Reign of the Vampires (13 page)

The smell of so much blood made her predatory instinct take over. All she wanted to do was feed. Her adrenaline pumped in huge waves from killing the rogue vamp. Focus. She had to focus.

William began losing consciousness. He needed her blood. The bullet had gone straight through him. There was no UV inside.

“Leave us,” she said in a quiet voice. She turned to William and brushed back his hair. “William, can you hear me?”

He nodded.

“William, it’s time now. I have to bond you to me, to make you stronger. Otherwise, I don’t think you’ll make it. I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

He didn’t make any motion of a reply. Taking a deep breath, she rolled up his sleeve; his skin was milky-white and smooth. Lifting his wrist to her mouth, she bit down. He cried out and grabbed at her blouse. Then she took her own wrist and bit into the flesh. Lifting William’s head into her lap, she dripped the blood from her wrist into his open mouth; she drank from his at the same time. As first, he sputtered and coughed. But after a minute he swallowed. Again and again he swallowed, until he lifted his hand and pulled her wrist down to his mouth. He sucked at it like a baby at his mother’s breast. Danika stopped drinking from him and sealed the wound. Stroking his hair she watched the edges of his wound cauterize. When it did, she pried his fingers off her wrist and pulled away from him. She licked her wound shut and continued to stroke his hair till he passed out.

Minutes later Doc hurried down the red carpet toward her.

“Is he dead? Let me get a drip started for him,” he said.

“The bullet passed through, and I’ve begun the process with him. In doing so, his wound has already stopped bleeding and is healing. He needs rest, and tomorrow he’ll need more of my blood. But I think he’ll be fine.”

“Well, if you know so much, what do you need me for?” Doc asked.

Doc was an old codger who was grumpy and wise beyond his three hundred years. She smiled at him. “You’re right, Doc. You’re the human fixer, you tell me what you think.”

Doc peered at her through thick spectacles, and then assessed the wound. After he finished bandaging William, he said, “The bullet went right through. Because of your blood, he should make it, but he’ll need more tomorrow. I’ll watch for signs of infection, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ll give him a shot of antibiotics.” Danika had to turn away so he wouldn’t notice her smile.

“Let’s get him to his room,” she said. “He’ll be more comfortable there. Oh, and Doc, you can take his bracelet off now.”

“But he isn’t fully bonded to you yet,” Doc protested.

Danika gazed into William’s peaceful face. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, he is.” Her chest tightened. He’d taken too much from her. He’d needed it to heal, but doing so might cause a result she wasn’t prepared to deal with. But time would tell. In three days when the bonding was complete, she would see.

Two house guards carried William out of the atrium. Danika stayed behind, ordering the house slaves to scrub the floor. She didn’t want any stains on the white granite. Silly that she should hold court in the one white-floored room of the house. More blood was bound to spill in here than in any other.

The night had taken its toll, but her body was still filled with the adrenaline of the evening, and with William’s and Matthew’s blood. They swirled around inside her, healing and strengthening her.

Neeman waited for her in the front hall. His eyes were like blue glass, floating on a white sea. His body was rigid with tension; he was obviously in distress. The other trackers were nowhere to be seen.

“Are you all right?” He moved toward her in a quick, heavy step.

“I’m fine. It was stupid of me; I was careless.” She felt foolish for not having expected something to happen. She’d only overseen one other rogue trial before. And the girl’s body language should have told Danika what was brewing. But she’d been so concerned with the club that she hadn’t even cared that William’s presence was causing such distress.

“I never would have brought her in flex cuffs if I thought there was even an ounce of a chance she was dangerous.”

“I know.” Danika gave a warm smile. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you. She’d been on synthetic for days. How could you have known?”

“Danika, you need to be careful—”

“I am being careful, Neeman, that’s why I sent Mason to you for training. To keep me safe.”

He reached out for her, his eyes softening. He stroked her hand. “I can protect you. I still want to. After all these years… When Mandy grabbed my gun and pointed it at you, I was frozen in terror. Paralyzed at the thought of losing you. But I promise you, Danika, I will never let that happen again.”

His sudden tenderness made Danika’s chest tighten. It was more than she’d seen from him in their years together.

“Neeman.” She stepped closer to him. “Rogues are unpredictable. That’s why we have the quarantine period and the cleansing. There was nothing you could’ve done. You were standing next to her, not watching at her as I was. I should have seen it. I did see it, I just didn’t pay attention. I wanted so much to know who gave her the blood and where the club was.”

There was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to feel comfort in a pair of big, strong arms. But it wasn’t Neeman she wanted. The scent of Mason was all around him. The sweet, strong scent of something so intoxicating that she thought she might burst if she didn’t taste it. Again, her gums ached. She needed Mason. It was crazy. She’d seen the male twice, but something about him had caused such a reaction in her, the likes of which she hadn’t had before.

Neeman smoothed the hair from her cheek and wiped at a spot of blood caked there. She stepped away from him, then turned so as not to face him. “How is Mason?”

Neeman was silent for a moment. Then his tone of voice changed. He was all business again. “I don’t know why but he holds back when we spar. He takes everything in, nothing escapes him. Almost like a vampyr, but...more. He still has a rage problem. He needs more time to control it.”

Danika nodded and turned to face him. “Unfortunately, tonight has proven that there’s no time. It can’t wait. Please bring him in two days. I need to finish bonding with William, and then I’ll bond Mason. I will not hide. Fear is a luxury I cannot afford.” Though afraid was exactly what she was. Now more than ever she was convinced someone was after her.

Neeman’s eyes widened. “Danika, he isn’t ready. If you bond with him at this point and he’s unable to control his rage, it could pour into you and cause you a problem, as well. Not to mention that if he doesn’t control it, his judgment will be compromised and—”

“I appreciate your concern. I know you still regret what happened with Georgus at the truce conference. But you were young, and new to guarding. No one blames you.”

Neeman said nothing. He’d been sent to guard a Vampire lord at a truce conference more than twenty years ago. But his pent-up anger issues, along with his turning, caused him to lash out. And in the end, his hotheaded temper had caused an incident. There’d been a death, and though he wasn’t blamed, everyone knew that if Neeman’s actions had been different, the incident could’ve been prevented.

“You need to forgive yourself and move on, Neeman. You need to learn to let the past go and get a life for yourself now.” She wasn’t talking about just the incident years before.

Chase flew into the entrance hall. He rushed to Danika’s side as Neeman moved away.

“Nika! Are you all right? What happened?” Chase boomed. Taking her by the arms, he looked her over from head to toe.

“I’m all right, Uncle. Nothing happened.” She brushed him off.

“I heard you oversaw a rogue vamp trial tonight. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, or I’d have been here sooner.”

“But you gave the file to William,” Danika said.

“It was in an envelope on my desk, addressed to you. I didn’t open it. I’m so sorry.” Chase took a step closer to Neeman. “You. How could you have let this happen? You of all people, Neeman.”

“Chase, stop.” Danika stepped between them. “This is not Neeman’s fault. It’s mine.”

“No, Danika,” said Neeman. “Chase is right. I was in charge of the prisoner. It’s my fault. I apologize again.”

“Neeman, you don’t need to—”

“I’ll make sure Mason is delivered in two days. I’m glad that you were not hurt, my lord. Good evening to you.” Neeman bowed stiffly.

Danika wanted to go after him, but doing so would only encourage what could not be. She watched him leave and then rounded on Chase. “That was not necessary.”

“Nika. Someday you’ll learn. You’re a coven lord now, and people are held to a higher standard when it comes to your well-being.”

Danika scowled and headed for the stairs. Neeman never would’ve done something that would put her in danger. She hadn’t known till seeing the way he’d looked at her tonight. He still held out hope. But for them, there was no hope. He was not the one.

Chapter
10

Neeman returned from the court hearing in a foul mood. He didn’t say anything to Mason about it, but anger and frustration rolled off him in waves. He pulled Mason into the training center, working without a break for the three final hours preceding dawn. He pushed Mason harder than ever.

The following evening Neeman returned in the same foul mood, and announced that the next day Mason was leaving. Mason spent that entire evening training.

The entire Tracking Squad attended the session. They worked him with drills, then simulated situations that he might encounter. He spent most of the night controlling his mounting anxiety about being surrounded by so many Vampires at once. But he’d held back his beast and hadn’t lost his temper. Finally they went random. Attacking as a group, then individually, and ending with Mason and Neeman.

By four in the morning, Mason was winded, and every part of him ached. He hadn’t given it his all yet, and somehow Neeman knew that. What Neeman didn’t know was what giving his all meant.

“It’s you and me now and we’ll keep going till one of us gives in, or passes out.” Neeman’s voice was deadly.

Mason nodded. He’d have to judge this carefully; he didn’t want to hurt Neeman. Before Mason was ready, Neeman was on him so fast that all Mason could do was push him off. He kicked Mason in the gut and Mason staggered, but caught himself on one knee. Mason got up in time to see Neeman’s fist flying through the air. He whirled sideways and Neeman’s blow landed on the floor. Neeman came at him again, pummeling him. Neeman had a wild gleam in his eyes. In the weeks previous Neeman had been training him, guiding him, trying to help him improve. This time was different. This time it was personal. Mason didn’t know why, and he didn’t care. He waited till the right moment, and then he struck.

Neeman’s favorite move was a complex maneuver where he would attack, then feint to the right, spin, and knock down his foe from behind; and Mason saw it coming. So when Neeman feinted to the right, Mason did the same. Instead of attacking, he spun around to face Neeman, who was ready to attack. As Neeman struck out, Mason countered by hitting hard, knocking Neeman off his feet. Mason took the advantage and hit him again. Then picked Neeman up over his head and threw him across the arena. Neeman hit the opposite wall with a crack. Plaster rained down as part of the wall gave way. And that was it for the fight.

Neeman lay unconscious. Mason stood breathing hard, while the other trackers ran to Neeman’s aid. They stared at Mason. But Mason stood, head held high, daring them to come at him again. Like a pack of dogs, once their alpha was down, no one else attacked.

Guilt stirred in Mason’s gut for having used his strength, but he’d had no choice. His blood was hot in his veins, and he felt the burn of his skin. He was glad they were all a good forty feet away, because had they been nearer, they would’ve felt it as well.

Blinking, Mason breathed deeply, using the techniques Neeman taught him. It was several minutes before his temperature cooled and the rage tapered off. He stretched his arms and walked in a circle. The glint of something shiny caught his eye. It was a small knife. Mason’s heart thudded. It must have fallen off Neeman when Mason threw him. The trackers were busy with Neeman, so Mason crossed over and picked it up, pushing it into his boot.

Neeman sprang to his feet a moment later, his eyes alight for danger. He located Mason and relaxed his stance. Neeman sent everyone out¸ assuring them he was uninjured.

“I’ve never seen a human like you before, but I’m sure you get that a lot,” said Neeman. “There’s something you haven’t told me about yourself. I won’t pry, it isn’t my place. But I will say this. The Vampire lord you are going to guard is someone whom I respect, and care about. Guard well and do your duty. Don’t let your rage or your emotions take over. Guard with your life, or you and I will meet again, under very unfavorable circumstances, I am afraid.”

Mason nodded.

Neeman turned to leave, then stopped. He stood for a moment, then bowed to Mason. Mason’s brows furrowed. A Vampire or vampyr showing a sign of respect to a human was unheard of. Mason bowed in return.

“You’d be a worthy vampyr. I pray someday your new master may see that as well, and do you the great honor,” he said in a strange voice. “You will be a great strength to your new owner.”

It would never happen. “Thank you.”

Once before, someone had tried to turn him, but it hadn’t worked then, and it wouldn’t work now. It didn’t matter anyway though, because Mason had formulated his plan. When he was delivered to the Vampire lord, he would wait until they were alone. And then, when Garon was most vulnerable, Mason would strike. He would kill the Vampire lord and make a run for it. Mason prayed that in doing so, he wouldn’t have to kill too many of the trackers. He liked them, especially Neeman. Besides it would bring pain to the female Vampire lord Danika, Neeman’s mate. And as much as he didn’t want to be anyone’s slave, Mason didn’t want to cause her pain, either.

“Bathe and prepare,” said Neeman. “We go to your lord when we rise.”