The Blood Bundle, Books 1-2: Blood Singers and Blood Song (New Adult Paranormal Vampire/Shifter Romance) (50 page)

Jacqueline intimidated her. Julia wasn't sure
why. She was vaguely threatening somehow. “I want proof.”

“Jacqueline,” Marcus began, spreading his heavy
palms away from his body in obvious supplication, “the
manifestation of the ten Combatants is enough.”

She shook her head. “Perhaps she is but a high
blood?”

“She is not, Mother,” Scott said and Julia
cringed as those dark eyes found her.

Jacqueline began at Julia's head and worked down
her body until she reached Julia's toes then worked back up
again.

“This is she?” Jacqueline asked, aghast.

“Yeah,” Micael said, grinning evilly.

Jacqueline's eyes narrowed on him, expecting his
deference and his grin broadened.

“Michael,” Marcus warned.

Michael rolled his eyes, huffing and folded his
arms over his muscular chest, he was truly only in his element when
he could make fun of others.

Julia found she wasn't complaining.

Jacqueline moved forward like a cat on the prowl
and Julia stood her ground, the woman who approached filled with a
confidence honed by centuries of living. The light from the fire
caused an orange glow to move with her as she neared and the only
thing that made Julia feel vaguely better was that Jacqueline
probably wouldn't kill her at this moment.

Because Julia could see that she wanted to.

Oh yes, it was plain in her eyes.

For some reason, her fabled Queenie status
wasn't a good thing for Jacqueline. Not. At. All.

They stared at each other and when Jacqueline
was an uncomfortable foot and a half away, her eyes found a point
near Julia's temple and the frown of concentration turned into a
scowl.

Without turning she said, “She bears the mark,”
in a flat voice.

“Yes,” Marcus said.

The men that had exited the sleek black vehicles
came forward, each one a similar size and breadth to the male at
her back.

And Julia had thought she was physically
intimidated by Scott.

There were nine other men that stood, towering
over Jacqueline and she stood amongst them, unafraid.

Utterly unruffled.

The one who had seemed indifferent leaned toward
Julia and Scott's grip tightened for a painful moment on her neck
and the man's eyes shifted from hers to Scott's. “You're hurting
her.”

Scott lightened his grip and Julia could breathe
again. She knew he'd just reacted to the other guy but hell, that'd
hurt.

“What mark?” Julia asked the group. What in the
hell were they talking about now? Her head spun with a new
possibility. She didn't want any newness. She was about goddamned
done with it. Like a hot dog. Like stick a fork in her done.

He recited in a solemn voice, “She will be bound
by fang, claw and blood, the kiss of the moon on high against where
she lays to sleep. The queen shall bear the mark of the
peacekeeping Singer....”

“A queen to unite all with her blood...” Jen
whispered.

“With our bodies we shield thee, with our minds
we honor thee,” the quiet voice of the male continued where Jen
left off, but it was Scott that finished. Julia listened in a daze
of comprehension.

“And one shall close the circle of protection as
her mate.” It had been said as neutrally as possible but it sounded
like a challenge to Julia's ears.

“Singer blood shall reign forever,” Marcus
finished into a great silence.

Awkward didn't even begin to cover it.

As Jacqueline's eyes narrowed to slits, Julia's
hand rose and she touched the smooth, crescent-shaped scar she
still bore from the accident so long ago. How many times had she
absently stroked the smooth, white surface and thought of her
parents?

How many times had Jason kissed it?

All the while it had been a mark put there by
fate.

As dozens of sets of eyes looked at her, Julia
knew it was going to get harder and harder to get out of this mess
she was in.

She wanted to escape now more than ever. As she
looked into Jacqueline's death glare, she thought it was escape or
die. Not a matter of
if
but of
when
. Julia thought
this woman was up to making it seem like it happened by
accident.

A tragic reality.

Of Jacqueline's making.

*

Region One

Marcus had hoped that Jacqueline would not feel
that she had to make an appearance. As usual, her timing was
impeccable, she arrived just as the vampire pyre was in a hot
tangle, Paul offsetting the smell with whatever floral combination
he normally used for offensive scents.

Of course, it wasn't typical to wage vampire
battles on the Blood Singer grounds. Where there were some
supernaturals, there would surely be more.

Jacqueline looked at the fire burning robustly.
“Who is masking the dead?”

Paul threw up a pale hand, his face still locked
down in a mask of stern lines.

“Why did you receive vampires here? Where are
your guards?”

Good question,
Julia thought. She was
more than a little relieved that the melting vampires were enough
of distraction to keep Jacqueline's focus off her.

For the moment.

Marcus sighed and looked at Julia's two Singer
guards. The ones that had followed her into the edges of the
forest. Suddenly, Julia understood that if it'd been night, the two
would not have been sufficient to keep her from harm. Those vamps
would have had her.

And where was William? Julia wasn't feeling the
pain any more. She knew that Scott wasn't either. She shoved the
empathetic connection away for the tenth time that day, her eyes
looking over the newcomers.

The Combatant. Her Singer guard. There was one
in there that would be her real soulmate. That was something she
didn't want to stick around to find out who.

It could be Scott. What had Marcus said? Oh
yeah,
The blood chose
. Julia looked down at the lace-like
bluish veins on the underside of her own wrist, the pulse pushing
the skin up in a steady rhythm. From the outside, it looked like
everyone else's skin, veins.

Julia knew now that it wasn't. She was something
else. Someone else. Prisoner of a destiny she didn't want.

“They came for her,” Jacqueline said, throwing a
palm in Julia's direction, then jerking her head toward the
fire.

“They did. She has a blood-binding to a
vampire.”

“Magnificent, Marcus. When were you planning to
reveal that? The Blood Rite cannot be rushed. It must take place
when she is at the perfect juncture of her Awakening.”

Yeah, if I lived that long
, Julia
thought.

Julia looked at Jacqueline then gave Marcus a
narrow glance. She just loved the hell out of finding out important
information like this. If anyone could just tell her everything at
once, she could sort it out as she went. Instead, Julia had to hear
it from Scott's semi-crazy egg donor parent.

Great.

Who obviously was a Big Julia Fan. As evidenced
by all the warm greetings.

A huge guy came up behind Jacqueline and said,
his eyes on the darkest corner of the forest's edge, “Jacqueline,
let us move this discussion somewhere private.” Victor's eyes
sweeping the Singers that filled the yard, there were so many that
the crowd of them almost touched the small lake where Julia had
watched the swans only a week ago.

It seemed like forever ago when she was taken
and subjected to... all that she had been through, her mind
recoiling from the events of the recent past.

Marcus sighed, he'd hoped this day would never
come. Yet, it had. Here were mother and son, the Combatant
offspring manifested in the very outcome they'd hoped for when the
coupling had been arranged. Marcus knew that in Scott's heart, Ruth
was the only mother he'd ever known. That his cold natural mother
from Region Two would not be someone he would be close to. If it
had been allowed, Marcus would have bowed out. The arranged matings
were archaic and dehumanizing.

Of course, Singers weren't exactly human. That
had been made abundantly clear when Marcus had made mention of his
discomfort with the event.

It had been soundly dismissed.

He looked at Scott standing in front of Julia
like a looming human shield of protection, thinking of how he'd
morphed into Combatant form during the battle with the vampires and
hoped for everyone's sake that her blood chose him. Marcus didn't
think that Scott would have the stomach to watch her with another.
It was the height of irony that Scott had abhorred the idea of a
union, a connection that would rob him of his perceived freedoms.
But now, looking at the possessive way he stood behind Julia, he
presumed that way of thinking had seen a complete turnaround.

There had not been a Combatant manifestation in
Marcus' lifetime and he'd only heard of the Coming of the Circle
from his father. However, now it was here, in the present and real
time, he could see it was not a light and simple thing.

When Victor took Julia's hand and she reacted,
Marcus understood the circle would not close without strife.

Julia could see that she'd be a part of some
kind of weird receiving line of sorts and stood there as the huge
Singer warriors filed past. It was unnerving at best. At worst, it
was embarrassingly awkward.

She could sense Scott trying not to growl at her
back.

Out of everything she'd ever experienced, up to
and including her parents' death, this was the weirdest thing of
all.

They treated her formally, also strange as
hell.

The Combatant were trained, nervous of the small
female that stood before them. She was the peacekeeper of the
Singers. Their future, the one who might be responsible for
unifying the species. So there would be no more war nor strife.

It was a lot for Julia to take in: as the
vampire burned in a bonfire, nine Singer warriors took her hand and
lifted it to their mouths, pressing her small hand against their
lips. Not against the back of her hand but at the inside of her
wrist.

Where her blood flowed and her pulse beat.

When the ninth lifted her hand to bring it to
his mouth, his eyes met hers and there was a brief flare in his.
Then his mouth was against her wrist and the world tilted, heat
rising from her feet to a tingling crescendo of warmth that made
the hair lift on her head.

Julia felt like she was on fire.

The man jerked as if stung, dropping her hand
and rubbed his own against his slacks.

He didn't look like a warrior, he looked like a
GQ model. All chiseled jaw with deep eyes and long sooty lashes,
eye color unknown, the gloom sucking away the finer details of
coloring.

Julia hugged herself, trying to get over the
sensation that bordered on a static charge. And she was the plug.
She shivered and Scott drew her in against him.

Julia let him while never taking her eyes off
the newcomer.

Jacqueline smiled. It looked cruel on her face.
Julia wondered if there was any other expression that she owned. So
far, Julia had only seen varying degrees of the one in front of
her.

Jacqueline pivoted to Marcus, triumphant and
sure. “You saw?”

Marcus nodded, his heart giving a sickening
lurch.

Victor's face took on a dawning look of
horror.

“Perfection. Victor... you are more than
advisor.” Jacqueline looked at him slyly, loving the moment, Julia
could tell. She was waiting for Jacqueline to jump and down,
shouting and clapping with glee. Julia suddenly knew what Cyn would
have thought of her: Royal Bitch. She was royal alright. Just not
the way she thought of herself. Julia hid her smirk with
difficulty.

“My advisor is also Combatant,” she finished in
a purr.

“It looks like that's not all he is,” Michael
announced in a sullen tone.

“Yeah,” Jen agreed forlornly. Even she felt bad
for Scott. Of all the Combatants to manifest... why did it have to
be Victor? Pretty boy Advisor to the ice queen. It was a terrible
outcome. Jen gave Scott a sympathetic look.

Scott held Julia while he wanted to scream his
frustration. His horrible natural mother, who governed with a
control that bordered on abuse and was certainly on the soft side
of sane, had somehow managed to put a Combatant in place as her
right hand man. Had she suspected? Had Victor been aware?

Scott stared Victor down and he returned the
glare with one of his own.

It didn't matter. Scott was holding what
mattered. No other male was going to get a hold of Julia.

No Were.

Or Vampire.

Singer.

No one would have Julia but him.

If destiny had pulled the rug out from
underneath him, then he'd pick up the pieces that belonged to
him.

In this case he knew what belonged to him.

Julia.

Cyn

Cyn awoke with her mind a cluttered, cobwebby
attic of confusion. She'd been... she struggled through the mess,
and the memories came crashing into her. Her eyes popped open as
she watched a ceiling fan do its lazy circuit above her.

Mesmerized she sat up, the sheet falling to her
waist. Cynthia jumped, grabbing at herself. A long breath of relief
shuddered out of her when she realized she was still in her clothes
from yesterday.

The cop.

The Weres.

Cynthia hopped out of the bed and threw her hand
out to steady herself as the blood rushed from her head.

Holy smokes
, Cynthia thought,
where in
the blue blazes was she?

“
Hey,” a flat voice said from
the dimmest corner of the room.

Cynthia staggered back, hand
to her chest, her heart trying to escape. “Who the hell are
you
?”