First Species

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  I feel his presence a second before his eyes line up with mine. “All who pursued you are dead.” His molten gaze incinerates me.

  I don't realize I'm holding my breath until the sudden release causes me to wince and groan.

  “The one who harmed you no longer has arms,” Kiel adds without a speck of inflection in his tone.

  Images of what he does with severed limbs float to the surface of my brain.

  “Or blood,” Narah adds at my left with a smirk.

  Lifting my head, I prop my chin with a curled fist, sliding my eyes in the direction of her voice. She's casually cleaning the blood from underneath her fingernails using an illegal switchblade. Her skin is no longer the pale alabaster of our first meeting but infused in pink. She wipes the semi-dry flakes from the tip of her blade on skintight denims.

  “You killed them all?” My voice is raspy.

  “Oh yes,” she answers in a matter-of-fact tone without looking up. “Mutables know better than to behave badly right next to Final Enforcement, and—they caught me at a bad time.”

  Her silvered eyes flash at mine for a moment before returning to her hygienic task.

  Would there be a good time? “Uh-huh,” I mutter. “I'm thirsty.” I lay my head back down, and an exhausted sigh slips out.

  Narah exchanges a glance with Kiel, who with a heavy arm, brings water close to my mouth.

  Pursing my lips around a bendy straw, I take a blissful sip and about die from the glory of water. Simple, but true.

  I meet their eyes. “I'm injured, so I'm a sitting duck.”

  Narah snorts. “You'll be alright now that you're inside.” She shoots a loaded glance Kiel's way, and my eyes ache as they try to catch all the subtle nuances of their silent communication. “The First will heal you.”

  “Heal me how?”

  Narah shakes her head with a touch of disdain. “Humans.”

  I bristle and bite back a groan of pain from the motion. “Well, tough. I don't know everything. I was great at my job and had a smooth, normal life of my choosing. In the space of ten hours, I've had the Mutable clowns from hell try to nab me three times, haven't eaten in forever, and now I've got a shredded back, so if there's some ignorant spots in my headspace... fuck it.”

  I tense as that diatribe ratcheted up my torn back to a new level of just kill me now.

  Narah snorts back a laugh and tips her blade in my direction. “I like you. So I'll tell you the skinny. Thing is, a First can heal through blood exchange, but it might bind you to Kiel here.”

  I don't dare turn my head again unless I want to commit to another shriek fest. Instead, I ask to the wall, “Is that true, Kiel?”

  “Yes,” his voice rumbles from directly behind me.

  “If I decide not to?”

  Narah saunters into my line of sight, bending at the waist and setting her palms on her thighs. A platinum eyebrow shoots up. “No big, you'll take months to heal instead of hours.” Walking over to the wall opposite of where I lie, she leans against the surface, bending her knee, and plants her boot. “Then there's the small matter of your transition.”

  Wearily, I shut my eyes.

  Don't think I can fathom this kind of pain for months. Then not even being able to run or defend myself—teach, anything. Let's factor in my situation.

  “Okay. Go ahead and fang me, big boy.”

  Narah smirks. “Good choice. I'll leave you two alone—I've got babies to feed.” Her footfalls echo all the way down the hall long after the door has shut, and suddenly it's just me and Kiel.

  Alone.

  Chapter 16

  Paige

  W hat the hell is this?” I breathe out, and Drest stands, removing the sling.

  I retreat though my body wants anything but.

  He advances. “Do not be afraid, Paige.”

  Right. He doesn't have anyone coming at him that's a meter and a half taller. Still partly a gorilla.

  And... and…

  The sling falls to the floor with a soft, discarded whisper. Neither of us looks at it.

  A rope of healing scar tissue winds Drest's arm where shoulder meets torso, and I gulp at the magnitude of strength it took for Adrienne to nearly tear his arm from his body.

  With her hand.

  His eyes follow the direction of my gaze, and I witness his expression fill with understanding. “I chose not to hurt the enforcer even to defend myself.”

  “Yeah.” I wipe my trembling hands on my yoga pants. “How'd that work out?”

  “Very well,” Drest says, crossing his arms and narrowing his gaze at me. “You are unharmed, and that is the primary consideration.”

  Uh-huh. Trying not to be super-obvious, my eyes run over his skin, taking in the aura like a sheer cloth of sparkling iridescence.

  “Do you like what you see, female?”

  I startle, momentarily forgetting that embarrassing surge of lust, and whip my eyes to his. “What?”

  “If you like the package I come in, there should be no trouble with moving forward.”

  Package? “Moving forward—with what?”

  Just then, the door bursts inward, and I scream-shout, spinning to see what now. Drest is just suddenly there, blocking my view with a back so broad I have to step to the side to see who it is.

  A man—or I guess a man—has just walked in.

  “Hello, First,” the guy says, soulful large brown eyes slide to me then return to Drest.

  “Prehistoric,” comes the curt rumble from Drest.

  I don't think I'm imagining the atmosphere in the room go frosty as fuck.

  The guy who just arrived has huge, slightly rounded feet and brutal-looking, short tusks jutting from a large, square face built to charge like a bull if I'm any judge.

  A thick neck anchors shoulders as broad as Drest's—they share a similar height, too. The center of his skull is raised, and a deeply protruding brow ridge looms over eyes that are a pure, chocolate brown.

  His voice is rough like sheared gravel when he speaks. “Doric has sent me.”

  “Process of elimination, prehistoric.”

  The prehistoric steps forward, his nostrils giving a delicate flare, “Not much time, First.” His eyes flick to me again.

  Drest's shoulders tense. “I am aware.”

  The prehistoric lifts a wide palm, making the fine muscles of his forearm ripple with the motion. “Don't get your shorts in a twist.” His eyebrows hike, causing his eyes to have a comical rounded look of momentary surprise when I get the feeling he's anything but. “Name's Jacob, Jac for short.”

  “Drest.”

  I stifle a snicker. That little intro didn't thaw stuff.

  “Fine,” Jac says, putting his hands on his hips and planting his feet wide. “Ya gotta know that there was no way a female pinging unknown was gonna be a single-breed, buddy.”

  “Hey,” I say, moving to Drest's side rather than being partially hidden.

  The males don't even glance my way.

  “I was hoping,” Drest admits in a low voice.

  Jac spreads his arms away from his barrel chest. “That's not practical, Drest. Since the treaty, it just works to pair our kind. Offers the female more protection—which is needed.”

  “Are you talking about me as though I'm not here?”

  Jac's face swivels toward me, and he smiles. The tusk thingies are sort of distracting, and I get he's trying to put me at ease, but that's not going to happen.

  His aura is a fiery orange with an iridescent undertone.

  “Yeah. Right now, the only thing that matters, sweetheart, is getting you the fuck outta here—and to the First or prehistoric clans.”

  Drest leans forward, centimeters from Jac's face. “No mate of mine will be housed at the prehistoric.”

  “Oh, for fuck's sake.” Jac's eyebrows stay high. “Are we gonna start peeing in corners now? I think our Alphas have moved past that, and what about Paige? We don't want to make things worse than they need to be.”

&
nbsp; “Well, right now, you guys are being pretty dickish.”

  That gets their attention.

  Though Jac seems more amused than worried.

  Basically, because he doesn't know me. At. All. I've dealt with the Scotts, Chucks, and Daves of this world, and I don't care what either of these guys thinks.

  I feel fine.

  I don't need them. I sure as hell don't need moving from a work environment where the guys are jerks to choosing to be with two posturing half-animals.

  Yup.

  Another subtle flare of nostrils from Jac. “Fuck, she's not into this,” he says, voice soft.

  Drest turns to face me. “Paige, these were all things I wanted to convey to you.” I see Drest fight his instinct to give Jac a look.

  Inhaling deeply, I say, “Listen, I know that I must seem like an easy conquest. I've been blood-typed. I'm female, so why don't I want to pop out a bunch of kids?” Flipping my palm over, I'm helpless to get over the head of steam that's fueling me. Jac opens his mouth to say something, but I go on, “Don't even begin to tell me how lucky I am that I can have children. I'm not ready.”

  Drest and Jac exchange a look.

  Okay, I've had it. “Fuck off, both of you.” I move to go to the door, and Jac's hand slaps the solid steel so I can't leave. “No way, female. There's nothing outside this building but roaming males and men of the human persuasion that are class-A pricks. I happen to know this firsthand.”

  “I'm not a lover of the undead either.” Drest's voice adds in a low growl.

  “What—zombies?” I ask incredulously.

  Jac chuffs. That's the only way I can think to describe the sound. A light huff of breath that conveys his non-verbal disdain perfectly.

  “No, Paige, there are no reanimated humans running around.” Jac's smile fades.

  I cock my head. “Um, yeah, there is. Have you two not heard about that crazy-ass boy who was AftD? Caleb-something?” I cross my arms.

  “This is so off-topic, and I'd like to say, for the record, that the Randoms who still have psychic stuff is so not in play here. I mean, Affinity for the Dead? Raising corpses is so not important. They're already dead. We're talking about a life-bringer here. You.” Jac scowls at me, willing me with his expression to see reason.

  If they only knew. I step back, jutting out a hip, and return the glare he deserves. “Listen carefully. I just got torn out of a job I'd been in ten years, and I get you're not concerned at the life upset. But there were plenty of men there who treated me like dog poo. I'm not going from frying pan to your guysʼ fire.”

  Drest pulls a face. “I cannot be lumped together with the woolly.”

  Jac gives him the one-finger salute, and they glare at each other.

  My eyes widen at Drest's words. “Woolly mammoth?” I say slowly.

  Jac turns in my direction, nodding happily. “All kinds of goods with that form, sweet thing.”

  Oh, baby Jesus. I slap his hand from the door and rip it open, walking through and leaving the startled shifters in my wake. Stalking down the corridor, I find Murphy stepping out of another room, softly shutting a door behind him.

  Black eyes light on me, and a sudden grin overtakes his face. “Going somewhere, love?”

  “Yes. Anywhere other than with Drest and Jac. I'm not going to be some concubine to an ape and a mammoth. Especially when one of them talks about how great his perfect penis is!”

  I breeze right past the vampire.

  He grabs me faster than I can feel the disturbance in the air. Snaking his arm around my waist, he whispers, “Can't let you go. Sorry, there's some mangy bastards at large who would adore a chance to romance you right out of your knickers.”

  “Let go.”

  Unexpectedly, Murphy drops me, and I land on my ass with a shriek.

  “Bad manners won't help you here.” His expression is mildly amused, which makes me even more pissed.

  I glare up at him, rubbing my ass bone. “That hurt, jerk.”

  He knots his hands behind his back. “Perhaps, but improvising is my specialty.”

  Drest and Jac walk up to where I sit feeling sullen. Crossing my arms, I stop myself from feeling my ass some more. Dicks. All of them.

  “Thanks, Murphy,” Drest says.

  He inclines his chin. “My pleasure. It's the least I can do.”

  I hear a slap and look up at Murphy clapping Jac on the shoulder. “You might keep that bit of information about your big prick to yourself, chap. Being as how Paige just came into our happy little gathering.”

  “What?” Jac asks, plugging his thumbs against a muscled chest. “Don't females like to know those details before you breed them?”

  Murphy bites his lip, clearly keeping his mirth at bay.

  Wow. Just wow. “That's enough. I get a say in who transitions me, right?”

  All three males look down at me with mild interest.

  Finally, Drest confirms. “Yes. I happen to know that you're, ah... interested in a coupling.” He taps his nose as if I'm too stupid to figure out his superior sense of smell.

  Oh. My. God.

  I jump up, dusting off my ass cheeks with a wince. “I've got one of you who's enthralled over his equipment and the other who smells my desire or whatever.”

  “There is no ʻwhatever,ʼ Paige,” Drest quietly corrects.

  I want to scream. These guys aren't arrogant or anything.

  Turning to Murphy, the more reasonable of the three and the one who doesn't want me, I cock a brow.

  Rapidly, he reads my expression. “Too true. You can be with any shifter. You do not have to be expressly transitioned by a First,” those inky eyes shift to Jac, “or a prehistoric. Big prick or not.”

  A laugh bursts out of me, and my hand falls to my chest.

  Jac gives Murphy a speculative look.

  I look to Drest. “No offense, you did great out there trying to protect me.”

  The corners of his lips twitch. “I did my best with one arm.”

  Right. “But why are you and Jac the ones who have to transition me. I don't even feel bad. I have plenty of time...” to screw with somebody I want.

  “Not everyone has a ton of lead time, Paige,” Jac interjects.

  Sighing, I look down at my feet. “But to transition me, you have to sex me up.”

  Drest puts a finger beneath my chin, gently drawing my face up and looking into my eyes. “Are we so repulsive you would not lie with us to spare yourself?”

  Shit, don't put a girl on the spot or anything. My eyes travel his body. This guy isn't shredded. He's actually built more like the Spartan soldiers in the pulse history books forced on us in high school. Those men were built to fight and were enormously strong, not male model types.

  That's how Drest looks.

  Maybe there's something to be said that our auras match. Of course, they would match since I have First Species blood—and that's what they don't know my little talent has revealed to me. I do have First Species blood or our auras wouldn't match. Then, what about Jac?

  My eyes move to him.

  He runs a hand up and down his nape. “I'm not being a jackass. I'm selling my assets to you. The males always have to.”

  “Okay, but you're a woolly mammoth. Where do you fall in the hierarchy?”

  “Low,” he replies without an ounce of self-consciousness. “But besides my obvious awesome attributes,” – I suppress an eye roll at this – “I'm a pure prehistoric and formidable at all forms of defense. What else does a female need?” He spreads his heavily muscled arms wide. “She needs protection.” Jac folds his arms across his chest.

  I look between the pair—two bookends of muscle.

  “I can vouch for Jac's cunning and formidable defense rhetoric,” Murphy comments in a dry voice.

  Jac partly turns to him. “Dude, I'm sorry about the moves I put on you and Moll—and really sorry she's an accidental vamp now.”

  Murphy's chin dips.

  I remember this entire stor
y. How the woolly mammoth had gored an enforcer, and Murphy had saved her by turning her into a vampire.

  So Jac's that guy. My face finds Jac's, and I tilt my head up to stare at him. “You're the woolly that did that?”

  He nods. “Didn't mean to. Was assigned the acquisition by my Alpha, Doric. It's the way we roll.”

  “You claimed you were gay,” Murphy emphasizes, slightly less dry and maybe a bit more pissed.

  Jac lifts a thick shoulder. “Yeah. Did what I had to do. Got ya Grace. So don't gnash your fucking fangs about it.”

  Murphy's chin hikes, black eyes gleaming at Jac. “That singular fact is your only redemption.”

  “Gay?” I ask. I cannot see that. Not with all the talk of penis size and his swagger. The guy oozes sex and the I like females sentiment.

  Shifting my weight, I say, “I don't know you guys. I mean, I know of you but I don't know you. I was just working today...”

  “Now you work no more.”

  I look at Drest and drop the bomb to wipe that smug expression. “I'm not sure I want to have kids.”

  Until recently, I didn't even know I could. The new knowledge is a lot to take in.

  Their expressions say I'm crazy. Of course they would think that.

  Because they're guys.

  But when you're living in a time where the population is decimated, suddenly everyone who can have children—should. That's a lot of pressure on a cocktail waitress.

  “I think what Paige is saying is that she's overwhelmed.”

  I give Murphy grateful eyes.

  Drest's face moves to a thoughtful expression, and he cups his chin. “We will not advance things between us until you show signs of transitioning or you invite our progression.”

  “Good news,” Jac pipes in with what I'm beginning to understand is his normal level of enthusiasm, “you're uninjured.”

  “Ah, what?” I feel my eyes widen, heartbeats accelerating. “Why—is there another girl who's in trouble?”

  “His mate is currently healing another transition—a female whose wounds were caused by a Mutable attack.”