Eternal Captive: Mark of the Vampire (19 page)

He nodded. “On the island, after drinking from you I felt…a surge of power. Feels the same way now.”

“In what way?”

“I have strength,” he began. “In body and in
mind…I feel supported somehow. It’s hard to explain, but it’s there, deeply embedded in my cells.”

“For a Breeding Male, blood from a
veana
should make the urge to breed even stronger,” she said, her brain spinning from such a possibility. “It shouldn’t take it away.”

He shrugged, said softly, “Just telling you what I’m living, breathing. Your blood felt like sweet sanity running down my throat.”

Bronwyn shook her head against the words, the incredible suggestion. As a scientist, as one who knew the genetic makeup of a Breeding Male, his reaction to her blood should’ve been the opposite of what he was claiming. And yet crazy feelings of hope and pride bloomed within her. To be the one to sustain his sanity long-term—be the only one who could feed this captive beast after taking it from him in the first place?

God, she wanted that. She wanted it to be her blood that was his magic potion.

Just her blood.

Then a thought entered her head. A scientist’s thought—not a
veana
’s. “What about the Order’s blood? Maybe you should try that, see if it would have the same effect?”

“The Order’s blood will have no effect,” he stated flatly.

“Why would you say that? You have no idea—”

“I know. Fuck. I just know. It will do nothing but send me back into the mind of the Breeding Male.”

Lucian felt a sudden shift inside himself. A shift in the room too, and the black night outside the window. His eyes narrowed on Bronwyn, and a shot of nausea
so tremendous he had to swallow repeatedly came over him. Something was way off, something was terribly and uniquely wrong. He drew in a breath as a volatile shot of misery moved through him.

Like a tidal wave.

To his very bones.

But it was not the misery of the Breeding Male—no, that side of him had been pure madness, unstoppable lust, untamed hunger. This, this feeling coming over him now was the sickness of a
paven
who had done something so vile, so unforgivable that he wished for his end.

Panic gripped him.

But what was it?

What was wrong with him now? Maybe he did need the Order’s blood? Maybe he needed to consume a member of the Order whole…

He suppressed the bitter laughter hovering on his tongue. This was complete bullshit. The Order and their blood—neither would do anything for him but feed him. It would not soothe his beast, quell his lust, or tamp down his rage.

Not as Bronwyn’s blood would.

As it had minutes ago.

Fuck, there it was again. The strange sensation, and yet within the waves of continued nausea, he could still feel those wisps of lingering calm that tasted exquisitely of her.

He closed his eyes, searched his mind, his insides—his blood to find it, this beautiful sensation, this unbelievable calm. Ahhhhh…there. Once again, he felt her blood rush through his veins, soothing, supporting, easing. It hadn’t taken much, but the amount of
blood he’d managed to barbarically extract from her had been enough to feel her.

Enough for him to hear her…

He froze at the thought, confused, careful—stunned. Bronwyn was a Pureblood
veana
—there were no beats of life inside her blood. He would feel her, yes—but hear her? Never. And yet the sensation, the sound was there. The steady, even beats of life—the rush of another in his veins.

Oh, God.

Lucian’s soul died right there on the floor of the cottage.

There was only one reason for Bronwyn’s blood to have a rhythm, a movement…

A child
.

Oh, God.

His child
.

Shock waves slammed into his mind.

No!
Fuck no!

His head began to pound, his skin burning as though he lived in the center of a forest fire.

Fucking hell!
He didn’t…shit! He didn’t do that to her—saddle Bronwyn with a
balas
!

“Lucian?” she said, her voice threaded with concern. “What’s wrong?”

He stared right through her with unseeing eyes…

“You’re so pale,” she continued, truly distressed now. “Are you in pain? Oh, God, is it coming back?”

Calm down, asshole,
he warned himself.
Calm the fuck down now! Agitation will only bring back the Breeding Male, set off the hunger and lust and uncontrollable violence.
His head spun. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe he was only hearing himself—
his
new beginnings of life.

He slammed his eyes shut and felt for it again, searching his blood for her and for…

No. God, no…

What had he done?

His lids lifted, slowly, sadly, and he stared at her, horrified. There was no mistaking what every cell in his body knew and cried out with animalistic pride. Bronwyn Kettler was in
swell
. The one thing she’d feared above all else, and he had done it to her.

Lucian Roman.

The Breeding Male.

A
s he sat at the long table of judgment listening to his fellow Order members discuss new provisions for the inmates at Mondrar, Titus felt the shift in his son—the shift into Breeding Male status. A wave of sadness moved through him, a sadness he could feel only because he was no longer the Breeding Male. The irony was not lost on him. Now that he could care about the children he’d created, they wanted nothing whatsoever to do with him.

It was not as if he could blame them really. And they didn’t know or understand how he had shed his Breeding Male chains—they didn’t know, could never know how he’d bargained with Cruen for his seat on the Order—and his step into sanity. The blood Cruen had given him had rid him of his animal-like desires and ways, and in return he’d allowed Cruen to take all the samples of his Breeding Male blood that he required.

And he’d never asked why.

Perhaps he should have. Perhaps his son was now paying for his father’s mistakes once again. Whatever Cruen was cooking up in that secret laboratory of his had everything to do with Lucian, and Titus would do everything in his power to stop him.

A slam of raw pain stuttered through Titus then. The connection he had with Lucian was unlike any he had ever had with one of his children. He could communicate with the
paven
, feel his deep feelings and fear, and shift his physical body—beyond what his Order powers allotted him.

It was no doubt the Breeding Male bond.

But Titus couldn’t go anywhere near Lucian—not now, not yet—not when the
paven
was just at the height of his change. Without Cruen’s blood to keep him even, keep him in the Order, there was a possibility that Lucian’s change could bring back the change in Titus.

He wouldn’t risk it.

“Do you not agree, Order Member Titus?”

The words of his neighbor thrust Titus back into the present, into the world he never wanted to leave, and he nodded sagely. “Wise course of action. Yes.”

The provisions he’d agreed to were lost on him, but his Order status, his mental and physical capabilities were not, and he would do anything to keep them secure—anything to keep his Breeding Male beast secure inside his unbeating heart. For he loved his son, cared deeply about his son, but he would never join him in the hunt, or in that devastating state of pain and pleasure, again.

“We’re wasting time.” Alexander dropped from the last step in the tunnels and walked with his brother and their mates down the hallway toward the weapons storeroom. “If she won’t answer my calls, then we’re going to have to pay her a visit.”

Sara tossed him a sideways glare that screamed, “Are you insane?”

He was holding her hand, and with a quick movement of the wrist, he flipped his arm so that it was wrapped around her waist. “I play games with only one female in this life,” he growled.

“And I am grateful for that,
Paven
,” she said, her brows lifted. “But Dillon has always been intent about keeping her private life, work and otherwise, separate from the personal one she shares with us.”

“She hasn’t shared anything with us in weeks, Sara.”

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a soft smile. “Awww, the big, bad vampire misses his verbal sparring partner.”

But Alex wasn’t playing. “This is more than concern over a friend’s whereabouts. This is Luca’s life, his future. D’s being a pain the ass. She’ll just have to deal with the upset. Don’t you agree, Nicky?”

Nicholas held tight to his
veana
as they turned down another lap of tunnel. “I do. But you stand in her line of fire when you tell her that, cool?”

Alex snorted. “Chickenshit.”

Nicky didn’t even growl. “Only when it comes to that
veana
. She’s scary.”

Kate laughed as they entered the storeroom. “Nicholas Roman, afraid of a girl. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Nicky snarled playfully, then turned to his true mate quickly and gently pressed her up against the wall. “Watch yourself,
Veana
,” he warned.

Her eyes sparkled. “Or what?”

He leaned in, so close their breaths mingled. “Or I may have to put you over my knee.”

“Promises, promises,” she whispered against his mouth, then pulled back slightly. “Hey, aren’t we here for weapons,
Paven
?”

Grinning, he kissed her, slow and hungry, then said, “If I say I have your gun right here, baby, will you think it crude or pleasing?”

She arched her back. “Mmmmm…Both. But I like it both ways.”

He kissed her again. “Then maybe you should undo my fly and check your weapon, make sure it’s—”

A knife whizzed past Nicholas and hit the wall five feet left of his ear.

“Hey,” Nicholas grumbled, glancing over his shoulder.

“The next one will nick your neck,
Duro
,” Alexander warned, already balls deep in weapons. “Spawn on your own time. We have work to do.”

“I should’ve been an only child,” Nicholas grumbled, backing away from Kate and heading for the weapons stash.

Kate laughed. “What fun would that be? No one to give you shit—no one to pull you out of shit.”

“Well said.” Smiling, Sara leaned against the table that housed over one hundred guns. “Though I’m still waiting for my brother to pull me out of shit. Maybe someday…”

Alexander cupped his mate’s neck and dropped a kiss to her lips. After a devastating fire that Sara had accidentally set when she was just a child—a fire that claimed the life of her father and irrevocably damaged her brother Gray’s hands and his mental state—she spent years with her nose in the books, becoming a psychiatrist. All for one purpose: to bring her brother out of his mentally unreachable state. But now that he was out, recovered and cognizant of the hidden secret of their mother’s, that he and his sister were Impure vampires, the male had made it clear he had little or no time for his family. He was on some mission—Impure rights or some such bullshit—and refused to take the time to call or see his sister.

Pissed Alex off, but he wasn’t about to let Sara know it. She needed his support not his anger.

“What about trying to find Gray?” Nicholas asked, pulling a Beretta 96 from the shelf. “He and D did have something…a friendship, or maybe it was more of a mutual hatred of each other.”

“My brother has also been unreachable for weeks now,” Sara said, the worry evident in her blue eyes. “He’s involved in some kind of ritual with a couple of Impures.”

“Ritual,” Alexander muttered, forgetting his vow to keep silent on the Gray front. “Can’t wait till that bullshit begins. Another push for an Impure uprising. And what now? Gray Donohue instead of madvamp Ethan Dare at the head?”

“God, I hope not,” Sara said sedately. “But he does seem determined to support ‘his’ people.”

Alexander snorted. “As if we don’t have enough to
fight without a new war being waged.” Suddenly he noticed Sara digging in the stockpile and asked, “What are you doing, my love?”

“What does it look like?” she said easily. “I’m coming with you, so I figure I should be packing.”

Nicholas glanced over at Kate and grinned.

Sara held up a small gun. “Packing light.”

“No.” Alexander said the word as though it was all he needed to say to have Sara reverse her action and her choice.

“Did you just say ‘no’ to me?” Sara turned and eyeballed Kate. “Did he just say that?”

Trying to suppress a laugh, Kate said, “I believe he did.” Then, eyeing a particularly shiny Glock, she added, “Hey, you know I’d be all over this if I didn’t have Mr. Ladd to take care of.”

Choosing another tack, Alexander put down his weapon and pulled his mate close. “My love, I don’t know what we’re going to encounter. Could be dangerous—”

“We’re going to encounter Dillon,” Sara said tightly. “And she’s a friend; she trusts me.”

“Sara—”

“I get the danger. I really do. But I’m a part of this family and I can offer something here. She’ll listen to me, Alex. And if you’re trying to get information out of her that is buried, information she doesn’t want to share, you’re going to need me.” She lifted her brows. “So. Deal.”

She broke away from him and placed her gun in the back of her jeans. “I’m no warrior like the two of you,” she said, looking up at both Alex and Nicholas. “But
I’ve gained some skills since I’ve been here, and I’m ready to try them out.”

As always, Celestine had come through for him—this time with the location of Cruen’s laboratory. For Syn, flashing into the small ski town and hiking up into the mountains hadn’t been an issue. The problem was, the compound itself was a right bitch and a half to get into. The grounds alone were hardwired with some serious Grade A magic, and as Synjon stalked the perimeter like a cat, he surmised that getting into the area where prisoners were held was going to be pretty sodding beastly.

But he would. If Bronwyn was in there, he would get to her and get her out. He wasn’t losing another female, love of his life or not.

Under the spotlight of the moon, his lips lifted, his fangs extending. And after he rescued the
veana
, he’d return to rip the skull off the bugger who’d nicked her in the first place, then drop his sorry carcass at the feet of the Order.