pdf - Saving Jenna.PDF (2 page)

It took two tries to jam the key in the ignition. Finally the engine roared to life, and Jenna threw it in reverse, spinning tires and throwing gravel in her wake.

Nic Alero leaned back against the wall of the dark club, the heavy metal music beating like a hammer in his skull. He casually brought his bottle of beer to his lips, all the while keeping an eye on the dance floor. Club Smoke was as safe as someplace run by a Were-Dragon could be, but Aidan Gallagher, the club’s owner and Nic’s friend, occasionally asked Nic to provide some muscle and intimidation. Sipping the bitter brew, he winced. After four hundred and fifty years his body tolerated small amounts of foreign liquid, but blood was the only thing that truly satisfied him.

He took in the scene around him; scantily clad women crammed the dance floor, grinding on each other and the men brave enough to take them on. A year ago he would have been in the mix of sweat and sleek bodies, seeking out blood and sex from one of the women who regularly offered themselves up to the Vampire.

Humans loved being with Vampires, with any of the Night Creatures, really. Nic knew there was nothing quite like the rush one felt the first moment a lover’s fangs pierced tender flesh, nothing like the power of a Were riding over and inside of you like a lightning storm. So the humans flooded Club Smoke because it was one of the few clubs in the Metro area to allow, hell, even encourage, mingling between the species.

It was a novel approach to uniting human and Night Creature society, and it served Nic well. Free blood, freer sex: It was every hungry, horny Vampire’s dream.

Now, as he surveyed the large space, it seemed tacky and sad. The blood never lost its appeal, but the mindless sex had. Looking over the mass of hormonal, over-stimulated humans and Vamps, Nic was tired.

After four centuries he was tired of dealing with curious humans treating him like a side show freak or a sexual novelty. He was tired of those who would idolize him, of those who would hate and hunt him.

Nic knew all Vampires experienced this kind of melancholy somewhere in their long lives. This year it was his turn, and as he saw it he had two choices: He could walk into the sun or he could quit whining and get on with his life.

He’d tried going back to Italy, the place of his birth. The countryside was still breathtaking, even by moonlight. The blood willingly provided by beautiful young women had been intoxicating, infused with the amazing local wines. But soon enough even his childhood home became a prison, a constant reminder of the beautiful Vampiress who’d pretended to love him, only to abandon him, confused and suffering from his change.

Nic knew exactly what he needed to still his craving. Nic needed his mate, his One.

He gave a soft, bitter laugh.
His One
. It was a legend among his kind, for each Vampire there was one person, one being, out there who would complete them. Nic thought he knew better. In four hundred and fifty years, he’d never seen a hint this mysterious
One
existed, not for him, and not for any other Vampire he knew. Believing this part of Vampire folklore was akin to believing Vamps couldn’t eat garlic or cross running water; stereotypes, nothing more. His head called him a fool for wanting to believe in such nonsense, but his heart was another matter. Deep down Nic longed to feel the kind of bond with another, the kind that existed in the history books but nowhere else.

Except in his dreams.

Jenna!
Her name flashed in his brain like a neon sign. If only he knew where the hell to find her. Six months ago he’d heard her heart cry out in the night. He’d entered her dream and found his destiny. One look at her lovely, heart-shaped face and he was enamored; but it was the purity of her heart that captured him completely. In their shared dreams he’d experienced the kind of passion and fulfillment his kind only ever fantasized about. Sharing Jenna’s dream, Nic knew the legends were true. He’d found his One.

Her presence in his dreams was killing him. To have her in his sleep and not in real life bordered on torture. He found himself lazing the night away in bed, not willing to miss a single second of her dreams.

Sex, real sex, lost its appeal when compared with the communion of souls he experienced with Jenna in their dreams. He hadn’t fucked another female in months, not since the night he’d realized that touching another woman felt like adultery, like a betrayal of all he and Jenna shared.

His dreams of Jenna became his secret obsession, a distraction he couldn’t afford.

The most maddening thing of all was that he knew she was out there; he’d been dreaming of her for months, but no matter where or how he searched, she was as insubstantial as smoke trailing through his fingers. And she was so familiar. He knew he’d seen her somewhere, but where?

His Blood Brother Sebastian took notice, questioning him discreetly about the changes in his behavior. Nic told him nothing. What could he really say?
I’ve fallen in
love with a woman who takes away the desire to walk into the sun, but I’ve only seen her
in my dreams.
But perhaps now it was time to confide in Bas. The other Vampire was a gifted investigator and security expert. If anyone could find Nic’s mystery woman, Bas would be the one.

God, he was pathetic, pining after a woman he couldn’t even find, but when he closed his eyes, Nic saw her clearly. She was the image of a Greek goddess, tall and curvy with softly rounded hips and ass, and full, lush breasts. She had an angelic face with smooth, creamy skin and a ripe pink mouth. Her brown eyes held just a hint of green; her light brown hair held streaks of gold as it fell to her shoulders.

Jenna was everything he hadn’t known he’d been searching for. She was shy in her manner, but when he made love to her she turned into a wildcat, purring in his arms.

Nic finished the stale beer and set the bottle on a small table next to him. He needed to speak to Aidan about a change in scenery. The Were-Dragon would understand Nic’s restlessness and relieve him of duty for the night. Or for however long it took Nic to get his head straight.

As he walked through the throng of partiers, he tried to shake the memory of last night’s dream. She was so sad, his Jenna. And maybe a bit frightened. Nic’s every protective instinct screamed at him to find her, protect her, most of all to claim her.

“You have been gone for almost a week,” he murmured. “I have missed you.”
She lay before him, gloriously nude, the cream and berry perfection of her body
glowing against the rich satin duvet.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted. There was something in her eyes that
worried him. Something more than the usual wistful longing he usually found there. “And
the medicine the doctor gave me didn’t allow me the luxury of dreaming.”
Dread filled him as Nic gazed into her expressive, troubled eyes. “Why haven’t you
been able to sleep? Tell me, Jenna, what is troubling you?”
She met his gaze and for a moment he thought she might speak, might finally open up
to him, allowing him to find her, to protect her, to
keep
her.

Then she blinked, and the moment passed. Nic prepared to press her, to demand she
share her thoughts as freely as she shared her body, but she reached out her slim, strong
hands and wrapped them around his cock, strangling his words in his throat and
crushing his good intentions.

Shaking his head at his own futile musings, Nic approached the double doors marked Employees Only and pushed through. His hard-soled boots clicked on the tile floor, masking a second set of footsteps. Suddenly, without warning, he was thrown against the concrete wall.

“Chandra,” he groaned in resignation, catching her upper arms in his hands. The female Vamp smiled naughtily at him, her fangs descending as she lunged for his neck.

He tightened his grip on her arms, holding her off a bare inch from his throat.

Her full, red-painted lips glistened wetly as she gave him a pout. “Oh, come on, Nicky. I just want a little taste.” Her red-tipped nails scraped stinging paths down his chest.

“Fuck, Chandra, I don’t need this right now.”

She moved in closer. “Oh, I know what you need,” she purred, dropping to her knees.

Nic looked down at the top of her silky blonde hair. Chandra was hell on wheels and enjoyed her sex as rough and ready as any male. A year ago he would have slammed her into the wall and fucked her until she couldn’t stand. Tonight was a different story. He looked down at the beautiful Vampiress kneeling between his thighs, ready to use that wicked mouth on him. After a minute he sighed. He felt nothing. There was no stirring in his cock. The pounding erection he’d had just remembering the dream of Jenna’s hands on him withered under Chandra’s greedy gaze. He didn’t long to lift Chandra’s short skirt and rip away her thong to get to the heat hidden inside. He caught the scent of her arousal, and looked down at his crotch. Nope, nothing. It was no use. Dreaming or awake, his dick belonged to Jenna, and it wouldn’t get hard for anyone else.

Gently he pulled Chandra to her feet. “Not tonight, Chan,” he said regretfully.

The female ran her hands up and down his chest. “Come on, Nic. It’s been over a year since we’ve played together.” She moved in for a kiss, but he blocked her. “What’s with you?” Her cold green eyes narrowed on his. “Do you have any idea how many men want to fuck me?”

“Then go find one of them.” Her eyes widened in outrage, and Nic’s hands went to her shoulders to hold her off.

“Chandra, I said no. Not tonight nor any other night. I won’t give to you what belongs to someone else.”

Nic could all but see her mind working as he set her away from him.

“You’re joking, I get it.” Her hands traveled down the black dress that hugged her slim body like a second skin. “You are a cruel tease.” She cupped her breasts and lifted them to Nic like a pagan offering. “But you can’t say you don’t want this, Nicky. You can’t say you don’t want me.”

“Chandra,” taking one of her hands in his; he pressed it to his flaccid cock. He kept his voice harsh, pausing for emphasis between each word. “I. Don’t. Want. You.” Her hands fluttered to her sides and her pale green eyes began to glow. Nic waited for her verbal assault, but it never came. Instead, she straightened her spine and tossed her long, blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Have it your way, Nic.” Her voice was cool and composed, and utterly at odds with the hell-fire glow in her eyes. “But you and I both know there isn’t a female alive or dead that can give you what I can.”

She turned on her five-inch stilettos and marched out through the employee entrance.

He let his head fall back against the wall and gave a low groan of frustration. He definitely needed to get out of here. Turning to continue on to Aidan's office, Nic froze as a familiar scent filled his nose.

Blood. A
lot
of blood.
He stood still and focused on nothing except the blood. He followed the scent, and before he’d reached the end of the hall, he began to hear screams coming from outside the building. Faint, terrified cries for help.

He picked up speed. As he passed Aidan’s office, he reached out to pound on the door. There was no need. The door flew open, Aidan and Sebastian came stalking out.

“You hear it, too,” the Dragon asked. Nic nodded, still headed for the emergency exit.

There was something really bad waiting for them outside.

*

Jenna lurched under a brutal kick to the ribs. Her left eye was swollen shut, blood trickled from her mouth and nose. She’d fought her father’s minions for as long as she could, but she’d known it was a losing battle. There was no contest, the two hybrids possessed more than human strength, and Jenna had never been the fighter, anyway. That was Rowan. So in the end, she did the only thing she could, wrap herself up into a ball and wait to die. Her body was becoming numb to the pain, on the cusp of going into shock.

She’d been running from them for what felt like days, but was really only a few hours. In spite of all their careful planning, Jenna and Rowan’s escape was discovered almost immediately. A short, harrowing car chase ended when her tire was shot out.

Somehow, whether by luck or providence, she’d managed to guide the car safely to a ditch, and then she ran like hell.

Ducking down this alley hastened the end for Jenna. It was blocked off on one end, leaving no escape route. The hybrids caught her easily, and it was child’s play for them to batter her to a bloody pulp. In fact, they’d acted like children at play, laughing and crowing like teenagers as her blood flew and her bones snapped. To add insult to injury, the entire time they beat her, they took turns reminding her that they did so with her father’s blessing.

Her hair was yanked back, arching her neck painfully, and hot, rancid breath bathed her face.

“Do you want some more Jenny-pie? Or are you ready to go back to where you belong?” Her hair was released. She didn’t have the strength to hold her head up, and it clunked painfully against the dirty concrete.

With her one good eye she watched the two men move away from her. The taller one was animated as he spoke, pointing from her to the other man. The shorter of the two, Sal, kept shaking his head back and forth. He was one of her father’s more brutal Enforcers. Close to three hundred pounds of pure muscle, his face was square, his jaw wider than a normal man’s. His mouth housed a set of sharp canines, a product of his mixed Werewolf heritage. Sal didn’t have the ability to shift into animal form, but he didn’t really need to. Thanks to her father’s experimentation, Sal sported a pair of small beady black eyes set in a long, thick face that looked more like a muzzle than a man. He had a superior sense of smell and a terminal case of pissed off. He truly enjoyed torturing people.

Jenna rolled over to her stomach while the two argued. Her bloody fingers dug into the concrete as she dragged herself away from the men. Crawling on her stomach toward a single source of light, she desperately scanned for some type of weapon. She knew she wasn’t making it out of this alley alive, but maybe she could take one of these bastards with her.