Sigma

Chapter 3

Sam ground his teeth at Clementine’s stubbornness and hovered around her in case she fell.

Blood soaked the back of her pink t-shirt and dripped, leaving a gruesome trail as she walked along the exterior balcony toward their motel room on the second floor. “You paid with cash like I told you?” She weaved on unsteady feet.

“Yes, ma’am.” He barely had enough money in his wallet to buy a soda now. “No credit card to track.” He reached out to grab her elbow, but she swatted his fingertips. Reflexively, he shook the sting away. “Playing tough and insisting on walking doesn’t get you brownie points if you pass out.”

He unlocked and opened their room door. The scent of cheap air freshener and stale sweat swept over him. He turned and sneezed.

“Bless you.”

He wiped his mouth. “Thanks.” Wasn’t there some supernatural law against vampires being polite?

“It smells odd in here.” She leaned against the door frame and pointed to the faded yellow bed. “Can you pull off the blanket?”

“We got what we paid for, a cheap-ass room. At least they don’t charge by the hour.” He winked and did as Clementine asked, then watched as she crawled onto their bed, lying on her stomach. “What can I do to help?” The deep red stain continued to spread under his scrutiny. “When Daedalus was staked, he didn’t bleed like this.”

She twisted around and whispered, “You were there?” With her blue eyes wide, she appeared very young, but vampires were experts at fooling people. Clementine could be five hundred years old, for all he knew. With a wig, Daedalus looked twenty, younger than Sugar. He chuckled at the memory and recalled the expression of horror on Sugar’s face. “It happened in my old apartment.”

“You’re one of the original Omegas?”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.” They’d had five pack members at the beginning, before Daedalus came and changed everything. Now they numbered in the triple digits and were called the Vasi. He pointed at her wound. “Can you bleed to death?”

She rolled back onto her stomach. “No, but I’ll need to feed before the blood lust takes over me. You have to remove the bullet.”

He grabbed the edge of her shirt and tore it open, exposing her back.

She hissed and glared at him over her shoulder. “I could have taken it off.”

Pasting mock surprise on his face, he laid a hand on his chest. “Where’s the fun in that?” Not waiting for her response, he went into the bathroom and washed off his pocketknife. A pair of tweezers would have been handy. And some gauze. He grabbed a face cloth instead. “Do I need to sterilize my knife or find some antiseptic?”

“I’m a vampire. Disease doesn’t plague us.”

He shrugged off her prickly tone, betting she was as gentle as the sound of her name on his lips. “Good, because I can’t provide either.” On his knees, he straddled her legs and leaned forward to examine her wound. He planted his palm between her shoulder blades.

“What–” She struggled under him. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to move.” Using his shifter strength, he shoved her flat against the bed and wiped the blood away. “Stop wiggling so much. It’s distracting.”

“Not like you can do more damage.” Her words came out muffled.

“No, but you’re turning me on.”

She went limp, her breathing heavy and strained.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. This shitty day was getting better. Using the tip of the pocketknife, he gently probed her wound. “Tell me if it hurts.” The hole in her flesh was deep. It appeared as if her backbone had absorbed the impact of the bullet. Damn, vampires were tough.

A few years ago, he would have fainted at the idea of digging out bullets from damsels in distress. So much had changed since the small pack of omegas hired a Nosferatu warrior as a teacher.

Eric had become alpha of Chicago and married his high school crush, serious Robert fell in love with a slayer, of all things, and Tyler finally found the balls to ask Katrina to marry him.

And Daedalus stole Sugar’s heart.

Not that Sam had ever owned it. She was better off with the wealthy and powerful vampire. Safer. Sam just fucked everything up.

His heart didn’t belong to anyone but himself.

The knife clinked against metal and Clementine jerked.

He wiped the area clean to get a better visual. “The bullet’s entrenched, but I should be able to ease it out with a few simple cuts. This will hurt. Maybe I should call Daedalus first and have him knock you out with some Nosferatu mental voodoo.”

She laughed. A quiet, sorrowful sound that grabbed him low in the gut. “I can take the pain. I don’t need my master to hold my hand.”

There it was again. Master. The title irked him more than it should. From what little he knew of vampire society, most weren’t free. Their masters owned them, kept them under control, so the human population wouldn’t fear and hunt them like the old days. It had never occurred to Sam that Daedalus owned some. Bet the others didn’t think about it either.

Clementine clenched the sheets in her hands. “I’ll do my best not to scream.”

“Don’t worry. In this part of town, they’re used to it.”

As she twisted around to glare at him, he pried the bullet from her flesh and popped it out.

Eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a silent scream exposing her delicate kitten-like fangs, she shuddered under his body.

His heart wrenched at the sight and a wave of nausea rocked him. He didn’t get off on pain. Though, he’d love to see that expression on her face once more, but this time in ecstasy, not agony. He shook his head. He could be a sick bastard sometimes.

Fresh blood pooled in her wound as she squirmed once more. “Get off me.” Her ass bucked against his cock, sending a jolt of lust straight to his balls.

He’d never had a vampire–odd, considering his low standards. As long as it was female and willing, he’d bed anyone once. Letting his fingers trail along her skin, he held her down a little longer. A small subliminal suggestion of what he could offer.

“Asshole.” She rolled him off with a sharp twist of her hips.

He fell next to her. “At your service.” Sticks and stones couldn’t break his bones, and name-calling wouldn’t hurt him.

Clutching her tattered shirt to her chest, she sat on the edge of the bed and dialed the room phone. “Master?”

Sam moaned and rested his forearm over his eyes. It was better for her to explain what happened. He didn’t need to hear more bitching from the Nosferatu.

“We’re at Motel Twelve by the park. Sam’s car wouldn’t start and I was too injured to walk.” She remained silent, listening. “My car was too damaged to drive.”

Squeezing his eyes tight, he kept quiet. God, he hadn’t even thought to take her car. It didn’t seem in that bad of condition. He peeked at her. She’d lied for him.

“Sam’s taking good care of me. The bullet is out and he’s offered to feed me.” She raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

He nodded, a little dumbfounded. Gratitude and shame knotted his chest, considering only a few minutes ago he’d been thinking of her as just a possible fuck.

“Okay, we’ll be here.” She hung up. “Daedalus will come as soon as he has Sugar settled at home.”

What was with the human worship? It sounded like a party in the background as she’d spoken with her master. Someone else besides him could watch Sugar for the thirty minutes it would take to retrieve them. The room darkened as her vision tunneled. She gripped the edge of the bed and shook her head.

“Clementine?”

“Lightheaded.” She waved Sam’s hand away. His touch stirred too many unexplainable desires. They’d barely met, under terrible circumstances. However, her skin still tingled wherever he’d touched her.

Closing her eyes made the dizziness worse. How much blood had she lost? She glanced at Sam, who lounged on the bed in his torn clothes. “None of this fazes you, does it? The fighting, the running, the gunshots?”

He shrugged. “A few years ago, it would have. Life’s hard in the pack. It’s adapt or perish.” He eyed her as if trying to figure out what species of bug she belonged to. “Thanks for explaining things to Daedalus. We don’t get along too well. He’s not my biggest fan.”

A hot flush washed over her. From lack of blood or from his gratitude, she wasn’t sure. Drinking from him, pressed against his strong, muscled body, would be a fantasy come true. What female hadn’t dreamed of a wild shifter in bed?

Except when imagination and reality collided, all her hidden insecurities suddenly jumped out and did the conga. She was plain for a vampire: short brown hair, little boobs, too much junk-in-the-trunk. Not exactly a vixen of the night those stupid human movies portrayed.

She needed to feed and Sam had agreed to her backhanded request. Licking her lips, she knelt on the mattress. “Where would you like me to bite?”

A crooked, sensual smile spread across his mouth. “Are you always this polite to your meals, Clementine?”

“Of course. Just because we’re not human doesn’t mean we have to act like monsters.”

He tugged his shirt off, exposing a hard muscled chest, and then lifted his chin, offering her his jugular.

Hunger growled to life in her body. Overpowering. Fast. Bloodlust seized her, and any semblance of control disintegrated as her vision went red.

Rich fluid coated her tongue. Salty and warm, it eased the cramps in her stomach. She sank her teeth deeper into the source of her bliss, and then popped open her eyes.

Swallowing reflexively, the warmth spread from her stomach into her starved system. She lay on top of Sam, his arms and legs sprawled across the bed. She released her clenched bite on his neck. Oh crap, had she killed him? “Sam?” Her voice trembled and she shook his shoulder. How much had she drank?

He still had that sultry smile on his face as he peeked at her under heavy lids. The dark chocolate of his gaze melted over her body. “Hungry?” His flesh healed where she’d bitten him.

Something dripped from her chin. She swiped a hand across her mouth and stared with widening eyes at the blood on her palm. “Merciful heavens, I’m an animal. I’m so sorry.” The apology didn’t cover her horror. She hadn’t lost control since she’d been a fledgling. “The blood loss–it’s been a long time since the lust has gripped me so hard.” Desire to lick her palm almost overwhelmed her. She needed to feed more.

“I’m used to being fed upon. We’re Daedalus’s main source, but I like your style of feeding better.” He ran his hand over her bare spine and quirked an eyebrow at her. “The wound is gone?”

Now that she’d fed, her body healed fast. Tissue had knitted together, growing seamless, smooth skin where her injury had been. “Yes.”

He raised his chin and offered his neck once more. “Better to feed from me than attack the housekeeping.”

She licked her lips. Straddled over Sam’s hips, she couldn’t ignore his erection pressed against the juncture of her thighs. Desire to rock against it swept through her body. Hanging her head, she took a shaky breath. She was in over her head.

He brushed his fingertips over her hair. “Is there someone else?”

She gave a sharp snort of contemp. “No.”

He rose onto his elbows. The motion made her lean back, sliding her pussy over his cock. An electric itch ran over her nerve endings and set butterflies loose in her stomach.

“Do you have someone? Umm…a mate?” She’d sound stupid if that was the wrong word. They didn’t have shifters around Pal Robi, so she had to go by things she’d read in magazines and books.

“No. I’m a bit of a loner.” He rested his hand on her thigh. “I gather you might be more interested in a full course meal than just a snack.”

She stared at his nice-boy-next-door handsome face and the knots in her lower back tightened. Oh hell, when would she ever receive another chance like this? Biting her lower lip, she nodded. She could use a good, no-strings-attached fuck, the kind that left a woman limp and too exhausted to think. And Sam seemed like the kind of male who could provide those things and more.

However, Sam contained all the right amounts of dominance and tenderness that attracted her on so many levels she couldn’t even count them. She’d grow strings. She knew she would. And like he said, he was a loner.

Ever since her master had dragged her into this mess, she’d been on the run. Pal Robi was a security company he’d created, but it was a front for vampire government, a seat of power for the Prime of the northeastern part of America. Some idiot had thought he’d gathered enough supporters to take it away from Daedalus, even sent one of the best slayers after him.

Now, who owned the slayer? Who had a large pack of wolf shifters at his back? And who’d just obtained a list of names of potential traitors on a thumb drive stolen straight from Pal Robi computers by little old her?

Daedalus would triumph. He always did because he took risks such as helping a pack of omega shifters. Maybe it was about time she took one too.

She rocked her hips, rubbing Sam’s hard cock against her more sensitive areas. “Yes, I think I deserve a full course meal–and dessert.”