Brodan acted as if he hadnt noticed. He was also incredibly kind. And she was a great fool for not giving herself to him ages ago when hed made it clear he wanted to be more than friends.
Weve known each other for how long, Pets? he said, his voice low and masculine but gentle.
Petra forced a bleak smile. Forever.
And youve always trusted me.
Of course. What are you asking?
I want to try something. He left her side and dug into his medical bag, which was propped up against some books on her dresser. When he returned he was holding up a bag of blood.
Petra cringed, her insides recoiling, panic rushing through her. Ive tried drinking blood. I cant make myself swallow it. And what I do manage to force down comes right back up.
I know. He gestured for Wen and Celestine to hold the bag and tubing. I want to try putting it directly into your vein.
Oh, Celestine exclaimed. That could work.
Yes, indeed, Wen agreed.
Hope flared inside Petra, and she quickly pulled up the sleeve of her shirt. There was nothing she wanted more than to shut off these overwhelming feelings racing through her, controlling her. Whose is it? she asked him.
A combination of donors. He swabbed the inside of her wrist with a square of wet cotton. I want to see if you have a reaction to this first. If you do, well give you the blood of each donor separately until we find a match.
And if theres no match? She hated to ask the question, but couldnt stop herself.
Brodan gave her an encouraging smile. Lets not go there yet, okay?
She nodded, her breath hitching in her lungs. Please let this work. Please.
With skilled fingers, Brodan quickly inserted the needle into the soft skin of her wrist, then followed up with a tiny plastic tube into her vein.
She bit her lip. Not from the pain. There was barely any. Whatever little pinch occurred on her wrist was drowned out by another onslaught of emotion. Tears scratched at her throat and she gritted her teeth against them and silently screamed. She was so fucking sick of tears! She was not this weak . . . But even with the effort, the admonishment, the salty bastards still came. Bubbling up. Blinding her. Escaping. Sliding down her cheeks.
In the moist blur, Petra saw Celestine, a cloth in her hand. The older veana leaned down and dabbed at Petras tears, while Wen whispered soothingly, It will be all right, my Pets.
Did I hurt you? Brodan asked, his warm hand on her arm, his tone heavy with concern.
No. Petra shook her head, blinking to get rid of the new tears forming in her eyes. No pain, just fear. Im scared, Brodan. I feel so completely out of control. This balas . . . She turned her head away and cried softly for a second or two. Im already a terrible mother and the child hasnt even been born yet.
Thats bullshit.
The new, though familiar, voice made Petra turn. Behind Brodan, standing in the doorway wearing only jeans and matching severe expressions, were her brothers. Big, tough, blond lion shifters, Sasha and Valentin had always been her closest allies and her biggest supporters. They made her laugh and protected her. She was so grateful to themand she couldnt wait to see them as uncles to her child.
If this blood thing Brodans cooking up doesnt work, weve got another plan, Sasha told her, a slight sneer on his full mouth.
Damn right, Valentin agreed with a punch of feline ferocity. We love you too much to see this continue.
This plan of yours is to be our last resort only, boys, Wen said in her strongest maternal tone.
Yeah, yeah, Val said.
I dont want that piece of shit male here, Brodan said tightly, watching the blood move through the tube toward Petras waiting vein.
None of us do, Sasha said with true venom.
Valentin growled. But you know as well as we do that were going to have to take some drastic measures if this doesnt work.
What are you talking about? Petra asked, her insides growing cold with confusion and worry as she gripped the edge of the mattress with her free hand. What drastic measures? She looked at each male in turn.
Wen turned back to Petra and put her hands on her daughters shoulders. Just a backup plan, my Pets.
Inside Petra, anxiety mixed with confusion and a lack of control for one seriously potent cocktail. For what? she demanded, looking from her brothers to her mother.
Shit, Brodan said gravely. For this. His gaze met Petras. Your vein just closed up. It wont even allow the blood inside.
Celestine cursed, and Wen squeezed Petras shoulders.
Brodan stripped off his gloves, then glanced over and nodded at Sasha and Val. Do it.
Do what? Petra cried out, trying to sit up.
But her mother held her down, whispering words of love, while her brothers released terrifying twin growls and rushed out of the room.
* * *
The partys over.
Or was it just beginning?
Synjon took off his shirt and draped it over the black leather piano bench. He loved to fuck, needed the release to keep his muscles content, and though he didnt allow anyone to touch him, undress him, or speak to him, he made sure that the females who spread their legs and bent over the polished black surface of his Bösendorfer came in ways, durations, and decibel levels theyd never known existed.
Are we going to your bedroom or what?
The female who had spoken out of turn, the female hed chosen for tonight, stood near the glass doors that the Roman brothers had walked through only a few hours ago. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she had one hip cocked in an Im-the-bloody-shit kind of way. Her small, strong body was encased in a simple black minidress that paired well with her short blond hair, nose ring, and dark eyes. Blond hair and dark eyes. It had become his routine shag. For some reason, his body refused to take any female who sported the combination of dark hair and blue eyes.
It was bloody irritating.
He gestured for her to approach him. Come, female.
She didnt move. A little premature, dont you think?
His nostrils flared. Perhaps hed chosen wrong with this one. Perhaps he needed to fill her mouth with something.
I want to see where you sleep, she said, her tone close to defiant as she started walking toward him.
I dont sleep. And no one enters my bedroom. Or my bed. It was sacred space. As was the room that lay beyond. The one hed constructed for a very special, long-term guest he hoped would be arriving soon.
Turn around and put your hands on the piano, he commanded.
Her eyes flashed and her nostrils flared as she drew nearer. So you dont have to look at me? Is that it?
With every look, every word she uttered, this female was growing more tiresome. In fact, Syn was wondering why hed chosen her in the first place. With all the willing and wet hopefuls, why had he gone for curt and derisive? Both were heavy with emotional undertonesand he didnt do emotions. Only physical, animallike need. Hot, hard, release-filled fucking.
He regarded her with a lift of one dark brow. Your choice, female. And its a very simple one. The piano or the door.
Her mouth twitched. Youre really somethingyou know that?
He glared at her. Was that humor in her expression? He didnt think so. In fact, he was starting to believe this encounter was a grand mistake. He cocked his head. Ill walk you out. My drivers downstairs. Hell make sure you get home without a problem.
I dont need a driver, asshole. She grinned wide. Ive got wings.
Before Synjon could draw his next breath, two males rushed him from opposite sides of the room. Growling and snarling, they bodychecked him so bloody hard he lost his vision for a few seconds. What the hell . . . ?
Widening his stance, he shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He was a natural fighter and a seasoned killer, but over the past week, ever since Cruen had bled his emotions, his instincts had been slightly off. He was slower to react. And it showed now.
I want to kill him, he heard the female say.
We cant, said one of the males.
No, said the other. But we could hurt him a little.
Even without full use of his sight, Synjon felt the steady heat come up behind him. He whirled around and shoved his elbow into the neck of one of the males, followed by a fierce head butt to the face. He heard a whoosh of air, and the males bloodscent rushed into his nostrils. Familiar. Not vampire.
But whether enemy or estranged ally he wasnt sure.
Someone grabbed his arms, pinned them behind his back. Syn growled and slammed his head back, meeting flesh and bone.
Fuck! cried one of the males.
Dont let go! yelled another.
Cuffs were snapped around Syns wrists and he was hit from behind by something hard, maybe metal. Not once, but twice. Then something smacked into his skull, and his vision went gray. He went down, knees, belly, head. Again he shook his head, willed his eyes to open and focus. His vision returned just as he was flipped over onto his back. He was about to shoot to his feet when one dirty, black boot clamped down on his windpipe while the other slammed him mercilessly in the groin.
Stars glittered on his retinas as one of the males loomed over him and uttered tersely, Do you remember us, vampire?
Cats, Syn hissed through gritted teeth. Fucking pussycats.
Thats right. Val and I are taking you back to where it all began. He pressed harder on Syns throat. Youre going to feed our sister.
No air was getting through. He fought to keep his eyes open, his brain functioning.
And your cub.
The glass door opened and Synjon felt a blast of cold air move over him. Weight lifted off his airway, and he was shoved to his feet.
Ready to go for a ride, asshole? the female said, moving out onto the terrace.
Not interested anymore, love, Synjon rasped. Not sure if I ever was.
Suddenly Synjon dropped down, and in a series of quick, powerful moves, he sent his foot into the gut of one male and his knee into the other.
The pussy brothers were bloody well kidding themselves. Even with the fucked-up vision and the slow reaction time, he wasnt going anywhere. He had a very important guest arriving soon. A guest who would beg him for mercy, and a quick death before he baked slowly in the sun.
A needle slammed into his neck then, cutting off all thought, all fantasy. Instantly, the room started spinning. Bloody bastards . . . Synjon braced for a fall, forced his fangs down and a growl from his throat.
The female on the terrace sneered at him. I cant believe she wasted her time on you.
Seconds before Synjon blacked out, he saw the blond female leap from the ledge of his penthouse balcony and shift into a glorious, massive, and highly pissed-off hawk.
3
With the sun warm on her skin, Petra circled the tree, then raced toward the stream. Thank the gods for her mothers suggestion to get some air, some exercise. It was how pregnant shifter females brought on their labor. Hours of sprinting through the Rain Forest. Granted, Petra was no shifter and she wasnt trying to bring on labor, but the running did something for her. Something miraculous. It released some of the intense and debilitating emotion that had been holding her hostage for a week.
When she reached the stream, she leaped to the other side and continued along the waters edge. As she ran, she spotted creatures moving, courting, and mating under the surface of the shallow water. It was a sight shed grown up with and was used to. A sight that meant a new year approached. New beginnings . . . new life.
Ever since shed woken up to the understanding that she lived in a rain forest with an entire species of shape-shifters, Petra had wanted to be like them. Shed been somewhere around ten years old when shed realized she wasnt. Even the young who hadnt shifted yet could run like the wind and scent prey. It hadnt made her feel like an outcast exactly, but like she was missing something amazing.
And then, just seven months ago, everything had changed. When he came. He came and made her feel understood, not like a freak. He unleashed the truth, showed her what she was capable of if she embraced it, trained itfed it.
Her fanged nature.
And in some odd way, embracing her vampire had made her feel closer to her family, as though she had more in common with the shifters than she had ever thought possible.
Breaking into a sprint, she passed a bear shifter who was trying to climb a tree and get to a nest tucked into one of the branches. It growled playfully at her, then returned to its task. Petra found that the faster she moved, the less pain she experienced. It was as if the overwhelming feelings didnt have time to fully fuse to her insides.
And the balas liked it.
She wasnt sure how, but she could sense it. And moving so quickly provided one of only a handful of times when shed been able to connect with the little life growing inside her. If she could just give it nourishment now . . .
If she could just give it blood.
Bile rose in her throat as she picked up speed, leaving the stream behind and taking off across the flat land toward her lion shifter familys sprawling one-story compound. Somehow she would find a way to protect her balas, feed her balas, give her balas the loving and proper family it deserved.
Even if she had to spend the remainder of her swell running.
Just a foot over the property line, she nearly collided with a massive blond male.
Damn it, Val, she said, jerking to a halt. You couldve hurt the baby.
The blond male with shoulders as wide as the doorframe of their family house backed up a foot just to show he wasnt in her space. His dark eyes moved over her curiously, concerned. Youre sweating. Breathing heavy. What are you doing?