The Bloodline War (7 page)

Then had come number four, Magnolia, aka Maggie, a pampered former Southern belle and trained horticulturist, a totally useless profession in a cave, and a year later, number five, Kimberly, a workaholic, ladder-climbing, and also useless—at least to this particular community—lawyer. Both had been real trouble cases when it came to adjusting.

Luken, an indisputable
saint
of patience, had finally calmed down high-maintenance Maggie enough to get her underneath him and pregnant. Which had left Kimberly. Who knew Sedge would end up taking care of that little problem. But one day the badassed Mixed-blood Warrior had jacked her up against the wall outside of Garwald’s Pub and balled her brains out. Presto! Problem solved. No kids out of those two, yet, though.

The community had been way ready for another easy case like Hannah when number six had come along: sweet-as-chocolate pediatric nurse, Gwyn, who’d immediately taken to the eight Mixed-blood children in Ţărână. Gwyn had definitely been on the road to adjusting well, but….

Jaċken’s stomach wrenched on a pang of regret. No one would ever know how that might’ve turned out.

Gwyn was the only acquisition who’d been stolen by their nasty Om Rău neighbors.

Şarvan had been in charge of guarding Gwyn that fateful day, but the dingus warrior had let himself get distracted flirting with Trinnía, the community hairdresser, who was, granted, a total babe. To add insult, Trinnía was also a fellow Vârcolac, which meant that they’d both been breaking all kinds of fraternization laws with their bonehead actions. Meanwhile, Gwyn had darted off to chase after one of the children who’d headed into Stânga Town, Ţărână’s slum. She’d come too close to the Outer Edge, the main entrance to the Om Rău Hell Tunnels, and been grabbed.

Jaċken had fired Şarvan’s ass and tossed the fuckup in jail for a week. But that couldn’t bring Gwyn back. Nothing could. Not when it was impossible for a Vârcolac to enter the extreme heat of the Hell Tunnels.

Losing Gwyn had been Jaċken’s worst day as a warrior, not counting those six other days when he’d had to abduct an innocent woman, knowing full well how much he was about to screw up her life. Each time he did that, the part of him that believed in protecting women, not messing them up, suffered a blow. In his mind, there had to be a better way to bring these Dragons into their community, but when he’d questioned Roth privately, his boss had been snappish on the subject.

“What would you have us do, Jaċken? Just ask them?” Roth had flung a hand out. “Yes, let’s imagine a delegation of our race shows up on a Dragon woman’s doorstep and says, Excuse me, Miss So-and-So, would you mind giving up, (A) seeing your family on a regular basis, (B) your career objectives, and (C) any love interest you might currently have? And, oh, yes (D) would you also mind living underground, in permanent hiding, so that you might have babies with a vampire? I wonder what she would say? Or, no, perhaps I already know.” Roth exhaled impatiently. “We have to get the women down here to win them, Jaċken. There
isn’t
another way.”

And Roth had the final word in these matters.

Besides, Jaċken wasn’t in any position to make demands regarding Ţărână’s way of life, having lived here these last thirty-seven years subject to the generosity of the community. Besides, Roth had a point. People pretty much shut down at the first mention of the V-word, and wouldn’t give them chance one.

So, yeah, now here they were with number seven: recent acquisition, Antoinetta Parthen, doctor of hematology and all-around hot chick.

All Dragons were blonde and incredibly beautiful, a fortunate side-effect of their Dragon bloodlines, but Antoinetta was exceptional. Her hair was a flaxen waterfall streaked with fire flowing just past her shoulders, her eyes sapphire gemstones, and her body was a heart attack, the kind of leggy and busty combination that required a nearby drool cup to handle. On top of that, her scent was…had a…. Jesus, there was an added sweetness to her fragrance that had him working as hard to keep his pants on as his fangs choked back.

She was an unmated female, yeah, and all unmateds gave off a strong scent, a kind of a primitive pheromone which to a Vârcolac male smelled like she’d spritzed herself down with Eau de Screw Me.

Human females were more aromatic than Vârcolac females, and the Dragons were downright heart-stopping. But smelling this woman was like freebasing adrenaline and lust in one big fucking eight ball. He’d bet sweet blood like hers coated the tongue like a velvet orgasm. Squeezing his eyes shut behind his sunglasses, he pictured Antoinetta with her head thrown back, the graceful curve of her throat exposed, inviting him to take his fill. Or the creamy length of her thigh laid bare to him. Yeah, taste her essence, then go straight for the femoral….

Jaċken clenched his teeth, grinding them together until the bones in his head sounded like rocks tumbling down a cliff. He would
never
taste this woman…not in any way, ever, so he needed to shut his brain the hell up and pay attention. Not that there was anything much to pay attention to. Dr. Antoinetta Parthen had been silent for quite some time now.

He knotted the hands he had clasped behind his back into fists, and looked from Roth, who was seated behind his desk again, to Jess, then over to Antoinetta. The wait was killing him.
Damn it, do something already, lady
.

And then she did.

To his utter shock, she came out of her chair, snatched a letter opener off the desk, and pointed the nasty end of it at Roth. Jaċken stiffened as the expression on her face clicked from shocked horror to hostility as fast as someone pushing the button on a slide show.

“You’ll excuse me if I must decline your invitation, Mr. Mihnea,” she said between gritted teeth. “But having turkey basters filled with ‘vampire’ sperm stuck up inside of me isn’t particularly my idea of a good time.”

Roth looked mortified by the very idea. “I
assure
you, Doctor, that’s not at all what—”

“Don’t move,” she commanded sharply.

Roth stopped coming to his feet and sat back down, placidly placing both hands palms down on top of his desk. “We have no intention of hurting you.”

“You don’t move, either.” She aimed fierce blue eyes at Jaċken, obviously sensing that he was about to go Medieval on her ass. “I know how to use a knife,” she warned, switching her grip on the letter opener with a flip of her wrist, now holding it in perfect throwing position. “And I’m telling you, if you take one step toward me, I’m going to plant this thing in your chest.”

He sneered at her. What a crock of shit. Just because the lady could probably wield a scalpel didn’t mean she could go
Kill Bill
with any blade she happened to pick up.

“P-please,” Dr. Jess stammered, his face white. “I think everyone just needs to—”

“And that would kill you, right?” She laughed, a bit of hysteria edging the sound.

Well, hell, looked like Jaċken was going to get that meltdown he’d been waiting for, after all.

“I mean, you being a ‘vampire’ and all, and this being the proverbial stake in the heart. Or are you a zombie?” She backed up a step, keeping everyone within her sight line. “Maybe The Creature from the Black Lagoon, or—or, wait!—The Terminator. Yes! You look that part, don’t you?”

Roth shot him a droll look. “Well, this is new.”

“Put the letter opener down, now,” Jaċken ordered her, pitching his voice to a lethal tone. “If I have to take it from you, Dr. Parthen, I can guarantee you won’t like my methods.” He came out of his stance, his arms swinging forward and his legs spring-coiling in readiness.

Antoinetta let out a startled cry, her eyes widening on his forearm tattoos. “Holy crap! You’re one of those cult freaks!” Leaping at Jess, she seized the doctor by the top of his hair and cranked his head back, setting the tip of the letter opener at his throat.

Jess squeaked in alarm.

Roth roared to his feet as if he’d been goosed in the ass by an ice pick. “No!” he shouted. “Please, I beg you to take care, Dr. Parthen.” He held out a staying hand. “Blood is sacred to us, and if you draw Dr. Jess’s that…that will be an act of claiming him.”

Unfortunately, in her humanness, she couldn’t give Roth’s warning the weight it warranted. “Then I
suggest
”—she dug in the tip of the opener deeper to emphasize her point—“you unlock that door and let me out of here right now!”

“Dear heavens!” Roth gestured emphatically at Jaċken. “Stop her before she does something irrevocable.”

Finally,
action
. Jaċken stepped forward—

It might not be said he could move as fast as a Dragon warrior, but he could definitely get his ass in gear when necessary. Fast enough, at least, to stupefy the hell out of Antoinetta. Her eyes rounded when she found him suddenly standing right in front of her, his fingers wrapped around her weapon hand. Locking eyes with his target, he forcibly pulled the letter opener clear of Jess’s throat.

The doctor scrambled out of the way, smoothing a manicured hand down the front of his silk paisley tie.

Antoinetta’s blue eyes blazed furiously, the heat of her gaze sending blood pounding against Jaċken’s temples and into his ears. He applied steady pressure to her hand, but she wouldn’t give up the letter opener.
Stupid woman
. He twisted her arm down and behind her, then realized his own stupidity when the move brought her jerking up against him, her full breasts squashing into his chest. An electrical charge went through him, a burning heat landing right in his groin.

Antoinetta’s cheeks flushed a brilliant red, the plump softness of her breasts rising and falling unsteadily against the underside of his pecs.

His balls tightened at the feel of her. Her powerful scent tunneled into the ventricles of his brain. A noise came out of him, a deep, guttural
something
. It rolled up from his gut and rumbled from his chest, sending a warning vibration through his fangs. Antoinetta clearly found the animal quality of it convincing. Her arm went slack. He took the invitation and tugged the letter opener from her grasp, then stepped back and jammed it into his belt. Without missing a beat, he grabbed her by the shoulders, propelled her back over to her chair, and ass-planted her into the seat.

Air spilled out of her in a heavy rush, her cheeks leaching of color as her eyes went stark with fear.

Yeah, he’d guess it was finally sinking into her brain pretty damned firmly that she was completely at their mercy. That part of him that didn’t like to mess up women? It was an all over body-throb.

Easing back into his own chair, Roth gave her a look of genuine regret. “I apologize for the necessity of that, Doctor. We truly don’t want to hurt you.”

She swallowed visibly, casting an apprehensive glance over her shoulder at Jaċken.

Roth, ever the peacekeeper, gave him a discreet back-off nod.

Jaċken moved out from behind Antoinetta’s chair and took up his usual position next to Roth’s desk.

Roth offered Antoinetta a sympathetic smile. “I understand your fear, I really do, what with all the lore and legend that has traditionally surrounded vampires. Let me unequivocally assure you, doctor, that Vârcolac are not monsters. We’re
not
undead creatures who sleep in coffins and transform humans with our bites. We
can
see our reflections in mirrors. We
aren’t
driven off by garlic or crucifixes, although,” he added dryly, “a sharp object like a letter opener being driven into our hearts will kill us.” Roth let out a sigh. “Those are just hyped-up lies invented by our enemies years ago. We’re quite human, doctor, just a different…species of human, if you will. Look at us and you’ll agree there’re many similarities between our races.” He gestured broadly. “We laugh, we cry, we—”

“Suck blood?” The question was asked in no more than a whisper.

Jaċken nearly rolled his eyes. Guaranteed she was imagining some pasty-faced fiend swooping down on her and plunging stalactite-looking fangs into her neck. Dracula 101 crap all the way.

“That….” Roth cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s something we do. We call it feeding, but we don’t do it for any sinister purpose, rather because of a limitation to our physiology, that blood-need I described earlier. It’s a weakness, certainly, as is our inability to go out into the sunlight; we’re severely allergic to vitamin D, I’m afraid. But our breed also has many strengths. We’re physically stronger than regular humans, we can move faster, and our senses are more highly attuned in many areas. Can you imagine the benefits we could’ve brought to the human race had we been allowed to do so? What kind of soldiers we would’ve made, or detectives or researchers or—”

“Please, Mr. Mihnea.” She held up a hand. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe any of this. I’m a scientist, and none of what you’re saying fits in with my knowledge of how the world works.”

“Ah, yes.” Roth stood up and strode around to her. “People of science tend to need concrete proof. I remember that with Ellen, our dentist.” He settled his hip on the edge of the desk, gesturing at the blood graph and photo next to him. “Something more tangible than these, I imagine?”

“No. I—Really. I’d just like for us to agree to accept our differences and go our separate ways.”

Roth looked over at Jaċken as if she hadn’t spoken. “Where are Dr. Parthen’s mate-choices at present?”

Jaċken glanced down at his watch. “In the gym training.”

“Excellent. They’re right down the hall. Jess, my good man, would you mind bringing them here?” Roth smiled. “I believe now would be a good time for Dr. Parthen to meet her future husband.”

Chapter Seven

Somewhere along the way, Toni’s brain had come unplugged. There wasn’t much going on inside her mind except a lot of white noise, backed by a repetitive
holy crapping
chant which seemed to be caught in an endless loop. No grand plans about how to get herself out of this disaster, that was for damned sure.

Okay, time to regroup. Line up her thoughts into a manageable row.