Ignoring us both, Marco looked at Lazarus. “What’s wrong with Imani?”
It was Annalise who responded, her eyes on Tait. “Someone injected her with the latest serum.”
Marco sucked in a breath. “No.”
Energy crackled in the air as Sam also honed in on Tait, her irises glowing. “Was it you?”
The bitch blinked. “Me? No. I’ve been with Marco and Juliet all night. Ask anyone.”
I snarled at Marco. “I think it was you. You’re her Sire, and she escaped you. I think you’re so obsessed with her that you’d see her dead before you’d see her with another guy.”
Marco’s eyes blazed with anger. He spoke through his teeth. “I’d never harm Imani.” He looked at Lazarus. “I would never do this. Never. When I find out who did, I’ll obliterate them.”
“No, I’ll do that,” I growled.
His jaw clenched. “We’ll see who finds them first.” His harsh expression softened as it went to Imani. “She needs to be in bed.”
“She will be,” said Sam. “Butch, we’re leaving. Get Imani.”
I scooped up Imani, holding her close.
“You can’t take her away from here,” objected Marco, but Lazarus blocked his path before he could advance on us.
At that moment, Ian and the rest of the two squads appeared, no doubt summoned telepathically by Jared. Within seconds, they had Marco, Tait, and Juliet restrained. Strangely, Marco didn’t struggle. His attention was solely on Imani.
“Take them straight to the containment cells,” ordered Jared, to which Tait and Juliet gasped. “Be sure to put them in separate cells.”
A panicked Paige asked me, “What’s wrong with her?”
I ignored her, moving to Jared who then teleported me, Imani, and Sam straight to the infirmary at The Hollow.
Though I was reluctant to part with Imani and didn’t really see what Mary Jane—who was a nurse in her human life and liked to act as one at The Hollow—could do for her, I laid Imani on the bed and let Mary Jane fuss over her.
Jared then telepathically contacted Antonio, Luther, and Sebastian. They arrived at the infirmary quickly, and he told them about Imani’s condition. Luther pretty much beat himself up for not foreseeing any of this, despite Antonio’s assurances that he couldn’t expect to see everything.
Meanwhile, I sat on the chair beside Imani’s bed, her hand in mine as I stroked her pulse with my thumb. It wasn’t easy to keep my touch light when fury was still pumping through me. I’d only just got her back, and now I had people telling me I could possibly lose her. No. It wasn’t going to happen. “You’ll live,” I told her, voice gruff. “You have to.”
Pacing and clearly frantic with worry, Sam said, “I admit I wanted a bit of action. I didn’t want Imani hurt and in chance of fucking dying.”
Sebastian spoke to Sam and Jared. “Do you think it will be necessary to put Imani in a containment cell?”
“I doubt it will come to that if she has Butch with her at all times,” replied Jared. “But if she becomes too wild, it’s a possibility.”
It would happen over my dead fucking body.
“I’ll do what I can to ensure that never happens,” Sam promised me. “I’ve been in a cell. It’s absolutely shit.”
“Chico may be able to help,” said Antonio.
My brow furrowed. “Chico?”
“Obviously he cannot heal her,” allowed Antonio. “But if she gets out of control, Chico’s darts can put her unconscious.”
That was better than locking her up.
“She’s going to have a serious case of bloodlust, Butch, which means she’ll need more than just your blood,” Jared warned me. I growled, and he raised his hands. “Hey, I get it. I’m too possessive of Sam to share any part of her. But I’d suck it up if it was about her health. You’ll need to do the same. Some of the most powerful vampires in the world live at The Hollow. Feeding from them might just get Imani through this alive.”
He was right. “She can’t die.” My words were like gravel. “She can’t.”
Expression fierce, Sam said, “She won’t. We won’t let it happen.”
Imani’s hand shook within my grasp as another tremor ran through her. Releasing her hand, I stroked her hair soothingly. “Did you contact Mona and Cedric?”
“Yes. They’re looking into whether there are any vampires who might be able to help with something like this,” said Jared.
Antonio patted Imani’s leg. “I wonder if Lena can be of any assistance.”
Lena was the mate of Antonio’s Sire and had the gift of genekinesis. That meant she could manipulate a human or animal’s DNA. When Reuben used his gift of amplifying power to strengthen hers, it enabled her to work on vampires. She had helped Sam when she went through the transformation from Sventé to hybrid.
“Maybe she could halt the transition,” suggested Antonio.
Sam pursed her lips. “I’ll contact her and ask. I don’t know enough about the workings of Lena’s gift to know whether this is something she can help with. Maybe—”
The door flew open and nearly all of mine and Imani’s squads rushed inside. The girls surrounded the bed, all in varying levels of distress. But no one came too close, eying me warily. I never showed my anger. Never lost my shit. I could look cool and collected even while I was raging inside. But right then, with Imani unconscious beside me, I no doubt looked as rabid as I felt.
Pale and jerky, Paige kept her eyes on Imani as she said, “Tell me she’s okay.”
Well obviously she wasn’t fucking okay. Was the woman blind? I clamped my mouth shut to stop any of the harsh words running through my head from escaping. I didn’t want to take my anger out on her, but I really didn’t want all these people who had been assholes to Imani in here. They had no right, as far as I was concerned. They hadn’t given their support when she’d needed it, and there was no way I’d give them a free pass because she was now hurt.
“Why don’t you all go outside and we’ll talk in a minute,” proposed Sam, but they didn’t.
Instead, Paige moved to Imani’s bedside and went to take the hand I’d just released. She froze when I growled a warning.
“Leave,” I bit out, snatching Imani’s hand before she could.
Her eyes narrowed at my arctic tone. “I know I’m not your favourite person right now. I understand why. But she’s hurt and I want—”
I leaned forward slightly. “I don’t give a shit what you want. If you remember, I told you that you weren’t to see Imani again until you’d come to apologise. As you can see, this isn’t the time.”
Paige sighed. “I know I messed up, but—”
Max put a restraining hand on her arm. “Don’t do it. His protective streak has hit critical levels and he’s barely holding his anger in. He doesn’t trust you, so trying to get near Imani while she’s vulnerable…it’s not smart.”
No, it wasn’t.
Paige hissed at him. “She’s my best friend and—”
“After the way you’ve treated her recently, I would never have thought so,” I clipped. She flinched as if I’d struck her. Shit, it was time to get out of there. “Call me when you’ve spoken to Lena,” I told Sam, lifting Imani into my arms. If she was going to go through the pain of the transition, she could at least do it in her apartment where she was comfortable and had privacy.
Sam nodded. “We’ll visit at dusk and see how she’s doing.”
Imani stirred in my arms, whining something unintelligible. I spoke low into her ear, “Shh, baby, it’s me. You’re okay, I’ve got you.” With a sigh, she settled, tucking her face into the crook of my neck.
“Jared will teleport you to her apartment.” Sam gave me a pointed look. “We’ll find a way to fix this, Butch.”
I nodded, because there was no other acceptable option. Imani had to live.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
(Imani)
I cried out in utter agony. Everywhere hurt. Every bone. Every muscle. Every ligament
. Every tooth.
My eyes stung so badly I couldn’t open them. My chest was so tight it hurt to breathe. And my scalp was so sensitive it prickled each time even a single strand of my hair moved. Hell, it even felt like every vein in my body was throbbing with pain.
It hurt to curl up. It hurt to lie straight. It hurt to lie on my back, my front, and my sides.
God, what was happening to me?
Why was it happening to me?
Where was I?
I had to be dying. There was no other explanation. There was no way anyone could live through this pain. A pain that almost seemed familiar…like this had happened before.
I knew instinctively that only one thing would feel good. Feeding.
Nothing else would dim the pain, and nothing else seemed important. Just blood. Right now, I needed some badly. I was shaking with the need. Shaking and sobbing and begging. But I couldn’t get up. I didn’t have the energy or muscle control for that.
A shudder rippled down my spine, making me cry out again.
“Shh, baby, I got you.”
I knew that voice. Knew that scent. A body lay flush against mine as a hand drew my head close. I could hear a pulse beating, could hear the rush of blood through veins. I bit hard, moaning as blood filled my mouth. The taste soothed my throat and eased the cramps in my stomach.
More. I needed more.
* * *
I jumped awake with a gasp as pain pounded into my head, lungs, and abdomen. It took my breath away, caused my entire body to tighten in shock. The movement made me wince through my teeth and cry out. It still hurt to move even just a little.
How was I still alive? Maybe I was dead. Maybe this was hell. It certainly seemed like hell. My stomach was cramping and burning like it was on fire. My skin felt hypersensitive and raw, as if I’d been scratching in an effort to jump out of it or something.
I tried to open my eyes, but the light sent pain lancing through them. What the fuck was happening to me?
Another gasp flew out of me as I was assailed by a full-body spasm that seemed to go on and on. I tried to shout for help, but only a tiny whimper came out. I wasn’t sure if I even could speak. My tongue felt thick, and my teeth and jaw ached as if I’d been chewing on a brick. Worse, my throat felt shredded, like I’d been screaming for hours and hours—maybe I had.
I was helpless. Too weak to get up. And in too much pain to do a single thing about any of it. I buried my face in the pillow, muffling my sobs.
Blood. I needed blood again. It was the only thing that would make the pain ease.
Fingers brushed my hair as a body lay against mine, careful not to get too close—as if conscious of just how raw my skin felt. “Feed, baby.”
There was that voice again. I did as it told me.
* * *
I shredded the bed sheets with a guttural growl. I was sweating. Aching. Thirsty. So thirsty that it drowned out the pain and confusion.
I needed to hunt. Find prey. There was prey here. I could smell it, could see it through burning, half-open eyes. But I couldn’t catch it.
With a hiss, I launched at it again, wanting that pulse beating in my mouth. I hit something hard and fell back, tasting blood—my blood. But it wasn’t my blood that I wanted. It wouldn’t quench the thirst that was hammering at me so hard there was no room for rational thought.
“Imani, stop!”
Licking my split lip, I lunged again. Crashed into something solid. Heard something crack as pain exploded in my cheekbone.
“Imani, fucking stop now!”
I sprung again. Smashed into an invisible wall once more. Again, my blood flowed into my mouth. I spat it out.
“Imani, baby, you need to calm down!”
Two sets of footsteps pounded into the room and skidded to a halt. “Jared told me you needed a donor.”
“Shit, why is her face all messed up?”
“She keeps leaping at my shield. Stay behind it.”
I didn’t understand the words. Didn’t care. All I knew was I needed to hunt. Needed to feed.
Snarling, I coiled to strike. Before I could lunge, pain pricked me in several places. I batted away the darts, needing to…to…God, I was tired.
“Feed her now while she’s too weak to fight.”
A familiar scent washed over me as strong arms curled around me from behind and tipped me onto my side on the bed, trapping my arms at my sides. I didn’t have the energy to fight and free myself. I didn’t—
My nostrils flared. Blood. I sank my teeth into the bleeding wrist that was thrust in front of my mouth. It tasted strange. Fizzy with energy. Syrupy. But good. So good.
I drank. And drank. And drank.
* * *
I woke with a blazing ache between my legs. My hips bucked and I groaned, feeling empty and restless. I was so wet; could smell the need that pulsed in my veins and drummed through my body.
The cool air chafed my naked, oversensitive skin and my painfully tight nipples. Whimpering, I squirmed and rubbed my thighs together; needing some relief. It didn’t help. The fire inside me just blazed hotter and hotter, giving me no reprieve.
My womb clenched hard. I hissed and writhed again, squeezing my thighs so tightly together it sent shooting pains through my muscles. I tried to touch myself, to take away the burning ache, but I couldn’t move my hands. They were tied together and secured to something above my head.
I sobbed in frustration, arching my back. I couldn’t take any more of this. I had to—
“Again, baby? Fuck, you’re gonna be sore.”
I didn’t know what that meant, didn’t care. Two fingers probed and slipped inside me, and I almost wept with relief. My muscles clamped around them, trying to keep them where they were. “Please.” My voice was hoarse, and it hurt my throat to speak.
My hands were freed and then a large, hot body draped over mine. The skin-to-skin contact didn’t hurt; it calmed me somehow. “Open your eyes for me.”
I tried. Light stabbed my eyes, and I winced. “Hurts.”
“Okay, baby, keep them closed for now.” A kiss was pressed to each of my eyelids just as something prodded my opening.
I arched, wanting more. And then a hard and thick cock pushed inside me. I groaned in both bliss and relief. It felt so good. Stretched me just right and soothed the ache. My body tightened around him as he fed me an inch at a time. “Too slow.” Too gentle. I needed it hard. I needed the fiery ache to go away. I tilted my hips, taking him deeper.
“Be still.”
I couldn’t. “More. Faster.” I raked my nails down his back.
He growled. Then he was hammering into me, and my teeth bit into his shoulder.
* * *
I had the worst hangover, like, ever.
Groggy, I licked my dry lips, frowning at the bitter taste in my mouth. My throat was painfully dry, my head felt heavy, my stomach was churning, and there were sharp, shooting pains behind my eyes.
Apparently I’d set out to get drunk like it was my job. I was surprised I couldn’t smell alcohol seeping from every pore. I hadn’t felt this dizzy since…hell, it hurt to try to remember. I didn’t even want to know what I looked like—it couldn’t be half as bad as I felt.
I tried to lift my head. A throbbing, head-splitting pain reverberated around my skull. I groaned.
Never again. I was never drinking again.
“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?” The low soft voice belonged to Butch. I’d never heard him sound gentle before.
Slowly, I turned on my side to face him, and a wave of nausea came over me; I closed my mouth tight, fighting the urge to balk.
He slid closer and curled his arm around me. His eyes seemed to be drinking me in, like he hadn’t seen me in years. “Not so good, huh?”
Not good at all. In fact—on top of everything else—I felt strangely uneasy. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “I feel weird.” My voice was coarse and scratchy.
He brushed a thumb over my
jaw. “Weird how, baby?”
“Just weird.” I couldn’t explain it beyond that. “Who were my drinking buddies last—?” Images flashed in my pounding head. Snapshots of memory. So much pain. God, the thirst, the need to fuck and—
“Imani, you’re gonna be okay,” soothed Butch.
Hangover, my ass. “Something’s very wrong, isn’t it?” Anxious, I went to sit up. My head spun.
“Calm down.” Butch gripped my shoulder, keeping me in place. “What’s the last thing you remember about the night we spoke with Andres?”
I blinked. My memory was pretty foggy, but… “There was a concert.”
He nodded. “That’s right. Good. What happened?”
“I went to say goodbye to Eleanor.” Things got a little hazy after that.
His eyes searched mine. “That’s all you remember?”
The anxiety in his expression made my heart begin to pound. “Tell me whatever it is that I’ve forgotten.”
He inhaled deeply. “You were injected with something at the concert.”
I tensed, doing my best to ignore the sensation of my stomach spinning. “Injected? Injected with what?”
He paused. “A serum that’s supposed to be a vampiric cure.”
My brows flew up. “Are you saying I’m not a vampire?” That couldn’t be right. I still felt like one…sort of.
“I don’t know, baby,” admitted Butch. “Your scent hasn’t changed, but it doesn’t seem to have a vampiric quality to it anymore. You still have the Keja allure, although it’s not the same as before.”
“What do you mean?”
“The allure doesn’t look vampiric or even feel it, but it has the same hypnotic effect.” He cupped my chin. “Try lowering your fangs.”
I tried, but…“They’re gone.” The words came out in a strangled whisper.
“So is the amber tint to your irises. You’re obviously weak, but since you’re the first person to get through the entire transition alive, I don’t know if that’s normal.”
There were a whole lot of things wrong with that sentence. “So I’ve gone through the transition, but I’m still part vampire?”
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