Finding the Blood Assassin [Lords of the Expanse 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (2 page)

A soft scrape of a boot to stone warned that his jailers were about to show themselves. Closing his eyes, he waited in silence for what was to come.

“Time to sleep, beast,” the deep, ragged voice cackled. The soft click had him tensing, and then the sharp pain in his right side that heralded the burn had him hissing softly moments before darkness crept in. “And now the fun begins,” was the last thing that Raven heard before he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * * *

“Welcome back, beast,” a new voice said in sultry tones as a soft, smooth hand stroked slowly down his chest. “We so did not want you to miss out on any of the fun,” she said, a definite smile in her voice.

Opening his eyes, all black from blood hunger, he stared blankly at their torture expert. Zalan was her name, exotic in looks, frail in form, built for sex, and the most vicious being he’d had the displeasure of ever meeting. But she had nothing on the Syndicate, as a whole that was, when it came to torture. Although, and this he would give her, she really was quite creative, whereas the Syndicate had stuck to tried and true brutality to make their point.

Feeling her run her finger down to his hip, Raven realized they’d stripped him bare again, oh joy of all joys. Smiling at him, Zalan held out that same hand and Raven watched dispassionately as a syringe was handed to her. He knew at least part of what was to come, and from the tools, he was piecing the rest of it together. What interested him, though, was the fact that there were no recording devices this time around.

Moments after the liquid was pushed into his bloodstream, Raven knew what the fluid was for. His blood began to move faster, his skin tingled, his heart raced, and his cock rose hard, thick, and long into the air. Still uncaring, he watched Zalan pick up the long needle-like device and, with undeniable sick pleasure on her face, she began to pierce his body. In the holes she put through his nipples were placed thick rings of metal that were sealed closed under intense heat and odd little barbell-shaped ones down the underside of his cock, a lot of them. The pain was excruciating, especially when she seemingly had a few extra and decided something even softer required “decoration.”

Not once during the whole procedure did Raven move, never did he flinch and, not even once did he make so much as the barest of sounds. Which obviously annoyed Zalan because she had them hook the various bits of metal to little wires that trailed off toward what he was guessing would be a lot of voltage. Unfortunately, he was right, and even with his body bent up over the table, something he couldn’t control, he let no sound escape. But by the gods did it pill him off. Probably not what she’d have done had she known the truth.

When they stopped the current to adjust a set of the tiny wires, he decided that as much fun as it had all been he was bored. With a feral grin at Zalan, her only warning, he broke free. From there it was utter chaos as he tore into them despite the silver still on his wrists and all the pieces piercing his flesh. He was a whirlwind of death.

Sometime later he stopped, bathed in blood and gore, chest heaving as he sucked in air and listened. Tilting his head slightly, he paid attention to the deceptive silence as his mind kicked in and he began to plan. He needed clothing and weapons, and then he would need to head for the shuttle area. There, if luck would hold but a little longer, he could find a craft capable of getting him back home. He had to find someone, and then after asking his question, he planned on ripping the bastard’s still beating heart from his chest.

Under half an hour after his escape from the rack, he was clean, dressed, armed to the teeth, and starving. Whatever had been in the syringe was pushing the bloodlust closer to the edge, a very dangerous state after a month of being starved and drained almost constantly just for fun. Rolling his shoulders, he pushed the hunger away as he’d been trained to do and focused on getting away. Heading out, he moved cautiously but quickly. Every moment he delayed was time they would have to realize he was free and that they were down half their garrison and so-called support staff.

Silent kills. That was all he did on his journey to the shuttle area, even taking a few extra and precious seconds to stash the bodies from immediate discovery. It was all necessary, though. Any extra time free of discovery was additional time he needed to get away from there.

Finally, he thought upon reaching the last door, he was at the shuttle area and steps from being truly free. But, as with all good things, it was not to be that easy. Why he’d actually thought it would be he’d never know. Snarling silently, teeth fully elongated, Raven slid through the door and used the shadows to his advantage as he approached the last being between him and what he sought.

Female, close, and…Vampire? Lifting his head in confusion, Raven stepped farther back into the shadows as he tracked her by sound and other skills he possessed. When she was close enough he whipped out a hand, caught her by the throat, and pulled her to him as he spun and, in the next movement, slammed her back to the crates, hiding him from sight.

“I’m in a very, very bad mood and extremely hungry,” he spoke quietly in a dark voice. It was one no one liked to hear and, on more than one occasion, he’d actually been asked to refrain from speaking if at all possible. Because of people’s reactions to his voice, he rarely spoke unless he wanted the fear of the gods thrust into someone. “I will only ask once, and you will speak honestly or you will die,” he said softly, his eyes glowing red. He was having trouble controlling the bloodlust this close to a female of his species. Loosening his hand just a little, enough for her to speak but tight enough to continue to convey his threat of killing her, he tipped his head slightly. “Who the hell are you?”

Chapter 2

She was ten when she was first taken on the first mission with her father. There was nothing like an Alliance vessel, especially a war Alliance vessel. She loved the times with her father, a man who would never father a son. He gave her everything, and he taught her everything, but none outside of his closest in command knew the true depth of the woman called Jamison Montague.

Most women of the Vampire nation went through their hormonal beginnings, their stride into womanhood, at the tender age of one hundred. Jamison, however, didn’t.

What some called a Seer gave a sign that she would find her womanhood at the age of seventy-five. 

* * * *

“For fifteen years I have been a part of your crew, Father. For fifteen years I have done everything from ensuring the recycle conduits were clean to serving coffee to piloting fighters and shuttling dignitaries. I am a part of your crew, Father. However, you won’t see me as such. Why?”

“Because you are my daughter and because you are still just a baby, Jami. You shouldn’t be on the front lines any longer. You need to spend time with your mother, learning to be a lady so that one day you can marry well and bring me a son for whom I can pass my house to.”

She knew the truth for what it was, and it was killing her but she nodded. “Father, I will not become a woman for another seventy-five years. That is too much time to spend with mother.” At least that was the time she had thought she had, and should have had. Jamison had never believed the Seer who prophesized that she would go through her puberty at the age of seventy-five instead of one hundred. Jamison loved her mother, she really did. One could only take so much of her mother, and her father knew that.

“I know that, Jami, but with the mission that I’m about to leave on, I won’t be back before you should begin your training. Go, be with your mother and try to learn from her?” he asked as he laid sturdy dark hands on her straight shoulders. “And I don’t want you anywhere on a ship when you go through the hormonal changes of a woman. You deserve far more than being on a ship full of men when all you want is…” He trailed off and bumped her cheek with his closed fist. A gentle brush of knuckles lovingly given to his only child. “However, as soon as you have finished your training with your mother, you can come back to my ship. Once you come back I will begin to train you for engineering.”

She knew when she was beat and nodded. She didn’t want to stay with her mother, however, she had learned one very important rule. Women were not allowed on Alliance vessels that were going into any kind of melee unless they were an officer’s wife, and even then it was rare. “All right, Father, I look forward to it.”

She watched as the large man that she knew was gruff and withdrawn pulled back and away. He was cold to her mother, but who wouldn’t be? The woman was a shrew and believed that because she was of a Lord’s House everyone should bow and scrape to her. She used her husband’s rank and position to make herself more than she was. Her father, however, was a good man, especially when it was just her and her father. He was warm and friendly, but not around anyone else.

* * * *

Jami was seventy-five when she went through puberty, so to speak, and when she came out she was not only physically changed, but mentally and spiritually. The Seer from another land had not only told Jami that she would go through puberty early, but also had imparted to her in hushed tones just what she would come out the other side with.

Women of the Vampire nation all matured normally at their hundredth birthday. They underwent a physical and psychic change at that time. The time was marked with days of fever, delirium, and danger. The few women that survived came out the other side with amazing abilities. The men had dark gifts, and they were truly astounding. But the women were different. Some of the very, very rare ones came out of their puberty with a lighter ability, but no one outside of the highest ranks of the Alliance Council knew this.

When Jami came out on the opposite side of her puberty, she had a gift that was unique. Jami came out able to find anyone or anything at any time.

When Jami woke from her seven days of hell, what the women who survived the marking of their puberty termed it, she didn’t speak to anyone. She simply dressed, packed a bag, and walked out the door of her mother’s home, never to look back again.

* * * *

One hundred years passed, she lived and worked, breathed and learned with each mission and each step she took. She never went back to her father’s ship. Instead she bought her own small ship and began to work her gifts. Hardened by time and necessity, she was contacted only privately, and through an Alliance council member. Her abilities were a tightly held secret that no one in the Alliance wanted anyone to know, not even others of their kind. No, Jami was more than special. She was their ace in the hole. Too bad for her.

* * * *

It was a space fight, one that meant life or death for her. Sometimes doing what she did, finding the lost, was enough to have people ready to kill her. This was sadly one of those times. She made the first evasive move in the small and agile runner she’d bought two years earlier from proceeds she had received from finding a lost heiress five years earlier. She punched through a small break in the warbird’s defense, laughing as she took the runner into a spin. She raced around asteroids before using the gravity of the nearest moon to jumpstart her velocity and evade the full force of the Alliance Warship.

Leaning back in her chair, she puffed out her cheeks in a sigh that said exactly what she felt. Thank whatever Gods she believed in she was alive. Wiping a hand over her eyes, she bent at the middle and breathed in and out, in and out. For several long moments of time she simply lived.

“Damn, that was too damn close,” she grumbled and pulled out the long rectangular box. “I hope like hell you’re worth it.” She tossed the parchment paper inside of the box onto the center of the flight console and put in the coordinates to the drop off point. “Well, to me you will be at least,” she said with a grin and patted the little box.

Her mother would turn over in her grave if she knew what Jami did. She would come back from the grave just to beat her over the head, but her mother was long dead and buried, so that was all well good and fine. Her mother was a woman that Jamison could barely stand, but she still had been there to teach Jami how to be a
lady.
So to speak.

Standing from the captain’s chair, she brushed her hand down the skintight, silver, leatherlike material that showed every single one of her curves and seemed to accentuate them extensively. With efficient and precise movements, she left the flight cabin and padded right into her sleeping cabin.

The craft was small, lightweight, and heavily armored. It had engines that would make a warship proud, but very little weaponry. Her ship was the way that it was because she had always been a firm believer in if you can run you should, hide if you can, and if all else fails, get the hell out of the fire if it came down to it.

Being small meant that she could travel light and alone. She didn’t have to have someone there who would be able to pick up on just “how” she found the treasures, lost people, and more. No, that would be very, very bad if it got out. She had just enough room on the small vessel to be able to house two other beings in a sleeping cabin, but she made it a rule not to have someone there for any longer than necessary.

Dropping onto her too large bed that took up most of the room, she lay back knowing she was safe, for now. She was inside of Alliance borders, and being a child of a Lord and Lady, not to mention the only daughter of a highly decorated military Lord Officer, she had a clear path before her.