The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) (66 page)

Edited by Stephanie T.
Lott

Dedication:

My
readers
, who don't want “easy,
uncomplicated, or generic....”

Blood
Singers/talent:

Julia- Queen of the
Singers; Telekinetic/telepath

Scott- Royal Singer
Blood; Deflector/Combatant

Brendan-
Tracker/pyro

Michael-
Illusionist

Jen-
Telekinetic

Cyrus- Healer

Paul-
Negator/amplifier

Angela- Feeler

Marcus- Region
One

Jacqueline- Royal Singer
Blood; Region Two Leader

Victor- Region
Two/Combatant- Boiler/Flame of Blood

Lucius-
Combatant

Cynthia “Cyn”
Adams/rogue- Healer

Heidi- Reader

Trevor-
Deflector

Northwestern Were
Pack:

Lawrence-
Packmaster

Emmanuel “Manny” - Beta
to Lawrence

Anthony “Tony” Daniel
Laurent- Second to Lawrence

Adrianna “Adi”- Alpha
female

Southeastern Were
Pack:

David-
Packmaster

Alan Greene- Alpha
male

Lacey Greene- sister and
female Were to Alan

Buck “Slash”- Alpha
male

Karl Truman- former Homer
detective

Ford- Alpha male/ FBI
agent

Reagan- Moon Warrior,
Daughter of Lacey

Southeastern Vampire
Kiss:

Merlin- Coven leader (now
deceased)

William- new coven
leader

Northwestern Vampire
Kiss:

Gabriel- Coven
Leader

Claire- Cousin to
William

William-
Runner/shifter/Singer blood

Unseelie fey:

Queen Darcel-
Sidhe

Tharell- mixed Sidhe
warrior

Cormack- Sidhe
warrior

Domi- Sidhe
warrior

Rex- Sidhe

Kiel (
key-ale
)- dragon shifting
Sidhe

Celesta- Sidhe
warrior

Delilah
- Vampire, third to Julia,
half-sister to Scott

FEDS:

Tom Harriet

Tai (tie)Simon

Slash/Buck

Buck scented the dawn as it broke the
canopy of the trees with columns of light that appeared washed by
blood. His claws spit dirt behind him in a spray, racing toward the
scent of a female who could never be his.

And another he was tasked to
protect.

He was the go-to dog,
used for his stealth, and his
I don't give
a shit
attitude.

Slash had nothing to live for, there
were no matings on the horizon for him, his face was a ruin from
battle and his position of Alpha undermined by Alan Greene. He did
not hold it against Greene. It was what it was.

There could be only one successor. It
was the way of the Were and their distant cousin, the wolf. Were
weren't picky: if Packmaster was what you sought, you must kill to
obtain it.

Death didn't bother Slash... but for
what? However, want and genetics were two different beasts. The
first was intellect; the latter was about biology.

And Buck's biology was asserting
itself in one fell swoop of animal preordainment.

His wolf wanted Adrianna, lone Alpha
female of the Northwestern den. His wolf didn't give two shits if
she was unobtainable or off limits. There were four subspecies of
Were: gold, black, gray and red. Buck knew that his grandsire had
been a fullblood red. Depending on how one surveyed circumstance,
it gave Slash unfortunate proclivities. Wonderful in war, a
detriment in interaction within his den. There might be some logic
in the natural counter-evolution of the dwindling red Were
population. Perhaps nature strove to eradicate that which was
self-destructive.

In this case, Slash needed every
ounce of red blood he owned. He knew that Tony had taken Cynthia
Adams, newly manifested Singer healer and Adi of the Northwestern
Pack. That intel was all the motivation Slash needed to pursue
their scents.

It could be he wasn't alone as a
cross scent moved over his path and his paws punched the ground as
he straightened to semi-upright, his flesh and bones bleeding into
his half-wolf form.

Slash lifted his snout. Immediately
he found the scent of his packmates. And one other, whom he did not
recognize.

Slash knew what the unknown Were was
in every fiber of his being.

Red.

Like himself. His human-looking brows
lowered over a prominent brow ridge, where green eyes spun
languidly, with keen intelligence.

And bravery, a common default of that
particular variety of wolf. Or stupidity. Slash thought bravery and
stupidity were very close railroad ties in his parallel
universe.

A faraway scream shattered the
stillness of his hesitation in the forest. Slash swiveled toward
that unnatural sound in the wood full of creatures.

It was not the sound of an animal but
a female.

One who was in peril.

Slash ran, and to the east a small
pack of Were ran to intercept him. Lawrence, the Northwestern
Packmaster and Karl Truman, who had been turned by David's bite of
the Southeastern and brought by the blood of the red wolf that was
already part of the fabric of his genetics.

They too had felt the pull of the
Were in one area. They veered off their premeditated course to the
Region One Singer compound and instead, made their way to the
cloistered and mixed group.

*

Cyn

Holy smokes,
Cyn thought, watching as the snake in the grass
leader, Jacqueline, made her way toward them at the same time as
Tony.

Her wary gaze locked with Adi's as
Cyn poured her newfound healing energy into the female Were. When
the damage made from the telekinetic fall caused by that bitch
reversed itself, Cynthia decided right then if they survived this
next mess, she was going to hurt them.

Permanently.

Cyn loved Jules, she did.
But where Julia was soft and thoughtful, Cyn was decisive and
pragmatic. That translated to:
don't fuck
with me
. Or, better:
don't mess with anyone I care about.
 Cyn didn't know where her fierce loyalty stemmed from
and understood on some level it was unreasonable.

But things just were what they were,
unchangeable like the sun rising and setting.

Cyn stood from her crouch next to
Adi, the leaves crunching under her feet. She felt rather than saw
Adi stand as well, the fur gone, replaced with features that looked
heartbreakingly young in the unforgiving light of dawn. The
ethereal colors of pink, orange and red covered them as Adi and Cyn
backed away from the advancing pair.

Adi glanced at Tony and Jacqueline as
they drew nearer. “Oh... shit sandwich,” she said in a shaky voice.
Cyn barked out a laugh brought on by pure adrenaline and
nervousness.

Tony got closer, scanning their faces
and said, “You bitches are mine.”

Gawd,
Cynthia thought,
he's like a
B-rated movie or something
. Some of her
dismissal of his lack of intellect must have shown because his
brows dropped above his eyes, casting them in shadow and hiding
them from the first light of the day.

She thought he was a dumb ass and
didn't mind him knowing it. But, Cynthia flicked her eyes at Adi,
then her gaze slid to Jacqueline; poisoner of her bestie, and she
felt a frown darken her face.

Jacqueline smiled at Cyn but it never
reached her eyes. That wench didn't have a legit bone in her
body.

“
Well, well... what do we have here?” Jacqueline asked like
she was inquiring about the weather.

Tony's gaze shifted to her. “Shut up,
Singer bitch.”

Jacqueline turned that
laser beam of cruelty on Tony and he fell to his knees, hands at
his throat. The universal sign for choking was as obvious as if
he'd said the words 
I can't
breathe
.

Adi and Cyn began to back away. Cyn
didn't know Adi's exact thoughts but she figured if psycho one and
two wanted to go at it, they could. Without Adi and her in
attendance.

Tony plunged to his hands and knees,
his fingers clawing at the forest floor.

“
Are you going to be a good dog?” Jacqueline asked in a
cultured murmur.

Tony's body trembled. To be brought
low by a female Singer... or any female was a blow to his
considerable ego. But as the oxygen left his body and blackness
began to eat at the edges of his consciousness, he gave a nod of
his head, very like the tap out so popular in cage
fighting.

Survival was paramount to
Tony.

When he felt her hand in his hair he
cringed, gasping, though there was no breath to relieve him as he
hung there-- suspended between consciousness and not. His palms
slapped the decomposing earth at his sides. The two females he
hoped to denigrate were but a dim memory.

Tony was so aware his life hung in
the balance.

Jacqueline scratched behind his ear,
then petted his head. “There, there... you will do as I say... or
die,” she warned softly.

Sweat beaded under Tony's nose and a
low mewling sound broke the seal of his lips, robbing him of even
more precious oxygen.

“
Comply or die,” Jacqueline repeated, her fingers tightening
in his hair, jerking his head back with a strength borne of her
lineage. Royal blood, mixed with age, gave Jacqueline power she
otherwise would not have possessed.

The cords on Tony's neck stood out,
his face turning purple. His hands beat the damp earth, fingers
involuntarily clenching into the dew-kissed soil. Finally, moving
against her brutal hold, he gave another stiff nod.

His eyes met hers, black
meeting black and Tony knew... that he'd met a female who matched
him. Who was maybe
more
than he was. Tony hated it. It also made him
terribly aroused, violence and sex were inextricably linked inside
him. When death swirled around him, instigated by this Singer
bitch, he wanted her.

It made no sense, compulsions never
did. But it made perfect sense for Tony to embrace it.

“
I smell your desire, Wolf,” Jacqueline stated. “And I do not
rut with dogs like a bitch Were... you stupid creature.” She
released Tony abruptly and he fell, the invisible steel band that
had been around his sternum instantly gone.

He gagged, alternately coughing and
sucking greedy lungfuls of oxygen.

After his coughing fit
settled down into breathing
sans
choking, Tony looked up. His eyes sought
Jacqueline's but her's lay elsewhere.

During their power play, the quarry
had fled.

Tony didn't have to wonder if
Jacqueline had wanted the Singer and female Were. He would have.
And in that, Tony assumed, they were much alike.

Maybe in other ways as
well.

He smiled. “Nice going... the females
have fled,” he spat.

Jacqueline lifted one small shoulder
in dismissal and replied, “It is of no importance-- I have you,”
she said, her eyes drilling into Tony's, the black depths like
dimly lit obsidian marbles. “And you will use that keen nose of
yours to retrieve them.”

He stood, coming to her side and
showed his neck.

Jacqueline laughed. “You need not
show me your subservience. I know that I have it,” she said, giving
a low chuckle, her hand lifting in the air and closing tightly in a
fist at her last few words.

Tony frowned, looking down at her. He
could crush her; wanted to. He also wanted her in the other way as
well. Those two warring impulses were cross-wired in his brain.
They always had been.

He cocked his head. “Tell me, pure
Singer,” he began with thinly veiled sarcasm, “do you have Were in
your lineage?”

Jacqueline was instantly offended,
though her gaze skipped away like a rat that couldn't find its
hole. “There are no mongrels in my ancestry.”

Tony could smell her lie.
“Uh-huh,” Tony responded, and scented of her deeply, his nostrils
flaring wide. What he found gave him pause.
She might not know,
he thought. If
that were the case, she was not all that she seemed.