The Way You Bite(55)

Blay’s face soured. “I’m not impressed with your handling of her up to this point. Ryder might suffice to provide her any necessary blood from this point on.”

“Now, I am going to order you. She comes with me.” He warned Blay telepathically, “Resist and I will make sure your dead status becomes reality.”

Blay stepped back with wide eyes. “Why?”

He answered telepathically. “She’s mine.”

“Like forever shit?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be damned.” Blay nodded his head in respect. “Of course. She goes with you.”

Lexan tried to cycle down from the red haze of crazy at the thought of someone taking Vee from him. “Things have changed, Blay. Ambrose DiFalco hit me with this death shot. On purpose.”

“Christ.” Blay shook his head and released a long exhale. He texted on his cell phone. “Before we march into battle, Lexan, may I suggest you contact Viktor DiFalco. He should hear what his stupid kid did direct from you. He might not want war. Or this might be his plan.” He glanced around the room. “Julio, take your people and go out the back. Go to your primary retreat. Ryder, you’re with me. Lexan, you and your boys will come with Vee and me to Canada.”

“Canada?” Lexan said.

“It’s safe, neutral, and far the hell away from here. We can take my plane. But before we go, I need to collect a certain forgetful vampire runt who will be taking this journey with us.”





Chapter Twenty-One


No spit. Vee worked her tongue against the sensation she’d sucked on a cotton ball. Disgusting. Time to get moving, but she was exhausted as if she’d had a flu, not that she’d ever had a viral infection. She assumed it’d feel like this—drained to the point she couldn’t open her eyes or lift her head.

At least someone put her on a sofa and gave her a blanket. Wherever she’d been taken didn’t smell like the same house as before. This room carried the stale smell of disuse.

She pushed her mind to recall what happened after she drank so much of Lexan’s blood. There’d been lot of pain and cramping. Then, everything was blank.

Her acute hearing detected two heartbeats close. Lexan? She needed it to be him…to confirm he lived. Her heart picked up its pace.

A blink to open…too much light. She slammed her eyes closed. Her skin didn’t burn. So, not outdoors. Vision wasn’t happening right now.

A mental scan sent her mind into a nauseating whirl like someone had put her on a carousel and set the speed for too fast. Survival instinct demanded she take inventory and survey the area.

A deep sniff detected one wolf and one vampire close. A vamp?

An unfamiliar male asked, “You awake over there?” She focused on the voice, wondering if it spoke to her. She picked up mental vibrations consistent with werewolf.

“Trace? You awake?” the voice asked.

Trace was here? Had Dominic’s goons captured her back? No. Couldn’t be. The wolf speaking sounded too in charge. Where was Lexan? Maybe he hadn’t survived.

She couldn’t breathe. Her chest clamped down tight. He’s didn’t die. She needed to believe it.

“Aren’t you dead?” Trace’s tone transmitted stress and exhaustion.

She would attack to free Trace, if they planned to torture him.

She cracked her eyelids. This time the light didn’t hurt as much. Trace rested his forehead in his hands. He sat uncuffed in a kitchen chair across what appeared to be an ornately decorated sitting room. The furnishings were a late nineteenth century style, possibly earlier. Expensive. Not well used.

“Apparently, I’m alive.” There was humor in the wolf’s voice.

“Dominic said he killed you.” Trace gazed in the direction of the wolf’s voice.

“Do you believe everything Dominic Scarpa says?”

“My head…” Trace massaged his forehead. “Why’d you knock me out with a tranq dart?”

“You were about to do something stupid and probably die. The Squad Vamps thought themselves the ambushers, when they were, in fact, the ambushees. My wolves had all of you surrounded. I’d be surprised if anyone other than you survived.”

“If Dominic didn’t kill you, then who did he kill? He killed a wolf.”

A tall man stalked into her sightline. Long, dark hair fell loose well past wide shoulders. He wore a dark, long coat, which hid his body. His potent aura saturated her brain. Dangerous. Lethal. This being, like Lexan, had the capacity to be the monster she’d grown up hearing about. But Lexan hadn’t induced the level of wariness this guy did.

“Dominic murdered a wolf that night—an innocent friend in the wrong place at the wrong time. The real question is who killed your mother?”

Our mother? Goosebumps ridged Vee’s arms.

“You killed her.” Then less certainly Trace added, “Didn’t you?”

“Again, believing everything Dominic says.” The werewolf pulled a velvet-upholstered chair in front of Trace. His back remained to Vee as he sat. “Do you remember our private talk on the day of your fifteenth year of birth, a year before your mother died? Or did you think it an alcohol-induced delusion?” He handed Trace a cup of liquid. The smell of blood teased her nose.