Taken By The Others. Jess Haines
I slowly pulled away from his touch, some of my anger cooling at his explanation. Despite his logic, I wasn’t sure how much I believed him. I was sure he was saying he cared about me because he was trying to save his own ass and saw me as a means of protecting him. After all, I’d done it before.
“There has to be another way. Whatever that option is, I’m going to find it.”
He let his hands drop to his sides, sliding them into the pockets of his slacks before leaning casually against the door frame. There was something about the look in his eyes I didn’t like. A winsome smile curved his lips, one that would’ve been warm and inviting if not for the hint of extended fang that was all too visible. “You could always let me turn you. He’d likely lose interest if I did.”
I immediately regretted having moved so far from my gun, stiffening and taking a few swift steps away from him until my back hit the wall. His gaze darkened, becoming all too predatory as he pushed off the door frame, closing in. Panic threaded through me, though I was clearheaded enough to wonder what brought this sudden hunger to the forefront. Particularly after he’d been taking such pains to be so carefully polite and cordial earlier; he only used this tactic with me when he saw no other way to force me to agree to something.
Before I could run, he reached out until his hands were pressed against the wall on either side of me, effectively trapping me between his arms. In return, I let out an involuntary squeak of fear, wondering how the hell this had turned so bad so fast. Maybe he just wanted to make a point again. Maybe he was pushing my buttons because he knew this would terrify me. Oh, God, please let him be trying to scare me and not really do anything to me.
I braced myself against the wall and put my hands against his chest, trying to push him back as he leaned toward me. I might as well have been trying to move a boulder.
He stopped of his own accord and stared down at me for a moment. His chest felt solid and cool, only the material of his shirt shifting under my hands. There was no sense of life to him, no heartbeat or shifting muscle or rise and fall of his chest to breathe. This close to me, I smelled mint and copper and, underneath that, the cool, musty, neck-ruffling scent of vampire.
I tried to find the words to speak, to tell him to stop, but all I could manage was a feeble cry when he took hold of my wrists, pulling my hands off his chest and pressing them to the wall. He said nothing, simply studied me while that gibbering terror romping through my mind didn’t want to acknowledge that he hadn’t hurt me yet. It only wanted to focus on the fact that I was pinned, he looked ravenous, I was the only human in sight, and his fangs were literally inches away from some all too vulnerable parts of my body. Places where the blood runs hot and fast and close to the surface of the skin.
Why was he doing this? What did he want from me? Panic clawed at my throat, and as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the side of my neck, I found my voice again, letting loose with a shriek as I twisted away. He was going to bite me! This couldn’t be happening!
“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. He didn’t touch me save for the velvet soft brush of his lips against my skin, followed by the brief rake of fangs. Hinting at penetration, but never quite sinking in. It was enough to drag a little cry from my lips, too breathy to properly be called a scream. I thought I might just die of fright right then, closing my eyes and trying to remember how to breathe as my heart tried to pound its way out of my chest. “You could stay young and beautiful and strong forever. With me. Think about it.”
With that, he was suddenly gone.
I stumbled away from the wall, making a hectic dash for my gun. The rational part of me knew he was long gone, that he’d used that uncanny speed of his to leave this place, but the rest of my frazzled brain was screaming to get the hell away from there as fast as I could. I grabbed up the reassuringly heavy hunk of metal, aiming for the open doorway in case he decided to come back. It took quite a bit of effort, but I eventually talked myself into getting close enough to the door to slam it shut.
Once it was closed, I locked it and turned around to lean against it, shaking. He was gone. I was safe. He wouldn’t touch me. Couldn’t, not even if he’d crossed the threshold of my door. The barrier would keep him out, I hadn’t keyed him to it, only given him a one-time pass. He could not touch me. He’d done all of this to scare me, that was all.
I closed my eyes and took deep, panting breaths as I tried to remind myself that hyperventilating wouldn’t solve anything. Jesus H. Christ on a stick, I’d never come that close to being vamp chow before. It was one thing to face Royce in open battle, knowing we were going to kill each other if we could. Quite another to have him go from friendly and cordial to I’m-about-to-eat-your-face-pass-the-salt-please.
Fuck. I should’ve known better than to trust a vamp. I never should’ve called him. I never should’ve invited him into my home. Never, ever should have let my guard down.
Right at that moment, I wished more than anything that Chaz was with me so I could hide in the protection of his arms. His strength and courage were unquestionably greater than mine. He never hesitated in his loyalty or when he felt it was his duty to protect me. I’d feel safe for a while if he were here.
Besides, it was two weeks ‘til the next full moon, so I wouldn’t have any worries of him accidentally going furry on me. Not that it was that big of a deal when he did. As scary as he looked when shifted, as man or wolf, Chaz was nothing but a big teddy bear. Okay, a big teddy bear with fangs and claws that also happened to be strong enough to tear me in two, but unlike Royce, he’d never done anything to overtly threaten me with his nature as an Other.
My hand crept up to my throat, shaking fingers checking for any signs of blood or cuts. Nothing. He hadn’t actually bitten or scratched me. Still, I’d felt his fangs on my skin. Not just anywhere but on my neck.
I couldn’t imagine the level of self-control it must have taken for him to keep from carrying through and biting me. From what I’d heard, when it came to drinking blood, vampires were as driven by their instincts to feed as shifted Weres who were threatened in their own territory while under the influence of the full moon. Maybe even more than that. Then again, all I knew about that was what the tabloids told me, and they also said that shifted Weres ate babies and were nothing but slavering animals 24-7. Considering what I knew about Weres from my experiences with Chaz and the rest of the wolves from the Moonwalker and Sunstriker tribes, they were probably wrong about vamps, too. Still, I couldn’t be totally sure.
Okay. Maybe Royce wasn’t completely driven by a desire to feed every hour of the day. He caught me off guard, had me pinned without a weapon and easy access to my throat. So why didn’t he go through with it? Thanks to the contract, I couldn’t slap a suit on him or go whining to the cops. He wouldn’t have to suffer any consequences for his actions other than my wrath (hah!). Did he want me cooperative while he sucked the life out of me or something? Not a chance of that.
He must have been trying to manipulate me somehow. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Was he trying to bully me into seeing him as the better alternative over Max Carlyle?
That had to be it. Why he wanted me was a mystery I wasn’t going to dig into. Whatever it was, something had to be done about this. I didn’t have the first clue how to find Max, but I did know how to find Jack the White Hat.
There was an alternative to going along with the vampires’ machinations. The White Hats despise all things with fur and fangs. Though I didn’t agree with their credo or methods, their membership included a bunch of crazies who were insane enough to hunt down and kill vampires, Weres, and the occasional mage. Since Jack was all too keen to have me join Psychos “R” Us, maybe I could use that to get him to help me do something about Max and Royce. Becoming a White Hat wasn’t on my “Top Ten Things to Do Before I Die” list, but maybe if I agreed to help them now and again, they’d return the favor.
Despite my decision, I now had a new problem. I didn’t have a phone number for Jack, so I’d have to go see him in person. The trouble with going to see Jack (completely aside from his tendency to wave