The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  Of course, Singers weren't exactly human. That had been made abundantly clear when Marcus had made mention of his discomfort with the event.

  It had been soundly dismissed.

  He looked at Scott standing in front of Julia like a looming human shield of protection, thinking of how he'd morphed into Combatant form during the battle with the vampires and hoped for everyone's sake that her blood chose him. Marcus didn't think that Scott would have the stomach to watch her with another. It was the height of irony that Scott had abhorred the idea of a union, a connection that would rob him of his perceived freedoms. But now, looking at the possessive way he stood behind Julia, he presumed that way of thinking had seen a complete turnaround.

  There had not been a Combatant manifestation in Marcus' lifetime and he'd only heard of the Coming of the Circle from his father. However, now it was here, in the present and real time, he could see it was not a light and simple thing.

  When Victor took Julia's hand and she reacted, Marcus understood the circle would not close without strife.

  Julia could see that she'd be a part of some kind of weird receiving line of sorts and stood there as the huge Singer warriors filed past. It was unnerving at best. At worst, it was embarrassingly awkward.

  She could sense Scott trying not to growl at her back.

  Out of everything she'd ever experienced, up to and including her parents' death, this was the weirdest thing of all.

  They treated her formally, also strange as hell.

  The Combatant were trained, nervous of the small female that stood before them. She was the peacekeeper of the Singers. Their future, the one who might be responsible for unifying the species. So there would be no more war nor strife.

  It was a lot for Julia to take in: as the vampire burned in a bonfire, nine Singer warriors took her hand and lifted it to their mouths, pressing her small hand against their lips. Not against the back of her hand but at the inside of her wrist.

  Where her blood flowed and her pulse beat.

  When the ninth lifted her hand to bring it to his mouth, his eyes met hers and there was a brief flare in his. Then his mouth was against her wrist and the world tilted, heat rising from her feet to a tingling crescendo of warmth that made the hair lift on her head.

  Julia felt like she was on fire.

  The man jerked as if stung, dropping her hand and rubbed his own against his slacks.

  He didn't look like a warrior, he looked like a GQ model. All chiseled jaw with deep eyes and long sooty lashes, eye color unknown, the gloom sucking away the finer details of coloring.

  Julia hugged herself, trying to get over the sensation that bordered on a static charge. And she was the plug. She shivered and Scott drew her in against him.

  Julia let him while never taking her eyes off the newcomer.

  Jacqueline smiled. It looked cruel on her face. Julia wondered if there was any other expression that she owned. So far, Julia had only seen varying degrees of the one in front of her.

  Jacqueline pivoted to Marcus, triumphant and sure. “You saw?”

  Marcus nodded, his heart giving a sickening lurch.

  Victor's face took on a dawning look of horror.

  “Perfection. Victor... you are more than advisor.” Jacqueline looked at him slyly, loving the moment, Julia could tell. She was waiting for Jacqueline to jump and down, shouting and clapping with glee. Julia suddenly knew what Cyn would have thought of her: Royal Bitch. She was royal alright. Just not the way she thought of herself. Julia hid her smirk with difficulty.

  “My advisor is also Combatant,” she finished in a purr.

  “It looks like that's not all he is,” Michael announced in a sullen tone.

  “Yeah,” Jen agreed forlornly. Even she felt bad for Scott. Of all the Combatants to manifest... why did it have to be Victor? Pretty boy Advisor to the ice queen. It was a terrible outcome. Jen gave Scott a sympathetic look.

  Scott held Julia while he wanted to scream his frustration. His horrible natural mother, who governed with a control that bordered on abuse and was certainly on the soft side of sane, had somehow managed to put a Combatant in place as her right hand man. Had she suspected? Had Victor been aware?

  Scott stared Victor down and he returned the glare with one of his own.

  It didn't matter. Scott was holding what mattered. No other male was going to get a hold of Julia.

  No Were.

  Or Vampire.

  Singer.

  No one would have Julia but him.

  If destiny had pulled the rug out from underneath him, then he'd pick up the pieces that belonged to him.

  In this case he knew what belonged to him.

  Julia.

  CHAPTER 12

  Cyn

  Cyn awoke with her mind a cluttered, cobwebby attic of confusion. She'd been... she struggled through the mess, and the memories came crashing into her. Her eyes popped open as she watched a ceiling fan do its lazy circuit above her.

  Mesmerized she sat up, the sheet falling to her waist. Cynthia jumped, grabbing at herself. A long breath of relief shuddered out of her when she realized she was still in her clothes from yesterday.

  The cop.

  The Weres.

  Cynthia hopped out of the bed and threw her hand out to steady herself as the blood rushed from her head.

  Holy smokes, Cynthia thought, where in the blue blazes was she?

  “Hey,” a flat voice said from the dimmest corner of the room.

  Cynthia staggered back, hand to her chest, her heart trying to escape. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Adrianna.”

  Cynthia couldn't make her out very well but was pretty much ready to tackle her unknown ass if that's what it took. She'd effing had it.

  Adi came out of the corner, her posture sullen to even the least observant person.

  Cynthia was not. She noticed the finest details, always had.

  Cynthia looked her over: she was a small chick, sturdy, short and athletic. Cynthia narrowed her eyes, then sticking a hip out and planting her fist there she asked, “Well?”

  A reluctant smile formed on Adi's face. She couldn't help but admire Cyn. She was all that Jules had told her she'd be. Here they'd kidnapped her and she was unfazed. She was addressing Adi. No-demanding that she be told who she was speaking with.

  Adi liked her on principle.

  Not that it mattered. Jules was gone. A dangerous reconnaissance was being planned so that Jason- the Feral, could retrieve her and reinstate the Ritual of Luna before the Singers claimed her irretrievably.

  “Okay... Adrianna,” Cynthia responded with tempered suspicion.

  Adi laughed. “Call me Adi. Jules did.”

  Cynthia sucked her breath in a gasp. “Where is she?” Cynthia asked, her loose hand becoming a small fist of hope above her heart.

  Adi lifted her shoulder dismissively. “North of here. With her people.”

  “People?” Cynthia asked, thinking the scenario just kept getting stranger and stranger.

  “Yeah, she's a Blood Singer. Actually,” Adi looked down at her sneakered hot pink All-Star feet, “a Rare One.”

  “Whoa, pony...” Cynthia said, raising a palm.

  “It's actually wolf,” Adi corrected.

  “No shit?” Cynthia asked, gulping as she unconsciously took a step backward.

  Adi grinned. “I shit you not.”

  “Huh. That's kinda bad for me.”

  “Nah. We're not asshats like the Homer Pack,” Adi said.

  “Oh great, I'm so relieved,” Cynthia said in a droll voice. She was so on board with believing that- not.

  “Listen, Blondie....”

  “Bite me,” Cynthia said.

  “Don't tempt me, dollface.”

  “Hey girls,” Tony said, having smoothly interrupted them after listening in for a few moments.

  They whirled to face him, a common enemy identified.

  Cynthia scooted back to where the front of the bed was. She w
as only a few feet from the girl.

  The girl werewolf, Cynthia reminded herself. She'd take Smart Ass behind her rather than square off with the big dude in front of her. Cynthia guessed in another circumstance he would have been a hottie. But in the current one he left her cold.

  Like ice.

  His face was hard, his complexion dark. It was his size that was so scary. He was six-four if he was an inch. And Cynthia wasn't a shrimp of a girl. She was five-eight in her stocking feet.

  Cynthia watched Adi tear over there and look up at him, her expression fierce.

  Hell, Cynthia thought, she postures like a guy.

  Cynthia took another cautious step backward. She was going to give these guys a wide berth to beat the everlovin' shit out of each other if that's what needed doin'. Uh-huh.

  Sans her presence.

  “Way to warm up the new capture, Adi,” Tony said, looking down at her, a smug grin on his face. He did have an eye on Cynthia and that's when she remembered him from the field. He'd been the dark brown wolf. The one that had hit the cop, Truman.

  Cynthia moved back until her butt hit the wall, her breath coming faster. She was going to have to calm down or she'd hyperventilate. Seeing that small girl take on the much larger male scared the shit out of her.

  “Oh, and you're so smooth? Who's the one that decked the cop, douchebag? Huh?”

  Tony put his hands on her that fast, Cynthia hadn't even seen those massive palms of his move and Cynthia yelped.

  In sympathy, for Adi.

  He had her by the shoulders and Cynthia held her breath but Adi had it. She watched the female do the unexpected. Any fool could see from casual observation she loathed the dark werewolf but she got closer, fast, then lifted her knee to his groin.

  Cynthia covered her mouth and gasped as the big male grimaced and grabbed his privates, a low growl boiling out of his mouth.

  “First. Fuck off,” Adi said and pushed him as he was staggering away, those big hands holding his nuts.

  “Second, I got this,” she said in a low voice full of barely contained anger and she pushed him again, hard, with the flat of her palms.

  His hand snaked out and he latched onto her wrist, jerking her off her feet and on top of him as he fell.

  She went with him.

  Adi's eyes widened and it was then that Cynthia knew she wasn't a big one for planning. She was a stick of dynamite with a short fuse and this big sucker must light it every time they got around each other.

  He whipped her over on her back, smacking her loudly on the floor, his knee shoving up between her legs to press against her crotch and said in a low hiss, “Not so clever now, are ya bitch?”

  Oh crap.

  Cynthia was going to stay out of it, she really was. After all, this was some Werewolf brawl, right?

  Cynthia felt her feet move forward. Next thing she knew, she was jogging over there like the dumbass she was.

  Cynthia landed with a plop on Tony's back, bronco-style and latched onto his hair with both her hands and pulled, using her body weight.

  All her anger from the abuse of the Were from Alaska rolled over her in a warm surging tidal wave of rage and she tore out a chunk of his hair and he yelled, flinging her off with ease.

  It was enough distraction for Adi to extricate herself from her supine and vulnerable position beneath him.

  Like an enraged bull he surged to his feet, head swinging, huge hands in fists of violence at his side.

  Oh shit, Cynthia thought, that wasn't my finest decision.

  Then he came for her and she turned her head away, bracing for a pounding, no exit in sight. It was worth it, she thought, shutting her eyes tightly.

  A noise made Cynthia snap her eyes open.

  There, from the doorway, came a flash of colors and a bowling ball of human flesh, no more than a muted blur of color as it slammed into the thug above her, rolling them into the wall, plaster giving way in a cloud of dust and powder.

  “Holy shit, Cyn! Move. Your. Skinny. Ass!”

  Cynthia gave Adi an almost comical look of sheer terror and surprise and scrambled to her feet, she grabbed onto the hand that Adi held out and the smaller girl tore Cynthia behind her.

  She was stronger than she looked, as Cynthia's feet lifted off from the surface.

  “Come on,” Adi yelled, sprinting while Cynthia stumbled after her in an ungainly jog.

  “Hold on!” Cynthia shouted. Adi skidded to a stop.

  “What the hell is going on?” Cynthia asked, flinging her hands out.

  Adi huffed. “I may have been a little overzealous with Tony.” Adi looked a little shamefaced.

  “Oh effing terrific,” Cynthia said and Adi nodded, properly chastised. Cynthia belatedly wondered if such a thing was possible.

  Cynthia looked over her shoulder and flinched when a lamp in the bedroom shattered.

  “Listen,” she pointed a finger at the smaller woman, albeit much stronger, “I will not be a willing mushroom, kept in the dark and fed shit. Tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Adi's shoulders slumped. “Well, Tony's a prick.”

  Gee... shocker, Cynthia thought.

  “So? You can't kick every guy that's a jerkoff in the nuts. We'd have half the male population with a permanent limp.”

  The corners of Adi's mouth turned up and Cynthia started to smile back. “Ya know, you're okay. I see why she liked you.”

  Cynthia's smile faded and she got back on track. “Anyway, is he like... a threat?” Gawd, what a stupid question. Obviously! He'd nailed the cop, probably been the one to steal her... the list was long.

  “Yeah. I mean... I think so but no one will listen. Our Packmaster...”

  “Who?”

  “Lawrence,” she met Cynthia's eyes and went on, “he thinks Tony's this great soldier and everything.”

  “Is he?”

  “Yeah,” Adi conceded reluctantly. “But he's not a good soldier in the old way. He's brutal and underhanded. He wants power and control and he'll do anything to get it.” Adi's eyes stood in a fierce face, her eyes melting to gold around the edges.

  Oh hell, did this mean she was going to go all wolf-girl on Cynthia's ass? Like right now?

  Cynthia took a step back and Adi laughed. “It's okay, I'm not gonna like... burst my skin or anything.”

  “You looked a little... wolfy there for a sec.”

  “Yeah. Strong emotion can do that. The eyes, right?” she asked, her human color bleeding into the gold like spilled chocolate milk.

  Cynthia nodded her head.

  The noises of fighting stopped and an ominous silence came from the house they'd left. Cynthia glanced away from the house and noticed a great pavilion, marble and veined silver, like a wedge of ancient Rome plunked down in the middle of a forest. It rose like a polished alabaster stamp of antiquity.

  “What's that?” Cynthia asked, pointing to the marble structure.

  Adi opened her mouth and a voice to the right of them said. “It's where Jules was taken.”

  Cynthia looked at Jason. For the first time in over two years.

  Jason Caldwell was very much alive. But his eyes were different.

  Ancient.

  She ran. Cynthia didn't think that her feet even touched the ground as she flung herself into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, tears pouring out of her eyes.

  “Oh my God! Jason... I thought,” she began.

  “That I was dead?” he finished, putting her slightly away from him but not letting go.

  Cynthia nodded her head, her green eyes searching his face, looking, hunting. Finally, she asked, “What? What is it?”

  Jason didn't say anything, but he let his hands trail down her arms and stepped away. “It's good to see you, Cyn.”

  Cynthia stepped back. “It's good to see me? What the hell, Jason? I watched Kev die. I watched a fucking creature...”

  “Hey,” Adi barked.

  Cynthia cocked a brow at Adi then dismissed her. “A shit
head Were come in and tear your throat out.” More tears threatened and Cynthia ruthlessly held them in check, her eyes feeling buggy and swollen, burning. “And Jason... they took Jules.” Her eyes searched his face and not seeing what she expected she went on, “I've come all this way, first to escape the effers in Homer, and then,” she flicked her eyes to his and gave him a level stare, “I found her trail. She's alive, Jason. Alive,” Cynthia said in a fervent whisper.

  “He knows, Singer,” Tony said from behind them and the girls jumped.

  Adi opened her mouth to say something flippant and Emmanuel, his lip busted up with a cut above his eye held up a finger. “No- Not. One. Word, Adrianna.”

  Crap, Adi sulked, her ass was definitely grass. Not that watching this effed up little reunion wasn't funtastic and all... but. She gave another look at Manny and he narrowed his eyes on her.

  Well shit. She clamped her lips together with a supreme effort.

  Manny looked away from the spitfire female Alpha with a sigh. She would face discipline. Whether or not she liked it, Adi was not dominant to Anthony. If Emmanuel had not chosen to intercede, things might have escalated in a direction that would have been quite bad.

  Quite.

  He looked at the scene in front of him and lamented it. Adi had not handled things well with Tony but seemed to have done well by the newest, weak-blooded Singer. Well... not so weak. Now that the smells of humanity were far-removed in this place, he flared his nostrils, he could smell her blood quantum. She was of fuller blood than they had realized. Excellent, Lawrence would be most pleased. He'd hoped for answers and her Singer ancestry was simply gravy, as the humans were apt to say.

  Jason and Tony's eyes clashed in a disharmonious glare. Cynthia looked from one to the other and then she gave Jason the full weight of her stare. “What is he talking about? Where is Jules?”