The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) (36 page)

They were blood chosen.

And Julia was his.

His to protect, his to take care of.

Eventually, his to love.

It was a mandate from deep in the fiber of his
being, inexplicable... irrefutable. As Scott looked at the
thunderous expression on Julia's face...
so
obviously
against her will.

“She won't see the healer,” Jen told Scott.

“The hell she won't,” he stared at Julia and she
glared back.

“You can't make me!” she yelled, two feet away
from his face.

“Well, sweetheart,” Scott said, placing his
palms on either side of her hips and leaning into her personal
bubble, he loomed over her, “we're not in Kindergarten anymore and
You. Will. Be. Healed,” he roared at her, the fine hairs by her
temple moving with the power behind his voice. Shame washed over
him when he felt her response as a hiccup of fear.

Julia was scared of him.

Scott backed away as she continued to stare at
him.

“Argh!” Scott grunted in frustration to her
anxiety, raking his hand through his hair, her eyes holding
something more than her irritation.

Fear. Fear of him.

Scott stalked off, slamming the door behind him
and Julia collapsed on the cold tile again, the hot tears she shed
warming the coolness beneath her, the small energy she'd received
from Scott's presence departing like smoke through a crack, and
with it, her vitality.

Julia fell asleep where she lay, in a small heap
on the bathroom floor, tears sticking to fevered flesh. Her dreams
played like a sick nightmare she couldn't escape from.

*

Scott

Scott paced in front of his father, Marcus, the
leader of Region One of Blood Singers.

He threw up his hand, the energy from his anger
racing around the office inside the Learning Compound and pinging
back to the pair like a blazing boomerang of emotion.

Marcus stood, his coal black hair so like the
son's. Scott charged back and forth in the small space like a bull
with a red cape waved in front of him.

“Calm down!” Marcus roared in a voice full of
command, authority. Marcus did not need to yell to be heard. As a
point of fact, he knew that authority was not about control gained
through violence and shouts, but respect through experience.

Scott stopped, his chest heaving, his hands
buried in the front of his jean's pockets, his jet-black brows
dropped like a brick over eyes that were so dark a brown they were
like chocolate ink.

“Why?!” Scott shouted. “I was fucking fine
without this,” he ripped his hands out of his jeans and flung one
toward the house where Julia was.

Still ill. Her sickness pressed on him like a
weight he couldn't bear. It was all he could do to not be next to
her.

Taking care of her.

“Language, Scott,” Marcus said.

“Dad... come on.”

“You are twenty-five years old and can use
whatever colorful metaphors that come to mind. But bear in mind
there are many here now who look to you as an example.” Marcus
spread his hands away from his body, imploring his eldest to see
reason.

It would be the plow against a tough field. Of
all his offspring, Scott was the most stubborn.

“They're not here now and I don't stand as an
example before you.”

“Good habits begin now, Scott,” Marcus
stated.

Scott bowed his head, reining his anger in. When
a full two minutes had passed he locked gazes with his father.

“Did you know?” Scott looked at him with a
dumbstruck expression. “Did you know this was real? That I would be
a part of this dumbass destiny equation?”

Marcus stared at him. He deliberated, but in the
end he decided the time had come to tell Scott the truth.

Scott watched his dad fold his hands behind his
back and many things happened at once: Julia took a turn for the
worse, he could feel his sister coming for him and his father had a
look that said that there was a grave secret.

Scott literally felt like a fist was clenching
in his guts.
Julia
, his soul whispered.

He was helpless; Scott did the only thing he
could.

He went to her.

*

William

William felt his jaw flutter from clenching it
so tightly and slammed his fist down on the table that had stood in
the same position for the hundred years he had been part of this
coven. It shook beneath his rage, rattling.

“How can you just...” he waffled his hand from
side to side, Gabriel's glower telling him of his apathy, “let her
go,” William finished in a low voice.

Gabriel stood, as tall as William at six foot
one and as their noses nearly kissed, Gabriel turned the tables on
William with, “How many must perish for one?”

Damn, he's got me there,
William
thought.

William shoved the black hair from his gray
eyes, his gaze darkening to pewter. “She is a Rare One. We must
sacrifice much for her,” William argued logically, his eyes
searching Gabriel's, praying for a break, a flicker of anything
that might advance him toward another rescue attempt.

“William, I
do
know how you feel about
Julia,” Gabriel began but William interrupted him.

“You do not,” William warned in a voice warmed
by raw emotion. As if the hundreds of years he had lived as vampire
without emotion had suddenly caught up and come crashing down on
him at once.

Gabriel sighed in frustration. He did not wish
to give her up any more than William. But her presence within the
coven had already cost them over thirty vampires. Soon, there would
not be enough left for her prophesied abilities and traits to help
their species. Julia Caldwell had become a liability.

Claire came forward and touched her cousin's
arm. William stared at her; he found the intrusion unwelcome.

As Claire began to speak the males listened,
William the most reluctantly. When she was done William's head
hung.

“I refuse it.” William looked from one to the
other of them. “She is part of me.” He put a fist to his heart. “Do
you not see it?” he asked, looking at Claire who had tried to
reason him out of going after Julia again. Loving her.

He could not be reasoned with.

William would not.

“Do you not feel it?” he asked, his vampiric
voice reverberating in the enclosed space, stone walls all around
them, the sound beating Gabriel and Claire's eardrums like a subtle
weapon. Claire covered her ears, wincing and William inclined his
head in apology. “I am sorry, but I cannot be governed by numbers.
Julia is not a number to me.” His gaze pierced them like lasers
beams that tore the skin aside, seeking marrow. “Her blood is a
chorus of voices that sing to my soul.” William locked gazes with
the leader of his kiss.

“I will never be in harmony as long as she is
not with me.”

William stalked out of the room, banging the
solid wood door behind him with a resounding shudder.

“It is the blood-share,” Claire said mournfully.
“He is lost because of her blood.”

“It is much more than that,” Gabriel said as he
slipped a most modern device out of the pocket of the black slacks
he wore.

Claire gave him a quizzical look and he shushed
her with a look.

Gabriel had a plan.

William would eventually forgive him.

Someday.

*

Northwestern Pack

Lawrence was at a complete loss. His primary
Alpha, Joseph, had been killed during the failed acquisition of the
Rare One, his sister was out of her mind with grief, and he had the
Feral and Anthony at each other's throats.

Literally.

Sometimes, he wished for any job other than the
one he held.

Instead, he showed up and executed his position
as Packmaster of the Northwestern den. Even if it killed him.

Which it almost certainly would someday.

His morbid joke notwithstanding, it was time to
establish order in the pack once again.

He looked at Adrianna, the most Alpha female he
had ever met and felt a pang of sympathy. Normally, her abrasive
nature was so punishing on his senses he was fine with his brusque
treatment of her in return. But two things stood in the way of his
usual tactics with her.

One, she was the most eligible female wolf in
the den. Two, her brother had just died before her eyes. Murdered
by their most grievous enemies.

Brutally.

Then, as females went, she had lost the Rare One
and now had a double loss to contend with there. Moonless abilities
aside, the Rare One had almost been more trouble than she was
worth.

Almost.

Lawrence's gaze flicked to the Feral.

Right,
he self-corrected,
Jason,
his mind restated. Yes, the Singer's husband.

Unconsummated. He and Tony had an intimate
discussion on
smells
. And as the case may be, now that Tony
had a firm grasp on both the Feral's scent and that of the Blood
Singer, Julia, he was beyond certain they did not co-mingle.

Lawrence was not privy to the intricacies of
their relationship. Only that they had not allowed the circle of
their vows to close. This was a crucial detail to the Were.

Lawrence thought, not for the first time, how
terrible it had been that Julia had been taken on the eve of the
Ritual of Luna. If they could have just....

Ah! He shook his head, his thoughts turning to
the mess at hand. The arguing before him a sure distraction.

It was Tony and the spry Alpha female (as
usual), Adrianna-
Adi
. Lawrence sighed, flicking another
glance at the Fer...
Jason
. His body was stock-still and his
deep hazel eyes were hooded. They were distant and...
contemplative.

Lawrence shouted above the two, “Enough!”

Adi turned, “I will not be under Tony!” she
huffed, folding her arms underneath her breasts.

“Yes you will,” Tony said in a voice so low she
could barely make it out. Lawrence did not hear the softly spoken
dark promise he made. Jason did, his eyes shifting to Tony, still
Jason kept his own counsel.

He wasn't talking about hierarchy
, the
dick hole, Adi knew. He was talking about putting it to her.

“You'll never touch me, with your dick or
anything else!” Adi yelled at him, frustrated. She knew that
Lawrence hadn't heard the sexual threat. But she had. It had been
meant for her.

“Adi!” Lawrence roared, pegging her with his
gaze. “Stop this behavior. He is your dominant. You must understand
that now that Joseph is... gone,” he swallowed over the awkward
wording, “that there must be another to replace him. It is the way
of it. As it has been for millennia.” Lawrence's gaze softened and
Adi responded, switching tactics for once and trying to be a female
instead of an Alpha.

It wasn't a simple transition.

“Please... Packmaster,” her eyes flicked to
Tony's, “he means me harm.”

Lawrence scoffed,
foolish female
, he
thought, but he schooled his expression for her benefit. Adi saw
the flicker of the emotion on his face and knew she'd lost before
he uttered his next words, “He would never harm a female Were, Adi.
Think on it.” Lawrence searched her face, waiting. Finally, when
she didn't reply out of sheer disbelief and stubbornness, Lawrence
added, “There are too few of you to ever trifle with your safety or
protection. As it was, your brother did not show good judgment when
he took you along on the raid for the Singer.” Lawrence met Tony's
eyes. “It is a mark in Anthony's favor that you were returned
unharmed.”

Adi seethed in frustration, her wolf roiling
dangerously close beneath her skin, stretched taut to bursting.
Tony would be
him
and Lawrence would allow it with Joseph no
longer serving as a buffer. Adi turned to the Feral and his
nostrils flared, picking up her scent change. And she suddenly
remembered when he had awoken in her arms only to be knocked into
Timbuktu by Tony, who was only too happy to do it.

They couldn't have him popping her arm off like
his favorite drumstick again.

Although, Adi didn't have the sense of that
anymore.
His desperation to escape and be feral had slid
away
, she thought. Adi studied Jason Caldwell in human form
with his borrowed jeans and a T-shirt that read,
When there's no
more room in Hell, the dead will walk the earth.
It didn't nail her funny bone in the slightest: A) there were
no such thing as zombies and it was the lamest thing on the planet
to consider it B) she was spoiling for a fight. Her good humor had
deserted her. He stared blankly back. Jason made no effort to
speak, having ignored everyone and everything. Including her. He
was almost robotic.

Where the hell was he in
there
? she thought, searching those
brooding eyes.

Why did he go after Julia? Wasn't he in love
with her? Adi would never forget the look on her face when she told
Adi about their romance, their secret marriage.

That horrible night when he was attacked and
apparently killed by the Were.

Presumed dead.

But not. No, now he was a rare
red Were. One of very few. Of course, it wasn't every damn day when
Singers got turned into
other.
Whether it be drinker or
claw.

Adi would never forget the look on Julia's
face when he decided to choke her to death either.

Where was she now? And who in the blue fuck
were those crazy-ass Singers that had shown up, kicked ass and
taken names?

What was their fairy tale story?

Lots of questions, not enough answers.

Story of her damn life.

Merlin surreptitiously wiped the bead of
sweat that slid down his skin and dampened the collar of his long
sleeved button down. He had met Gabriel, as requested, in the
outdoor eatery where the cattle grazed in their concrete pasture.
Pioneer Square was the backdrop to their covert meeting. Even with
the shade of the umbrella above the table and using sunblock with
the highest zinc count, a light smolder played across his skin. It
was microscopic, humans would not ken to it but it would have been
obvious to a supernatural.