The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) (39 page)

“
What about those Singers that took Julia?”
That was really the only detail that he hadn't ironed out, made
sense of. He was undaunted, as usual. He'd just ramrod through
everything and have his way.

Also per usual.

Lawrence paused for so long Tony opened his
mouth to repeat his question again.

“
He has been mentioned in the foretelling as
well.”

That damn book again, Tony thought,
seething.

“
It says: There will be one that is a true
pairing, borne of the same ilk, traversed by lineage, blood rite
and power.”

“
Huh?”

Tony hated the old language. Just Spit. It.
The. Fuck. Out.

“
It means that there is a Singer that is her
equal, a male that hails from a blood line that complements hers; a
soul-pairing if you will.”

Now that was a brand of shit he didn't hear
very often.

He played nice for Lawrence though. “Right,
so how do we deal with this?”

“
It's simple, you befriend the Red, take a
contingent of our finest reconnaissance and reacquire the Rare
One.”

Tony liked that plan, minus a Were.

A red.

He'd take care of him like he took care of
Joseph: permanently.

“
You can count on me,” Tony said, looking the
Packmaster right in the eye. Because, to Tony, it was a reality he
believed in. Therefore it was truth.

The delivery would be different but the
results the same.

That Singer would submit to him. His will.
His dominance. He was so not done with that bitch.

Not by a long shot.

Lawrence smiled, relieved. It was most
excellent that he had an Alpha willing to do the dangerous missions
without faltering.

He just wished that his nose didn't smell
the scent of lies in the room. Which of those that he'd spoken were
truths were not known to Lawrence but his disquiet deepened.

He was unsure how safe the rare Red would be
on a mission with Tony.

Lawrence was a fatalist. He would allow
destiny to assert itself. Whatever would be, would be the choice of
the fates, not his.

And he had deliberately left the most
important scripture from the book out of the retelling to Tony:

“
The Rare One, in a force of blood union,
will bring those that seek unity together, as they were meant to be
from time immemorial.”

That was better left to the ignorance that
Tony excelled at.

Jason watched Tony come toward him with
wariness. He had treated him like shit when he was holed away in
that pen they'd kept him in. Now he was welcome? Yeah, he'd believe
that when he saw it.

Besides, he'd seen what he'd done to the other
Alpha in the woods. He thought he'd gotten away with something. A
coward's win, at best. Jason, unlike Tony, had been perusing the
great hall which held the history of the Were.

His people now.

His heart constricted in his chest. His other
life was so thoroughly gone. Kev dead. Cyn... God knows where and
his Julia... no longer his.

He stared at the approaching Were and knew he
slept amongst enemies. In fact, the only one that had been even
vaguely welcoming was that hell-cat, Adi. Jason couldn't help but
feel a little protective over her. It's like she antagonized
everyone, keeping them at arm's length.

He was familiar with that modus operandi. It
reminded him a little of Jules. She'd kinda done that. After her
parents' death, she'd shut down the part of herself that
trusts.

Hopes.

Jason liked to think that he'd given her back
some of what she lost. He knew that if they'd been able to continue
on the path they'd chosen, she'd have experienced joy. Release.
True happiness.

Now, she was...? He absently rubbed his chest.
Somewhere.

Tony scented the Red.
Dammit
, he loathed
his ass. He was just different enough in his genetics, his line,
that Tony couldn't get a bead on him. He took a deep, calming
breath. He needed this pudwhacker. He needed him to come, feel like
he was a part of it. Then, when the timing was perfect, he'd bleed
him out like so much bad meat. At least, that was the loose plan
for now. Tony was nothing if not adaptable.

Jason felt Tony try to scent something on him
and could smell his frustration. Maybe he was just different enough
from Tony that there was something that was inhibiting his sense of
smell.

Tony's eyebrows lowered. The Feral's Singer
lineage was blocking him. It sucked to be nose-blind, he wasn't
used to it and it fouled his mood even more.

“Listen,” Tony began, raking a hand through dark
hair. His brown eyes held no warmth, no expression. Whatever Tony
felt never reached those merciless eyes. He was robotic in a way
that creeped Jason out.

“It's been, what, a couple of weeks since the
Rare One was taken by the Singers...”

“Julia,” Jason said in a low voice that was at
once soft and filled with authority.

Tony stared at him. “Yeah. Anyway,” he glared at
Jason. “We need to train for reacquisition.”

Jason's heart leapt in his chest. Then crashed.
He spoke carefully, with deliberation, “I do want her with me.
But,” he spread his palms out, “because of my confusion... I don't
think she'll go anywhere with any of us. And she was here before.
She wasn't happy. Adi told me.” Jason hadn't come up with a plan to
fix his unfixable blunder. He didn't think force was it though.

“It doesn't matter. She belongs with us,” Tony
said in exasperation, like that bitch Adi had anything to say about
it.

“Jules needs to be where she's safe, happy,”
Jason said like it was the most obvious conclusion in the
world.

Tony gave him an incredulous expression. Two
heartbeats went by, then about three more, the silence rolling out.
“You're a fucking pussy, Feral.”

Jason reacted before intellect could warn him,
his snout bursting out of a face that had been human seconds
before, moments before.

With talons sprung he leapt at Tony.

Tony met him in a kiss of smacking flesh and
they rolled on the ground together. Jason wrapped his taloned
fingers with sure finesse around Tony's thick neck, his wolf eyes,
spinning wheels of green came within a dizzying inch of Tony's
face.

“I'm not a fucking pussy,” Jason said, his voice
sounding like falling gravel. He lifted Tony's head and slammed it
on the floor for emphasis, “Don't you see? You selfish prick! I
love her!” Jason screamed in Tony's face then stood, his chest
heaving, a fine layer of hair like climbing fire sprung from his
skin, looking like crimson fuzz.

“I love her!” he repeated in a low bellow of
agony, his palms out by his side, his head thrown back, the many
teeth that lined his snout glowing as his words morphed into a
mournful howl.

Tony looked at him from the ground, mesmerized.
What wouldn't he do if he could partially change without the
moon.
That's when that female bitch, Adi, came running in and
he smiled. His thoughts turned to depravity on a dime.

The first thing he'd do was nail her. Oh yeah.
He'd force breed her. His smile turned into a grin with the thought
of it. With any luck she'd get pregnant with his pups. Life was
good.

Adi screamed into the open barn where Jason
spent so much of his time before and skidded to a stop when she saw
that dipshit, Tony, sitting on the ground with a stupid grin on his
face.
There was something creepy about it,
she thought, but
was distracted from dissecting the idea when she saw Jason's
half-wolf, half-human form in front of her.

“What?!” she yelled at no one and everyone.

Jason turned that fiery green gaze at her. She
watched as he melted back into his human form, the wolf features
sliding into the sandy-haired hazel-eyed, six foot two inch guy
that she'd come to know. Seeing his half-wolf form had brought back
the memories of that day when he'd done the rubber band on her arm.
Her fear flared briefly, then receded as Jason gave her a small
smile of comfort. It left his face when his gaze shifted to
Tony.

There was an awkward silence. Then Jason ended
it. “I'll go.”

He stalked out of the training barn, leaving
Tony on the floor with that considering smile on his face.

When Adi turned on her heel and followed Jason
out Tony grinned in triumph. It had been handled expertly. Jason
was too weak to assert dominance over Tony, but he'd pressed all
the right buttons to position the Feral right where he wanted him.
Under his thumb.

Perfection.

*

Julia

Julia awoke, feeling well and perfect. She met
deep eyes that were nearly ebony, full of concern and
conciliation.

“Hey,” Scott said softly by way of greeting.

“Hey,” Julia croaked, her mouth like a
desert.

Scott placed a bendy straw in a cup with a lid,
and she gave him a look and he laughed, it was like musical stones
(if there were such a thing) and she took that in. There were new
feelings awakening in her like a slow trickle. Trusting him, she
bent over the straw to sip water that was pure, uncontaminated.

“Ah,” Julia moaned with pure bliss, the cool
water chasing the dry mouth to a distant memory.

“Good?” Scott asked, a dimple asserting itself
next to white teeth, full lips and... Julia blushed. His nearness,
coupled with what she knew, was... overwhelming in the extreme.

“Hey,” he raised a massive palm in mock-truce.
“Do you think we can go a minute or two without fighting?”

Julia didn't really know. She'd give it a
shot.

Her lips quirked up. “I think so,” she said
dubiously.

Scott chuckled and took her hand in his.
He
was a big guy
, Julia noticed, her small hand disappearing in
his mammoth one. Scott didn't know he was intimidating. He was just
him. Scott was accustomed to his size, taking charge, making things
happen. He was a package deal, the physique matching the
psyche.

Scott was at a loss with Julia. This small woman
had turned his existence upside down. His anger was spent. Scott
was seeing things a little more clearly.

Julia had been through a lot. She hadn’t had the
convenience of a huge ass family at her back or training about who
she was from the beginning. The reality had been different for
Scott. He'd always known he was a Blood Singer. His role had been
laid out perfectly for him, his path absolute. Scott knew what he
was and what his life held.

Or, he thought he had.

Now, as he held the hand of their reluctant
Queen, he realized that role was changing. Whether they liked it or
not. And now was the time to help someone else. In this case,
Julia. She needed him. She didn't need his uncertainty and
anger.

Julia deserved more.

Her needs pulsed in a direct pathway to his
soul. She didn't have to speak, he felt what she wanted, what she'd
never had.

Scott determined he would give it.

Or die trying.

Hope. That's what Julia wanted.

Scott could do that.

He grinned at her and after a moment, she gave a
tremulous smile in return.

Lawrence looked at his second and waited.
Finally, he said, “That is most excellent.”

Emmanuel smiled in return. He was not the
keenest fighter but his nose was unparallelled amongst their den.
He'd found the girl in less than a day. When their sister pack from
Homer had communicated her departure the entire national Allegiance
of Were was put on point. She was but one female, unless she
traveled through Canada, Seattle was the logical stopping point. It
was common for the good of the pack that a background check was
done on all persons of interest. She was no exception and simply
knew too much. However, in having uncovered her dire financial
situation and ascertaining that she did not have the means to have
traveled further than where she currently resided, they had
discovered an interesting fact.

There was a sizable nest of Blood Singers in the
Homer region.

Of which she was unknowingly a part.

Cynthia Adams had Singer blood. It was almost
too convenient. Their Alaskan counterparts had done some digging
and there was a more than random concentration of the rare human
sub-species. The why of it all was not certain, but it did give the
supernaturals pause. It was no wonder that a Rare One would crop up
with so many in that region. Then, of course, it was most logical
that they would gravitate toward one another.

“What have you discovered?” Lawrence asked
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel told him.

It took a half hour and when he finished there
was a full silence, almost pregnant. It filled the great library of
the history of his species. Finally, Lawrence asked, “Do the Homer
Were understand what is all around them? The treasure?”

Emmanuel's brows drew together in a frown. “What
are you asking?”

“Not asking, Manny, planning.”

The light bulb burst on inside his head with a
shouting leap of brightness that blinded the interior of his skull,
chasing all other thoughts from his brain.

“You propose what? To force their change?”

Lawrence nodded, he loved dealing with Manny.
Most pleasant. Unlike his Alpha, who was all about brute force and
making things mold into his personal agenda, Manny thought things
through carefully. That was why he was sent on this sensitive
mission after the Adams girl.

“I do. After seeing what the Feral is... I think
we could capture the region if we had command of ones as powerful
as turned Singers.”

“Yes,” Manny began, thinking it through
furiously, “however, you remember what Jason Caldwell was for
months. He was untrainable, brought down to his basest instincts.
Like a house stripped to the studs.”