Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (17 page)

BOOK: Blood Judgment (Judgment Series)
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She stopped beside him. “Julian?” Her voice quivered with uncertainty.

He wanted to grab her and kiss her until she wouldn’t look at anyone else.

“That wasn’t what you think.”

“Right.” It came out in a snarl. “Your lips stuck to his wasn’t what it looked like.”

“If you’ll contain your jealousy for a minute, I’ll explain.”

“Jealous?” He barked a laugh. “I don’t think so.” He stalked across the parking lot.

“Wait. Stop it.”

He kept walking and said nothing.

She caught up and touched his arm.

He growled and shook her off.

“Stop. Damn it. That wasn’t what you think.”

He stopped, grabbed her arm in a hard grip, and pulled her around to face him. “Don’t blow sunshine up my ass. I know what I saw. And I know you’ve lain with him.”

“You don’t know shit, Julian. That was Mick. We’ve been friends for years. He was my feeding partner until you came along. He wished us well and I kissed him goodbye. As in I wouldn’t be seeing him anymore because of you.”

“You
have
had sex with him, haven’t you?”

“I have. Now get off it.”

 

“I DON’T fucking believe it,” Tommy said as he and Sid walked out of Dangles.

“What?” Sid looked around for whatever had caught Tommy’s attention.

“There.” Tommy pointed to a pair of vampires embroiled in an argument.

“She’s one of the waitresses.” Sid watched them with apparent interest. “Her boyfriend isn’t too happy about something.”

“He’s Julian, my ex-roommate.”

Sid whistled. “He’s a big bastard. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

Tommy grunted. “Guess she’s his girl. Sure didn’t take him long to find one.”

“Tonight isn’t his night.” Sid fished his cell phone from his pocket and made a quick call. “The others will be here in ten minutes tops.”

The male and female broke apart and walked away from the club. Sid wasn’t sure if the fight had run its course or not. The male looked stiff and hostile and the female agitated, and neither seeming to notice their surroundings. Easy pickings.

“Come on.” Sid motioned for Tommy. “Be ready, I know you want the male.”

They closed the gap slightly between them and the vampires, but hung back far enough not to draw attention.

Sid pointed. “He’s been caught and processed. See his brands?”

“Yeah. He’s got the violent one, too.”

“Uh huh. Like I told you, they’re all dangerous.”

“I wonder how bad that hurt.” Tommy’s eyes were fixed on the male.

“They’re heat-branded, what do you think?”

“Pretty bad, I guess.”

They followed the pair out of the populated area to where the streets were quiet. Sid gave the go-ahead. “Take him down.”

Tommy pulled the gun from the back of his waistband and loaded the drug cartridge.

 

JULIAN’S FIRST inclination was to continue right down the main drag. It was the shortest way home, but the most visible and not the way he should be doing things.

He cut down a side street with Saranna beside him, a sullen expression stamped on her face. Maybe his own expression wasn’t any better because he was still scorched, knowing the little creep in the club had slept with her.

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted her badly enough that seeing another male touch her made him homicidal. What the fuck was wrong with him? He needed to get his priorities in order. He didn’t need or want a mate. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her, even claim her, but sex wasn’t love. That was lust. What he
needed
was a shot at the Resistance. And for that, he had to get a grip on his nature and bend to vampire ways.

A vehicle turned down the street, engine roaring as it barreled down on them.

He grabbed Saranna’s arm and leapt out of the way, dragging her with him. Everything went slow-mo. The vehicle passed them and screeched to a halt. Four men piled out.

Tommy?

Julian was dumbstruck. What the fuck?

Tommy’s gleeful expression was a pretty good clue that they needed to get the hell out of there. His blood turned to sludge. Were these men flesh traders? Was Tommy?

The idea of Tommy hunting vampires was as unthinkable as a nun pole-dancing in a strip club.

Tommy jerked a gun into position and fired.

Pain slammed Julian’s shoulder.

No!
Shit, no.

He hissed in fury, grabbed the dart, and yanked it out. His eyes locked with Tommy’s and blackness passed between them. He fled, dragging Saranna with him. They had to lose the men and hide before he went down. The pop of a pistol sounded and Saranna gasped and jerked in his grip. “Run. Come on,” he barked.

They made it to the end of the street and raced down two more blocks before his legs betrayed him and he stumbled. He caught his balance. They weren’t going to make it. The drug was in his blood. He wouldn’t be able to remain on his feet long.

A moment later, Saranna went down, jerking him to a halt. Whimpering, she curled on her side and looked up at him with frightened eyes. He bent to pick her up and nearly fell on top of her. His head swam. Instead, he positioned himself between her and their pursuers and dropped into an unsteady crouch.

Fangs bared, he faced the men. He growled, but he wasn’t able to back it up. His vision doubled, tripled. He swayed on his feet.

Tommy leveled a pistol at him.

He lunged forward, intending to rip Tommy to shreds.

Tommy fired.

The dart stung on penetration and the drug burned as it emptied into his body. The second load hit him hard and fast, dropping him before he reached Tommy.

The men surrounded him. Saranna whimpered. Fear and rage clenched his guts. He couldn’t protect her. He’d failed his most basic duty.

He groaned and tried to get up. His body ignored the command. Saranna lay moaning, her eyes clouded. Two men picked her up and Julian went ape-shit. He flailed on the pavement like a helpless dying thing, struggling uselessly as the men took her to the van and put her in a cage.

Then they came for him.

 

JULIAN’S AWARENESS returned a little at a time. The stench of fear, damp mustiness, the drone of conversation, and a lack of movement—like at the Security Center—filtered through his consciousness.

Panic shot through him. He drew his right hand up against his chest, but there was no pain. Nausea rolled through him and for a moment, he thought he was going to throw up.

He opened his eyes.

Locked in cages, they had been relocated from the van to a large cinderblock room. No windows. A partial wall that hadn’t been finished cut through half the basement. A garage door. A regular door. Two white service vans. A table and a half dozen mismatched chairs scattered around it.

Four men, including Tommy, sat at the table eating chips and playing cards. Crumpled soda and beer cans cluttered the table’s surface.

He tried to wrap his mind around the idea of Tommy hunting vampires and hanging out with lowlifes. Because, sure enough, that’s what the bastard had stooped to.

“Where are we?” Saranna whispered.

“I don’t know. How long was I out?” He tried to sit up and fell back.

“A long time. You were barely breathing. I think they overdosed you. They gave you an injection to bring you around.”

He tried again and managed to sit up. The cages sat with just enough distance between them to prevent them from touching each other.

“They’re flesh traders, aren’t they?” Her voice trembled.

“I think so. Tommy’s with them. He’s the one who shot me.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Yeah.” He leaned against the bars and wished he could touch her, hold her, comfort her. “If they separate us, I’ll come for you. I’ll get away and I’ll find you.”

She didn’t believe him. Doubt showed in her eyes and he smelled her fear. And his.

“I mean it. Don’t give up. No matter what happens. Don’t let them know you’re afraid. I promise I’ll come for you.”

Please, God, don’t let that be a lie
.

He fell silent as two men shoved back from the table and approached their cages.

They ignored him and lifted Saranna’s cage. She clutched at the bars. Her eyes locked with his, the hazel depths giving away her fear.

Enraged and panic stricken despite his words of assurance, he slammed into the bars. They didn’t give against his weight and he fell back onto the metal floor. Growling, he launched himself a second time, hitting the bars hard and again being rebuffed.

The cages were too small for him to fully stand and get any force behind his attack. They were sunk and it was his fault. He should have been alert for danger, not fighting with Saranna.

As he lay on the cold floor, they loaded her cage into a van. One of them got in and started the motor. The garage door rattled up and the van pulled out of the basement, lumbered up the driveway, and vanished into the darkness.

Tommy approached with amusement on his face.

“You bastard.” Julian gripped the bars in white-knuckled fury.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Miss your little girlfriend already? This time tomorrow night she’ll be too busy to miss you, she’ll be learning her new trade. Flat on her back.”

He lunged at the bars, trying to get at Tommy. “You, fucker. I’ll kill all of you.”

“Shit, Julian, you’d better be worried about what’s going to happen to you. She’s going to be a whore. Hell, she’ll probably like it. But you’re going right where you belong—to a hunt club.”

He threw himself on the bars again and hissed at Tommy.

“Last time I saw you, you weren’t looking so good. But you’re nice and healthy now. That’s good. You’ll give them their money’s worth.”

Julian growled.

“You’re all animal now, aren’t you? You move like an animal, react like one—growling and hissing. Full of fight.”

Julian gripped the bars and narrowed his eyes. He’d give anything to get his hands on Tommy. He’d kill him. And he’d make it hurt.

“I have to run. Have fun at the club.” Tommy took a few steps, but stopped and swung back around. “By the way, guess how much my cut is for your stinking hide.”

Julian didn’t respond.

“One thousand dollars for the two of you. Easiest damn money I ever made. And I contribute to removing vermin from the streets.” He spun on his heel and strode away.

 

JULIAN WOKE groggy and confused. Then things clicked back into place. He wasn’t surprised he’d dozed. They’d dosed him with enough drugs to drop a horse. Sick and hung-over from the chemicals, his stomach rolled.

The garage door rattled on its track and he jerked in surprise. A black van backed down into the basement and parked close to his cage.

They’d come for him. Two burley men stepped out of the van and approached his cage, one on either side.

“Looks like a good one.” The driver inspected him like a piece of meat. “See his brands?”

Julian growled, though his guts crawled.

The other man laughed. “Defiant, too.”

He hissed.

“Come on.” The driver moved to the opposite side of the cage. “Let’s get him loaded and hit the road.”

The men grasped long handles welded to the top of the specially constructed cage and picked it up. They slid the cage into the back of the van and closed the doors, shutting him in darkness that even his eyes couldn’t penetrate. A moment later, the van rolled forward.

He sat in hot, stuffy blackness and listened to the lulling hum of the motor as the van took him farther and farther from everything he knew. The heat and motion had his stomach in knots. He was going to puke, it was just a matter of when.

He rubbed his temple. This was his fault, every bit of it.

He had to get away and find Saranna. If he didn’t escape, he would be killed and that would be it for him. But Saranna… He couldn’t bear knowing what would happen to her.

He shoved his sleeves up and, having nothing else, used his sharp nails to rake first up one inner forearm and then the other, until the scent of blood hung think in the van and his arms burned and hurt with deserved pain.

 

THE VAN stopped. How far had they gone? A hundred miles? It seemed like the ride had lasted long enough to travel that far. The doors opened and Julian blinked as harsh fluorescent lighting flooded the van.

“Good Lord,” the bigger of the two men said. “Look what he did to himself.”

Sweat slicked, Julian lay on his side, panting in the wretched heat for every breath. The stench of vomit overwhelmed him, making him even sicker after the heat and drugs had made him ill. Blood covered his arms and shirt from his handiwork and puke smeared his jeans and shoes.

His cohort snorted. “Terrific. He’s unstable. We may have to keep him confined longer than usual. Don’t want him trying to fight instead of running.”

“Can’t piss around too long. We’ve got a full schedule.”

“Call Sid and order another. He always delivers on time and there’s plenty of room.”

Julian growled, let them think he was nuts. It might buy him a little extra time. His eyes adjusted and he took in his surroundings. They were in a large metal building with jail-like cells lining both sides.

They pulled the cage from the van and he made a show of baring his fangs and hissing. Ignoring him, they carried the cage to one of the open cells, set it down, and opened the door.

“Get out,” the larger man said. A jolt sent pain through his back. He howled and scrabbled forward into the cell. The cool night air enveloped him, relieving some of the heat-induced nausea.

The door slammed shut behind him.

He whirled and sprang for the bars, hitting them hard. They didn’t give. He glared at the men, lips peeled back in a snarl. The smaller man held an electric prod.

“Don’t bother with the attitude.” The man with the prod lifted his side of the cage. “Might as well settle down and relax. You can’t get out.”

They loaded the cage back into the van and backed out of the building, leaving him alone with his fellow prisoners.

A dozen cells lined the walls. The ones on either side of him were occupied.

The prisoner to his right was young, around his age. Long blond hair fell over his shoulders. His slim build was clothed in black, including a metal-studded belt. He looked like someone who belonged in a rock band, not in a cell waiting to be hunted down and killed like an animal. “Welcome to Death Row.” He gestured, indicating the row of cells.

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