Blood at Stake (Warriors of the Krieger Book 2) (3 page)

“One of them said something about a vial,” I
told him, pulling the blanket around me tighter.

“Did they want your blood?” Ashby turned
toward me, just for a moment. It was then that I noticed the whites
of his eyes had filled with blood, his fangs were making points
into his bottom lip.

“I assume so,” I frowned. “Why else would
they need a vial?”

The bullet at my neck started to burn, and I
reached back to feel the hole. I hissed at the constant burning
sensation, then absently scratched at the wound. It itched like an
insect bite.

“What’s wrong?” Ashby demanded.

“It burns,” I cried, digging more at the
hole in my neck. “It itches!” He didn’t say anything, but the
increased speed of the SUV told me that this wasn’t good. Something
was not right about this bullet in my neck.

“Feed from me again,” he said, twisting his
arm and shoving his wrist in my face.

“I took too much before,” I shook my head,
refusing to feed.

“
Do it now
,” he ordered on a growl,
causing my heart to clench with the need to obey his command.

I didn’t argue, as I sank my fangs into his
vein. The warmth spread across my tongue, and I greedily drank his
offering. My stomach was full, and I didn’t want him to yell again.
He obviously was concerned, so I did as I was told.

I noticed the hospital was only a few blocks
away when I suddenly felt the pull of death upon me. It wasn’t even
close to dawn, but for some reason, I was…sleepy?

Someone shouted my name, but it was too far
away. All I really wanted to do was close my eyes.

And so I did.

Chapter 2

Ashby

Her heart stopped as if she’d fallen into
her death sleep. My own heart sped to an unhealthy pace, the old
organ beat at my ribs so hard it was painful.

“Lydia,” I growled, reaching for the pulse
point on her wrist. Her skin was cold, but soft. I waited several
minutes, silently wishing a pulse to beat in her wrist.

She was dead.

“
Lydia! Lydia!
” I yelled into the
vehicle, even though I knew she couldn’t hear me. Stopping outside
the emergency entrance to Sacred Heart Hospital, I threw the SUV
into park. Leaving the engine running and the blue lights and siren
wailing, I pulled her into my arms from across the center console.
I used my speed to get her inside and thankfully Dr. Mason met me
at the nurse’s station.

Being a vampire himself, I didn’t need to
tell him that she was bleeding…or dead.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded and
rushed me toward a room.

“Human’s staked her and shot her in the back
of the neck,” I cursed. “She started complaining about the wound
burning and then she just died!”

“How long ago was she shot?” he asked,
spitting off numerous questions.

“Approximately 25 minutes,” I answered.

“And how long ago did she die?” He reached
for her pulse point and frowned when he found none.

“About 3 minutes ago,” I answered.

“Any wounds other than the bullet and two
stake sites?”

“None that I know of,” I cursed. “What
happened to her? Why did she die? Is she going to be okay?”

“I need you to leave,” he said, pushing me
away and calling for nurses. “Do you know if her maker is
available?” He quickly snapped on some latex gloves and opened a
cabinet, pulling out several items he needs.

“Her maker is dead,” I admitted. “I gave her
my blood.”

Dr. Mason paused for a moment and looked at
me in surprise. Once the nurses arrived, he began to cut away her
beautiful dress. When her upper thigh was exposed, I immediately
gave the room my back, out of respect.

“I’ll be out in the waiting room,” I said,
as I walked away.

Other
Krieger
had arrived and met me
at the waiting room. Little Meadow, Lydia’s employee, was there
with Rowland, his huge body standing close to her side, but they
didn’t touch. She held a tissue to her eyes as she cried
softly.

The smell of Meadow’s bloody tears caused my
weakened body to respond, and I bit down hard so that my fangs
wouldn’t ache from the need to feed. Lydia had taken enough blood
from me to take down an average vampire. The only reason why I was
still standing was only because of my warrior bloodline.

I placed my hand on the wall and held my
breath. Along with the scent of bleach and other cleaners in the
hospital, the smell of blood always hung in the emergency room.
Dizziness and hunger gripped my body. My gut clenched, and I had to
blink rapidly to keep myself upright. I was drained.

“There is a donor area down the hall,”
Bastian said, coming up beside me and taking my arm in a tight
grip. “Come on.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled and let him drag me to
the Red Cross office down the way.

Humans were paid to allow us to feed from
them. Most vampires either visited the Red Cross donor center every
night at dusk or kept pre-donated blood on hand in case of an
emergency. We fed daily and if we were injured, we would fed until
our health was restored. The blood of our maker would be like
taking a magical, medical cure. Most of the older vampires do not
have the luxury of having their maker around, since so many of our
kind had been killed off over the decades.

The woman behind the counter looked up as we
walked in, and from her quick intake of breath, I didn’t think she
received many visits from the
Krieger
very often.

“
Krieger
,” she said, as Bastian
pulled me to the counter.

“He needs donors, now,” he demanded. The
older woman immediately stood and pointed to a secluded room.

“Take him in there, and I will gather up
donors,” she scurried away, shouting orders to the other employees,
before spinning around with wide eyes. “Um, how many does he
need?”

“At least four,” Bastian growled. “And they
need to be here in the next two minutes or things may get
messy.”

“Yes,
Krieger
,” she bowed, hurrying
down the hallway.

Being a warrior, one donor would not help me
in this state and somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this. My
hazy brain kept trying to deny the thought of human donors, because
I didn’t like the idea of human blood. I wanted a petite, auburn
haired vixen to feed me. The only thing keeping me from tossing
everyone aside, was that she would need me when she awoke from her
death.

“Sit here,” Bastian demanded, shoving me
into a chair. “How much did she take from you?”

“A lot,” I admitted, swaying a little in the
process. “But she needed it.”

“I see,” he huffed. “Do you think it’s a
good idea to be giving citizens your warrior blood to the point
that you can’t defend yourself if need be?”

“Leave me,” I growled, refusing to answer
his question. I didn’t need to justify my reasoning to him or
anyone else. Lydia needed me.

The door opened and four humans walked in,
each one rushing to stand next to the nurse. I didn’t even look at
their features. All I noticed was that two were men and two were
women. The male sat in front of me and turned his head to the side,
offering me his vein. I felt his fear, even tasted it on my parched
tongue. Bastian stood close and nodded to the human who relaxed
slightly.

“Thank you, son,” I said, as a sign of
respect before I struck at his vein. The blood was bland, but
fulfilling. It was only a matter of seconds before Bastian wrapped
his huge hand around the back of my neck. The pressure from his
hold caused me to reluctantly release the human. I growled and
bucked uncontrollably, trying to protect my prey. Before I could
strike out against my fellow warrior, the other human male was in
front of me.

I quickly mumbled my gratitude, as I did
with the first one, before taking his vein as well. The foggy haze
that was over my mind finally started to lift. My reasoning of why
I was here seemed a little clearer as the blood worked slowly into
my system. By the time the woman reached her seat in front of me, I
was calmer and more understanding.

“Thank you, sweet child,” I said, as I took
her wrist, instead of her neck. I only wanted my lips and teeth to
touch one female neck, and she was currently sick, or possibly
dead-dead. I had no clue.

After the fourth feeding, I was feeling
myself once again. Bastian made me sit for a few minutes after
everyone left the room, to give the blood time to circulate through
my system. The worker talked to him quietly outside of the room,
and I didn’t hear what they are saying. My mind was elsewhere.

In fact, with my blood inside Lydia, I felt
the connection Dragus had told me about. I
felt
her. When I
closed my eyes, I could touch her soft skin with my mind, as if she
was there with me. It was very strange, experiencing two different
sensations. I knew my immediate surroundings.

The other part of me was inside the room
with Lydia, my presence so close that I was touching her cold skin.
Her pain, or at least the pain she had felt, was mine. The burning
sensations in my neck told me that they hadn’t taken out the bullet
yet.

I could
feel
her. Like…like she was
awake…
alive
!

My legs stood up on their own, and I ran for
the door, almost removing it from its hinges. Bastian called my
name as I passed him in a blur. The moment I stepped up to the room
Lydia was being treated in, she took her first intake of
breath.

“Lydia,” I gasped.

“Get out!” Dr. Mason demanded, but I ignored
him and moved forward. The nurses were scurrying around while the
doctor was preparing another sedative. The scent of her blood
overwhelmed the room. The nurses and doctor wore gloves that were
stained red with it as they worked over her. Even though I’d just
fed, my fangs elongated to deadly points as I tasted her sweet
blood in the air.

Her beautiful emerald eyes searched the
room, looking for something, or someone familiar. When her eyes
found mine, the pink tears she’d had earlier returned, spilling
over her lashes.

“I still hurt,” she choked out, her eyes
pleading with me to make things better.

“Get that damn bullet out of her neck,
now
,” I demanded. A nurse injected morphine into Lydia’s
vein, and Dr. Mason grabbed his scalpel.

“It’ll be out shortly, Lydia,” I promised
softly, her eyes never leaving my own. “Just let the medicine
spread, baby, then you will be okay.”

“Promise?” She choked, her bloody tears
staining her beautiful face.

“Promise,” I said, taking her cold hand into
mine. I pressed my lips to the inside of her wrist as a vow to
protect her.

“If you insist on staying, then you need to
help,” the doctor bit out, obviously irritated with my presence in
the room.

The doc rolled Lydia on her side, and I
wrapped my arm around her so that I could keep her at the angle he
needed to work on the wound. Nurses poked at the area, and when
Lydia didn’t flinch, Doctor Mason made quick work of the
bullet.

“Ow,” he hissed, dropping the bullet on the
bed. His fingers were red from his contact with the metal he’d
pulled from her neck. “Don’t touch it! Get a tray over here.”

He used tweezers to pick the bullet up and
dropped it into a metal pan. The nurses backed away from the thing
like it was a bomb.

“That’s a silver bullet,” the nurse said, in
awe.

“That’s not silver,” the doctor announced,
concern etched on his face. “Silver doesn’t do anything to us,
anyway. That’s for the Lycan’s. That has to be some other type of
material.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I
demanded. “That
is
silver. I can smell it. It shouldn’t have
done anything to Lydia or to you when you touched it.”

“It’s enchanted,” another nurse said,
slipping into the room. “I can sense it.”

“What are you saying, Prue?” Doc
demanded.

“It’s been cursed,” she began. The vampire
nurse leaned over and inhaled deep, scenting the bullet fragment.
She straightened quickly and covered her nose as if she’d smelled
death. Prue shook her head, long black curls bounced around her
face as she frowned. “That’s black magic, Doctor. A witch…or
someone has put a spell on that bullet. It’s tainted.”

“How do you know this?” I demanded, grabbing
the nurse by the arm and turning her so that I could look into her
eyes that were still on the bullet.

“My ability is to sense magic, good, or in
this case…evil,” she looked up at me, her dark eyes flaring in
anger. “Someone enchanted this bullet with spells,
Krieger
and if my assumptions are correct, I have a feeling this won’t be
the last time a citizen is attacked.”

If this was true, then these humans were
after something other than collecting samples of our blood. They
had made this personal when they attacked Lydia. I would find them
and stop whatever they had planned. This was my vow to her.

Chapter 3

Lydia

When I came alive again, I was in a room I
didn’t recognize. The room was large, the colors masculine. I
tested the air, looking for any threat. My body warmed when I
tasted Ashby’s scent on my tongue.

“Lydia,” his deep baritone voice spoke from
across the room.

“Where am I?” I asked, sitting up in the
huge bed.

“At my home, on the
Krieger
estate,”
he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I sensed worry. “I brought
you here yesterday morning, just before dawn. You were given
morphine at the hospital and were sleeping. I didn’t want to take
you home and leave you to go into your death sleep alone.” Ashby
shifted on his feet, from side to side, as if he was nervous.

“Wait,” I said, turning to put my legs on
the floor, but then realized I was not quite dressed for company.
“Who dressed me in your shirt?”