blood 03 - blood chosen (8 page)

Paul held out his hand, his carrot colored hair flopping with his enthusiastic pump of her hand. “Thanks.” She cocked her head, releasing his hand. “You're the one who’s keeping it all at a dull roar.”

He nodded. “I figured you'd be kind of a wreck with Scott taking off and all.”

Julia dropped her chin, her eyes cast at the ground. “Yeah.”

“What a dipshit I am!” Paul slapped his forehead. “I shouldn't have reminded you. Cyrus said three days max anyway.”

Julia snapped her eyes to his. “What? That's as long as we can be separated?” She took a stab at guessing.

Paul gave a small roll of his eyes. “Kinda unprecedented, Julia. One,” he put the index of his right hand and tapped his left with it, “you're the Rare One—big upset.” His light blue eyes met hers and she smiled despite herself. “Two, you have the big Soul Meld with the most volatile Singer at our compound.”

Julia's smile became a grin. “Yeah.”

“He hated you in the beginning remember?”

She did. Interesting phenomena: Jason hated her, Scott had hated her... now it was William's turn. She sighed.

“Listen, I'd be a crappy Negator if I didn't dial back your telepathy and lessen the discomfort while he's away.”

Julia looked at him. “This isn't going to work, y'know.”

Paul grinned, his pale skin and flaming hair made him look almost like a living cartoon. He waggled those orange brows, “Which part?”

Gawd
. “Pick one,” Julia said, entering the kitchen. She opened the fridge, saw nothing of interest then closed it again.

“Nah, this is how you do it,” Paul walked forward and opened the fridge, flashing the contents, then closed it. He repeated it two more times then said on the third try, “It's three times open, that's the charm.”

Julia laughed, walked forward and opened the fridge for the second time.

Then a third. Suddenly, she spotted a container, hidden in the very back of the fridge filled with mixed fruit. She snatched it, popped the lid, took a whiff and decided it was good enough.

“Gross...” Paul wrinkled his nose at her selection, “but see how that works?” Paul asked.

Julia smiled and nodded. She grabbed a fork and dug in as she leaned against the edge of the granite countertop, watching the men replace all the missing panes of glass. Paul looked at her, then turned and opened the fridge. He grabbed a slice of two day old pizza and ate it cold.

“Now that's gross... ick.”

Paul took a huge bite and grabbed a bottle of orange juice and chased the whole load down the food pipe. “Awesome, more like. You don't know what you're missing.”

“I don't, do I?” Julia asked in coy disdain, grinning. Suddenly, Paul stuffed the pizza into her open mouth and she squealed, dropping the fruit where it conveniently landed upside down in a colorful splatter on top of the polished wood floor.

Julia began to choke, laughing around the slice and tried to fight Paul off as he merrily crammed it in and she landed against the fridge, trying not to pee her pants. She needed the levity, she did.

Too bad it was a short term thing.

There was a sudden pressure against her body then it was gone, Paul was airborne behind her, slamming into the wall. Julia's half a slice of mashed pizza fell from her open mouth, landing on top of the floor as two large palms smacked beside her on the fridge and she screamed.

Those eyes that had once been hazel were now a swirling vibrant green, the green grass of Easter basket shavings.

So green.

They spun and she whimpered when talons as long as rulers slid against the side of her face. One slithered to the center of her throat where the hollow lay, her heartbeat pushing the tip of it up and down in a staccato rhythm of fear.

“Are you hurt?” Jason growled.

Julia tried to speak, “N-”-couldn't. She cleared her throat. “No,” she whispered. Then, “Please... Paul...” she remembered, her eyes moving to where Paul had slid down the wall, out cold. “Oh my God, you've hurt Paul!” Julia said, finally finding her voice.

Jason had his wife caged with his arms, only his hands were changed. But he could see by Julia's expression that maybe a little of his wolf had bled through in his eyes.

His scent was sharpened,
maybe a little snout as well he thought
. Jason could taste her fear. His own lust and anger brought every emotion to the forefront. Jason hated that he loved her. Julia tried to move and he wrapped his hand around her nape and dragged her against himself. She molded to him perfectly- as she always had.

“Let me go,” Julia said, her fear a metallic taste in her throat like spoiled pennies.

“Do it... or I will cook you until your entrails boil within your body,” Victor said from the doorway.

Jason stepped away from Julia, letting his talons slide back into his fingertips, his scent receptors going dull, his eyes—normal normal. It was that fast. One moment, his wolf rose, then he blinked and he was just Jason again.

Keeping Julia at his back, he spun around to the one Combatant that faced him. Victor gave him a chilly little smirk and walked in.

Victor flicked a casual glance at Paul as he walked by his slumped figure on the floor then put the kitchen island between the two of them. “Why are you threatening Julia?” he began in a low voice.

“Pfft,” Jason said in a dismissive hiss. “I haven't threatened her. Why, didn't ya get the memo, Vic? She's my
wife.
What kind of husband do you think I'd be... to resort to violence?”

Julia looked around Jason's body, trying to subtly scoot out from behind him and his hand snaked out, latching onto her wrist and she yelped. Victor moved without thinking, answering as he swung his body over the top of the granite slab, “A desperate one.”

Victor's feet plowed into Jason and he stumbled back as Julia slid to the side and the fridge door collapsed around the impact of Jason's body.

Julia ran to where Paul lay. He was coming around, the sounds of the two of them fighting a meaty charge Julia wished she wasn't privy to. “Wake up,” Julia said, giving Paul a light slap on the face.

“Wha—what?” Paul's eyes focused on hers, then to a point behind her shoulder. “Julia!” Paul yelled and Julia turned around just as familiar arms took hold of her. William ripped her from the floor and blurred them both to the front porch before Jason and Victor could take their next breath.

Memories crushed Julia: William's mouth on her wrist, taking her blood, William saving her from his own people. William.

Always William.

But night had fallen and the vampire was at his strongest, his Singer blood thrummed through veins where enough of it ran to allow shapeshifting. Now the master of his own coven, William was but looking for opportunity. There would be a score to settle with the Seattle Kiss but that would wait until he and Julia could discuss their options.

Is that not why Scott had left his soulmate and prophesied Rare One in their tender care? If not to explore her immortality... the unity that could bridge the groups?

He would but speak with her and once he found out what he needed then he would bow out.

Or not, as the case may be.

*

William

He flung himself onto the porch, Julia in his arms, dizzy from the speed of his acquisition of her as the Combatant charged the porch. William forced his change with a speed that even he didn't know he was capable of. Black feathers unfurled like soft water, wrapping Julia inside a blanket of heat. William jumped into the air, his talons lightly plucking at her clothing. He did not wish for a repeat of the devastating injuries of their last transport. He sped into a night that was like a gift presented just to him, the squall of Combatants storming after him. He heard weapons leaving their complacent sheathing, shouting and even a hand brushed his talon as he lifted Julia to safety and privacy.

“William,” Julia yelled over the rush of air through his wings.

The lights from the old grand Victorian glowed from beneath them and Julia felt how chilly it was this high in the sky as the scenery blurred beneath them.

“Not yet,” William said, circling an area about two miles north of the compound. Her weight swung like a pendulum beneath him as the ground rushed up to meet them and he slowed his descent.

William settled Julia on the ground beneath him and perched on a large stump, clear cut a century before Julia's birth.

“They'll come... all of them.” Her voice was furious in its fear.

He cursed as his bones and tendons slid back into position. Talons retracted, the sharp beak of his face melted into the familiar features of false humanity he normally maintained. His eyes would be last, glowing red in a pale face framed by hair that blended with the night.

William shook off the fatigue he was normally saddled with after the transition, catching his breath. “I know, but in this, I have solitude but for a few moments.” William straightened painfully, then took one step toward Julia. Then another.

She met him in the middle with a sob caught in her throat as she gripped the remaining tatters of clothing. “I don't feel him, William.”

“The Singer?” he asked, holding her, his hand gripping the back of her silky hair. He felt her nod soundlessly against him.

“He's gone after the primary threat and left you to your own devices. He knows that no force, no principality, no matter how great, shall have you.” William put her away from himself, smelling the salt of her tears and if there was ever one that he could ache for, it would be she. William placed a cool finger underneath her chin and lifted it until their eyes met. “He has placed you in good hands, Julia. He knows...” William took his eyes away from hers then felt them unerringly move back to hers. “He knows that I love you.”

Julia moved against him again, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I care about you. But love?” She stepped away again, holding her arms away from her small body. “I don't know how I feel about anything anymore. Confused doesn't cover it,” she said, and a shaky, hysterical laugh broke from her throat.

William grasped her hands. “Know this: we want you safe, the Singer, myself... even the renegade Were.”

Julia snatched her hands away. “Jason doesn't want me safe.” She turned away from him. “He just threw Paul... our Negator, against the wall.”

“I awoke as it transpired... Marcus has been most gracious in allowing me to stay at the compound. We vampire are usually burned on sight,” he commented in a droll voice as he paced away from Julia.

Julia felt her mouth quirk but would not be deterred. “You're different. Scott... he said you could stay.”

“Ah,” William said, lacing his hands neatly behind his back as he stalked toward Julia again. “But for how long and at what cost? It might be that I am tolerated until you come to some decision and then I shall be cast out or worse.”

Julia's head whipped in his direction. His gaze locked with hers. “No... they wouldn't do that.”

William hesitated to crush Julia's naïveté. He hesitated, then gave her his thoughts, “Yes, they most certainly would.”

“Then why bother with the principle of having the Rare One if she can't do the damn job!” Julia hissed her frustration.

“That is the biggest question. One I think your Region Two disappeared monarch was quite practical about.”

Julia stared at him. “Jacqueline?” she asked, shocked.

He nodded. Then William wrapped his arms around her. “Say that you feel nothing and I will go... I will not press the advantage of our time together, the blood connection we've shared nor hold the leverage of saving the world above your head.” He said it all with perfectly straight delivery. Only William could say the unthinkable and make it sound plausible.

Gee, thanks for that
, Julia thought. But as she looked into eyes that had left crimson behind and moved to the familiar gray storm she remembered- she found no guile. Only one uncomfortable emotion was left in those drowning pools of gray.

Love.

Julia stood on tiptoe, the palms of her hands on the fullness of the muscles that covered William's chest. She would kiss him, in friendship- in thanks. William was her anchor in this sea of uncertainty. Her sadness at Scott's abandonment receded before them.

Their lips brushed, his were cool ice against her fire and then it became more. Like a whirlpool sucking the debris inside, Julia fell against him and William was there to capture her in the strength of his arms.

William groaned and buried his hand in her hair with a gasp of desire that was part anguish and part relief. As if he thought he would never touch her again.

“Well isn't this fucking sweet,” Jason said.

Their lips parted like resistant taffy and Julia covered her mouth with her hand while her husband raked his cold eyes over her body.

“You'll just do anyone now, won't you?” Jason said, stalking like a predator toward Julia and William slid his arms around her, hauling her against his chest.

“Do not, Were,” William warned.

“Ya pissed... that I interrupted your little tryst in the woods?” Jason gave an angry nod at William, agreeing with his own presumptions.

His face turned to Julia and he got close to her, their noses almost touching. “You've become a cheating whore in the time I've been away. How many supernaturals have you been with since I 'died'?” he asked in a voice gone low in rage.

“William, let me go.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, giving Jason a look of warning.

She nodded and he let her go. Julia slid out of a grasp that should have been cold because it was a vampire who held her. But it had been strangely warm.

Julia guessed some of it depended on who held you.

Her eyes found Jason. His stare was like the frigid glaciers of Alaska. The flakes of green in his hazel eyes were the floating ice. Julia met him, standing inches from him as she craned her neck to meet his angry eyes. “You can't be a virgin
and
a whore,” she stated as fact.

She moved away from him, William their silent witness, and Jason looked like he'd been sucker punched.