Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (50 page)

Though not fully recovered, he was ravenous. He prowled, hunting for a human woman to ease the cramping in his guts. A sharp pain lanced through him and he growled as if he might threaten it into submission.

He kept to the shadows, hugging the walls of the buildings he passed. Wanting nothing to do with the well-traveled entertainment district, he slipped into an alley, passed through, crossed the street, and took another alley.

The hair at the back of his neck lifted and he stopped. Someone was following him, stalking him.

“Hold it right there, you son of a bitch,” a voice said from behind him.

Christopher froze. He’d never been caught off guard before. His heart banged against his ribs.
Shit
. He wasn’t afraid of a stinking human. He whirled around.

Something slammed into his shoulder. For a second, he stared dumfounded at the dart protruding from his body. A second dart pinned him. Four men in olive uniforms stood behind him. He spun and fled. Another dart hit him in the back.

Christopher ran to the mouth of the alley, darted across the street and blazed down the sidewalk, shoving humans out of his way as he ran. But by the time he reached the end of the block, his head swam and his legs had taken on a rubbery feeling.

“Fuck.” They’d tranqed him with enough drugs to take down a Percheron.

His legs shook. He was going to go down and if he didn’t hide, they would have him. He couldn’t lose his wits to the panic biting at him with little razor teeth. If he stayed cool enough to think straight, he would get away. Of that, he was certain. No human had ever whipped him and he’d be damned if these Nazi’s would be the first.

His right leg buckled and he went down hard on the sidewalk ripping skin from his outstretched hands and his knees. He rolled and curled on his side.

Within moments, the men caught up and approached slowly.

Christopher hissed.

“Shut up, you murdering fuck,” the lead man said.

Christopher growled, low and threatening.

The officer kicked him in the head and stars exploded before him as pain ricocheted through his skull. He lunged, but didn’t make it off the concrete. Numbness spread through his limbs as the drugs took a deeper hold on him.

A red-haired man consulted a wanted poster and said, “That’s him all right. That fucker’s worth some bucks.”

The one who’d kicked him leaned down and grabbed a fistful of his hair. He yanked Christopher’s head up. “You killed Mr. Banks’ son. I’d hate to be in your shoes when Banks gets his hands on you.” He released Christopher’s hair and laughed. “I’m sure Banks will want a little alone time with your mangy ass before they send you to the execution chamber.

“Fuck you. And Banks.”

“Yeah, you talk big shit now. You’ll be talking out the other side of your ass by tomorrow night,” the officer said. “Anderson, get the shackles. We aren’t taking any chances with this bastard. He was a Wolf.”

Anderson trotted back to the van and returned a moment later with the restraints. He clapped huge iron cuffs around Christopher’s wrists. Heavy chain connected the cuffs and, as strong as he was, he might not be able to break the links. Panic took a little deeper hold.

Breathe, damn it
.

He wasn’t going down, no matter what he had to do. These were only Security Center goons, not the death squad fuckers. He could do this. All he had to do was
settle down
.

Two officers grabbed him and lifted him from the sidewalk. His head lolled on his neck and he had a sickening, upside-down view of the street behind him. His stomach lurched and he vomited. He choked on the foul matter.

“Put ‘im down before he chokes to death,” Anderson said.

“What do you care?” the man holding Christopher’s wrists said.

“Do you want to deprive Banks of his fun?”

They lowered him to the sidewalk and rolled him onto his side where he retched miserably. “Fuckers,” he said when he was able to speak.

“Shut the hell up, you piece of shit.” Anderson kicked him in the side.

Christopher refused to acknowledge the pain.

The men picked him up again and carried him to the van.

Chapter Fifty

SARANNA SAT up and waited to see if she would have to throw up. She caressed her belly and imagined the tiny being inside her. Hopefully, he would look like Julian. Pain jabbed her chest.

Julian cared about her and took good care of her. But he was never going to love her. How was she to continue feeding from him when it tore her heart out? How could she stay there and see him every night?

Maybe she should go back to Mick to feed. He would take care of her, even with someone else’s baby in her womb. But he would want and expect sex. She’d given him her virginity, she’d gone to him for comfort after Cerin’s betrayal, and she’d given herself to him when he needed comfort. But she had a mate now. She loved Julian and wouldn’t wrong him.

And she was half afraid Julian would kill Mick.

She belonged to Julian and she had no right to feed from another or deprive Julian of his child.

When her stomach settled, she went into the bathroom and showered. Her mid-section was still flat. The baby wouldn’t make his presence known to the world for another two months or so.

Though she cringed at the idea of letting Jason examine her in such an intimate way, she had to make sure everything was all right. And she might as well get it over with. After all, he would have to deliver the baby when the time came.

She grabbed her purse and jacket and glided down the staircase. Vali sat on the sofa watching cartoons. She gave him a little wave.

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk.” She headed out before he had the chance to ask more questions.

She walked mostly unnoticed past shops and apartment buildings. A few male vampires looked at her as if they were sizing up their chances. She ducked her head, avoiding eye contact.

By the time she’d traveled half the distance to Jason’s, she needed to rest. A month along and the baby was already draining her energy. God, what would it be like when she was ready to give birth in another eleven months?

She spied a bus stop bench and hurried toward it. She needed a few minutes to rest. Sighing with relief, she eased down on the wooden slats.

She ran her finger over a carving of a heart with the name Anna cut in the center, a young man’s testament of love to his girl. She clenched her hands. This was not the place to fall apart.

The tread of uneven footsteps drew her attention from the carving. A man weaved toward her. His clothes, a mishmash of frayed, dirty fabrics and colors, identified him as one of the homeless, potentially mentally ill street denizens.

The scent of wine and sweat assaulted her while he was still feet away. He grinned, displaying stained teeth between vacant gaps where others had gone AWOL. His glazed eyes slithered over her. Icy prickles covered her skin. She hoped he would shuffle on his way and leave her alone.

He didn’t. He maneuvered straight toward her. “Hey girlie, I got somethin’ for ya.” He groped at his pants.

She rose from the bench. Disgust clenched her stomach and not wanting trouble, she hurried on.

She wished she was at Jason’s, so she could get the embarrassing visit over with and be on her way home. Maybe she would call Ashton and ask him to pick her up afterwards.

She hurried along, ticking off the blocks.

A feeling of being watched crept over her. The little hairs on her arms lifted. She glanced around.

The bum from the bus stop was behind her.

“What—”

He swung a paper bag at her head with surprising speed. It struck her temple. Pain exploded through her head. He’s struck her with a glass bottle camoed inside the bag. He cackled laughter.

Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the pavement.

“Hey, get your nasty ass away from her.”

She didn’t know who was intervening, but she was thankful someone had diverted the man who’d hit her. Still not coherent, she rubbed her temple. The warm stickiness of blood wet her fingers.

Boots thundered down the sidewalk.

She focused on her rescuers and went utterly cold.

Security Center officers pounded toward her.

In moments, they surrounded her.

“Miss? Miss? Are you okay? Call an ambulance, Tom. She’s hurt.”

“No ambulance.” She did her best to keep her teeth hidden.

“Sheeit, she ain’t no helpless woman.”

She moaned and drew herself into a ball. Her head was splitting, but that was the least of her problems.

“She’s a vampire,” the first speaker said. “Get the van down here.”

“Please. Let me go.”

“Don’t think so, honey.” He radioed for the van.

Terror locked around her and her eyes darted between the men.

A moment later, a van pulled up to the curb and two more men got out.

“Please let me go,” she whimpered.

“We aren’t gonna hurt you. We’re taking you in for standard processing then you can go. Unless you’ve got a little rat in the oven. Then you’ll be given an abortion first.”

She shrank back.

“Are you pregnant?” The officer eyed her with suspicion.

She didn’t say anything.

“I think she’s knocked-up.”

Another man snickered.

“I’m not pregnant.”

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.”

“Please let me go. Please, mister.” She looked at the first one who’d spoken to her, hoping for mercy. “Please. I’m begging you.” Tears leaked down her cheeks.

“Can’t do that.”

Two men grasped her wrists and ankles to scoop her up while another opened the van doors.

She struggled hard and broke her right arm free.

One of the men pulled out a control device. “Cool it, bitch, unless you want a good jolt.”

She stilled, thinking of the baby inside her.

“Please,” she moaned.

The men carried her to the van and stuffed her into a cage. He snapped the lock closed and shut the back doors. Total darkness enveloped her.

A strangled cry tore out of her. “Julian,” she screamed, even though he couldn’t hear her. She grasped the jasper at her throat and shrieked his name again.

JULIAN’S EYES shot open, ripping him from a nightmare of pain and torture, and he knew two things instantly. He’d overslept and something was wrong.

He launched out of bed and yanked on the clothes he’d had on the night before. A hard knot of fear twisted his stomach. Something was wrong… With Saranna.

He raced from the bedroom and accosted Vali. “Have you seen Saranna?”

“Left about an hour ago. Said she was going out. Is something wrong?” Vali sat up on the sofa, alarm plastered on his face.

Without answering, Julian bolted out the door, not bothering to shut it behind him. Cold drops of rain slashed down, stinging his face, though it barely registered in his panicked mind. He caught the faintest trace of her scent on the wet, chilled air.

He drew her essence in, following it with animal senses. His feet flew over the concrete, until little by little, he lost the scent. He stood on the sidewalk, heart pounding. He’d lost all trace of her. He paced back and forth, testing the damp air for her scent.

One of two things might have happened. Either the traders had her or officers had caught her. Fighting down panic, he shoved his wet hair back from his face and twisted his fingers into the long dripping strands.

He couldn’t go off half-cocked and fuck up. He wheeled around and raced back to the house. Slamming the door behind him, panting for breath, he demanded, “Where are Ashton and Slade?”

“Got called into a Resistance meeting. Mandatory shit. What the hell’s wrong?”

“Saranna, she’s in trouble. I’m going after her.”

“What—”

He strode into Ashton’s room and yanked open the double closet doors. He snatched the backpack and opened one of a dozen stacked boxes. He grabbed three large bundles of explosives and put them in the pack.

Next, he went to a spare dresser and selected two Berettas from the top drawer. He shoved extra clips in his jacket pockets and slung the pack on his back.

“What are you doing?” Vali asked from behind him.

“Going after my mate. Tell the others if they get home before we do.”

“But where is she?”

“I don’t know yet. Either the traders or the Security Center bastards caught her. I’m going to the warehouse first.” Without waiting for a reply, he hurried past the younger vampire.

Once outside, he bolted, running full out until his lungs and throat burned with every breath. After an eternity, the warehouse came into view. He skidded to a stop, afraid of what might have happened to her and the baby already.

Wanting to race blindly ahead, he forced himself to walk up to one of the windows. Inside the building, two cages contained young males. They were doomed and they probably knew it.

His hands curled into fists.

He sprang away. She had to be at the Security Center. And if they treated her like they had him, God help her.

Spurred to run faster, his feet pounded over wet sidewalks and pavement until his heart trip-hammered and nausea churned his stomach. He had to slow and catch his breath.

Soaked to the bone and shivering though his internal temperature had skyrocketed from exertion, he walked head down, panting.

Shit, he wished he had brought his cell phone. He didn’t even have any change in his pocket to make a call at a pay phone, assuming he found one. The Security Center was a long way off. He needed a ride in a bad way.

He walked faster. He would never get there if he had to walk, it was too damn far. Maybe he could flag down a taxi and stiff the guy when he got there. Except there wasn’t a taxi in sight.

He covered three more blocks at a jog. Exhausted or not, he didn’t have time to screw around. Then he spotted salvation.

Ahead of him, parked at the curb, was a Security Center transport van. The driver sat behind the wheel with his head buried in a magazine.

Tonight, the officers would be the victims. He had to kill them, all of them, and he would have to be damn fast about it. Like wolves, they worked in packs, and if he screwed up, they would take him down.