Blood Reign (#4): Alpha Warriors of the Blood (The Blood Series) (10 page)

The newly revealed pureblood Red Were attacked the Alaskan den’s dominant Alpha, but Tharell kept one eye on the enemy.

Ten Reds in that pack held court behind the two who soaked the earth with each other's blood. He gave Domi a significant look.
Be watchful
, it said.

Domi nodded back.

Tharell moved forward, capturing Lucius’ and Scott’s eyes. The female Feeler, Angela, noticed his staring and shook her head.

“He's not one of them.”

Tharell knew exactly who had taken Julia. He had gone off to lick his wounds and heal.

He would be back. In the meantime, Slash asserted his dominance in a bid to take over the pack while its master was not there, a savvy move by Were standards. Tharell had judged the scarred one as everyone had, broken because of his obvious wounds. He now surmised that Slash felt he had nothing to lose. That type of supernatural was dangerous, for they were willing to risk much to get what they needed.

Slash pinned the Were beneath him. His own blood dripped down in a steady stream onto the other Were's face.

“Don't kill me,” the Were said, his arms straining to keep Slash's hands from tightening around his throat even further.

“This is like a tap out moment,” Cyn said from the sidelines, and Tharell frowned at the commentary.

Slash squeezed his fingers.

“...Second...” the other Were wheezed.

Tharell saw the minute hesitation in Slash's throttle.

“Think he wants to live,” Truman commented in a droll voice.

Slash lifted the pressure slightly. The Were coughed, drawing breath, sucking in blood along with oxygen. “I will be your second...” A coughing fit ensued, and Slash sat back on his haunches, hands at the ready.

“We'd be unstoppable, you and I—both purebloods. There aren't enough of us for you to kill me.”

“I don't know about that,” Adi said in a voice as dry as the Sahara desert.

Slash didn't look away. He ignored everyone's comments, seeming to weigh the Were's words.

“I don't need anyone,” Slash said, and Adi snorted in the background. “Hey!”

Slash quirked his lips. “Almost no one,” he amended. Slash stood. The palm he offered to the Were beneath him was human again.

Tharell breathed easier when he took it.

The supernatural tide had turned. Eleven Red Were under their command was a sight better than eleven after their true death.

“I am Ezekiel,” the defeated Were said.

“I am Slash.”

The two Reds shook hands, blood their only clothing.

The ten Reds who accompanied Ezekiel removed clothes from a duffel, and Slash used what was given to him.

Tharell thought the Alpha blushed, once nearly covered, when the young female Were said softly, “Oh... I was kinda liking the view.”

The scar on his face deepened to a red lightning strike with his embarrassment, though he didn't respond to her comment.

Adi smiled as though satisfied with a battle won.

Tharell looked around. He thought battles were only preludes.

And war was coming.

*

Slash backed away from Ezekiel, locating Adrianna. Satisfied she was as safe as possible given the circumstances, he looked at the faces of those who stood waiting.

Jason came forward, frantic. “Julia's gone—Jacqueline's gone.”

Scott scraped a hand through his hair. “Damn, that is so bad.”

“Perhaps not,” Domiatri said, and Slash glanced his way.

He went on, “I sent Jacqueline to track the Blooded Queen. No harm will come to her from Jacqueline's hand.”

Slash heard Cyn's laugh of sheer disbelief in the background.

Scott was in his face instantly. “How do you know? Do you know what dear old Mom is capable of?”

Domi ignored the enraged Combatant and answered a question that hadn't been asked. “I know that she laments her past and wants only to stop the persecution.”

Scott made a rude noise in the back of his throat and paced away, only to pivot back a moment later. “You can buy into whatever she's selling. But Lucius and I will be getting Julia back.”

“Me too,” Jason said.

“I don't believe there is any argument in the reacquisition of Julia Caldwell,” Tharell said thoughtfully.

“Then what the eff are we waiting for?” Jason bellowed.

“Good question,” Cyn said.

Slash read Tharell easily. “There's the small matter of Tom Harriet.”

“He isn't a small matter.” Ezekiel put his hands on his hips. “He will not go quietly. He will
not
submit to you or anyone.”

Slash shrugged and restated the obvious. “That doesn't matter.”

He swept his palm at the two Combatants, two mixed-blood Reds, albeit younglings by Were standards. Then there were the Sidhe warriors, Tharell and Domi.

Not to mention he'd single-handedly made sure of his dominance over the pack that now stood within speaking distance. He was bone tired, and that didn't help.

However, Slash didn't think they had much to worry about from Harriet for the moment.

“It will matter. He is somewhere other than here. If he is not here, he is pursuing the same thing you are—and closer to his quarry.”

His people shifted uneasily behind him. Only the fey kept still.

“He won't hurt the Rare One,” Slash stated. None of the supernaturals would compromise what Julia Caldwell represented through maiming or death. It defeated the entire reason for claiming her.

Yet... “What aren't you telling us?”

Karl Truman stood beside Slash. He wasted an eye flick on the Were then turned his attention to Ezekiel.

Truman interjected. “It's the Feebie angle, right?”

Ezekiel looked at the new Red. Finally, he nodded. “If allowed, Tom Harriet will fashion a manhunt the likes of what you've never seen, spreading lies to close the net of capture around Region One, expose the fey... whoever needs to be outed to make this agenda come to fruition.” He raised his fist and coughed thickly into it.

“Follow through kind of guy?” Truman asked.

He dropped his hand to his side. “So much. More than any of us could say. We have the scars to prove it.”

“He's a brutal pack master?” Slash grew uneasy with the picture of Harriet taking shape.

Ezekiel's eyes flashed in the gloom. “Very. But that is not his best thing.”

Slash didn't like the sound of that, but he had to ask. “What is?”

“Subtlety.”

“And Julia's out there with Jacqueline. With a crazy-ass smart Were whose sole goal is to capture her and take her to Alaska.”

“He will,” Ezekiel assured them.

“They have to get through Jackie-baby.”

All eyes turned to Cyn.

“Here's the thing, guys.” She rolled her eyes, and they could all see what color they were, despite the low light. “Jacqueline's supposedly gone through some 'metamorphosis',” she began, clearly in a state of disbelief. “But no matter how much she's supposedly changed, I'm willing to bet there's still a fat streak of bad in her. I think she'll give Harriet a run for his FBI money.”

Caldwell angrily scrubbed his chin. Finally, he looked up. “Jules is running on not having very many talents. And those she does have? They're random and of varying levels...” His worried eyes despaired, and Slash felt for him.

“Let's go find them,” Scott decided for the group. Jason threw his arms in the air like
no shit.

Lucius turned to Angela. “Do you see a remnant? Can you see anything?”

A Feeler could see auras, the fingerprints of a supernatural. No two auras were alike.

“Yes.”

He gripped her shoulders. “Do you see the Singers?”

She shook her head. “No. I—it is easier to see an aura of a host who is actively malicious in their intent.”

Jason walked away.

“Caldwell!' Scott yelled, jogging to catch up.

Jason turned to Angela. “Can you see Tom Harriet's aura? The remnant?”

“Oh yes,” she responded.

Jason stood still for a moment. “What does it look like?”

Angela shivered. “Evil,” she answered.

Slash strode after Caldwell. That had been answer enough.

If Harriet wanted a war, then he'd come to the right male. War was Slash’s natural state of being.

Unfortunately, something had changed when Adrianna had shown interest in him.

He hated the weakness. Slash hated the uninvited emotion that knocked at the door for entrance.

Hope.

Jacqueline was fully aware that Julia Caldwell did not trust her. She could not say she would feel any differently had their roles been reversed.

Julia broke into her thoughts. “Do you know where the hell we're going?”

Jacqueline didn't bother lying. It wouldn't help their tentative and hopefully auspicious alliance.

“I do,” she answered, moving quickly through the dense underbrush. She couldn't help feelings of weakness. That she so soon forgot what it was like to be pregnant irritated her. It should have been unforgettable.

She tried not to view the fetus as a parasite and couldn't quite come to terms with it. The tiny group of cells inside her continued to grow, sucking the very life from her weakened body without mercy.

Jacqueline moved stoically forward, matching the shoeless Rare One stride for stride.  She answered Julia's earlier question. “I feel the sithen... it calls to me.”

She caught Julia stealing a glance in her direction at the comment and elaborated, “Domi has told me that all those, supernatural and human alike, who possess a great enough portion of fey blood, will feel the summons of Faerie.”

“Domi?” Julia asked, narrowly avoiding the backlash of a small alder branch as she pushed it aside.

“The Sidhe warrior,” Jacqueline replied quietly.

“The green fey? The father?”

Jacqueline, breathing heavily, nodded to save energy.

The women moved out of the tree line and came upon a small town.

Blaine, Washington,
Jacqueline read. Ahead was a small restaurant named Bob's Diner. The
B
in the neon sign flickered in a disquieting way.

She cast a glance at her and Julia's terribly disheveled clothing.

Her stomach made up her mind, heaving in a roaring growl.

“God! Was that your stomach?” Julia asked.

Jacqueline turned, vertigo capturing her. She looked straight at Julia's face and saw her mouth moving. The tunnel of her vision narrowed, and Jacqueline felt as though she was drowning.

Motes danced before her eyes.

Julia reached out.

Darkness engulfed.

*

Jacqueline's stomach gave a low, wail-like growl, and Julia turned to her, asking if that could possibly be real.
Whose stomach growls that way?

A pregnant woman's, apparently.

Jacqueline was ghost-like in her paleness. Dark eyes stood out like depleted black marbles, their luster gone.

Julia took a step toward the smaller woman, her enemy.

Those dark eyes rolled up in their sockets.

“Oh no!” Julia cried. It was the worst time and place for a fainting spell.

Julia caught her, and they fell to the ground together. She broke Jacqueline's fall, rolling her over onto the soft shoulder between road and forest.

“Wake up,” Julia said a little frantically. They couldn't be out there in the open. It was entirely too possible, with everyone on their tail, they'd be discovered. And Julia was very aware of her special vulnerability. No shoes, her talents all in a knot.

No, best to drag Jacqueline back into the borderline of the woods.

Julia put her ear close to Jacqueline's face, not hearing breath.

She leapt to her knees in a panic, straddling her, and hovered her hand over Jacqueline's mouth.

Warmth caressed her skin. She was alive.

Julia eased out a shallow breath. Her laugh sounded like a sob. It was surreal that she was tasking herself with keeping Jacqueline alive.

Her attempted murderess.

However, Julia could see Jacqueline's aura. She didn't know for sure, but she didn't believe those could lie. An iridescent white to pinkish color swirled around her like ribbons of cotton candy in the wind.

She wasn't the Feeler Angela was but enough to bolster her confidence that they could at least seek refuge together without Jacqueline trying to do her in again.

Jacqueline's eyes fluttered open.

“What has occurred?”

“You passed out.”

Jacqueline covered her eyes with the back of her forearm. She began to cry, the tears wetting her sleeve.

Oh wow, just—wow.

“Hey.” Julia patted Jacqueline's arm awkwardly while covertly scanning the area. “It's okay... Jacqueline.” Julia ignored the current weirdness and took Jacqueline's arm away from her face. “Let's get some food, then when the batteries are recharged, we'll figure out where we are and get someplace safe.” Julia tried on a smile she didn't feel and forged onward. “And Jason and the others will be right after us.”

Jacqueline sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I feel so foolish.”

“Don't—” Julia began, but Jacqueline put a palm up.

“I wish that I could be somewhat as I was before. But now, I am nothing but a weak, clinging mess.”

Julia didn't know how to respond to that. “Well, I think you're a tired, weak, disoriented and very hungry pregnant woman.”

Julia stood, offering her palm. “Come on.”

Jacqueline stared at the proffered hand.

“I think everything will look better after a meal.”

Jacqueline took her hand. The two women made a beeline for the diner.

Two pairs of eyes followed them.

One set turned away, as he replied into his mic, “Subject spotted and identified. Repeat, subject positively identified.”

His well-tailored arm dropped into his lap, setting the binoculars to rest on his thigh as he looked at his partner.

“Gotcha,” he said to himself.

*

“Do you have human currency?” Jacqueline whispered.

Julia nodded. “I know it's totally weird, but Lily, the imposter”—Julia paused in a small huff of memory—“used to insist I always carry a $20.”

Julia showed Jacqueline the corner of green inside her pocket. “Can't believe it survived intact.”

They walked through the diner's front door, a bell announcing their entrance.

Many local gazes drove down their bodies in curious perusal. Julia felt horribly conspicuous with her bare, and rumpled appearance. In fact... “Hey, let's use the restroom.”

Jacqueline gave a grateful nod and the two walked into the women's restroom.

Julia couldn't believe how awful she looked. Not a patch of skin without grime. She was afraid she'd make a clean spot if she scrubbed her face.

She did anyway, beginning with her feet, taking her time.

She looked up into the mirror, and Jacqueline's amused expression greeted her. It was the first genuine bit of anything close to happiness Julia had seen on her face. “What?” Julia asked, cleaning between her last two toes.

“You're aware that your feet will become dirty yet again.”

Julia laughed. Awesome point. “Yeah, I know. But it feels so good to get all the ick out.”

“ 'The ick'?” Jacqueline asked with a slight frown.

Julia laughed again. “Y'know, all the dirt and crap.”

“Oh,” Jacqueline answered quietly.

Julia looked at Jacqueline's face. She took her foot off the bathroom sink’s rim and tore off a sheet of brown paper towel. She ran the hot tap and put the sheet underneath the water. She took it from under the hot spray and pushed a dollop of shimmering pink soap from the dispenser onto the towel.

“Come here,” Julia instructed.

Jacqueline moved with docility, closing her eyes when she reached Julia.

Julia began at her forehead. She ended at her neck. “There,” she said, surveying her handiwork.

Jacqueline opened her eyes. “Thank you.” She looked at the floor, and Julia threw the towel away and opened the bathroom door.

She didn't turn around, giving Jacqueline a moment to compose herself.

“Let's go get some grub.”

Jacqueline leaned back with a satisfied burp that she tried to hide with a palm.

It didn't work very well. Julia laughed, her guts protesting after the inhaling of the meal.

A thought broke through Julia's mental shielding she'd been mastering so well.

This is divine.

It's good, isn't it?
Julia responded in her mind.

Jacqueline's eyes widened. “That is... very untoward, Julia.”

Oh...
rude.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I just heard... I heard your thoughts.”

“Were they bad?” Jacqueline asked shyly.

Julia shook her head with a small laugh. “Nah, they were a lot like mine.”

The tension leaked out of Jacqueline's shoulders.

*

The women surveyed the table littered with empty plates and ketchup beginning to gel with air exposure. Metal cups that contained the extra shake they'd been unable to choke down sat between them.

One lone fry lay on Julia's plate. Jacqueline eyed it with interest.

Julia laughed. “Go ahead.”

Jacqueline picked it up and tossed it into her mouth, chewing happily. Interesting, when Jacqueline wasn't evil, she was okay to be around.

Helps when she's not trying to kill me.

The bell sounded behind them, and two men walked in. Julia's face must have changed, because Jacqueline stopped mid-chew. “What is it?”

“Looks like we've been discovered.” Her voice sounded morose even to her.

Jacqueline did not turn around. “By whom?”

“The FBI,” Julia whispered.

Jacqueline put her palms flat on the table, and her nostrils flared. When she opened her eyes, they met Julia's.

“No.” Jacqueline shook her head. “They are Were.”

“Posing as agents?”

“I do not know. It sounds like that might be the case.”

Great.

“Maybe they're not looking for us.” Julia dared to hope.

Jacqueline sighed. “They are Reds.”

Hope fled along with her appetite.