Chapter 7
Drest
T here. Pale green eyes hold mine. Luminous. Scared—Intrigued. “Who are you?” Dark blond brows pull together as I linger over her features until I see it; her skin pales out like the moon crossed from behind a cloud, scenting what will happen before it does.
I lean forward, grabbing Paige LaRue before she can slump to the ground just as something hard and painful latches onto my biceps.
With a roar, I take the female against my body with the unencumbered arm and smoothly pivot with the grace of my kind, ending the swing before it falls.
A female vampire narrows silvered eyes on me, her brutal grip intensifying.
We regard each other in surprise for a frozen millisecond while my other arm is full with a burden I want, one I have dreamed of.
I recognize the female hybrid vampire bounty—unfortunately, she does not recognize me.
“Narah!” bellows a male to my immediate right.
I swing Paige, showing the male my back, and jerk my arm backward at the exact instant that Enforcer Adrienne twists her hand while expertly wrenching my shoulder from the socket with a practiced twist and yank, using the Proficiency Ten skills, fueled by vampire strength and a tear of flesh rending sounds.
My gorillan skin bursts the housing of its human form, and I hiss as my body automatically shifts to gorillan form to heal the injury—an instinctive response to trauma.
My howl is muffled as three bounties converge around me.
When my eyes meet Mollie's true light root beer irises, she says in a low voice, clearly controlling her anger, “That's Drest... you dumb shits.”
Thank God, her blood knows mine, I have time to think before Narah takes a sucking inhale, releasing my dangling arm, wreaking havoc on my balance as I struggle to keep the tiny female I hold upright.
Enforcer Adrienne's eyes widen. “Shit, Murphy—”
“Yes, love, this is our man Conrick sent.”
Her face swings in my direction, tiny braids tinkling like ceramic music as they land on her heaving chest. “Hell—I didn't recognize him. I was totally thinking Mutable.”
For earth's sake, vampires and their lack of scent. I spit out, “Get me some medical attention before I heal this shoulder while it is hanging around.”
Murphy moves with the blurring speed of the vampire, arriving so closely inside my space I can smell how long it's been since he last took blood. “Here, let me take sleepyhead off your hands, bloke.”
His liquid eyes run over Paige LaRue, firing my male instincts.
First Species do not willingly give up a female—an understatement of gross proportions.
My eyes turn to his, blazing with the fire of my agony and indignation. “No offense, but fuck you, cousin.”
Murphy executes a good-natured shrug. “I guess I deserve that.”
Mollie squats down beside me, and my nostrils flare as my arm shrieks. “How fare thee, female?”
Her throat works, and I smell her tears like the sky pregnant with rain. “I'm good.” Mollie's eyes dip from my scrutiny, and her next words are directed to the worn asphalt that holds my ass and lays like glued pebbles underneath her boots. “I'm sure Narah thought you were a Mutable,” she explains.
My attention shifts to Narah as sweat pops out on my temples. Well, that's what she'd claimed. “I wasn't in the loop and didn’t realize you would be intercepting me. I came in a vehicle so I would not alert anyone.” Translation: traveling in my First form would get the attention from the multiple Mutable colonies who roam, looking for just such manifestations of the presence of our kind—or that of the prehistoric, for that can only mean one thing—a female of rare type is transitioning. Very valuable for their purposes.
Medical people of the human persuasion roll up in an ambulance with such a foul smell of exhaust I turn my head, pressing my nose against the fragrant hair of my female charge.
Mistake number one.
Even as a healing fire rages like an inferno from my shoulder joint, my cock begins to rise and throb.
Pressing against the unconscious female.
Good earth, not now.
The medics slow themselves to a trot when they see my two and a half meter gorillan body splayed out before them—the unforgiving grip I maintain wrapped around a female I might never have. But the hope that I will have her roots me to the spot, my jaw locked against the pain.
The female medic turns to Enforcer Adrienne with a dumbfounded expression. “What?”
“Fix him,” Adrienne waves a hand toward me. Feisty female. Also, I think grudgingly, she is very lucky that I would never harm one, vampire or no.
The female medic's brows draw together, visible because of a sensible elasticized band holding thick hair away from a face that's naked of makeup but kind. Though she scents of fear, she also scents of compassion. “No way, he looks like he'd eat me.” I see her gulp against her fear, taking a half-step backward.
First Species are not cannibals though we do take blood. I retract my fangs with an effort, but the move is akin to shoving a hard-on inside human denims.
Painful.
“Okay,” she says uncertainly, eyes flicking to where my elongated fangs once were. “I'll give it a go.”
Her male partner is not brave enough to come first. Coward.
Sweat starts to run down the sides of my face, dripping off my jaw and dampening the bare skin where the shirt I'd worn is now shredded from change and injury.
She kneels beside me, eyes probably trying to make sense of what she can do for my arm, given the blood. Hesitantly she gropes at my shoulder.
I grunt as her finger finds the most abused area, and I adjust the weight of the female's slight load, attempting to gain a comfortable position when there isn't one.
Her eyes flick to mine, a clear, fine brown. “Dislocated and partially detached.”
Hurts, I think and don't say, giving a curt nod instead.
“Can you put the girl down?” she asks, nodding her head at Paige as she does.
Never. “No.” One word, tersely delivered.
“Oh,” she replies in a small voice, eyes shifting away to hunt the attention of the others.
“Let the big bloke keep the girl. It's fine,” I hear Murphy mutter.
I release a held breath.
Her eyes screw down on where her hands touch my shoulder. “Shit, he's already healing.” Her eyes flare back at mine, filled with dread.
My eyes lock with hers. “I know what you must do.”
“It's going to be agony.”
I feel my eyes narrow on her. “You are a good healer—and I will not harm you, regardless of the pain.”
She gives a jerky chin dip. No hesitation.
“Then heal me.” I allow my head to fall backward, resting my skull against the cool metal of my transport with Paige LaRue, and wait.
I do not wait long.
She runs a slim hand up my arm then back down, twisting hard as she does and smoothly slamming the joint back into the socket.
My entire body tenses. I clench my jaw as burning agony sears through me for a scorching handful of seconds. Then finally, after three full minutes pass, the pain begins to subside.
Getting the shoulder back in joint doesn't solve the torn flesh, but if the joint is back in its socket, the main part of the injury has been addressed.
I lift my head and meet her eyes, pockets of shadow now that the surrounding darkness of night is closing in.
“Okay,” the female says and sort of falls backward on her ass.
My eyes take her in for a few awkwardly frozen seconds. “Thank you, healer. It was mending out-of-socket.”
“It was. I don't know how you could heal that fast,” she pauses, using the back of her palm to wipe away the small beads of sweat that have formed on her forehead. “I've never seen anything like it though we have been called to treat supes before you.”
“But never First Species?”
I scent
Murphy's irritation easily. “Oh, don't be a numpty, Drest, with that ʻfirst of us all,ʼ jazz.”
My eyes razor down on Murphy, the one who shares my Alpha's mate, Grace. Had he been closer to me rather than Narah, this would never have occurred. He knows me on sight, gorillan, First, or human forms. “It is the truth, and aside from that irrefutable fact, you are indebted to me for not stopping Enforcer Adrienne from taking unnecessary countermeasures.” My brows pop.
Murphy crosses his arms as Mollie glares up at him, having stayed at my side during the entire debacle of arm joint push-in, though the flesh of my shoulder is a hanging flap over my bicep. “He has a point, Murph—stop being a colossal dickhead.”
Dipping my chin, I hide a smile.
Knotting his hands at his back, he rocks back on his heels. “Mollie, I had hoped we had moved past all this.”
She diverts her eyes from his, and I have a moment to consider that Murphy might have saved Mollie's life for one she doesn't want. Vampirism is not always wished for. I suppose it is better than no life. But I would find the existence restrictive. Movement only at night, your form known to all, and only a singular form at that. No half-form that is so lethal in battle and other practical matters.
The freedom to hunt regardless of the shape you assume.
I waste a glance at the passed out female held against me and groan when I shift her weight for the second time, my injured arm healed enough to assist the other.
Wait, the medic says, reaching for the torn hanging flesh.
“No, it'll be fine.
Standing from my sitting position is not smooth. I am forced to use my palm to push myself upright, and Paige LaRue remains unaware of the struggle. Through the layers of her consciousness, I scent her hunger and the lingering flavor of adrenaline mixed with male lust.
She wears it like a cheap perfume—one not to my taste.
At some time in the recent past, Paige was frightened and lusted after... I flare my nostrils, taking another subtle scent and frown. Human males.
I gaze between the three bounties, ignoring the healers for now and impaling the bounties with my stare. “What has made this female afraid? Where did she work as a human?” I stifle my growl as the layered scents filter through even her unnatural slumber.
Shifting my glare to the healer, I note her name, Carolina, flashing on her pulse badge along with a number of unnecessary statistics.
She looks upon me with less fear, true, but had retreated a step or two when I came to stand at my full gorillan height of two meters and refused further care of my wrecked appendage.
“Holy shit, that's one big gorilla dude,” the male medic mumbles to himself though I hear his mutterings perfectly.
Carolina cocks her head, regarding me. “I think this is where all the bigfoot stories come from.”
I refrain from an eye-roll as this is not the first time I've heard this from humans. I am not in my First form. That is the form where so many of the ridiculous human conjecture and myths began.
“Yeah, okay,” the other medic says (Brett, I note with a disinterest that borders on pain) as he mimes a push-away gesture with stubby hands. “You got his shoulder handled. Let's get the fuck out of dodge, Cara.”
I glance at the mess of flesh and gleaming bone still revealed that was my shoulder and narrow my eyes at Brett.
Disgust ghosts her expression for a moment then departs. “Brett, stay classy.”
“Pfft. You stay classy and get cozy with vampire bigfoot.” He presses his thumb into a narrow chest. “I'll be in the ambulance.”
With a barely contained look of irritation, Carolina ignores her partner and says to me, “You should be okay,” her eyes sweep the shredded flesh and with a hard swallow, she continues, “but it was a hard set. I had to push through that amazing healing your body had already done, and though the socket is back where it belongs, I-I... re-injured you doing it.” She rolls her lower lip into her teeth, gently gnawing on it, and I scent her mild regret. This human female does her best.
I give the barest nod, feeling a pang of compassion for the little female. “It is fine, healer.” I offer a vague smile of thanks.
She flicks a finger at her badge. “It's Carolina.”
“It's a form of respect that I refer to you as a healer, Carolina.”
“Oh.” In the gloom, I barely make out a fine blush spreading across the fair skin of her cheekbones. “Like a doctor?” she asks shyly.
I nod. “Exactly like.”
“Alright, what the fuck is going on here—a circle jerk?” calls out an older human male as he moves through the sliding doors of the Final Enforcement building, charging toward our position.
I automatically move in front of the healer, wincing as the move costs me. I growl, the noise sounds like a sonic roar. Think of a lion's siren on steroids.
The approaching male slows, his white hair standing on end in a semi-whirlwind pattern. Eyes colored like dirty window glass run over my form along with the still one of an unconscious Paige.
Carolina begins to back away, giving cautious consideration to the upcoming storm, “I'm going to go now.”
“Thank you,” I say as goodbye without looking away from this new human.
“Casper,” Enforcer Adrienne says from a couple of meters away from my position.
He points at her. “Nope, I am not accepting excuses from the peanut gallery. What in the absolute fuck is a First Species doing here, holding a transition in the wide open, waiting to get nailed by whatever Mutable colony hoofs by?”
Murphy gets a twinkle in his eye. “I'm afraid Narah was a tad overzealous.”
Casper folds his arms above his protruding belly.
I smell elevated cholesterol due to a diet that runs high from processed and refined food, clogging arteries already distressed by his advancing age. This male has less than five years to live. Those facts pain me. However, our role as First Species is not god-like. The highly evolved senses of my kind are both curse and gift.
Casper's attention turns to me. Unrepentant, fearless. He scents of these emotions, and I am humbled that one with so little ability to defend himself would have such a fierce disposition.
Admirable but foolish.
“You,” he swings his finger at me, and I feel an eyebrow cock as his eyes stumble over my disaster of an arm, “Conrick clearly sent you, and I want the details of this clusterfuck down to the gnat's ass.”
I blink.
“But first, get the hell inside the building, and stop advertising the there's a transition here. Holy Christ, it's like ringing the dinner bell for those Mutable freaks.” His arms fly up.
Murphy snorts.
Carefully distributing Paige, I walk to stand in front of him, my shoulder a throbbing mass of hot, slick agony.
Casper puts his hands on his hips, glaring up at me. He is not a tall human though I think of them all as short.
“I will do what I have been sent to do. As you've so eloquently reported,” the growl underscores my words. “Mutables are always scouting. It was not my intent to stand around in the open, but your bounty attacked me.”
“Shit, shit,” Enforcer Adrienne mutters, “chuck me under the bus, why don't ya?”
Casper pivots on his heel, facing the female vampire, but his eyes slant briefly on Murphy, who'd essentially inferred this earlier. “Is this true, Narah?”
“Fuck, yes, it is. Thought he might be a Mutable.” She jerks a small shoulder high and whips her hand in a vague circle. “He was looming above the target.”
Casper grunts. “Didn't your spidey sense help you out?”
“Spidey sense?” she barks. Then suddenly and without warning, she cups her breasts, doing some self-grope exploration, and wetness grows where her nipples are, dark patches expanding as we watch. Obviously, Enforcer Adrienne has nurslings.
Of course, that exhibition claims the malesʼ attention.
She gives a disgusted huff. “Screw this noise. Drest is fixed.”
Her eyes fall on my shoulder. “Sorta. I'm fucking sorry that I was a little rash—”
Murphy gives a dark chuckle, and she raises her middle finger, whipping it in his general direction.
“—anyways, my milk is coming in, and I gotta pump or get to the twins. It sucks ass being all engorged.”
Like the antiquated tennis matches of old, I give my attention from one to the other.
“For fuck's sake.” Casper shakes his head, doing some deep breathing exercises. Enforcer Adrienne's phrasing seems to mollify her boss, who clamps his lips into a flat line. “Fine—but he,” I get a thumb jerked my way, “needs to get his big ass in the building.”
Fucking earth, but he's a hard male. He would make a great Alpha, I think before stomping toward the building that is marked with a neon sign reading, Final Enforcement.
Maybe with some food and rest I can get my damaged body back to rights.
Murphy and Adrienne bark a verbal exchange behind me. Something about “exploding melons” and “lacking tact” reaches my ears.
But I'm already through the door, Mollie in the lead to guide me to where Paige LaRue will be safe.
Which is exactly nowhere.
Chapter 8
Seiger
G ot a female,” Dirk pronounces, casually picking his teeth with a blade.
Seiger finds Dirk to be an absolute pain in his ass, no pun intended, however necessary his uses might be.
Sometimes, one must settle as the humans say.
Clasping large hands behind his back, Seiger paces. Abruptly pivoting, he faces Dirk again, who, in his half-donkey form, strikes a ridiculous pose. An overbite of epic proportions distorts his mouth, the stout end of which hangs half-mast in the air unable to fully close over the lower half.
“What?” Dirk's ears are pointed like a mythical elf (as though there were such things), and Seiger replies, “Brief me.”
Dirk does, with several distracting snorts peppered throughout the recounting.
First Species Page 6
