The Warrior Vampire (14 page)

Ronan's chest constricted and he let out a sharp breath as though he'd been gut punched with a redwood. Gods, how he wanted her! Every minute spent with her was torture. Every new detail revealed a secret he wanted to covet. Ronan jumped up beside her, so close that her exotic forest scent enveloped him. His want of her was a physical thing, digging in with barbed claws that wouldn't let go.

Moonlight shone on the curling strands of Naya's dark hair, lending a midnight blue hue to the locks. Ronan reached out as though he had no control of his own hand and lightly threaded his fingers through its silky length. His cock stirred with his emerging lust and his fangs began to throb. Needing her and never getting to have her would kill him as surely as his blood troth to Siobhan would. The question was: Which one would end him first?

His own life be damned, Ronan knew that he'd go mad if he didn't take Naya's vein again. Didn't taste the sweetness of her mouth again …

Naya's body went rigid in front of him and her scent soured as her adrenaline spiked. Ronan buried his face in her wild curls and whispered close to her ear, “What is it?”

“Trouble,” she responded on a slow breath. “Up ahead. Maybe two hundred yards.”

Ronan's own anxiety tightened his muscles. What if what had gotten to him had gotten to Chelle first and that's why they hadn't found her yet? What if the very creature they were tracking was his own sister, corrupted by foreign magic? “Let me go first.” He stepped in front of Naya, tucking her close behind him.

She let out a soft snort and pulled away. “Oh no. I don't need protection, vampire.”

The hell she didn't. He'd be damned if he let her put herself in the path of danger when he was there to take the first blow. “We don't know what's out there. It's not safe for you to go charging toward an unknown like that.”

This time, the sound that escaped her lips was pure incredulity. “
You
don't know what's out there. I know exactly what we're dealing with.” She took off at a jog, leaving Ronan to trail behind. “Just do me a favor and stay out of my way. I can't be worrying about whether or not you're okay. Got it?”

Without waiting for a response, she cut to the right, using the tall pilings as cover. Her shadow darted through the darkness, a graceful ballet of motion that Ronan couldn't help but admire.

Magnificent.

He took off after her, careful to follow her path. It took all of the self-control he could muster not to charge out ahead of her, but Ronan let her take the lead while he covered her back in the event of an ambush.

The screech of metal on metal grated on Ronan's ears and Naya took off like a shot, sprinting toward the source of the sound. His heart rocketed up into his throat as he pulled the Glock Naya had loaned him and a dagger from his waistband while he chased after her, prepared to kill anything that might do her harm.

Even Chelle?

Ronan's step faltered, but he stayed his course. If Chelle had been lost to infectious magic, he'd deal with it when—and if—he had to. But beyond that, his number-one priority was the female running headlong into danger as though she risked her life on a daily basis.

Fifty yards ahead of him, ripping through sheets of steel as though it were tissue paper, was a creature straight out of a nightmare. At least eight feet tall, with talons like sickle blades and razor-sharp pointed teeth, the creature couldn't have been any less human. Or dhampir for that matter. Ronan had no idea what he was looking at, but he knew whatever it was, it wasn't looking to take a peaceful midnight stroll. Globs of fluorescent color dripped from its scaly black flesh, landing on the ground with a splatter as it cut a swath of destruction in its wake.

One large arm swiped out at Naya, the talons flashing bone white in the moonlight. She ducked and rolled to her left, missing the blow by inches. In a beat her gun was drawn and she fired off three successive shots that whispered through the thick ocean air, quieted by the silencer. The beast's back arched with pain and it spun, its speed belying its height and bulk. Naya drew the dagger from behind her back and its canary glow was like a beacon in the foggy night as she gained her footing and charged at the creature currently trying to take her head off.

“Naya, look out!”

Gods.
She truly was going to be the death of him, wasn't she?

*   *   *

The creature Naya fought was no longer human. Hell, it was no longer anything. A manifestation of malicious magic, it was an incarnation of evil and destruction. A force of nature in and of itself. Globs of residual ethereal energy seeped from its skin, landing on the ground in great puddles of colorful light. The music deafened her. A cacophony of riotous sound that caused her brain to pound in her skull and her vision to blur. Even the air was thick with magic, sticking to her lungs as she breathed it in and as difficult to expel as pudding. She fought as much against the sensory overload as she did the creature intent on killing her. Her own magic rose up from the seat of her power, glowing like a cinder in her belly. Naya drew on it, allowed the power to fuel her as it traveled down her arm like a conduit and into the blade of her already-hungry dagger.

Don't worry. You're about to be fed
.

“Naya, look out!”

Ronan's voice snapped out like a whip. She turned toward the sound, ducking moments before the creature's giant claw swiped down at her.
Son of a bitch.
“Ungh!” The grunt left her chest as Naya swung her arm in a wide, sweeping arch. Power rippled through her as she funneled magic through the dagger and it severed the beast's hand from its wrist. The appendage turned to charred dust and evaporated before it hit the ground. She was answered with an enraged snarl as the beast turned on her, its giant maw of a mouth opened wide and ready to bite. Her breath sawed in and out of her chest as Naya brought her gun around, aiming with her left hand as she fired off three more successive shots that did nothing to slow the creature down.

Shit.

From out of nowhere Ronan launched himself at the mapinguari, taking its massive bulk down in a full-body tackle. Punches rained down as he wrestled with it, his fangs bared and eyes alight with deadly silver. Good gods, he was magnificent. A warrior, built to deliver death. Powerful teeth snapped at him and Ronan grabbed it by the jaw, wrenching its mouth open with a shout; His body trembled with the effort until the hinges gave way and the beast's jaw cracked.

“Get the hell out of here, Naya!”

The creature was disabled, but what Ronan didn't realize was that there was no way to deliver upon it a physical death. It took magic to banish magic, and the only one of them who had a chance of defeating the demon was her.

A riot of sound assaulted her ears, the notes too sharp, too flat, disjointed and chaotic. Her vision further blurred and an acidic tang burned on the back of her tongue. If she didn't banish the magic soon, it would steal her senses completely. She'd be blind, deaf, her limbs numb and useless. And she and Ronan would both be dead.

“Hold it down!” Her strength was no match for the thing they fought, but with Ronan helping her she could get the job done. Ronan faltered and the mapinguari hurled him from its body. He flew in a graceful arc, landing on his back with a groan that sent Naya's heart toppling over her ribs to the soles of her feet.

Gods damn it.

She emptied three more rounds into the creature's black, leathery skin, buying Ronan the time he needed to regroup.

His speed astounded her. His strength was unlike anything she'd ever witnessed. He was formidable, intimidating, and with every passing second Naya only wanted him more.

The creature's inky black tongue lashed out at him, lacerating his biceps. Ronan didn't so much as twitch as he pinned it to the ground. Every muscle in his body strained, the veins standing out on his forearms in stark relief. His brows drew sharply over his silver eyes and he ground out from between his gnashed teeth, “Now what?”

So entranced by the beauty of his movement, Naya shook herself from her reverie and sprang into action. The heat of the dagger warmed her palm. She straddled the creature's body and stabbed down, straight through the heart. She twisted the blade at the same moment she sent a burst of her own power through the blade. Fiery heat licked up her arm and Naya cried out, but she gritted her teeth against the pain and drove the dagger deeper, cutting through the thick muscle to the center of the heart. Naya drew back on her power, funneling the corrupted magic out of the creature and into the dagger.

The transference of power blew Naya away from the disintegrating body with the force of an explosion. She braced herself for the landing that was no doubt going to result in a broken bone or two. Maybe ten. Time seemed to slow as she squeezed her eyes shut. The impact never came. Instead of crashing hard to the ground, she was jostled as she landed in the cradle of Ronan's arms. What could have been a very painful touchdown was only going to result in a few bruises. She could see an advantage or two to keeping a vampire around.

Ronan held her close and tucked her against his chest. The dagger dropped from Naya's grasp, falling to the ground as it sizzled with residual magic on the damp sand below. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?” He buried his face in her hair as he breathed the words. A light tremor vibrated through him into her and a sense of fear washed over her.
His?
He pulled back to look at her, his eyes still bright silver. “You do that sort of thing on a daily basis?”

“No. Not like that.” Her tongue felt too thick in her mouth and the words slurred on her lips. She'd never fought anything so fully manifested by magic. And never anything so big and powerful. Whatever magic had corrupted it was beyond anything she'd ever encountered. The dagger had taken the brunt of most of the residual malicious magic, but not all of it. Her skin crawled as though insects burrowed just beneath the surface, and a sense of perverse darkness speared through her in icy cold shards that left her shaking. She clutched at Ronan's shirt, desperate for the warmth of his body as her vision darkened and the world careened around her.

“Try not to freak out,” she murmured as darkness overtook her. “But I think I'm going to pass out.”

 

CHAPTER

12

Jenner's fangs broke the skin of the female he was fucking—he was pretty sure her name was Naomi—and she let out a low, drawn-out moan. He pounded into her from behind, his jaws locked down on her throat while his eyes were locked on the second female writhing beneath her. She thrust her hips up to meet Naomi's mouth, ecstatic bliss glazing her silver-rimmed eyes.

Since his transition, his need for blood and sex had become insatiable. When he wasn't doing his king's bidding, Jenner was buried to his balls in a female. One, two … five a night. He fed more than he needed to, glutting himself to the point that his brain buzzed from the high.

“Fuck her harder, Jenner.”

The female's heated words spurred him on as he gripped Naomi's hips and drove deep. What in the hell was her name? Mari? Melissa? He had no fucking clue.…
Marissa!
Naomi buried her face between Marissa's thighs, lapping with renewed vigor. His cock swelled inside of Naomi, his need for release bordering on desperation. With a flick of his tongue he sealed the punctures on her neck, but what he'd taken from her had yet to quench the fire in his throat. His thirst was never ending. His desires unflagging. There wasn't enough blood or pussy on the planet to satisfy him and it was a state of constant need that was slowly beginning to unravel him.

“Oh, gods, yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!” Marissa threw her head back as she came. Jenner watched with fascination, taking in the sight of her quivering limbs and the points of her nipples that further hardened with each impassioned scream that tore from her throat.

Naomi rocked back, grinding her ass into his hips, and her pussy clenched his shaft. Jenner reached over her, molding his chest to her back as he fondled her swaying breasts, pinching the nipples hard as he drove as deep as he could go. Her head pulled back from between Marissa's thighs as a slow, mewling sound escaped her lips. Marissa came up on her knees and leaned over Naomi. She scored her bottom lip with a fang before she brought her mouth to his, but it wasn't enough for Jenner. He bit down, opening two more sets of punctures, and lapped at Marissa's mouth as he continued to fuck her friend.

Just a few more strokes and he'd get there.

Naomi shuddered, her body going rigid as she came. Her pussy squeezed him tight, holding on as Jenner increased his pace. The buzz in his brain reached a fevered pitch as his sac drew up against his shaft. He broke his kiss with Marissa as a shout erupted from his chest. He pulled out as he came, striping Naomi's pert ass with jet after jet as he collapsed on top of her. Waves of sensation crested over him, and Jenner shuddered as the last of his seed coated Naomi's soft skin. The myriad voices of the Collective quieted in his mind and the need that ate away at him like acid subsided, his body worked to the point of exhaustion.

Thank the gods.

The three of them tumbled to the bed in a tangle of limbs. The sun would be up in a few hours, and Jenner knew that before he went down for the day he'd need to fuck them both again as well as take their veins. His appetites had always been intense, but never like this. He'd welcomed the chance at transition. Yearned to find the feeling of completion he'd never had as a dhampir.

If he'd known that he'd be cursed with not only empty soullessness but also hungers that could never be sated Jenner might have rethought his king's generous offer.

For long, quiet moments, they lay atop the pile of blankets, hands petting, lips searching. He was spent, his limbs heavy, though his cock hadn't seemed to have gotten the memo. The bastard stood like a fucking mast, jutting lewdly from between his thighs. Naomi—or was it Marissa?—crawled down the length of his body and settled herself between his legs. Her eyes were limpid pools of silver as she took the engorged head of his erection in her mouth, sucking deeply before releasing her hold with a pop.