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Authors: Stacey Brutger

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BOOK: BloodSworn
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It was too risky to jump.

Halfway around the five-foot hole, a light smell of decay
wafted to him. Merrick jerked his head up to see a sinister smile on the last
Ferguson twin as he raised his weapon.

Using Beast’s speed, he threw himself sideways, the rapid-fire
retort of the gun barely missing him. The bullets sprayed the wall behind him in
quick succession. Wood gave in a wrenching groan under his weight, and he
plummeted down to the second level. He landed flat on his back with the air
knocked out of him.

Debris fell like rain, setting off a coughing fit. The
barrel of the gun appeared over the hole, taking aim.

Merrick rolled and wisps of dust kicked up where the bullets
struck.

Then there was a click.

Empty.

A vicious smile rose to Merrick’s lips as the odds grew in
his favor. “It’s about time. Why don’t you come down here and fight like a
man…if you can remember that far back.”

Merrick stood, searching for his sword, but came up empty.
He must have lost it in the fall. That’s when he saw the pommel hanging over
the ledge. He tensed to leap when a shape dropped down through the opening.

His body automatically fell into a fighter’s stance, and he scanned
the room for a weapon. The place was stripped bare. All he had left was Trina’s
stake.

“I will enjoy watching the King prostitute your woman to the
highest bidder, helpless as they sink their fangs in her slender neck and
slowly drain her of blood. He’ll charge extra for tapping a vein.”

Merrick pushed away the images. He wouldn’t allow himself to
act rashly at the cost of Trina’s life. “Your brother put up little fight, dying
without taking a single shifter with him. Very lax. One might say hardly worth
the effort.

Brown eyes bled to blue as the vampire leapt the distance
between them. Merrick slashed out with the stake, but the angle was wrong. It
scraped along the vampire’s ribs, tearing through clothing instead of sinking
into the chest.

The vampire hissed as flesh sizzled. The smell of burnt,
rotten meat was nearly suffocating in the enclosed space.

The vampire whirled, fangs bared, but his eyes remained on
the stake, the first sign of fear revealing itself.

Merrick lifted the stake. “Trina made this specifically for your
King, but I don’t think she’d mind me testing it out first. The wood hurt to touch,
didn’t it? It must have cost her a fortune to get her hands on this large piece
of rowan. I thought your kind had destroyed it all.”

The vampire became quiet and even more leery as he circled,
favoring his side. “I’m going to enjoy bringing your head back to your witch and
watch the fight fade from her eyes.”

Merrick laughed, unable to imagine Trina sitting down and
taking anything without fighting. “She’s more liable to kill you than weep.”

The vampire charged. Merrick dropped on his back, kicked out
and levered the vampire over his head, something he’d picked up from Trina. The
body hit the wall with a resounding thud. Drywall crumbled and so much plaster fell
that the ceiling swayed, threatening to collapse.

Merrick flipped to his feet. The vampire stood more slowly,
his hair in disarray, clothes dirty and torn. One leg was bent at an odd angle.

And then he smiled. “Every second I delay you, imagine the
torture she’s suffering at the hands of the King.”

He was right. Merrick needed to finish this now. He glanced
at the ceiling and his sword. When his attention was diverted, the vampire moved.
Expecting it, Merrick sidestepped and slammed the stake into the vampire’s spine.

Ribs caved. Bones cracked.

The vampire twisted, raking claws down Merrick’s shoulders,
peeling strips of flesh from his back.

Fangs flashed forward, and Merrick brought up his arm to
protect his throat. Teeth latched onto his forearm and clamped down hard.

A growl rumbled up Merrick’s throat. He was pissed that this
vampire thought to delay him from reaching Trina. He shoved the stake higher
and pierced the heart. The cool flesh felt like rotten meat around his hand.

The vampire stiffened, biting down harder until one fang
struck bone and snapped off. The pain was breath stealing.

Life slowly faded from the last twin’s eyes, darkening them to
a muddy brown. Flesh withered, his hair thinned and fell out around them. The
dead weight dragged on his arm, and Merrick landed on his knee to avoid losing
a chunk of his flesh as the skeleton collapsed.

Merrick pulled back the stake and tucked it into the
waistband of his pants. With a quick twist, he broke the vampire’s jaw and
extracted his arm. Blood welled out of the puncture wounds, streaming down his fingers
to splotch on the floor, the saliva slowing the clotting.

It hurt like a bitch, so he knew it would heal. He dug into
the wound and withdrew the sheared-off tooth. He ripped off a portion of his
shirt and wrapped his arm in a hasty bandaged then took off running to find Trina
and bring her home where she belonged.

 

 

 

 

 

 
Chapter Thirty-five

 

T
rina
felt Beast’s nearness like a brush of fur against her mind. It helped her stay
awake and stay focused on not falling back into the void. The arm restraints
were loose enough to wiggle her fingers.

She lifted her hips and twisted her arm back to reach her atheme.
The cold metal of the cuffs cut into skin, pulling her up short. Her fingertips
brushed metal, but no matter how much she strained, she couldn’t grip the
handle. She tilted her hips for a better angle.

The sound of the knob turning froze her. Trina dropped back
to the table and slammed her eyes shut. The smell of moss clogged her nose. More
than one vampire had entered the room.

“Get her ready to travel.”

The King again.  

She concentrated on regulating her breathing. Cold fingers
worked the cuffs, and her heart leapt at the chance of freedom. She fought to
stay limp, repelled by the creepy touch on her body.

A hand slapped her face, and she nearly gasped, resorting to
biting the inside of her lip to remain quiet. A cool finger brushed down the
side of her temple, the drag of a fingernail skimmed along her skin. She felt it
cut her cheek. Her toes curled, and she barely managed to keep still.

“Carry her.”

The curt command nearly jarred her into action, but she
bided her time. She couldn’t take both of them at once. She felt her body being
pulled toward the end of the table. Her legs slipped off the edge, her weight
pulling her down. She plummeted, a strangled scream caught in her throat. Her
body fought to brace itself for impact.

Instead of crashing to the floor, she found herself thrown
over someone’s shoulder like a sack, her guts crushed to her spine. Breathing
became labored and a wave of nausea made her glad she hadn’t eaten. Once they
left the room, she cracked open her eyes and surveyed her surroundings.

A hallway.

Only two vampires.

No sign of Merrick.

Cold air whirled around her. An exit. Both excitement and
dread filled her. She tipped her head to see the King launch straight up,
disappearing through a hatch in the ceiling.

If they took her from the building, Merrick would never
catch them again. She kneed the vampire in the chest, but it proved ineffective
without enough momentum behind the blow. She bent her arm, using her elbow to
nail him repeatedly in the head, temple and ear.  

The bastard gave no reaction that he even felt her attack.
It only served to annoy the shit out of her.

She wiggled until the vampire staggered like a drunk after a
binge. When it didn’t slow him enough, she grabbed her knife, and shoved her
blade into his back, angling for his heart.

But the logistics were off, so she only managed to nick it.

The vampire stumbled, and Trina took advantage of the
distraction to shimmy free. Gravity took hold and she tightened her grip on the
knife, bracing to take the brunt of the fall on her shoulder. She rolled,
coming to her feet.

The vampire whirled with a frightening speed she had no hope
of beating. She heard shifters fighting to rescue her, but they were much too
far away to be of help.

It disconcerted her to see the face of a kid in front of her
and not that of a hardened killer she’d expected. She knew his innocence was a
lie, but it caused herself to hesitate when she would’ve struck.

Then he smiled. Fangs flashed, and whatever doubt held her
back vanished. Any innocence this man once had was torn away when he was
turned. She couldn’t allow her be taken again.

She called for magic, but nothing happened. She backed up a
step, trying not to panic and pricked her finger. Blood well, but the expected
rush of power never came. The drugs and blood loss had taken their toll.

She backed up again, circling when the vampire took a step
toward her. Trina gathered the magic that lingered in the air as quickly as she
could, the meager supply laughable.

Apparently, the vampire thought so as well and smirked. “What
are you going to do? Give me a rash?” The vampire sauntered forward like a
cocky teenager and the wound in his back had never happened. “Don’t make me
hurt you. I might I like it.”

It was now or never.

Trina threw the magic at his face. Without her full strength,
her blood didn’t erode the skin like last time.

But her toss hit true, striking the vampire directly in the eyes.
He screamed, the pitch so piercing that her ears rang. He clawed at his eyes,
but the damage had already been done.

The too-pale eyes grew dull, the red irritation resembling
chemical burns. Tears of blood trailed down his face. The severe allergic
reaction had blinded him. The bastards could heal fast, so she only had minutes
before he would regain his vision.

She took a step back to escape when he spoke.

“I can hear your breathing, the beat of your heart.

Denial was immediate. She gave a couple of experimental
moves, and he mimicked her with amazing accuracy.

Disappointment struck fast. If she ran, he would catch her. Though
blinded, he was still stronger and faster. It would be futile.

Fear gathered around her like a coat, chilling her with the
only option left. Eliminate the threat.

The vampire swung wildly, his sharp claws narrowly missing
her face. Determination to survive and get back to Merrick kicked her training
into high gear. Though the vampires didn’t want her dead, wounded would suit
them perfectly fine. She’d use that to her advantage.

She took her cue from Merrick. Since most humans fled from a
threat, she did the opposite.

She would not be prey.

She would not be hunted down as a helpless victim.

She darted forward, taking a blow to her arm. Nails raked
deep and dragged down her arm, and he grabbed her wrist. His brutal grip ground
the bones of her wrists together, and his nails pierced her skin. Bile rose in
the back of her throat at the near crippling pain. She gritted her teeth,
refusing to give him the satisfaction of screaming.

He smiled in triumph. “Got you.”

Trina took advantage of his overconfidence, allowing herself
to be pulled closer. She tightened her grip on the knife. When his fetid breath
brushed her face, she swung upward with all her strength. The blade sank true,
slipping under his ribs to strike his heart.

A look of surprise crossed his face. It was a complete shock
that a human had the audacity to kill him. “What did you do?”

In that instant, he looked like the child he appeared, no
more than sixteen when he’d been changed. A twinge of guilt burned the back of
her eyes at his complete bafflement.

That changed when he bared his fangs and lunged for her
throat.

Trina jerked back, only to be pulled up short by his grip on
her arm. Nails tore deeper. Unbalanced, they stumbled and fell in a tangle of
arms and legs.

She hit the ground hard, smacking her head on the floor. The
vampire tumbled with her, nearly smothering her when he landed. The blade
between them slid to the hilt in his chest.

Though vampires didn’t need to breathe, she heard the hiss
of air leave his lungs one last time as he died. The expression on his face
grew lax as life vanished from his body for the final time.

The skin shriveled and turned leathery. Lips pulled back
from his mouth. Decay swept across his face, blackening the skin.

Now that the fight was over, reaction set in with a
vengeance, and she couldn’t stop trembling. It was all she could do to catch
her breath with his weight crushing her. Only a small trickle of air reached
her lungs. Blood dripped over her hands until she was coated in the room-temperature
syrup. Injuries registered in aches and pains, and she tried to gather the
strength to push the body off her and find Merrick.

* * *

Merrick ran full tilt down the hall toward the sounds of the
fading fight. The sudden silence had his hackles rising, and he pushed himself
harder. He swung around the corner to see two bodies tangled together on the floor.
What arrested him, what nearly caused him to trip over his own feet, was the
spill of Trina’s bright hair across the floor.

The site of it was so unexpected he froze. She lay so still
that not even her chest moved. He listened for her heartbeat, but could pick up
nothing over the roar of his own blood rushing to his head.

The stake he held dropped from nerveless fingers as the pool
of blood welled beneath her. Even from a distance, he could smell that a lot of
it was hers. Beast clawed at the inside of his chest, wanting out to seek
vengeance, but there was no one to fight, no demons to slay.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, taking a slow step
forward as the world around him slowly crumbled to ash. His chest burned, and
he couldn’t catch his breathe.

She couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t believe it, but the
growing darkness in his mind belied the frail hope. Beast growled low in his
throat, wanting freedom, and Merrick had no will to deny him. Without Trina
there at his side, nothing else mattered.

When the vampire twitched, his unbearable rage found an
outlet. Merrick picked up speed down the hall, his long strides eating the
distance until he was at a near run. He couldn’t stand the thought of that
monster touching his Trina.

Then the body slumped to the side.

He skidded to a stop when he saw Trina struggling to pull
herself free from the weight pinning her.

She was alive.

His brain didn’t seem to comprehend what he was seeing. The
strength dropped out of him, and he couldn’t move. He wanted her to be alive so
badly, he was afraid he was imagining it. Trina was strong, but she didn’t have
the brute force to kill a vampire in hand-to-hand combat.

Despite all logic, Trina was on her knees, battling to
stand. Blood soaked her clothes, marred her too-pale skin. Fresh wounds continued
to bleed as his fierce warrior rose to her feet, a bloody knife clutched in her
hands.

“Merrick.”

His hear leapt at Trina’s welcoming smile and the relief in
her voice. He couldn’t smile, couldn’t make his face work after the fear of
losing her had nearly destroyed him.

He wanted to kiss her then shake her until she realized she couldn’t
take such chances with his heart. He wouldn’t survive it. He growled, a deep
rumble as if Beast agreed, and rushed toward her. He opened his mouth to give
her hell when a shape dropped down and loomed behind her.

The King.

Determined to protect Trina, Merrick picked up speed and
pushed himself harder.

And knew he would never make it in time.

The vampire’s eyes glowed an eerie light blue in the
hallway. Spittle laced with rotted blood dribbled down his chin as he reached
for Trina. “She’s mine.”

Giving into his beast’s urging, Merrick yanked off what remained
of his shirt. Beast rose under his skin, not retreating at the bright burn of the
pain from the coming change.

They pushed past the agony. Bones cracked, muscles pulled.
Fur exploded over his flesh, pushing through his pores. When he dropped to all
fours, he landed on familiar paws.

Joy rippled through him along with the vicious need to
protect what was his. Baring his fangs, he charged, keeping his body low to the
ground. Merrick forced himself between Trina and the vampire, knocking Trina out
of the way and to safety.

Not giving the vampire time to attack, Merrick sank his
teeth deep into flesh. It tasted wrong, but he resisted the urge to release his
hold. Instead, he tossed his head, ripping a chunk of flesh from the vampire’s thigh.

A high scream of rage bellowed in the narrow hallway. Almost
immediately, the vampire struck back, and his nails raked at Merrick. His mane
protected his neck, but blood dribbled down his shoulders, matting his fur.

BOOK: BloodSworn
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