Enemy Mate

by L. J. Red

  She stared at Hope, at her own sister who had no idea of the hell Eden had been living. A wave of black despair covered her. She felt so alone. She needed someone who understood her. She was so tired of going it alone, of being the one to stand between Hope and the rest of the world, and to find out that Hope didn’t even appreciate what she was doing? What was it all for? What was the point of even trying?

  Eden wished just once there could be someone on her side, someone to step in front of the next blow, but there was no one and every step of her life had just been one hit after another, all of them bashing her down further and further until she felt like the next hit would surely break her.

  She stared at Hope’s angry, tearful face and shoved her own misery to the side. It didn’t matter what she was feeling, whatever hardships Eden suffered, as long as Hope got out of it. It would be worth it. Even if Hope never understood, at least she would be safe.

  “You’re going home,” Eden snapped, finally having enough of this argument, and she reached out and grabbed Hope’s arm in an unbreakable grip. Hope struggled and tried to break away, but Eden wasn’t having any of it. She tugged her sister relentlessly toward the door.

  “Oh good, exactly who I was looking for.”

  Eden spun and saw Riker’s second-in-command, Max, standing behind her.

  “Riker wants you to meet him at the docks. Come on.” He gestured toward the door. Eden stepped back, tugging Hope with her.

  “No,” she said. “I’m taking my sister home. Riker can wait.” She hated going down to the docks; no way was she taking Hope down there. Riker did all his gang business there. Eden was sure he was stockpiling weapons. He’d been down there a lot lately, enough that the gate guards had started to recognize her. She didn’t want to bring Hope any closer to Ravager business than she already was.

  Max snarled, his fangs coming down into his mouth. “I don’t think so,” he said. “What Riker wants, Riker gets, and right now he wants you.” He looked her up and down with a leer, and then glanced at Hope. “You can bring the girl too,” he said with an ugly smile.

  Eden shoved Hope behind her and planted her feet. Her exhaustion and anger reaching fever pitch. She’d had enough. She wasn’t going to let Riker push her around anymore, especially not when it concerned Hope.

  “No,” she said again.

  Max’s face transformed with rage and terror shot down Eden’s spine. “You’re fucking coming with me and that’s final,” he spat, and he lunged forward. His claws sank deep into her arm. Eden cried out, but she didn’t step away, refusing to leave Hope unprotected. She felt her own claws grow as she readied herself to fight, no matter the consequences.

  Chapter 2

  Talon wanted to die. He had spent too long immersed in rage and violence. The assassin for Bloodline Shadow, he had been the first line of defense against rogue vampires and brutal hunters. Year after year, he had been sent out on the hardest and most savage assignments. Year after year, he had succeeded in stopping the threat to the vampire race and the innocent humans they lived amongst. Finally, the centuries of savagery had taken their toll. He was cold inside, his emotions frozen out of him. The only one left to him was a wildfire of rage. Uncontrollable, unstoppable.

  And it was only getting worse. Only last year he had tracked down a vampire who had been capturing and feeding on children. Talon had lost himself to rage when he finally tracked the vampire down. He had tortured him for days. The sheer brutality of his justice had driven Talon over the edge. He had felt his control fracture and split. The last fragile threads barely holding him to his sanity.

  Last month, Roman, the leader of Bloodline Radiance, had attacked the Conclave—the gathering of elite vampire Bloodlines from around the world—Working together with vampire hunters, Roman had planted a bomb that had taken the lives of countless vampires and humans. Talon and his fellow Shadows had done what they could to protect those caught in the blast, but it hadn’t been enough. Talon had walked through the carnage and his heart had finally frozen solid. He had sworn he would make Roman pay. He would return here, to Chicago, and he would track down all of Roman’s Bloodline and massacre them.

  The past few weeks he had spent dogging the footsteps of any Radiance vampire he could find and eventually they had led him here. Talon stared down at the club from where he was perched on the roof opposite. The neon sign spelled out the name Bloodchase, framed by a red fanged mouth. Real subtle.

  This neighborhood was rough. Trash piled up in the alleyways, overflowing the dumpsters, and his sharp eyes could pick out rats scurrying amongst the debris. People hurried down the streets, their heads turned down low, past graffitied walls and broken windows. This was deep in gangland territory, where Radiance vampires had been recruiting for far too long. Talon looked away from the club, toward the Sanctuary, the home of the Shadows. He couldn’t see it from here, miles across the city, but he could sense the presence of his fellow Shadows through the Bloodline bond deep in his chest. Not just the warriors, he could sense the presence of the two new vampires, soulmates: Dana mated to Lucian, the leader of his bloodline, and May mated to Neal, Lucian’s second.

  He had been there when the bonds had formed. He had seen Neal and Lucian meet the other half of their souls. He wanted to be happy for his brothers, rejoice that they had found their fated loves. But his heart was cold, untouched, an icy, un-beating weight in his chest. There was no one out there for him. No woman—human or vampire—would ever want a monster like him, so full of wild rage and savage violence. He was hollowed out. There was nothing but an aching void left within him.

  Talon gripped the crumbling brickwork beneath him, turning back to the club. When Talon finally lost control, unable to determine friend from foe, a danger to all around him, Lucian, as leader of his Bloodline would be the one to put him down like a rabid dog. Talon would not let it get that far. He didn’t want to force his leader to have to kill him. He didn’t want to place that black mark on Lucian’s soul. No, he had sworn to find another way. Standing here, crouching on the roof, watching over his enemy’s stronghold, he knew he had finally found it. This was where he would meet his end.

  He would go out in a blaze of glory, destroying as many of the new vampire gang, the so-called Vampire Ravagers, as he possibly could, cutting off Radiance’s supply of new vampires and ridding the city of the stain upon it. Talon grinned fiercely, his fangs flashing white as he opened himself to the core of violence churning within him, welcoming the familiar bloodlust as he rose to a killing rage. He tensed, ready to leap, when the wind changed, carrying upon it a strange, alluring scent.

  Something hooked deep in his chest. Not painful, not exactly. Like stretching a limb that had gone to sleep, he felt the slow flex of forgotten emotions. Talon froze, his head cocked, his eyes open to the night. What was it?

  He couldn’t understand it. It almost felt like the presence of one of his fellow Shadows along the Bloodline bond, but it was faint, new, almost intangible. Like smoke, it disappeared when he grasped for it. Talon strained to follow the strange pull—the half-scent, half-sensation—and his eyes narrowed on the club. It was coming from Bloodchase.

  A raw, hungry need shuddered through him. Whatever it was, he needed to get closer. Desire shivered through his entire frame and he leaped to the ground, falling the great distance and landing cat-like, supernaturally softly on the ground. The moment his feet met the floor in the back alleyway behind the club he felt Lucian turn toward him through the Bloodline bond. Fuck. Talon’s earlier rage must have leaked through the bond and finally reached Lucian. He must have realized what Talon was planning to do. Talon tried to pull back, pull away from the bond, but it was futile, Lucian sent a shattering command through the bond, a wordless order to turn back. So strong and so clear that Talon almost heard the words as if spoken out loud. Turn back, Talon. Don’t do this. Talon snarled and spun to face where the Sanctuary was, his eyes unfocused, not seeing the wall of the alleyway but looking inwards to t
he bright threads that connected him to all of his Bloodline.

  “No,” he said out loud. Lucian’s strength flowed through the bond toward him, tightening on Talon’s body, locking his muscles. Come back, Talon. Lucian sent another command through the bond. Talon roared, his rage rising within him, his wildness drowning out all logical thought. He needed to do this. He needed to be free of the violence within him. He needed to free his brothers from his broken presence. All the while, the strange, alluring sensation was calling him toward the club, pulling him away from Lucian, away from his Bloodline. Talon latched on to it, gripped it tightly, using it to counter Lucian’s pull.

  It was like being torn in two. Unimaginable pain, like nothing he had ever experienced before, shattered through his body. But slowly, slowly, it started to work. Inch by excruciating inch, Lucian’s hold on his body began to loosen. Talon grinned through the pain, wild glee rocketing through his limbs, and he pulled harder, his body straining as he tried to free himself from Lucian’s restraining control. A mad, violent rage rode him. His fangs were heavy in his mouth, his nails stretched into claws, every muscle in his body pulled taut. With a tearing wrench, he threw himself backward, finally snapping free from Lucian’s hold. Talon scored deep marks in the brickwork as he staggered against the wall, crashing into the big metal dumpster at the alley mouth. Trash went flying across the alleyway and rats skittered out from under his feet.

  “Hey, what the fuck is going on?”

  Talon swayed, dragging himself upright to face two bouncers who had come round from the side door. One hesitated as the other strode ahead.

  Still panting from the exertion of fighting Lucian’s control, Talon turned to face the first man with a mad grin on his face. The bouncer’s eyes widened and he took a step back before he caught himself, bracing his shoulders and puffing up his chest. Fangs appeared in the bouncer’s mouth, his eyes beginning to glow. “Buddy,” he said, “you picked the wrong guy to mess with.”

  Talon grinned wider, his sharp eyes picking out the Ravager tattoo peeking out of the bouncer’s collar. He smiled, his red lips parting to show sharp white fangs. “Oh no,” he whispered. “You’re the one who made the mistake.” And he shot forward, moving far too fast for the other vampire to track. He tensed his arm and punched the guy, snap quick, in the neck. His fingers flattening into a blade, flicking out his claws at the same moment. He caught the man’s neck and cut through his skin like through paper. Blood poured down his neck, bubbling up as the Ravager bouncer choked on his own blood flow. The vampire-inflicted wound would be slow to heal, but Talon didn’t want the man to heal at all. He wanted the vampire dead. Quick as a snake, Talon shoved his hand into the vampire’s chest, snapping ribs and gripping the muscle of his heart, tearing it out, leaving a gaping, bloodied cavity that, within seconds, began crumbling into ash. Talon drank in the brutality of his kill, turning his face up to the night air, his rage flaring inside him, drowning out Lucian’s call, blocking any last attempt to pull him out of his madness.

  He looked down at the ashy remains of the heart in his hands and brushed his hands clean with an expression of distaste. Then he turned to the other guard, who had been watching in dawning horror from the mouth of the alleyway.

  The bouncer turned tail and ran. Talon sped after him, launching into the air and running across the wall for a moment before leaping onto his back, baring his fangs and biting down. Blood rushed hot and free across the ground. Talon dragged the vampire back into the alleyway and leaped off the body as it hit the ground, twitching and groaning.

  Moving casually, Talon sauntered over to the pile of trash and plucked a length of wood out from the pile, tossing it in his hand, then catching it and snapping it off into a jagged point. The vampire guard was crawling jerkily across the ground to try to get away from him and Talon leaped onto his back and stabbed down with the makeshift stake. The wood entered the vampire’s heart, piercing it through in one stroke. The body beneath Talon twitched, shivered, and exploded into ash.

  Talon stood, brushing the dust off his suit. Then he raised his glowing eyes to the entrance of the club and grinned in anticipation.

  The strange presence was somewhere inside. Whatever it was, he would find it. Talon strode forward and shoved the doors open, stalking into the darkness of the club. He could hear the pounding of the bass line from the dance floor, the main doors shaking with the beat, but before he reached them, the doors were shoved open and a vampire came out, dragging two women behind him.

  Talon froze in the narrow hall, poleaxed with shock. Within his chest, his cold heart, silent for centuries, tightened and thumped once, twice, in an unmistakable, impossible heartbeat. Talon couldn’t tear his eyes from taller of the two women. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, her face drawn tight with anger and fear, her dark eyes shadowed with a deep, silent misery.

  This was the presence he had been drawn toward. His eyes raked over her body, her tiny, glittering dress hugged her form, doing nothing to hide her perfect, lithe curves. He wanted to plunge his hands into her thick hair, caress every inch of her skin, he wanted his scent all over her, her hands on his body. Fuck. He wanted her.

  Her head was turned down now, away from him. He needed desperately to see it again. He needed to see her eyes, to look into them and see reflected the connection he felt unfolding in his chest. Even across the hall he could smell her scent, a smoky mix of cloves and black pepper, a hint of sharpness that made his veins fizz. There was a fire to her that he recognized, it called and soothed the fire within him. Realization unfolded across his mind. He knew what this meant. He had seen it happen enough times by now to understand. There was no denying it. The woman was his soulmate.

  The vampire who had thrown open the doors tugged at her, dragging her roughly down the hall toward Talon, and he felt a blind rage envelop him. He didn’t wait to see any more but shot out of the shadows. The vampire barely had time to turn before Talon ripped him away from his mate and threw him against the wall. “Get away from her,” he snarled. His soulmate gasped in shock, turning to face him. Their eyes met, a physical shock like a lightning bolt running through him. The bond snapped into place, solid and undeniable between them, reaching between their very souls and tying them together. He felt it in every part of his body—his sudden heartbeat echoing through his bones.

  The urge to close the distance between them, to claim her perfect rosebud lips in his, was almost overwhelming. He clawed at his self-control, trying to hold back. From the haze of confusion as she stared up at him, he knew she couldn’t have any idea what was happening or what the feelings running through them might mean. He needed to stop, to slow down, but it was impossible. He wanted her like nothing else. He ached to bury himself within her, to drown himself in her scent and the warmth of her body. He hungered for her touch. Moving slowly, as if in a dream, Talon stretched out his hand, desperate to feel her skin. Slowly, gently, he traced the pad of his finger over the softness of her cheek. The touch rocketed through him, through her. Her body shuddered, her eyes dropping half-closed under the force of it. He trailed his hand down, delighting in the feel of her, even from the tiny connection, dropping to her bottom lip, pressing down slightly. He felt her heartbeat thrumming under her skin, strangely slowed, almost sluggish, as if she was… His eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of the hint of fangs behind her lips. As if she was a vampire.

  He dropped his hand, shock shattering through him. “Who are you?” she asked. And her voice was like sweet music. He wanted to wrap himself up in it and never leave. But he couldn’t do it. It was all wrong. She was a vampire. And there was only one kind of vampire here. His enemy.

  “Are you one of them?” he growled, voice hoarse.

  She stared up at him, her wide dark eyes confused. Fuck, he wanted to kiss that confusion away from her face, gather her up and take her far away from this hideous place. But he couldn’t. She was one of them. She was his enemy, and something had gone very, very wrong.


  “Are you one of them?” he asked again, hoping desperately there was some other explanation.

  The vampire who had been escorting them had finally dragged himself to his feet. He muscled between them. “Of course she’s one of us,” the vampire snarled up at him. “She’s Riker’s girlfriend. So why don’t you back off, asshole, before you get the shit kicked out of you.”

  No. Talon’s body reeled with shock. Riker? The leader of the Ravagers? The vampire with the sprawling neck tattoo who had faced Lucian so many months ago and barely lived to tell the tale? Talon stumbled back a step. His mind whirling.

  “Yeah,” the Ravager said, mistaking Talon’s shock as fear. “You better step back if you know who Riker is.” The vampire tugged at his soulmate’s arm and her gaze shuttered as Talon took another step back. He tore his eyes away from her. She couldn’t be his soulmate. There had to be a mistake. He couldn’t have a soulmate who was with his sworn enemies. Talon gripped his head, fingers tight in his long hair, pulling at the braid that trailed down his back. He tried to strangle the mate bond within his chest, tried to drown it out, to tear it away from him as he had torn himself away from Lucian’s command just moments ago, but the bond was insistent, slipping from his grasp, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get it out of his chest.

  He had to get away from her. He had to escape the trap of her eyes. Talon stepped back again, not intervening as the Ravager grabbed her and the other woman and dragged them both down the hallway. Every step she took away from him was agony.

  Chapter 3

  Eden couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man standing in the hallway. His well-cut suit fit him like a silk glove, hugging the breadth of his shoulders and every inch of his lithe strength in his frame. He had narrow hips and long legs and a muscled chest under a white shirt. His cheekbones were sharp enough you could cut yourself on them, and his long, silky black hair was drawn back into a braid down the back of his head. His eyes were no longer on hers, but she remembered the intensity she’d seen in them. He was easily the most handsome man she had ever seen. The wicked curve of his lips left her breathless. She hungered to taste them. He was the kind of man you could imagine stealing into your dreams at night and doing wicked things to you, all the while with your willing cooperation.