved up to link together around his neck and he buried his face into her neck, half picking her up.

  “I love you,” Jason said against her neck before he allowed himself to be torn away by Scott.

  Julia watched that slice of vulnerability race like a fleeting cloud across his face. “I know,” Julia whispered for only his ears to hear.

  Brendan burst back into the parlor, taking one look between Julia and Jason as Michael piped in with a laugh, “Good timing- mucho awkward, bro.”

  “Right,” he said, dismissing the obvious and looked at a grim Marcus. “We've got another problem.”

  The Combatant that remained inside came forward.

  “We've got a sighting of the rogue Were...”

  Tony, Julia thought and couldn't hold in the shudder.

  Brendan looked to Scott, “and Jacqueline.”

  Scott shrugged, his eyes still on Jason, his possessive nature in full throttle. He'd wanted to pry Caldwell's toenails off with a set of pliers.

  Slowly.

  He didn't care if the earth opened up and swallowed that conniving bio-mom of his. In fact, he'd welcome it. Sometimes Scott had mixed feelings about her but that wasn't happening right now. “Yeah?” he asked in terse question.

  “Don't shoot the messenger,” Brendan said and Scott took a deep breath. Walking over to Julia, he put his arms around her shoulders, feeling the tenseness seep out of her. He caught sight of Caldwell's expression. It mimicked his own, hard and tight.

  Scott lifted his chin at Jason, dismissing the intimacy he'd just witnessed. He knew he couldn't have it both ways. Julia knew the truth. She had tough decisions to make and he wasn't certain he could help her. Judging by what he'd seen between her and Caldwell, he had his doubts. It was obvious to everyone but Caldwell—that
he was still in love with her. Scott knew about deep denial, did he ever. “What can you tell us about this rogue?”

  “Okay, so we're not gonna talk about the pink elephant in the room?” Jason asked, flicking his cool eyes in Julia's direction.

  Scott shook his head. “No, one disaster at a time. First, we eliminate the threat, then we address...

  “The weirdness,” Michael said and Marcus frowned.

  “It's not weird,” Jen began and everyone looked at her. “Well kinda but really, it's about our futures... and what's right for everyone.”

  No one said the obvious: that what might be the right choice for most, would still hurt some.

  “Anyway,” Brendan said in a drawl, “Scott's right, we need to attend to this...” he waffled his hand back and forth...

  “Security breach,” Victor said, his bright eyes were on Jason like a hawk's.

  “Yeah, what he said,” Michael said and Julia actually watched Marcus roll his eyes and suppressed a giggle in the middle of everything that was happening. Michael saw her small smile and tipped an imaginary hat their way.

  “Scott and the rest of the Combatant will eliminate the threat,” Marcus said.

  Scott whipped around, his arm falling away from Julia in reactionary protest. “Victor will remain here, along with the vampire and Were.”

  Scott's expression was thunder contained. “You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Temper,” Marcus warned. “I am still the leader of Region One. We cannot have the Rare One outside our fortress.”

  “It is not as fortified as you suppose,” William said in a dry voice. Marcus turned to look at him, a staring contest no one would win.

  “True, vampire,” Marcus conceded after several seconds of awkward silence passed.

  “I am called William.”

  Marcus nodded and returned, “Marcus.”

  “Isn't this all amicable and everything,” Jason began, “but you don't know what you're getting into with Tony. I don't know this Jacqueline...”

  “Bitch-on-wheels,” Jen said then quickly looked at Scott. “No offense.”

  “None taken, I want her head on a lance for what she did to Julia,” Scott replied.

  “She is my sovereign,” Victor answered, his voice holding his anger like a warm bath.

  Scott shook his head. “No, it's Julia now. If you can't make the switch, pal, you're not staying here. There can only be one Queen.” Scott's eyes pegged his father's. “In fact, I am the natural choice. Her blood has chosen mine.”

  Marcus nodded. “That is true. But you can't take a breath around the others without a fight ensuing.”

  “Can you blame me?” Scott asked Marcus, incredulous.

  “No,” Marcus said simply. “That is why you must go.”

  “Julia knows what choices lay before her. She does not need her soulmate here to cloud the issue. Let her make a clear decision, without fear of reprisal, my eldest.”

  Scott stood, a hard line of muscle and anger, so pissed he could hardly breathe. His eyes lifted and were met by hers. He could feel Julia's heartbeat.

  It was his own.

  “What if the Were tries to hurt her again?” Scott asked like it was the most obvious threat.

  Marcus gave a direct look at Jason. “It didn't look like you were hurting her a few minutes ago, yes?”

  Jason gave a sharp exhale, showing Marcus his back. “No,” he said in an explosive word.

  “The Were will burn if he tries to harm her,” Victor said softly.

  Jason slowly turned, cocking his head to the side as a muscle jumped in his jaw. “What does that mean?”

  “He's a Boiler,” Scott said, his voice happier than it should have been.

  Jason looked at the others as Michael whistled low. “That'll do it.”

  Victor gave a delicate sniff. Marcus looked suitably impressed.

  “A dangerous talent, Combatant,” Marcus noted.

  “Yeah, internal combustion squared...” Michael added and Scott gave him a look.

  “Okay, give it up...” Jason said in exasperation.

  “I have the Flame of Blood talent.”

  “What the hell?”

  “He can make your blood boil inside of your body. Y'know, human torch time.” Michael smiled, pleased with himself.

  Jason's face showed shock. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you control it?” he pressed.

  Victor gave an amused chuckle. “I have a high degree of finesse.”

  “Huh,” Jason said, giving Victor a considering look.

  “Maybe you're not so fast... after all, they tell me I'm a red. We're special. Capable... lightning quick.”

  “Yes,” Victor agreed, nodding at Jason. He narrowed his eyes. “Do not test me in this.”

  Jason's stare didn't drop. “Don't interfere,” he returned.

  “Don't think this is a great idea, Dad,” Scott said.

  “I will moderate,” William added, his pale gray eyes honest.

  Julia rolled her eyes. “I think I'll stay in my room.” All eyes went to her. “Just call me after you're done duking it out.”

  Brendan looked at Julia with more than a little empathy. Her heart beat faster at that expression. Reading any flavor of grief was second nature to her. “What?”

  Brendan hesitated, the least volatile of the siblings and even she could see he didn't want to give further news. “There was another sighting...”

  “Who?”

  Silence edged in like heavy air, constricting her chest.

  Julia strode to him, her heavy hair a swinging weight between her shoulder blades. She felt like she was moving through mud. “Cyn?” Her eyes widened in expectant hope, her breathing quickened.

  He nodded.

  Julia sighed, tears of relief burning her eyelids. It was nice to have tears that weren't linked with sadness for once.

  “And Adrianna... from your pack,” Brendan said, looking at Jason. “Looks like Tony was a part of it. And now a Were from the other den has pursued them all.” He looked at everyone. “The scarred one,” he added.

  Julia and Jason looked at each other.

  The news just kept getting better and better.

  Out of the frying pan and right back into the fire, Julia thought.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Were

  Slash watched from his spectator's view on the opposite side as the werewolves came into view with his usual trepidation. However, in moments, aided by the change of the wind's direction he'd be exposed.

  There was only one that he didn't know.

  His Packmaster and Alan were present but they had been easy to scent.

  As were Adi and the newest of Singer ancestry, Cynthia.

  He stepped out from the denseness of the trees, like an oasis of fur and wildness, a lone island as Were. The others turned to Slash as one, in his half-wolf form. His nose swung to the newcomer, a soft growl slipping out through his teeth as Slash trotted to where the females stood. The newcomer smelled as he did: red.

  His wolf eyes saw all, his nose warned, alerted and simultaneously enlightened him of the genetic makeup that matched his own. Slash took note of the ticking flesh of the females elevated heartbeats underneath the delicate skin of their throats, though he didn't allow his thoughts to dwell on Adi. For in this moment, circling the new Were was primary.

  It did not matter that his Packmaster and Alan were in close company.

  Slash was autonomous for a reason. There was something thrilling and natural about remaining in the background, coming when needed, not drawing attention to oneself. It had always served him well in the past.

  Now he must know if the new Were was a threat.

  “Slash,” Alan greeted him in the gravely rumble that all male Were possessed while in between.

  Slash gave an awkward nod with his snout. He was not a believer in changing to the lesser shape or his human form when there was an unfamiliar.

  �
�It's okay,” Cynthia said in a low voice. “I know him.”

  Slash gave a low growl at her opinion, dismissing her. What could a Singer possibly know with their dulled senses? If she were not a Tracker, her observations and knowledge couldn't help him.

  But it was Adi who spoke, “It's okay, Slash,” she said, approaching him warily. The new Were suddenly moved forward and Lawrence gave a shrill half-bark of reprimand. “Don't!” he said but it came out like a hoarse cough, a negative shouted from the guttural depths of a throat no longer human but somewhere in the middle.

  Slash was suddenly in front of Adi, his large head low to the ground, every fang in full relief.

  Truman backed off, his eyes on the female that stood beside the Were's flank. There was a primal alert that was ringing a warning deep within Karl. He flicked his eyes to Cynthia Adams and knew that she was hanging on by a thread. He backed away and the other Were relaxed infinitesimally. The female Were, who was in human form, had her hand buried in the luxurious multi-colored fur of the one who faced off with him.

  Was she his? Karl's wolf wondered, the thought as alien to him as his new form. It didn't matter, this whole scenario just got stranger and stranger. Days before, a night before, he'd been a cop.

  Now he was one of them. Thinking like them. Posturing like them.

  The two natures were superimposed in a discordant layering on his psyche and Truman felt almost ill with the vertigo of it. He'd adapt, he always did. Or he hoped he'd adapt. Karl thought there was not a lot of patience from the Were with newcomers. Just a feelin'.

  “Slash,” Lawrence said, “Back down... he is a convert.”

  Slash straightened, reluctantly drawing away from the hand that offered only friendship and could never be more. He knew that he now matched the form of the two from his pack and... the new one.

  A red.

  Slash and the new Were gazed at each other from perhaps twenty feet away. “Welcome,” Slash said.

  “Some hospitality... thought you were gonna bust my gonads, pal,” Truman said in a light gravely tone.

  Slash's sudden grin hung strangely on his in between shape, it never translated the full range of human expressions he would be capable of in full human form. Not that Slash thought much of showing emotion. Ever. It was overrated.