Better Off Red (39 page)

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bent at the waist, I looked over the edge, down the rectangular spiral.

If only jumping would get me out of my finals and not break my neck.

Sighing, I looked up and gazed out the narrow window. The map of lampposts lit a misty golden trail across campus. It was a beautiful night, a night I should have been sharing with Camila. She could have helped me study and then we could have taken a break to do something silly like play in the snow together or make love.

Greg came forward and peered over the railing next to me.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. For the first time in days, I didn’t feel someone was asking about Cleo.

“Yeah. I’m just tired. I’m so ready for this semester to be over.”

“Just four more days,” he said.

“And then we get to look forward to chem two.”

“True. At least we get a break.” Greg turned and leaned his back against the whitewashed banister. “Then three weeks of fucking, eating, and sleeping.”

“Yeah…” If Camila and I made up in those four days.

Greg was quiet for a moment. It was time for us to head back. I stayed put as he moved toward the stairs. But then he stopped.

“We have some time right now,” Greg said with an odd hint of suggestion in his voice.

“What?” I didn’t connect what he meant until his hands came down on my hips and he ground his sudden erection against my ass.

I spun around and pushed him away. “What the fuck are you doing?” His green eyes glinted there in the dark, lustful and a little bit crazed. I didn’t know Greg all that well, but I had no clue who this guy was.

“I said, we have some time right now.” He stepped forward and his clammy palms gripped the sides of my neck. I tried to jerk my head away, but his thumbs dug into my jaw. “I thought the sister-queens liked to share,” he whispered, tilting my head back so he could kiss me.

“Camila doesn’t. Stop!” I gave him another hard, useless shove. Greg was tall, sure, but a lot more solid then he looked. He

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didn’t budge. Just stepped closer, trapping my arms between us, and turned my head to lick my ear. He was hurting me now, gripping my neck too hard, holding my head at an awkward angle. I thought of the best way to hit his groin, the best way that wouldn’t get me hurt even more in the process. I jerked my knee, but the railing caught my ankle.

“What’s the big deal? Cleo didn’t mind sharing Andrew the other night,” he said, kissing the corner of my mouth, grinding his hard-on into my stomach. I gulped down the bile fighting to get out.

“Well, that’s between Cleo and Andrew. Greg! Get the fuck off me!” I shoved him again, this time putting everything I had into the weight behind my forearms, and this time he let go. But it was way too little, way too late. There were so many fucked up things about this situation, the least of which was him ignoring my no. I was furious.

I made a move to punch him right in the nuts, but he jumped out of the way and grabbed my wrist. I jerked my arm back, out of his grasp, a bad move as I stepped backward toward the stairs.

I should have been paying attention to my surroundings, but I was more concerned about getting away from my insane lab partner. My foot slipped and I let out a panicked gasp in the process.

I didn’t fall, though. I caught a fistful of Greg’s shirt and yanked myself back onto the landing. He gripped my elbows and held me steady. We stared at each other for a second, both shocked and relieved. It was that brief moment before Greg would have apologized for getting too familiar, realizing I wasn’t playing hard to get, and I would have vowed never to end up alone with him again, right after I socked him in the balls.

And in the next moment, his expression shifted. A calm passed over his brow, his dark green eyes soft and pleading just before his jaw clenched with a flash of anger. His eyes narrowed. He smiled.

And then Greg pushed me, shoved me with every ounce of strength he had, right off the top step.

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The concrete and brick flipped past me in a quick blur. I was blinded momentarily as I hit the middle step, my wrist twisting under my back. My eyes snapped shut again when I hit the next step. There was a thick crack somewhere in my arm. I bit my tongue when I bounced to the landing, my head concussing off the floor. I lay there, completely in shock, staring at the dark bricks above me. I tried to sit up. It didn’t happen. I tried to move my head to the side, but it didn’t budge. Only my eyes were working, blinking open and closed, and I could hear.

Greg was gasping. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” The muffled sound of his voice mixed with the ringing in my brain.

I wanted Camila.

“What did you do?” Camila’s terrifying growl echoed through the space.

A guttural whimper sounded somewhere above me and a flapping sound and another muffled snap. Then Camila was beside me. Her fingers brushed my forehead as she leaned over me.

“Talk to me,
querida
. Where does it hurt?” Her voice was harsh and strained and her eyes were blazing. Her fangs blocked her mouth from closing all the way. I tried to answer her, but nothing came out.

My tongue was too thick. Panic forced my mind open.

I can’t feel anything, but my head hurts
, I told her.
Help me.

She moved to cradle my head in her lap. My eyes closed as she shifted me. I felt the dull pressure of her thigh on the back of

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my head, but I couldn’t feel the warmth of her body, the warmth I always felt when she held me. She grumbled out a curse then bit into her arm.

Her blood was flowing into my mouth before I even thought to stop her. The cooling zing hit my lips, and as I swallowed, her blood started working, doing exactly what it was supposed to do, healing me, changing me. My vision cleared, bringing things into sharp color and focus in the dimly lit space. I felt the stickiness of my human tears, tears I didn’t remember crying, drying in the corners of my eyes and on the side of my face.

And then my fangs came. My canine teeth widened and grew longer. A sharp shot of pain lingered as my upper teeth inched back to make room. The gum and the bone shifted, new nerves grew and connected. They came in full and large and I didn’t hesitate to use them to get a firmer grip on Camila’s wrist. My tongue worked against her skin, massaging the vein, driving more of her blood down my throat.

Suddenly, we weren’t alone. I felt Rodrick’s inferior presence before he appeared in the stairwell.

“What has happened?” he cried.

Camila whipped around in his direction and let out a feral snarl, but she didn’t pull her wrist away. I didn’t stop drinking even though my nose was suddenly burning. I smelled human urine. Greg’s and mine.“Oh, Gregory,” Rodrick moaned. I lifted my head and stared up at the pain written across Rodrick’s face. He held Greg, dead, in his arms above us on the landing. Rodrick rocked him slowly, stroking his face affectionately even though Greg’s head was twisted at an awkward angle.

My eyes slid back to Camila’s face. She could feel the conflict inside me, the relief and the rage. I wanted to hit her, to scream in her face, but it was too late. We were bound now in a different way as more of her blood gushed down my throat. With the break in my arm healed, I reached up and touched her soft golden cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she told me, gripping my hand and kissing my fingers.

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I didn’t answer. I couldn’t trust my own response.

Her lips pressed against my forehead, and the warm, always gentle stroke of her fingers caressed my neck. “Just a little more.”

I swallowed another mouthful and I was finished. Healed.

Changed from human to demon-vampire, to sister-queen, completely.

I felt my connection to my other queens, each one of them individually and as a whole, a bond only Dalhem could break. I felt another level, another piece that made up what Camila and I were to each other. Now she was my maker, and no matter what happened between us, if I ever decided to turn my back on our relationship, something the human side of me was now all in favor of, this piece would remain. She would always be the one who created me, and I would always be hers.

I gazed up at her, watching Camila as she sealed her wrist, staring into her scorching eyes as she kissed me on my mouth, opening another chamber inside me. There was now a clear line between the part of me that was human, the love and the reasoning, and the animal with base, carnal needs. The full demon in me called to Camila, called to its mate. I tried to fight the emotions, but that draw was undeniable. The vampire in me knew no reason. It ignored the past pain. I rubbed my cheek against her face and licked the corner of her mouth.

“I’m hungry,” I said, a growl lightly affecting my voice. My body was more than ready to hunt. I sensed the hundreds of humans on the floors below. Some closer than others, but I knew I had to wait. “I know, baby. Fuck. Let me—”

“I’ll feed her.” I turned toward the rattled sound of Samantha’s voice. She stood on the stairs just below us, shaking, but determined.

The sleeves of her ABO sweatshirt were balled in her fists. She moved up one more step and relaxed her hands. I could smell her fear, but it wasn’t directed at me. “I’ll do it.” Samantha tugged her hoodie over her head. My fangs ached as she exposed the ripe vein in her neck.

“Is that okay?” Camila asked me. She had to. She was powerful enough to force me to feed, but the choice was mine. I glanced at

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Samantha again and my stomach rolled and clenched. My fangs throbbed, shooting pain through my sinuses, across my forehead. I didn’t have much time before I took her.

My eyes squeezed shut. “Please,” I begged.

Silently, Rodrick reached out to his wife.

In the next breath, Natasha appeared beside us. She bowed to me, calling me her queen. She pulled a short silver blade from a strap in her high-heeled boot and beckoned Samantha forward. Camila slid out of the way, letting me support myself. I shifted my weight and tucked my now powerful legs underneath my body, ignoring the wet patch in my jeans. Natasha and Samantha crouched in front of me.I could have stopped her. I had the control over Natasha to keep her from initiating the ritual. We looked at each other for a fraction of a moment. There was distress in her bright blue eyes, but it was coupled with pleading and forgiveness. I nodded quickly, hating myself for my weakness and need. Natasha turned to Samantha and the words flew from her lips.

“I release you, Samantha Grace Phillips. Serve this sister-queen as you would serve the master himself. As you would serve me.” The shift happened so quickly. Natasha had given Samantha to me. It would have been an insult for me to turn the offering down.

I needed to feed so badly, but I didn’t want to take Samantha away from Natasha. Not like this. But my thirst was too strong.

Sam and I looked at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. Her boyfriend was dead, and maybe at some point she might blame me, but there was no blame written on her face. And then there was the tiny issue of how much we completely loathed each other, but I was too hungry to be picky about where my first meal would come from. I frowned at her, asking the question one more time.

She grabbed my wrist and pressed the edge of the blade into her own palm.

I blurted my vow, reborn sister-queen to devoted feeder, and Samantha accepted. Our bond was made. I felt it to my core, but I found myself fighting it because it was not complete just yet, not

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until I sliced the upturned palm that was offered to me. I leaned forward and sealed the seeping gash. A sensual growl tore from my throat as I heard Sam’s breathless sob.

There was nothing that compared to the taste of human blood, the rich mix of crushed berries, flavored with an unparalleled sweetness. I’d tasted its electricity on Camila’s lips, wanted more of it because it made me want her. Now my demon body craved it, in essential ways that were impossible to explain. The connection between us made her flavor unique to me. It was spiked with her arousal and her desire to please me.

My heart was tackled by sudden, incessant need to protect Samantha and to make her feel loved and treasured. The lingering rationale in my brain recognized how ridiculous the urge was. I hated Samantha. Or at least, I used to. As the small trickle of her blood coated my throat, any negative thoughts I had about her were completely erased. She could do no wrong. I wouldn’t let her. And anyone who even thought of harming her, would have to answer to me. If anything happened to her, I would be the one to protect her.

She was mine.

My hand flashed to Samantha’s neck and I yanked her forward, shifting her body so she was nearly pinned between me and the wall. Her whimper was far from a protest, but her body’s plea for me to feed and then take her. It didn’t take much pressure for my razor sharp fangs, their nerves pulsing with my own rabid heartbeat, to pierce Samantha’s thin, soft skin. They punctured deep then retracted just enough for me to keep a hold on her, leave plenty of room for the blood to run free. God, she tasted so good.

She came in my arms, muffling her cries behind clenched teeth.

My body soaked in response, my pussy wet and wanting. The tips of my breasts puckered hard and tingling, but I wouldn’t satisfy my desire with Sam.

My gaze slid over to Camila and I told her, showed her, how I needed her to make this feeding complete. Samantha was satisfying one desperate craving. Only my maker, my mate, would quench the other. She reached out and stroked my cheek, projecting her feelings to me, making me purr. She would have me.

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My eyes slid closed and I fed, slowly but deeply. I opened my eyes once more when the brother-king Pax appeared. He nodded to Camila, then I held his slate-gray gaze for a brief moment. He blinked in shock, then bowed deeply as his show of acceptance and respect. He would serve me now, if I allowed it, but beyond recognizing my sudden ascension, he was my brother and I accepted the bond, too. I wouldn’t ask for anything from him, but I nodded slightly, my fangs still clamped onto Samantha’s tender throat. I stroked the length of her spine gently, soothing her through another shuddering release.