Love Bites UK (Mammoth Book Of Vampire Romance2)

by Telep, Trisha

  Sasha helped her vampire to the truck and disconnected the drained blood bag, replacing its tube with a tube that led through the bottom of the box to a closed garment bag hanging over the speakers. The garment bag held ten large bags of blood, all now hooked up to his IV. Sasha looked meaningfully into his healing face, knowing he read her thoughts easily.

  He nodded, his blue eyes clear and warm. “You’re an amazing woman.”

  With a grateful peck on her lips, he crawled into the box.

  Lips tingling, Sasha sealed the box and closed the doors. Gathering together the used blood bags, she added them to the garbage bag. Then, like before, Sasha pulled an ammonia and bleach canister from the centre console, clicked it to activate the detonator, and left it on the seat of the SUV she was abandoning.

  In the back of the truck was a cooler full of bleach. She tossed in the bag, her boots – as sad as that was, but they were too noticeable to keep – and pulled off her short skirt.

  Seconds later, the truck roared to life and she headed for the Golden Gate Bridge. Within an hour, she was firmly on HWY 101 and heading north. The most beautiful and scenic drive in America had two other benefits – minimal traffic and a cool, comfortable climate to drive in. Small clusters of towns gave way to long, winding roads and gorgeous ocean vistas. And best of all, she was finally too distant for any vampire to read her mind.

  Sasha?

  Except that one. Mary grinned and relaxed into the driver’s seat. “A nurse wears a name tag and I have a nasty habit of talking to myself. I had to make up a name for both. It seemed bad form to announce I was the Murder King’s human, here to rescue him.”

  Yes, that wouldn’t have worked nearly as well.

  In a world of exotic vampire names, human names stood out. Hers, especially, considering she’d been raised by the Murder – a group of vampires charged with policing their own kind. Their title was linked with the phrase ‘a murder of crows’, though which came first – the murder of crows or the murder of vampires – was anyone’s guess. The group consisted of the Murder King and his Crows, a mix of vampire and werewolf warriors.

  If any vampire stepped out of line – or say, went on a killing spree, like the one who’d killed Mary’s entire family – then the Murder came for him. In her case, the rogue had captured her family during a camping trip, forcing them deeper into the mountains and into a network of tunnels where they would be too lost to escape and he could have his fun and food without interruption. Three days of blood, screams and horror had followed in the darkness of that tunnel. It was a nightmare she’d never forget.

  She’d thought she would die. Almost had. The next time she’d seen moonlight again, it had been splashed across Sebastian’s face. She’d been the only one left alive. An orphan too traumatized by the gruesome deaths of her brother and parents to be mesmerized into forgetfulness, but too young to reliably vow silence and go her own way. Sebastian – the Murder King – had taken her home. A temporary fix that long ago became permanent.

  Why the hell did they send you?

  Mary buried the pang his question caused and, with a tight grip on the wheel, focused on the logic. She didn’t heal as quickly. Wasn’t as strong. Couldn’t move as fast. Couldn’t prevent the powerful vampires from reading her mind or mesmerizing her. God, the list was endless. She was the worst choice for rescuer.

  “There were several plans to extract you. But David expected the vampires and was prepared for the wolves. In the end, we knew he wouldn’t keep you forever. His Halloween party tonight was largely a show for gathering all of his people into one place for protection. Several attempts were made from different angles tonight. Some failed, some were back-up. All were distractions, because amid everything else, he’d never expect them to send me.”

  Not the protected human of the Murder King. Everyone knew she wasn’t to be allowed around anything seriously dangerous. She pressed her lips and buried the issue. Not the most important thing to focus on at the moment.

  She’d been safe tonight, unless she’d screwed up. She’d learned all the vamp tricks at Sebastian’s knee as a child, not to mention those she’d created herself as a rebellious teenager, trying to circumvent her vampire and werewolf foster family.

  Many had argued. Violently. She was too weak. Sebastian would go insane at just the suggestion. This was too important to leave in the hands of a human. In the end, she’d come up with the best, simplest plan. And if she failed, well, hopefully at least one of the other strategies wouldn’t.

  “And it worked.” She smiled triumphantly into the rear-view mirror, thinking carefully over the last few days and all the plans she’d made, picturing them in detail so he could pluck them from her mind.

  At great risk to yourself.

  Mary sighed. She knew he wouldn’t like that part. To Sebastian, anything that put her at risk was unacceptable. But did he realize the terror she’d felt when he’d been captured? She’d never forget the sight of him – his once vital, invincible body strapped helplessly to that table, tubes draining him of the powerful blood he needed to survive. His skin greying with a sick red tinge as they took him from her, drop by drop.

  Mary checked her mirrors, blinking and rolling her eyes to air-dry them of tears as she breathed deep to fight the brutal images. It was only today that she’d seen the terrible things they’d done to him, but every moment since his disappearance she’d imagined images just as horrible. Some even worse.

  He wasn’t just her childhood saviour. Or the dominating law of her youth. He was so much more important to her than any one of the roles he’d played during her childhood phases. I . . . the sound in her mind was similar to a sigh. An acceptance. I do thank you.

  “You would do no less for me.”

  It would be much less dangerous for me.

  Again she pictured his thinning skin, his sunken chest. His veins blackened by the poison they’d forced into him. The pain he must have felt was unimaginable. She’d tried. She’d seen first-hand what vampires could do, and not just when she was a child. Those memories would never leave her. Pain was pain. Torture was torture. No one, vampire or human, was exempt from the risk of agony.

  It had all come down to one salient point. Which could she live with best: risk of death, be it quick or slow, or life with the loss of him, and the knowledge she’d done nothing to prevent it?

  How did you know I still lived?

  She’d felt it. “Intel.”

  Silence.

  “Why the elaborate set-up, the snail’s pace torture? If he wanted you dead, why not a quick, clean kill before he lost his chance?”

  They didn’t tell you?

  And break the code of secrecy they loved so well? She snorted. The subtext had flown around, but no one had wanted to explain. At first because they didn’t want her involved, then because she’d have less to think about, therefore less chance to screw up the rescue. She had a long way to go to prove herself to them. Or, at least, to the handful of Crows willing to let her prove herself.

  You have nothing to prove and no reason to try so hard.

  A blank wall rose in her mind. It was mostly white with a grey crack that split in so many directions she could mentally trace it for hours. Which she had done before. She’d been using this trick for years since it seemed the most effective way to disguise her thoughts. By the time he broke through, the thought she hid would be long gone.

  He sighed again. David had a sister. She crossed the line.

  The Murder had been created long before the vampires had expanded past the Old World, before the ruling Monarchy had been replaced with more of a republic (with Senators representing the territories they ruled). The Murder existed outside of all rule, as the law itself. Everyone, both citizen and ruler, answered to the Murder. Whenever a rogue believed he answered to no one, killed indiscriminately and risked lawlessness and war, Senator or peon – the Murder was called.

  David’s sister Tatiana ruled an area in France a hundred years a
go. She took a page from the bloody countess and bathed in the blood of virgins, not for the youthful beauty the countess had sought, but for pleasure and gluttony. Her antics, while legal because she’d made them legal in her territory, risked the safety of all vampires. The Murder was called and I dealt the death blow. Her people, David among them, were ordered to watch. To learn that type of barbarity was not acceptable.

  “And instead, he learned to hate you.”

  My mentor and predecessor was killed during the battle. Her death marked my ascension to Murder King.

  Ahh. For Sebastian to have profited from Tatiana’s death. That would have been impossible for David to accept. “Why wait so long for revenge?”

  He waited until victory was certain.

  Meaning David had thought the Murder King was finally vulnerable. That there had been a hole in Sebastian’s security.

  She tightened her grip on the wheel. This was all her fault.

  Her first two years of college had been full of online classes backed with evening classes. But this year, the courses she needed were only at certain times – day times – and her presence was mandatory. She’d moved into a dorm, living the college student’s life, separate from the Murder for the first time since her rescue from that fatal family camping trip.

  She’d thought she’d needed the independence, the chance to mature away from the watchful eyes of the Murder or they would forever see only the defenceless child she’d been. Or the protected pet she’d become. Unless she got away long enough to become the capable woman she felt was her destiny.

  But, dear God, she’d left the Murder King vulnerable. His guards had been with her. This was her fault.

  No. He bit the word out with a sharp snap. This is David’s fault. He was coming for me sooner or later.

  “But he had a chance because of me.”

  I left myself in the open.

  She could hear the click as pieces fell into place. Over the last week, she’d heard a few facts about his disappearance. He’d been out of the compound at the time, but not on a case – something that hadn’t happened in a hundred years. He had come to check on her at school.

  No wonder Sebastian’s werewolf bodyguard had glared at her, his hazel eyes so accusing. Lucas was never off duty. Strong, lethal, loyal. Pretty damned hot.

  Sebastian growled in the back of her mind and she bit her cheek, concentrating on the pain until the urge to smile left.

  Lucas had blamed her for Sebastian’s vulnerability. Then each of the others had fallen in suit, not wanting to include her in his rescue, not trusting her. They didn’t just think her weak, did they? Did they also think she’d helped his enemies? Of course, that would have to be a consideration. They’d all lived too long not to consider every possibility. “They were angry you exposed yourself to danger just to check on me personally.”

  Silence.

  “I knew you had me watched. I haven’t fought having guards because I understand why I need them.” And the guards had kept it low key, granting her as much freedom and privacy as possible while keeping her safe. The Murder King had too many enemies and his human ward knew too many secrets.

  Those aren’t the only reasons why.

  “Did David threaten to kill me?”

  Yes.

  “And you came to get me?”

  Yes. Then there was a fight and I was captured.

  She sighed and focused on her driving. Music played softly in the background and she let her attention drift with the words and the scenery. A half-hour later, she pulled into a double-wide storage unit and parked the truck. Using a slab on wheels and a winch system, she transferred his light-proof crate to the back of another SUV, cleaned anything that could identify them, set the scent-scrubber bombs and drove away in a vehicle with Oregon plates. A quick trip through a drive-thru netted her a burger and pop and she continued on.

  Through it all, he was quiet. Considering the height of the sun in the sky, he probably slept like the dead. He didn’t actually have to, but after being tortured for a week . . . well. She finished her burger and bagged the trash.

  Something had to change.

  She needed college. Not just for her to give her credentials in the real world, but for the distance, the space. For years now, she’d had one dream. Likely Sebastian knew, bits and pieces at the very least. She wasn’t that good at hiding her thoughts.

  The fact was Sebastian had never really been a father figure to her. She remembered her own dad too well for that. No, Sebastian wasn’t her dad, but he was everything else. He was the strength that rescued her, not only the once, but every night in her dreams. He was the wisdom that guided her growth, as well as the growth of a coven of fifty vampires, and as many wolves. Policing rogues wasn’t a cushy job.

  But beyond all that, his humour made her smile. His anger alternated between making her cringe and sparking her blood. And his big, hard, healthy body made her wet . . . in places she dare not think of with him in the car with her – whether he was asleep or not.

  She couldn’t have him. Not yet. She would not be a liability to him. Despite the years of training that could’ve earned her a blacker than black belt, or the excellent marks she’d made with all her tutors, she still needed two things before she could fulfil her dream. Unfortunately, they were the two hardest things for him to grant: time and distance.

  She needed these two things so that her thoughts could be private while she worked on herself. So her gradual changes could be noticeable when she returned home. Then Sebastian would see a different person. A grown, mature woman, worthy of respect. And love.

  Her dream was to become his woman.

  She needed to become a strong partner worthy of the Murder’s leader. The kind of partner he needed. Any weakness in her would reflect on him. A human could only do so much in his world, physically, but mental weakness was worse.

  She also needed to age. He’d been turned in his thirties. She had a good five to ten years before she could stand by him without looking like his kid sister, or worse – as she looked now – his daughter.

  Five to ten years of living, a degree in business, minor in politics, and then she’d ask him to turn her. Assuming, please God, that he wanted her by then. That she’d proven herself worthy.

  Mary breathed deeply, pulling back from her vision of the future. She had a vivid imagination. Too much focus on it and she might forget she wasn’t there yet. She’d imagine skipping the years of hard work and just race straight to the next step, lying beside him in soft cotton sheets, their bare bodies close. Touching.

  Images which were much too detailed to think about two hours from sundown. Mary leaned forwards and cranked the radio. A quick check of the maps on her cell phone re-confirmed the directions to the safe house, and she settled in to sing with the radio, emptying her mind of all else.

  The sky was a mix of orange and yellow, the last burst of the sun before it fell below the horizon. Mary pulled into the garage and closed the doors, making careful mental note for Sebastian of the placement of items, doors and switches and, especially, the alarm code. He wouldn’t exit the crate until the sun was fully down. There were too many ways the house might not be fully light-proof. When he felt safe, he’d come inside the house.

  Is this place secure?

  Mary thought over her plans and precautions, letting him see the details. “I paid cash and rented it under that emergency name you gave me.”

  Then only the two of us know.

  “What about whoever made the ID?”

  I made it myself.

  Mary smiled and continued into the house. The bagged blood would have smoothed the edge of his starvation and sickness, but for true healing he would need fresh blood. She found the master bedroom and en suite, set a duffel bag on the counter and took a shower. She had to scrub away the face-altering make-up and every inch of her skin that was slathered in knock-out gel.

  Forty-five minutes later, Mary exited the steamy bathroom in a tank top and matc
hing sky-blue cotton shorts. Her hair hung in a straight, wet curtain to the middle of her back and thin wisps, drying to blonde, framed her face. Finally, she looked like what she was – a youthful, relatively innocent college student.

  Light from the doorway behind her spilled into the darkened bedroom, illuminating the man sitting on the edge of her bed. The light struck his eyes, making shiny sparkles in the vibrant blue. Apparently distance didn’t affect only the way people saw her, but also the way she saw them.

  She’d always loved Sebastian, in all his many roles. But this one was new. Still thin and weakened from his ordeal, his skin had healed the small wounds and discolorations. Now his bare chest gleamed golden and his veins had returned to blue from their previously poisoned black. His hair gleamed wet from his own shower, taken in the main bathroom closer to the garage, and he’d chosen a pair of comfortable cotton sweats for the night. His bare feet curled into the carpet and his elbows rested on his slightly splayed knees, as he studied her just as thoughtfully as she did him.

  “You have nothing to prove. You will not risk yourself in such a misguided endeavour again.”

  His voice was the same commanding baritone he’d always used. His mouth settled into the same thin line, demanding obedience – unhappy until it was willingly given. But something was different. He seemed more approachable, and not because of the amazing amount of muscled skin on display. Being bare might make other people seem more vulnerable, but not him now.

  No, it wasn’t the lack of clothing or his relative illness that made him seem approachable to her, but she couldn’t decide what it was. Whatever was different, she didn’t react with a knee-jerk urge to rebel against his words. Instead, she stepped forwards with a calm assurance in her mind, her body and her tone.