blood 03 - blood chosen

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  It was not an easy thing to sneak up on a pack of Were... or any supernaturals.

  It was only himself and Emmanuel of the Northwestern pack that had sought out Tony and Jacqueline. Sadly, his duties seemed dim when compared to Julia's abandonment at the Region One compound. Scott understood that he'd be an absolute obstacle if he were there. But no amount of intellectual justification could take away his primal need to be with his soulmate, to dwell on the two males that would secure her immortality, her reign... that he'd share her with if Julia chose it.

  It was untenable.

  Yet... the Combatant in him liked it. The soulmate did not. If he had not been one or the other, maybe it could've been easier for him. But he was.

  “They know that we arrive,” Emmanuel commented as they wove through the thinning forest that rolled smoothly into an open glen. Scott gave him a considering look. He liked the Were. Even though war and strife had punctuated over a century of conflict, Julia's presence had brought an uneasy, albeit temporary, alliance to the groups. Securing William's cooperation for the Southeastern coven had been a boon. He was their new leader by default now that he'd killed Merlin, who had been a cruel enemy of the Singers.

  There was hope. But there was also uncertainty. Scott did badly with living in limbo.

  They moved as one to where the Were and Singer stood. Scott released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when he laid eyes on Cynthia. It'd wreck Julia even more to have her one friend from before hurt... or worse.

  How they came to escape Tony was a story Scott needed to hear.

  “Packmaster,” Manny said by way of greeting and Scott moved to a flanking position, the new red wolf and one with a lightning strike of a scar across his face tracked his progress. Scott couldn't remember his name. Buck, he thought. No, that wasn't it.

  “Emmanuel. Please, regale us with tales,” Lawrence enthused with a come hither hand gesture.

  Manny sighed then looked at the Singer female and swallowed. She looked damaged. He lifted his nose, dull in his human form but much better than human. He scented blood, bruises, and sweat motivated by adrenaline. He surmised she'd done much to escape Tony.

  “Tony is rogue,” Manny began with Scott warily watching the two Weres, who stood like wary sentinels beside the Packmaster. The quiet Were stood slightly behind the others.

  “Well that's a no shit, Manny,” Adi exclaimed as Cyn hid a smile. Adi was amazing at picking up only the colorful vocabulary, Cynthia noticed.

  Manny's eyes narrowed. “I fully anticipated having to trade my life for yours if it came to that, Adrianna,” he stated as a reminder. His deep eyes looked into hers and shame caused her gaze to fall to the forest floor, a rare event.

  “I'm sorry... but that Singer bitch...” Adi's eyes swept up to Scott's in hesitation and when he shrugged, she went on. “Jackie-baby was working with him. And, she's a telekinetic, so she swarmed my ass and I went into a free fall in a full sprint.”

  Ah... that was why the Singer was so battered, Manny thought. Taking a rolling tumble off a werewolf at top speed will bang a person up.

  Adi narrowed her gaze on Manny. “I see what you're thinking. I didn't let her go, I took the impact.”

  Manny felt his brows rise. Adriana was harder on herself in a way he could never be. It would have been a certain death if Adi had not taken the brunt of the fall. “Where are they now?”

  Cynthia shrugged then gave a weary smile. “I know it shouldn't be funny, but it's funnier than hell: we escaped because they were fighting,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest and Emmanuel fought not looking at her as a female. He found himself losing that battle. Damn.

  Scott gave a derisive snort. “Figures.”

  “What the hell am I missing, boys?” Truman asked.

  Scott looked uncomfortable, then plowed forward. “My biological mother is Jacqueline, ruling monarch of Region Two.”

  All fell silent.

  Finally, Truman shattered the silence, “No shit?”

  Scott kicked his chin up. “Obviously, wolf... I can't help who I'm related too. She tried to kill Julia through poison...”

  “Caldwell?” Truman asked, stunned.

  He nodded. “Has anyone told him what's going on?”

  Adi raised her hand and Slash, who had remained silent all this time said, “Stories can be told later. Because,” he paused, the brutal mark of his face rippling with his expressions, “Tony and Jacqueline have found each other. And they will be looking to seek vengeance... gain power and control.”

  The usual reasons people are rotten. “Spoken like a soldier,” Cynthia commented thoughtfully.

  Alan looked at his packmate. “That is all that Slash is.”

  Adi looked at Slash, who she'd always thought was a hottie male and didn't agree; he was more than just a soldier. Her brown eyes met his from the space that was so near but yet so far and she sighed. The simple truth was he was a good man. A good Were. Built like the rest of the Were, six and a half feet plus, with chestnut hair in the right light and pure black in the darkness. It begged to be swept off his brow that held eyes that were a slate blue, deepening to gray when he was angry, Adi knew. Her gaze shifted to the scar that bisected his face and Adi remembered when she'd asked him if she could touch it when she was a whelp and now she was sorry for that because he was self-conscious of it. She could close her eyes and remember the flat, smooth texture as it carved its way across his face. She'd been just old enough not to ask how it happened. If only he knew Adi never saw it; it was a part of who he was, it was just Slash. Sometimes Adi would fantasize that she could be with a warrior like him. But because of what had happened between Lacey and Tony, cross-den mating was forbidden.

  Adi had never known the reason but now that she did, her hatred for Tony burned more brightly than before.

  *

  Slash

  Slash drew upon his inner strength, curtailing his relief in finding Adrianna unharmed. He wasn't going to let his emotional bullshit leak all over the top of her. He noticed her studying him and when he felt the intensity of her gaze on his scar, he turned away from that burning stare. He'd felt the heat to his marrow and gave himself a mental shake. He knew what his face looked like. “Let us return to the compound. I thought it would be a rescue mission but now that Cynthia and Adrianna are out of harm's way, we should move to a more secure location.”

  Lawrence lifted a palm in pause. “We are not a number that can defend if Region One doesn't receive us with open arms.”

  The group became quiet and Scott stepped forward. “I can vouch for Manny and Slash.” He jerked a thumb at Truman and Lawrence. “I don't know the red and Lawrence's den has never been on friendly terms with Region One until most recently.”

  Lawrence bowed his head. Finally he lifted it, locking gazes with Scott. “I think the time has come for us to suspend our rancor and engage in a treaty. There is now hope that our three species may coexist.”

  Scott raised a brow.

  “Word has made way that there needs to be one male of each to offer true unity and immortality to your Rare One through a true binding.” His hands came together at the center of his body, lacing tightly. The symbolism wasn't lost on Scott nor was the fact that damn, gossip traveled fast. Lawrence's words had been mild, but what he said made Scott want to tear off his head and shit down his throat. The burn was: Lawrence was right. Julia would spend the rest of her life, however long that may be, under threat of insurgence. But, if she could just align with fang, claw and whatever other supe, she would have everything. He didn't like the method but the result made his Combatant's heart beat solidly and without fear. The meld was another story. The proposal of the three husbands went against the very fiber of their meld.

  Adi spoke before Scott could respond and maybe... that was a good thing. In fact, he thought, it was. “What about that dick hole, Tony?”

  Slash grinned, he couldn't help himself, she was persistent as hell. It's what was so int
riguing about an alpha female. Feminine packaging encased a core of steel. At least, that's what he thought she was made of: silk covered steel. His eyes moved over her in a visual caress then slid away before she was aware.

  “Yes... what about him.” Cyn turned to Adi. “Of course, you're assuming he has one?”

  Adi laughed. “Yeah, ya got me there.”

  “Girls,” Truman said. They both turned to him. “Let's get back as...” He looked at Slash. “...the enforcer suggests and we'll think of a way to dominate his ass.”

  Adi's fist rose in the air. “And that bitch he's with.”

  Scott said nothing because there was nothing to add. His bio-Mom was a bitch. A conniving, murderous, greedy soul who would be better off dead.

  Scott didn't know why it hurt to feel that way. It did. Even with her attempt on Julia's life, Jacqueline was technically his mother.

  It sucked gorilla balls.

  *

  Jacqueline

  “This is fucking idiotic,” Tony said.

  Jacqueline gave him a condescending look and murmured. “If you have not ascertained my need for self-preservation at this point, you're even more intellectually impaired than I imagined.”

  “Listen bitch...” Tony began and became short of breath. His wide eyes rolled to hers.

  “You are a slow learner, Were.”

  Jacqueline had him by the short hairs and she knew it.

  “Sorry,” he squeaked out. Goddamn... how he wanted her... his mouth salivated with it, though he suspected she wouldn't like what he'd do.

  Jacqueline released him and he took a great whooping inhale, starving for it.

  Jacqueline's beautiful dark eyes focused in on the edges that she could see of Region One, ignoring him. “They already know I am here. The Combatant will detain me on sight.”

  “How do they know?” Tony asked, rubbing his tortured throat. “Tracker?” His brows popped.

  Jacqueline nodded slowly. “Perhaps. If they operate One like I run Two then they will employ a Feeler, Intuitive, and Tracker. All three or at least one.”

  “We're so fucked,” he announced, letting his hand fall.

  Jacqueline rolled her eyes. “You... you- are really the number one enforcer for the Northwestern?”

  Tony allowed a slow, shit-eating grin to emerge. “Yeah, if you'd stop busting my balls and let me fight it out, you'd see how much of a groove I've got.”

  “Indeed,” Jacqueline said. She didn't sound like she believed it.

  Tony frowned.

  The silence swelled and he filled it, “Alright, whatever. They're going to have all the freak supes out to play. I'll just kill them.”

  “No, you will not.” Her eyes met his. “We cannot have two leaders. Only one must lead.”

  “I will lead,” Tony said as if she were crazy to suggest there was a choice in the matter.

  “I shall lead so that you might survive.”

  Now it was Tony's turn to roll his eyes heavenward.

  “We have come to terms. These Singers are my people. If I bring the sacred words to Marcus, he must acquiesce. He will have no choice. It forces the hand of his Queen. If she will not reign as she was meant to—then I will.”

  Tony smirked. “Yeah, that means you have to shack up with a Were, a vamp and some Singer.”

  Jacqueline prowled towards him. Watching her come caught his breath and made things deep within his body tighten in response. He didn't know what she was underneath all that tightly held Singer genetics but whatever it was brought him like a siren's call.

  When she was inches from him and everything was like a bungee cord strung taut, Jacqueline rose on tiptoe, placing the flat of her palm against his chest. “Do you think that is a sacrifice?” She cocked her head to the side as if considering, and added, “That I lay with three species to gain the throne?”

  “I don't know,” Tony managed in a choked voice, the heat of her breath against his neck, the fragrance of her female secrets tickling his nose.

  “It is not,” Jacqueline said, turning her head and gave a sharp bite to his earlobe, his cock throbbed once painfully.

  “No...” he breathed.

  “Oh yes, wolf,” she whispered, the heat of her breath bathed him just before she bit down, drawing blood.

  His hands clenched around her upper arms, lifting her body off the ground and he groaned, releasing inside his pants. She'd brought him with a deft bit of violence and whispered inference and he growled against her.

  Her words chilled what had spilt from him like a glacier cleaved. “It is the least of what I will do....”

  Tony did not have thoughts of winning.

  But those of surviving.

  Thoughts of the enigma who he gripped in front of him.

  *

  Angela

  Angela tripped on a root, caught herself on the dry needles that littered the forest floor and sprung to running again. She'd abandoned her post without a second thought.

  She burst through the front door of the Victorian mansion where the royals lived. Or those she thought of as royal. There was truly only one Queen and the one who had tried to murder Julia had reappeared.

  Angela would recognize her black aura at a thousand paces.

  The Combatant who manned the door captured her easily. “Whoa... what's going on?” Concerned eyes searched hers.

  “Lucius... she's returned.”

  Lucius looked down at the small Feeler female. He knew the grounds intimately, though he hailed from Region Four. She was north sentry. It could only mean one of two things.

  A known threat, which he hoped was not the case, or that of an unknown.

  He closed his blue eyes, shutting out the potential, then voiced it regardless, “Jacqueline?” Lucius opened his eyes and drilled her with the intensity of his stare.

  Angela gave a single nod, her delicately pale coloring belying her hardiness. She looked fragile but was not, Lucius knew through their short acquaintance. She was an interesting Singer in looks. Many had redhead's coloring. But Angela was a rare platinum blonde, her hair almost white, her eyes a shade of light gray that was so clear it looked like dirt on glass, a fine true brown ring lined the outside of her irises.

  He broke the stare. “Fine.” He turned to the other Combatant beside him. “Who amongst you is Deflector enough to take on one such as she?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Damn. If ever there were a time that a Deflector were needed it would be now. However, the one who was sorely needed was away and eliminating the threat that had now returned. Somehow, Scott had scouted for Jacqueline and they had just missed each other. That was the trouble when there simply were not sufficient numbers of each talent. In this case, Region One could have stood to have more Negators and Trackers. The trouble was, they could not leave themselves so unfortified here that their defenses were too thin to keep One safe.

  Lucius straightened his spine. They would do all they could. After all, they were Combatant. “Follow me.”

  They moved through the maze-like halls of the old home, the floor worn where a million footfalls had preceded theirs. Lucius had only to let go of the urge to be close to Julia to know where she was, his blood sought hers like all the Combatants’. The tendrils of their connection, he of the Combatant, and she the one benefitting from his protection, were second only to her soul meld with Scott.

  He broke into a room that hung heavy with the weight of the tension they'd introduced by arriving. Julia was lying on a fainting sofa, thick and bright with damask floral as its main fabric. His eyes flicked to the vampire and Were who stayed in opposite corners from each other. Marcus stood in the middle.

  Lucius felt his eyes slide to Marcus. He spoke without preamble, “Angela has felt Jacqueline's presence, Marcus. Seen the black smoke of her aura like a trail of vileness in her wake.”

  Marcus said nothing but gave a long sigh. His finger trailed along the papers that were neatly stacked as Julia rose from her recli
ning position.

  “What is wrong with Julia?” Lucius asked, taking in the general pallor of her skin.

  “She sickens,” the vampire named William volunteered.

  “Ah,” Lucius replied in understanding.

  “It's that soul bullshit,” the Were added. Jason, Lucius remembered. A disagreeable sort. As all the werewolves were known to be. He contained his face with difficulty.

  William looked at him and Jason grinned back in challenge. “Tell me I'm wrong.”

  “You are not wrong, but your delivery of the circumstances when it is Julia's cross to bear, borders on a lack of sensitivity that is repugnant to the nth degree.”

  “Is he for real?” Jason asked, his thumb jabbing toward William.

  “Stop,” Julia said in a low voice, her forearm flung over her eyes. She lowered it to her side and raised weary eyes to Lucius. She remembered to pronounce his name properly before she spoke, Loo-c-i-us. “Lucius, thank you.” He nodded. Her eyes sought Marcus. “Okay, come clean. What have you not told me? Or Scott?”

  Marcus opened his mouth at the same time that Jacqueline and Tony moved into the threshold.

  William and Jason dropped all pretense of nonchalance or hatred for one another, moving as one person, they stepped in front of Jacqueline, barring her entrance.

  But Jacqueline ignored them... her eyes seeking Marcus.

  Marcus rounded the desk that separated them.

  She smiled and it was triumphant. Marcus looked sick. Julia's eyes went between their expressions like a wayward Ping-Pong ball. This couldn't be good.

  William hissed and Jason's face and hands changed to those of his wolf, his snout and talons slipping his skin like a knife through softened butter. Julia pushed between them. If she were to die, then it might be amongst those who were her staunchest defenders. The time to cower had long since passed for her as she rode the wave of her anger easily and can came to stand in front of her murderer.

  Scott was not here. Not here for her to touch one more time, to say goodbye. Julia swallowed her emotions like a bitter pill, Jacqueline's next words falling like ice cubes down her spine. There wasn't time for introspection. Julia was simply reduced to the moment.