Undying Hunger (12 page)

Eve’s gaze lifted to what had to be a giant goose egg on Alex’s forehead, and she grimaced. “Ouch,” she said and brushed aside a few stray locks of Alex’s hair for a better look.

“That’s what happens when your head slams into one of theirs,” Alex said. She ran a few of her fingers over the bruised lump, the flesh sensitive to touch.

“Damn.” Eve frowned. “We’re going to need to work on your ducking skills.” Her frown lifted into a teasing grin.

“Ha, ha.” Alex rolled her eyes. “I should probably check in with Elle.” Alex lowered the zipper on her leather jacket, reached in, and pulled out her cell. “I’m sure she’s about to jump out of her skin wondering how things are going out here.”

“That’s a good idea,” Eve said. “Put her out of her misery.” The tall brunette strode over to her mate, and the two proceeded to rehash the last few minutes of the battle while inspecting their weapons.

Alex tapped the stored number in her phone for the Enclave. Elle answered on the first ring.

“Alex?”

Grinning, she replied, “Yes, it’s me.”

“What’s happening out there?” Elle’s tone was light, attempting to hide her anxiety, but Alex knew her sister. She could only imagine how many empty bottles of diet soda and blueberry Pop-Tart wrappers littered Elle’s desk. Her go-to foods when she was worried.

“I’m fine, Elle,” Alex said, trying to put her mind at ease. “We’re all okay.”

“So, all’s quiet on the docks?” Something tapped the phone, and a swallowing sound registered through the connection. Elle had taken another swig of her drink.

“At first, yeah, it was,” Alex began. “But we just downed three DEADs.” She glanced over at her partners. Guerin had his cell out. “I think Guerin is arranging for a cleanup of a human couple the addicts took down.”

“Oh, damn.” Elle groaned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Alex’s thoughts wandered back to the moment they’d found the two people bleeding out beneath the DEADs. The scene had hit her harder than expected, but after she’d shaken it off and gone to work… She breathed deeply, reveling in the blossoming sense of empowerment, the satisfaction that had come from taking action. She’d made a difference. “For the first time in a long while, Elle,” she whispered, and a strange—considering her battle with the DEAD—yet pleasant warmth filled her, “I’m really okay.”

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.”

“You don’t know how good it is—” Movement out of the periphery of Alex’s eye caught her attention. She spun. Her breath hitched. “Oh shit…” Emerging from the fog, at least five more DEADs stood before her.

“Alex!” Elle shouted. “What’s going on?”

“Hello, beautiful,” the one in front said, his elongated fangs dripping with drool.

“More DEADs,” Alex muttered, dropped her cell, and dived for the dagger at her thigh. “Eve!”

Her palm found the hard, smooth grip of her dagger. She wrapped her fingers around the hilt and yanked it free. A sharp burning sensation exploded in her abdomen. Air punched from her legs. Her knees buckled.

“Alex!” Eve’s voice rang out, but it was too late.

Alex hit the pavement, her hand seizing her midsection. Hot fluid seeped between her fingers.
Damn, damn, damn.
She’d really screwed up.

Chapter Thirteen

Two more reps.

Straddling the weight bench, Markus curled his arm, lifting the seventy-pound dumbbell for another round. Sweat beaded on his flesh. The droplets dripped off his forehead, stinging his eyes, as he watched the black and red tats stretch around his biceps. His right arm had already been punished for the last half hour, so he couldn’t allow his left to feel ignored.

Jaw clenched, he lowered the weight, drawing in a long breath through his nostrils.

“Who the hell are you pissed at?”

Markus glanced up to find Arran standing in front of him, his blond hair pulled back and bound at his nape. Christ, he didn’t need Arran riding his ass tonight. He yanked on the dumbbell once more, air hissing through his teeth. With his free hand, Markus flipped him the one-fingered universal sign for do not disturb.

Tossing a towel over his shoulder, Arran scowled and crossed his arms over his dark blue wifebeater. “You’ve been in here for the last two hours,” Arran said.

Damn.
He knew the vampire was blond, but he didn’t think Arran was so dense he couldn’t read when a male wanted to be left alone. He lowered the dumbbell, but this time, Markus allowed it to roll from his palm. The weight hit the wood floor with a heavy
thud
.

“Kenric’s promoted you to gym monitor now?” Markus swung his leg over the bench, stood, and snatched his own towel from the seat behind him. “And I’ve exceeded my limit?”

“Nope, on either,” Arran said, unfazed by Markus’s sarcasm.

Shit
.
Must be losing my touch
.

“Just an observation,” Arran added.

“Sweet Elle must not be keeping you
occupied
enough…” Markus made a quick pass over his brow and face with the terry. “Seeing as you’re spending your time monitoring me.”

“Fuck you,” Arran growled, shaking his head. “You may act like you’ve changed in front of Kenric”—his lip curled back, eyes narrowing—“but in my gut, I know you’re still the sick son of a bitch who would betray every last one of us if the price was right—or the pussy hot enough.” Arran released a guttural sound of disgust and headed toward one of the two treadmills that faced a wide flat-screen TV.

“You don’t know shit,” Markus chewed out. The phrase fired off right before Kenric’s words came charging back like a swift kick inside his head:
You may be ready, but what you need to work on now is healing the distance between you and your partner.

Arran rotated on his heels, a slow spin followed by a glare that declared he wanted a piece of him. “Oh, I do know you, Markus,” he snarled. “That’s the problem. A problem I’m willing to fix right now.” Arran tossed the towel from his shoulder to the floor and stepped forward.

“Seriously, man?” Markus crossed his arms. “We’re going down this road again?”

“From what I’ve seen, you’ve never left it.” Arran didn’t stop until they were nose to nose. “Bottom line…” Arran inhaled a sharp breath. “I don’t trust you, Markus. You’re unstable. Dangerous. In my opinion, your presence is a threat to the Enclave.”

“Please, don’t spare my feelings.” Markus quirked a corner of his mouth. Yeah, the words stung, but Arran wasn’t saying anything he didn’t deserve.

Arran rolled his eyes. “Can’t you be serious for even one damn minute?”

Diverting his attention to the big screen on the opposite wall, Markus rubbed his palm across his face and over his head. This was his chance. The door had been cracked. A knot, coiled and barbed, pulsed inside his chest. He glanced back to his former partner, swallowed hard, then found his voice. “Tell me what I need to do to prove that I’m the same male you used to know. That you can trust me.”

Fuck.

That was hard. But Markus kept his tone steady, never wavering from the other vamp’s glare. “Tell me what that is, Arran, and I’ll do it,” he continued. “Seriously.”

Shaking his head, Arran took a step away from him and spun, giving the other male his back. As if it had been festering somewhere deep in his gut, an agonized groan surfaced and spilled from the Enclave warrior. “How dare you?” Arran whipped around, fire swirling, flashing around his irises. “After everything you did to Alex, my mate,
and
the Enclave, I don’t even know how to respond to that. How can you even expect me to—”

Pain, hot and tearing, sliced through Markus’s abdomen, blinding him to whatever else Arran was about to say. His breath stalled in his lungs, and he doubled over.

“Markus!” Arran shouted. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

The room tilted, and he stumbled back. Arran grabbed his biceps, stabilizing him.

“Talk to me!” the warrior demanded.

Giving his head a shake, Markus did his best to knock away the stars from his line of sight. “Shit,” he grunted, his voice rusty.

With his palm still pressed to his abdomen, he massaged what felt like a burning hole in his gut. His chest ached as if someone had a chokehold on his heart. What the hell was happening to him?

“I don’t know, man,” Markus managed to get force out between breaths. “I was fine.” He glanced up at Arran while trying to unfold his body from the fetal position it was determined to assume. Fuck that. “Then this sharp pain, like a knife cutting through me…” Markus looked down at his bare midsection and pulled his hand away, half expecting to find his palm dripping with blood. That’s when it hit him. Icy tendrils of panic slithered on a fast-moving current through his veins, nearly shutting down his ability to function.

Alexandria.

“God, no!” Fear launched his body back into action. He lunged for the door, slamming his shoulder into Arran’s, knocking him out of the way. “Alexandria!”

“Markus!” Arran called out. The heavy fall of footsteps behind him relayed that the other vampire followed him down the hall. “What about Alexandria?” The warrior’s voice echoed off the narrow corridor’s walls.

“Something’s not right,” Markus called over his shoulder.

“How do you know that?”

Markus dug his fingers into the flesh over the epicenter of the pain, choking back the suffocating knot of fear in his throat. “I feel it.”

As if someone had tripped up his former partner’s sprint down the hall, Arran’s footsteps faltered. Glancing back, Markus captured the other male’s gaze. Anxiety greeted him in the vampire’s stare. He understood all too well what Markus meant. “Oh, fuck,” Arran groaned and charged forward.

By the time he reached the mansion’s basement, the heart of the Enclave, Markus’s pulse had morphed into a jackhammer inside his head. And judging by the elevated pitch of Elle’s voice as they neared her desk, unfortunately, it appeared his instincts hadn’t been wrong.

Something
had
happened to Alexandria.

Dread spilled like a putrid oil slick inside his gut. Its stained fingers melded with the pain there until he was sure nothing would be able to hold back the bile crawling up his esophagus. Enrique had made good on his threat.

Rushing past him toward his mate and the Enclave’s commander, Arran reached Elle first. “What happened?” he asked, glancing at the anxious female, then Kenric.

It took everything inside Markus not to be the one in the master’s face demanding answers. Instead, he hung back, his claws digging a trench inside his palms.

“It’s Alex and the rest of the team,” Elle said, her voice tight with anxiety. “She called, and at first, she sounded good. They’d run into a few DEADs, but Alex said she was okay then she suddenly whispered, ‘more DEADs,’ and called out to Eve right before I lost her.” She glanced over at Arran, then Markus for the first time.

“Lost her?” Markus edged closer. “Lost her how?”

“What are you doing down here?” she snarled.

An inferno raced inside his veins, and he was sure his irises were burning a fiery red. But at that moment, he didn’t give a shit if Elle was upset or not. No one was going to keep him away.

“Don’t worry about him.” Arran cupped her cheek, drawing her attention back to the details. “Is there anything else? Have you heard from Guerin or Eve since then?”

“Not yet,” she said. “I tried calling back the second the line went dead, but no one’s responding yet. I think Alex may have dropped her cell, because after she called out for Eve I heard a loud
pop
.”

Arran looked to Kenric. “What area were they patrolling tonight?”

Kenric started to respond, but Markus didn’t have time for this shit. Alex needed him now. Not minutes from now.

“I’ve heard all I need to here.” Markus headed toward the stairs. If he left things up to them, she’d be dead. And he wasn’t about to allow that to happen. He’d been too lax about her safety, allowing others to protect the only damn thing in the world that mattered to him. His reason to exist.

“Markus!” Kenric called out. “Where are you going?”

“To find my female,” he said, not giving a fuck what anyone thought about his claim to Alexandria. Following the ache in his soul and body, Markus phased from the mansion into the night.

Moments later, he coalesced onto a shadowy back street, and the grunting sounds of a battle filled his ears. Automatically, Markus dived for his back pocket and the blade he was sure to find tucked inside. Instead, his palm discovered nothing but his sweats. “Idiot,” he grunted under his breath.

He’d been so out of his mind, he’d left without changing or grabbing a weapon.

Scanning the immediate area, he counted about a half dozen DEADs a few feet ahead of him along with Eve and Guerin in the center of the bastards. The addicts had them walled in, their daggers flashing in a constant merry-go-round of a fight. But the duo were holding their own. Good thing, because at the moment, they weren’t his primary concern. Besides, Kenric and Arran would arrive soon and save their asses.

Markus edged closer, his heart pounding, searching for the only person on the planet who gave him a reason to rise each night. Alexandria had to be alive. His brain couldn’t comprehend any other alternative.

A pair of mangled human remains lay in a twisted lump near a garbage bin, but their scent along with the vibrating hum in his blood stream told him neither was Alexandria. A wave of relief swamped him as Markus swept the shadows. Where the hell was she?

“Markus!” Guerin called out a split second before something solid came down hard across the back of Markus’s head.

Fuck!

He didn’t have time for this. Jarred, but not stunned, Markus spun, bringing one booted leg up in a sweeping move. His heel slammed into the DEAD’s flank with kidney-crushing accuracy. A grunt burst from the vampire as the male careened into the nearby wall. His head bounced off the brick, releasing a loud
crack
as the two-by-four he’d used as a bat toppled from his hand onto the street.

Prepared for the next attack, Markus whipped back around, his fists in front of his face. That’s when he noticed the other crumpled body lying in the shadows. The lump of muscle he called a heart stuttered at the sight.

His knees struck the pavement at her side, rattling his jaw. Yet he had no recollection of when he’d moved. A ring of crimson pooled beneath Alexandria’s back. A groan, born from the tormented depths of hell, rolled from his throat and filled his ears.

With hesitant fingers, he reached out, aching to touch her again. He cupped her cheek with trembling fingers. Shallow, warm puffs of air left her parted lips and teased his palm.

Enrique is responsible for this.
Harsh breaths exited his nostrils, and his fingers curled.

“I swear to you,” he rumbled to her still form. “I will make him pay. Before this is over, Enrique will experience pain he never knew possible.”

He had to get her out of there. Markus swallowed hard against the restriction in his throat. Fuck it all. He had to take her somewhere Enrique would never look. A place not even the Enclave knew about.

A growl reached his ears at the same moment another hard blow rammed into his back. Claws dug into his shoulders as fangs, sharp and tearing, sank into his throat.

“Son of a bitch!” Markus roared, and surged to his feet. Swinging his arms out to his sides, he flung the bastard off him and turned on his heels. “You want a piece of me?” he shouted, his voice devolving into that of a savage primitive beast. His fangs jabbed his lower lip, aching for retaliation. “Come and take it.”

Two of the motherfuckers stood facing him, their clothes torn and filthy. Saliva and blood dripped from their chins. Nothing mattered except their next kill, another dose of Death Euphoria screaming into their bloodstream and straight to their brain cells.

The one to his left lunged first. More than likely, the bastard who’d jumped him—back for more. And Markus was more than happy to give it to him.

Markus leaped, and the two collided in midair. Claws and fangs clashed, blood spraying as if two hundred–plus pounds of wingless raptors fought for dominance. Only one would come out on top, and it wasn’t going to be the hissing cocksucker with a nasty-ass drool problem.

The ground rose up to meet them with bone-jarring intensity. Air punched from both their lungs on a hoarse grunt. Markus rolled away and onto his feet as the other vamp flipped into a crouch, his knuckles resting on the pavement. His partner in crime joined him at his side. Their features morphed, becoming half man, half wolf. Both males were too young to fully shift into an alternate form. Yet both were ready to pounce.

Time to put an end to this grisly circus.