The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) (38 page)

It felt like salt had been rubbed in the most
tender spot of his chest. The throbbing ache intensified for a
moment then faded.

He couldn't help but think about Julia. Somehow,
the feeling had that taste to it.

The feel of her was all over it, coating it in
her smell, her memory.

His shame.

Because that's what he had. A boatload of
it.

No matter how many times he rolled it over in
his head, it still came back the same. He saw it all in
technicolor: his shift to human in response to her threatening her
own life. Then, he had some kind of confusion when she had touched
him and he was back on that beach, reliving the attack and all he
could see, all he could feel was the pulse of: kill, kill,
kill.

When he'd come around and seen it was Julia,
his wife
, it was too late. He'd been hit from behind and
he'd watched helplessly as she was taken by that black haired son
of a bitch. The one that had eyes like inky dots, soulless. He'd
given those eyes to Jason and in them he'd seen the threat that lay
there.

If he wanted to ever have Julia, he'd have to go
through that guy.

He'd tear though that arsehole like melted
butter
, his wolf whispered inside his brain without pause,
without conscience.

Well... if Jason could forgive himself for what
he'd done to Julia, he would sure as hell find his way back to
her.

Back to where he belonged.

By her side.

*

Vampire

William felt the tug of the blood-share jerk
through the musical instrument that he was connected to. The melody
of Julia's blood was known to him by memory.

By his heart.

It sung to him and he triangulated her position
instantly. Their bond was but a whisper now, not a screaming
symphony but a note now heard during his waking hours.

And when he slept.

William moved toward the location. Without the
backing of his coven, without runners to support him. One objective
in mind: Julia.

He didn't waste time, there was an undercurrent
to the binding... as if it was compromised.

That was not exactly it but a closer idea did
not present itself. Somehow, she was in physical jeopardy.

William redoubled his pace, moving through the
miles without slowing.

Toward that weak pull. When a ripple of agony
drove William to his knees he recognized the summons for what it
was:

A call for assistance.

I'm coming, Julia,
he responded in his
mind.

*

Scott

Scott looked down in horror as Julia screamed
for Jason, her cry a hoarse plea even to his own ears.

Like Scott was the enemy. Like he'd hurt a hair
on her golden head.

Brendan rushed into the room. “Why is she
screaming?” he asked, scanning the room for threats.

“She's delusional... the fever,” Jen shrugged
just as the Healer came into the room and Scott tramped down his
temper with an effort that was ugly.

Cyrus looked at Julia, eyes only for her. “Why
wasn't I called earlier?” he asked logically, his pale green eyes
sweeping the siblings. Jen ducked her head under the scrutiny. “She
didn't want anyone helping her,” she responded a trifle
defensively.

Cyrus put his hands on her torso and Julia
whimpered, trying to bat his hands away.

“Don't touch her,” Scott growled out.

“Are you shitting me, Scott? What's wrong with
you?” Cyrus' level stare penetrated Scott.

Scott didn't even know, but another male
touching her was un-effing-acceptable.

Brendan barked out a laugh. “Hey He-man, why
don't you piss off and let Cyrus get her better?”

In a flash, Scott had Brendan against the wall
and Jen was there, pandemonium breaking out in the room, Julia
groaning at the commotion.

Michael strode in and took in Scott laying their
brother out against the wall asked, “Do you need to be in another
pile of shit, bro?”

Jen said, “Yeah! This is so not helping
brother!”

Scott only saw red, when he heard Julia moan he
lit off after Cyrus and Jen whipped out her hand, jerking,
literally, the rug out from underneath him.

Scott pinwheeled his arms and fell, landing on
his back on the unforgiving wood floor, the air whooshing out of
his lungs.

Cyrus shook his head then looked at Jen,
noticing Scott was moving a little slower.
That'll happen every
time ya can't breathe
, he thought. It wasn't often Scott was
taken down a peg. It was about damn time. Even the mighty shall
fall. “I heard. Soul-meld, huh?” he chuckled.

Jen didn't think it was very funny right now,
giving Scott a nervous glance. Six foot three inches of very pissed
off Singer male. Ah... yeah. Zero comedy factor.

“Territorial-much, right?” Michael said from the
door, ready to whip up a handy Illusion at the slightest sign that
Scott would beat on Cyrus.

“Keep him at bay, would ya?” Cyrus asked, his
pale hands moving over Julia's torso and he sucked in a breath as
Scott got onto his hands and knees like a raging bull, shaking his
head from side to side, Jen expected him to start foaming at the
mouth or something.

“She's quite ill. She...” he looked puzzled then
he straightened. “What did she do?”

Jen told him that she'd gulped down half the
creek and he shook his head. “That is mostly it but she's got a
tie... and it is making her sick.”

The room grew quiet.

It was Scott who asked the question, his voice
hard. “What tie?”

“To a blood drinker,” Cyrus said in a flat
voice. His eyes looked at each sibling in turn. “There's not much
good news to this. But,” he paused in the deafening silence of the
room, “at least she doesn't have enough for a permanent
binding.”

Scott had calmed down enough through her
physical assessment that he could ask the question, “Who?”

Cyrus shrugged. “Does it matter? She's been
given blood, regardless of the reason, and it has allowed a
blood-share to establish.”

“Okay, so?” Micheal said, taking a resounding
chomp out of the apple he held, the crack of it reverberating in
the space. Brendan rolled his eyes.

“What?” He shrugged. “I'm hungry.”

Scott glared at him.

Cyrus grinned,
the siblings got along so
well
, he thought. He continued, “Well, the inherent trouble
here is that it's like a homing beacon. The deliverer of said
blood, could in theory, find her.”

“Let him come,” Scott said. “No one will hurt
her again,” he said as Julia slept comfortably, his spirit soothed
by the worst of her acute agony being gone.

“It's not about hurting her Scott,” Cyrus'
steady gaze locked with Scott's as a dawning horror came over
him.

Jen said, “The third time is the charm, right
Cyrus?”

He nodded.

“That sucks ass,” Brendan said, stating the
obvious.

Cyrus folded his hands and his head sunk a
little.

They looked at him in silence.

Finally, he said, “There's more.”

“Oh, happy day,” Jen said dryly.

“Do you know if she was,” his eyes searched
theirs, “exposed to a Were?”

“No!” Scott nearly shouted and Julia squirmed on
the bed. He knelt by her side and put his hand on her cheek and she
nuzzled against it in her sleep, giving a contented sigh and
Scott's heart squeezed. When she wasn't awake to fight it, she
wanted him.

She felt the rightness of them.

“No,” he quietly said again.

“Well, she has been exposed. She is not Were but
she has a blood-binding with a Were.”

“You can tell all this how?” Brendan asked.

Cyrus scoffed, “I am a Blood Singer, ya dunce.
It is what I do as Healer. The blood tells me its secrets. Nothing
is hidden,” he finished in a matter of fact way. It was rudimentary
to him.

It was shocking to the siblings, each for
different reasons.

Here was their precious Queen, prophesied to
return to reign on high with an apparent soul-meld to Scott.

Julia was also bound to a mystery Were and a
vampire. A blood bind was a serious thing amongst Singers. What
would it mean for a pureblood? A rare Queen?

Where were these elusive supernaturals now?

Would they come for her?

Those questions plagued the group, but none more
strongly than Scott.

Let them come,
he thought again.

They would meet their deaths.

Tony walked toward the Feral. He would always be
the Feral. It didn't matter fuck on ditty that Lawrence was forcing
his integration within the pack.

Tony would never welcome him. He'd been
partially responsible for the loss of the Rare One. Pulling that
fucked up episode at the last... strangling her? Why Lawrence had
forgiven that stunt was beyond Tony.

But integrate him he did.

Tony remembered the conversation exactly.

“
It is our fault that he was turned. Our
sister den in Alaska sent the wrong soldier for a sensitive task.
He ignored the obvious, tried to kill the Rare One's
mate...”

“
Not mate, Packmaster,” Tony corrected
neutrally.

Lawrence inclined his head in
acknowledgment. “True, unconsummated but following the laws which
govern the humans.”

“
Let us speak plainly,” Tony gave him steady
eyes, “she's not been bred to any male. She is mated to no
one.”

Lawrence sighed. “In any event, he was
attacked, then before the Were could rectify it by ending him, the
vampire came and left that one for dead.”

“
Then we had to come in and save their stupid
asses. Their incompetence... argh!” Tony said, fisting his hands.
That had been a colossal cluster fuck.

Their gazes held and Lawrence said, “So you
see, my new Alpha, we cannot turn him away, making him rogue,
simply because you're uncomfortable with his origins. He was not
meant to live. Now he does and he will have a place in the pack.
And,” Lawrence lowered his voice, “he faces enough prejudice
because of his lineage, he does not need the new Alpha to stir the
pot.”

Yes, Tony thought, the fabled Red. That was
also in The Book of Luna.

“
Are you thinking about the Book?” Tony
asked.

“
I am.”

“
It is legend,” Tony scoffed, dismissing the
tale like he did every tradition of the Were. It was bullshit. He
needed to be the biggest and baddest, taking everything that was
rightfully his.

That was pretty much everything he wanted.
Case closed. His logic was irrefutable. Tony thought he made a
perfect wolf. Their species was all about the strong
prevailing.

He was all about that program.

Lawrence gave a low growl, filled with
menace and Tony's wolf slammed up to the surface. If the moon had
been full, he would have burst form right there in the office.

“
It is not legend. It is coming to fruition.
The history is now. The legend is becoming, Anthony.”

Tony had skimmed over every history of the
Were he could. He'd bullied his whelpmates into letting him crib
notes while his instructors were none the wiser.

Now he was struggling to have a point of
reference.

Fucking marvelous.

Lawrence smiled. “Being Alpha is not always
about brute force.”

That was news to Tony, who had had fantastic
luck with just that method in the past.

Lawrence continued, “It is about embracing
our history, keeping our traditions and safeguarding our females so
that we may continue. You would do well to begin that if you have a
hopes of succeeding me one day.”

Oh yes, Tony had every intention of doing
that. And the hell with the history. Fuck chance, fuck hope, you
make your own future.

It was a precept that Tony was ruled by.

“
The Book foretells the Rare One, and how one
such as she is drawn to her like a magnet, a perfect puzzle piece
finding its mate. It speaks of a red that will come, bound to the
Rare One, but sent to save our race. And the Blood Raven.”

Tony's eyes flicked to his Packmaster's.
“Tell me of this raven.”

“
Blood Raven.”

Tony huffed in impatience.

Lawrence closed his eyes in a long blink
then quoted from the Book. Even Tony recognized the Old
Language:

“
He that holds the blood of the Singer and
seeks the night by wing, will share the song that binds with the
Rare One. The Blood Wolf, a rival of no small means; mingled blood
of both running in her veins.”

Holy hell, Tony thought. It's that damn Red
Were and that freakin' vamp that can switch into a raven. Somehow,
they threatened the future.

His future.

Tony knew how to take care of that. Like he
had a million times before.

Lawrence studied Tony's face as the words
soaked in.

Tony lifted a massive shoulder, toned from
years of training. To kill. Tony was very good at that.

Killing.

“
So?” he asked without expecting an
answer.

Lawrence frowned. Perhaps Tony was not keen
enough intellectually to understand the significance? “The book has
chronicled the Rare One. She has come. She is connected to the Red.
Jason.” His eyes stabbed Tony's. “Further, the vampire who has
enough Singer blood to bring on the change? He is somehow bound to
her as well.”

Tony gave him a blank look.

“
She is the key. Julia Caldwell. We acquire
her, and set her to be with the Red. Once she is mated, no others
will vie for her. She will be ours, a Singer transformed, A Rare
One mated to a Red. The circle of blood will be complete.”

Tony did an internal eye roll. Whatever. He'd
see to whatever needed to happen, and get that effing Singer. Heat
roiled around underneath his skin just thinking about her escape.
He'd been
that close
to nailing
her. At least Joseph was out of the way. He smiled. He'd made that
work to his advantage. Hopefully, his part in that would never be
discovered.