Keeping Cambria (13 page)

Because werewolves and vampires couldn’t harm them, but a wisp of a female could.

Chapter Eight

Five weeks later, Cambria stood behind the bar in a BDSM club, but not in Atlanta. She was back in New Orleans. Because she was too chickenshit to deal with her roommates, she hadn’t gone to the apartment. They had problems of their own, and she couldn’t survive two other females with emotional issues. There weren’t enough tissues in the city to soak up her own tears.

She still crashed in dives in the morning and hunted at night. Just because she couldn’t save Steven didn’t mean she should stop saving others. She owed him that much.

Of course, the pay sucked. The vampires and two werewolves she’d killed had zero money on them, so she bartended in shitholes like this and then hunted after her shift. It actually made hunting easier. She was no threat to anyone when she was behind the bar. They smiled or not, but she got a good look at lots of eyes. The ones without a soul showed their emptiness in their gaze, the depths nothing but inky black.

So she would bide her time, pick out her prey and reel them in with promises of whatever they were looking for after her shift ended. Sometimes they waited for her and sometimes they picked someone else to snack on or do the nasty with.

The ones who escaped the night before would be here the night after, too much flesh for them to turn down. So she was dressed in next to nothing again with two bites on her shoulders that the nonhumans noticed but couldn’t decide what to do about it.

Just give her a quarter for every time someone sniffed her. Knowing the freaks had an exceptional sense of smell didn’t answer why some cocked a wayward brow at her. Surely she didn’t reek of the twins after all this time?

Her bites seemingly burned more every day, and she’d been unsuccessful at eradicating the twins from her dreams and waking thoughts. Every big badass who walked through the doors had her looking, secretly hoping.

Cambria was pretty sure she wouldn’t kill any of the brothers, had realized she would have done the same thing to a rabid paranormal prick. Hell’s Hunters had said the ferals couldn’t be saved, and she believed that, but it didn’t make the gaping hole where her heart used to be feel any better.

Loosing Steven had almost debilitated her, and she’d thanked God every night that her parents hadn’t seen him spiral out of control over the past years. Now her entire family was six feet under, all secrets taken with them to sleep forever under the cold, hard dirt.

The loss of the twins was almost as devastating. She felt like a ship tossed on a hurricane’s sea with no safe port in sight, and sometimes like she wandered aimlessly in a barren desert, never knowing what direction would save her.

She craved them, and most of the time she fought the addiction, which sometimes resulted in a crying jag that left her weak and broken.

Several times she’d been tempted to open her mind and reach for them, just to see if they were there, if she could contact them on some stupid psychic tractor beam that ran between here and Atlanta. Were they out fighting? Out feeding? Out fucking? Those answers would destroy her.

Even though they claimed she was their mate, which in her book implied forever, she was sure that two as powerful as they were could find another lover without even trying.

The shattering of a beer mug on the rough wooden bar pulled her back to the wretched present. Cambria forced herself not to withdraw because of the man before her. This creature was bigger than Beast and Bear. He had to be werewolf because of his bushy eyebrows and the mass of dark hair covering his arms. None of the vampires she had met had much body hair. On the other paranormal hand, werewolves tended to be furry.

“Can I help you?”

“You reek of Hell’s Hunters.”

This I’ve heard before.
“So?”

“You admit it?” His surprise was quickly replaced with a scowl.

“I admit to having sex with two who mentioned something about a stupid club.”

“They marked you.”

“These old things?” God, she sounded like they were a pair of shoes. “It was a while ago.”

“But those bites haven’t disappeared.”

“No.”
It
was a curse.
“Are they supposed to?” There was something about this guy, this situation that made her wary. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. It wasn’t a sexual undercurrent in his gaze, but she wasn’t sure if it was something sinister, either. His eyes seemed clear, no wild, savage gleam in them.

She wiped the broken glass into a trashcan and tossed the bar towel, too. Pretending she wasn’t afraid wouldn’t buy her anything, because the paranormal nose would rat her out.

“They’re mating bites.”

She shrugged. “Well, I just ignore them.”

Marla Jean, with her uncanny knack for horrible timing, sauntered up to Cambria. “Your shift’s done.”

The werewolf in front of her grinned. Damn, he was too big for her to kill; no fucking way could she finish him. She doubted one swing of her sword would decapitate him no matter how hard she tried, and she didn’t think he’d stand still for a second hack.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Thanks, but I’ll hang around here for a while.”
No way in fucking hell am I leaving with you.

Marla arched a brow, but turned and walked away.

“You’re afraid.”

“Sure I am. You’re too big…”
for me to kill.

“I don’t bite.”

“Sure you do.”
But not me.

“You don’t know what I am.”

“Don’t want to know, either.” She remained behind the bar, not that the slab of wood would protect her. He could probably rip it from the floor as if it were a toothpick.

“Sassy thing, aren’t you?”

You have no idea.
“No.” All her senses were screaming
run
.

“See you around.” The monster turned and wove through the crowd, which cut him a wide berth. He was heads taller than the rest of them, so tracking him to the restrooms wasn’t a problem.

Cambria wasted no time in snatching her jacket and backpack from under the counter. Distance seemed like the best option at this point. She slipped on her coat, noted the hefty weight of her sword tapping against her side, and hoped she wouldn’t need it. The beast had shown too much interest in her bites and Hell’s Hunters. The last thing she needed was to tangle with some para-yahoo looking for revenge.

With every step toward the back door, the air grew thicker with her fear. She tried to resign herself to the fact that something was about to happen, and she wouldn’t survive. Heart-stopping sadness quickly replaced her fear. Viper and Venom’s faces swam in her unshed tears. Her subconscious bitch whispered she shouldn’t throw away happiness because of hurtful words she’d slung at them when her heart had shattered over Steven.

No regrets.

That was the mantra she repeated as she shoved open the exit door.

When the knife slashed through her thigh again, she couldn’t keep the scream from erupting. No amount of willpower could halt the visceral sound from escaping and echoing in the dark barn. Her ripped shirt was dripping wet with sweat and blood.

She was in a place that reminded her of Steven and where he’d met his demise.

But Steven had played the opposite role, the one doing the torturing. Did he smile like this crazed maniac? Did he enjoy hearing his captives scream?

“Come on, you whore. Call your mates.”

“I don’t have their number, and we didn’t part on the best of terms.”

“Now, that’s the first truth you told.”

She had tried to lie, but the lie has a scent and this werewolf had been all over it. Now she thought about how ugly and twisted he was on the inside. “You’re ugly.”

The werewolf sniffed and then threw back his head and laughed. “You actually believe that shit.”

“Yep.”

He held the knife in front of her. It was enormous, and she knew it could sever her leg clean off if he wanted it to. “You’re a pathetic human. You can’t take much more blood loss.”

“Just cut me down and hand me my sword. Fight like a man instead of the dickwad bastard that you are.”

Pain exploded as her head snapped back. That actually hurt more than the slices to her flesh. No way would she give him the twins. There were twenty or so werewolves in this barn, some she knew were rabid, and the self-elected leader was the only one who stood between her and them. And it was a matter of time before he gave up and turned his gang of rape-hungry slayers loose on her. Several men were stoking their erections through their jeans. Thank God for cotton.

As she hung like a hog strung up for slaughter, she acknowledged that her twins didn’t deserve to die saving her. She was a lost cause, probably wouldn’t live through the night. But Viper and Venom were stronger than she was, would continue ridding the world of vermin like the ones filling this barn.

Besides, she wasn’t even sure they would respond if she called. She had threatened to send the next Hell’s Hunter she saw to hell. It was only with good luck that she’d ditched either Jury or Judge at the bus station. She’d picked out a woman who resembled her and followed her into the restroom. With some pleading words and stories of abuse by a psychotic husband, she’d been able to convince the woman to swap coats with her. Her sword had been barely contained in the short blazer the woman had, but she wasn’t giving up her weapon.

When the woman walked out and hung a right, Cambria counted to five, walked out, and turned left.

Leaving the bus station, she had headed straight for the train depot. And now, here she was, hanging in a barn surrounded by things that wanted to fuck her and use her for bait. At least none of them wanted to tap a vein.

“If you call them to you, I swear I’ll cut you down and let you walk.”

“Do you think I was born yesterday? I don’t trust you as far as I could pick you up and toss you. I know I’ll never survive this, so I won’t bring anyone else here for you to kill too.” If these were vampires, she’d wait until the sun rose to call the twins just to rid the world of these abominations. But these were werewolves, and the rising sun wouldn’t help her.

“And what about the Hell’s Hunter bastard you’re carrying?”

What? That was impossible.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re pregnant, you slut.”

“I’m betting that I’m not. I was on the pill when we…fucked. So I can’t be pregnant.”

“Then it’s someone else’s bastard you’re baking.” He took the knife, placed the sharp point just below her navel. “I can hear its pathetic heart beat.”

“Go to hell.” Cambria felt a chill spread over her, mind jumbled with calendars and counting. How far along before a fetus had a heartbeat?

She had missed her period, but that wasn’t unusual, especially since she was an emotional mess. And even if there was a child, she knew her body could flush it at any time, and considering how much blood she’d lost from her wounds, the odds of that were high.

“Could it be someone else’s?”

She nodded. Her “of course” came out as a mere squeak.

He purposely sniffed again. “I thought so.”

Her mind tumbled with ways to change the subject and give her time to think. “Why do you want Hell’s Hunters?”

His gaze turned furious as he shoved his shaggy brows together. “They’ve killed several of my pack that they claimed were feral.” He spread his arms out and spun. “Do they look feral to you?”

“Yes. Some of them are.”

He drew back to backhand her, and she turned her head, braced for impact. When the blow didn’t come, she forced her swollen eyes open.

“You know, I think I’ll keep you. I hope it’s a girl, and when she gets old enough, I’ll fuck her brains out daily, right in front of you. She’ll be my pet. If you deliver a boy, I’ll cut his throat with his mom’s steel before he takes his first breath. And in the meantime, you and I will have fun. Get me the first aid kit and a hot blade. We’re gonna seal those wounds.”

Several men scrambled to do his bidding, and her belly clenched. “Just kill me.”

“Nope. That would be too easy.”

Holy hell. Indecision wasn’t something she’d ever had to deal with before. Her life had always been black and white, right and wrong, easy to decide. How could she possibly save this bean growing inside her? If there even was one? She was still undecided, but one thing was for sure, she’d kill her child herself before she’d let this bastard harm it.

Part of her said he was lying, trying to force her to call Hell’s Hunters. He was desperate, but so was she. Two men came up behind him, and when the sound of a blowtorch fired up, she decided she didn’t care and prayed to die quickly before she had to figure out the truth.

* * * * *

Viper and all his brothers stood in the woods outside a dilapidated barn that threatened to collapse with the next gentle breeze. His skin crawled with desperation.

Hell’s Hunters had offered a reward to thousands of werewolves and vampires all over the country to find Cambria. And when one called them about a club in New Orleans, they’d immediately traced to the establishment, only to have missed her by a few minutes.

But her fear and the bastard who had her were both strong, and they had followed both scents into the swamp. Judge had prevented them from charging in, had demanded they assess the situation, saying they couldn’t save her unless they did the smart thing.

On some level, it made sense, on another, what could be happening to her while Bear did recon made him want to retch. They had reached with their minds, knew the barn was full of men. Their noses told them Cambria was there, her fear and her blood drifting on the night wind.

When Bear materialized, Viper couldn’t decide whether to hold his breath or sigh with relief.

“There are twenty or so, not a problem to eliminate. I suggest just materializing with our swords and chop the hell out of them.”

“What about Cambria?” asked Venom.