Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(60)

Just as suddenly as it began, the attack ceased. My ears were ringing, making it impossible to focus. When Christian raised his head, the strained look on his face told the story. I’d seen that same look before when he’d taken too many bullets.

I threw my bleeding arm in front of his mouth. “Hurry up and drink!”

Without argument, he punched his fangs out and bit into my arm. Christian drew blood until I heard bullets popping out of his body and hitting the floor. Once he’d taken enough to heal, he licked my wound and sat up with a look of murder in his eyes.

“Ready yourself,” he said, shaking out of his coat. “They’re coming to kill us.”

“They? How many are there?”

Christian’s eyes scanned my body, and it didn’t take long for him to notice the gunshot wound on my leg. He crouched over me and shoved his wrist into my mouth. “Bite!”

I shook my head, stunned by the offering.

“Listen to me, and listen good,” he began, still holding his wrist against my mouth. “You won’t be able to run far with that leg gushing blood. But we both know you have temporary strength when you drink my blood, and you’re going to need all the strength you can get. Take my vein, Raven. Heal yourself.”

Regardless of what my mind told me, my Vampire instinct knew exactly what it wanted. I resisted at first, afraid of that savage side of me that felt disconnected from my humanity. But when Christian’s decadent blood filled my mouth, my taste buds awakened, invigorated by his adrenaline and thirst to kill. The emotions ripened as they mixed with my own blood. Which were his emotions, and which were mine? Was I the one who wanted to kill mercilessly, tasting the blood of my victims? He retracted his arm before I could get a second swallow, but one was all I needed to heal.

Christian and I faced the back of the van.

When the door burst open, my instincts kicked in.

Fight or die.





Chapter 18





Shepherd paced the halls of the expansive mansion that was closing in on him like solitary confinement. He’d obeyed Viktor’s orders to stay behind while Christian, Claude, and Raven were on the front lines. Viktor was probably afraid Shepherd would do something unpredictable.

Maybe he was right.

Shepherd paused at the end of a hall and gazed up at the keystone on the archway of the first floor. It was bad enough he was on lockdown, but on top of that, Niko had been shadowing him around the mansion. He was stealthy, always lurking just around the corner, but he wasn’t smooth enough to get past Shepherd. Niko could shield his energy and silence his footsteps all he wanted, but his emotional imprints were everywhere.

The heavy tread of Shepherd’s boots bounced off the walls as he headed toward the back of the mansion and up the stairs. His partner was busy trying to close a deal on a baby auction. Shepherd had nothing to occupy his time. He’d already polished his weapons before heading into the training room, but hours had passed since then.

He was restless.

Agitated.

All he could think about was that man’s face. Shepherd might not have recognized him had it not been for those piercing eyes—the last thing Maggie ever saw. Maybe that was what burned him the most. It hadn’t been Shepherd’s eyes she saw while she took her last breath. He hadn’t gotten to hold her hand and tell her it would be okay, even if the words were lies to ease her suffering. He’d spent years thinking about what he could have given Maggie in her final moments. Words of comfort she never received, a tender kiss, the touch of his hand. And most of all, his ability to erase the pain. Sensors could make a man forget they were dying. He could have eased her suffering if only he’d been close enough to touch her. And maybe with a miracle, he could have healed her. Just maybe.

Shepherd reached in the front pocket of his loose jeans and pulled out a box of smokes. He stopped at the corner of the stairs by a statue and struck a match against its face, lighting the end of his cigarette and drawing in that wonderful first taste. Sensors didn’t have to worry about bullshit diseases like lung cancer or emphysema, so a man could truly enjoy his vices with no guilt. Smoking wasn’t something he’d done much around Maggie; she didn’t like the taste on his breath or the smell on his clothes. But Shepherd indulged in smoking because it brought him comfort and pleasure the way a familiar blanket might to anyone else. A good cigarette was the one thing he could count on in stressful times. It topped off a great meal or complemented a strong drink.

It also calmed him the fuck down in moments like these.

He passed one tall window after the next until he reached one of the central halls, which was where Wyatt’s game room was located. Instead of going in, he leaned against the wall by the open door and listened to the conversations overlapping inside.

Blue’s voice sounded surprised. “What do you mean it’s over?”

“Just what I said,” Wyatt replied. “It’s gone… as in poof.”

“Gone. I do not understand gone. Did we lose the bid?” Viktor asked.

“It didn’t close,” Wyatt said, frustration edging his voice. “The auctions always end with either a winner or the seller closing the curtain if the price doesn’t meet their requirements. But it’s just gone, like he took it down. I hit refresh, and I’m trying to see if maybe it’s a server issue. Just give me a minute.”