Dakotah stumbled to a halt at the spot where she’d discarded her backpack when she made the decision to lure her pursuers into the woods. Confusion reigned, disorientation, but a glance down at her clothing, some of it blood-stained, brought memory rushing back, at least to the point where Domino had growled, “Get out of here.”
Beyond that there was nothing, only the compulsion to leave. Her own? She rubbed her forehead. It’s what she’d intended until Domino fell to the ground.
She fought against the nothingness. Remembered staring into obsidian eyes just before everything was lost.
Fear ripped through her. Anger. Disbelief. Rage when she realized that whatever he’d done to send her away, he’d also done when she would have fought him over being tied. And yet…
She snarled, hating the fact that what he’d done to her had led to pleasure beyond anything she’d ever experienced, beyond anything she’d thought she was capable of feeling after what she’d seen and done in order to survive. It would serve him right if she left him writhing in pain.
She knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Even though it was a weakness. To care. To feel. To not be able to walk away.
Dakotah retrieved her backpack and returned to Domino who’d managed to get to his feet and drag the bodies into the woods, who’d even managed to make it a little way down the trail before going to his hands and knees.
He was sweating, panting, shaking.
And not happy to see her.
“Leave,” he growled, lifting his head, but she wasn’t about to let him capture her mind again.
“Where’s your house? Or your car?” One of them had to be nearby since he’d appeared wearing clothes and not naked from shifting to human form.
Domino forced himself to get to his feet, the wolf urging him to trap her again and give her a more explicit command—knowing that the bloodlust following The Transformation might lead to her death if she was anywhere near the full vampire Domino would soon become. But the man, the dhampir, resisted this time as the pain subsided enough to allow him to think rather than just react.
It was too late now to get to his parents’ home. But if he could get to the house he was renting, there was a chance he could survive The Transformation without becoming rogue. Without succumbing to the full force of The Hunger and leaving a trail of bodies behind as he killed the innocent along with the guilty as he fed.
If he could get to a place of safety, then he could contact Fane and Fane would come, if not in time to see him through the change, then in time to offer first blood.
Domino grimaced at the thought of Fane’s presence. Of the jokes and taunts he’d no doubt have to endure in the centuries ahead—payback for those he’d often delivered to Fane. But he trusted Fane with his life. He’d stood with Fane and seen him though The Transformation, given him first blood, and he knew Fane wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for him.
If there was time.
Domino could feel the pain building again. Stretching inside him, the alien cells ready for a fresh assault on anything human. He managed to tell Dakotah where he’d parked and gave her directions to the house, allowed her to drape his arm over her shoulder and help him leave the woods, but he was hardly aware of either time or distance as he used what control and will remained in order to keep upright and moving.
He was shifting back and forth between man and wolf, his clothing shredded and hanging off his body by the time Dakotah managed to get Domino into the house and into the bedroom. And as bizarre as the sight was, it was easier for her to deal with than his pain alone.
At first she’d been terrified that he had rabies. But other than panting heavily, the wolf gave no signs of being in distress.
Dakotah shivered as Domino’s human form took shape and began writhing on the bed, gasping. His words incoherent. Her stomach tightened, not only at the sight of his suffering but with the worry that what he was experiencing was something she’d have to endure in the future.
He stilled, seemed to be fighting the pain. “Cuffs. In the dresser,” he gasped, rolling to his side and spearing her with eyes holding something so alien that only instinct kept her from bolting. “Cuffs. Put them on me.” This time it was a hiss.
A chill swept up Dakotah’s spine at the sight of his fangs. She braced herself, expecting hair to begin sprouting on his face and hands, a nightmare image of a werewolf caught in the middle of two forms. Instead his eyes filled with flames, as though his very soul was being burned away. And for an instant there was nothing of either the man or the wolf, nothing except a dangerous, inhuman predator whose intent to kill her was a scream in every cell of Dakotah’s body.
She remained still, focused, knowing that to turn her back was to accept death. And as she watched, the flames receded, the man gritting his teeth as a wave of agony ripped through his body.
Escape was a fleeting thought, turned aside. Dakotah rushed to the dresser, rapidly tossing the contents of its drawers onto the floor as she looked for the cuffs he’d fought so hard to tell her about.
She found them, but the sight of the cuffs had her trembling, reluctant to touch them. They were silver, studded with some type of gem, bloodstone maybe. But the silver alone was enough to make her break out in a sweat. To make her hands clench and unclench as she steeled herself to touch them.
She shuddered, remembering the red cast of Domino’s eyes, then forced herself to take the cuffs from their velvet-lined case, to endure when a burning numbness spread through her as she returned to the bed.
He snarled and hissed as she fumbled to get the first band around his wrist. Tried to escape when she went to do the second, so that she moved to his ankles and secured them, then waited until he was bucking in pain, barely aware of her presence as she secured the last band.
Horror raged through Dakotah with sharp talons, tearing her up on the inside as she watched his suffering, watched as his back arched and spasmed so violently that she thought it would break, his arms and legs paralyzed by the silver and bloodstone.
In the nightmare that was her life before she killed Victor Hale’s son and escaped, she’d been paid to inflict pain, had mastered the art of wielding a whip or a paddle, of taking those she was forced to serve to the destination they desired. She’d learned to close her mind to their screams, their suffering, to watch it mechanically and alter her techniques as necessary, to take some of them to the edge of death itself—and feel nothing during the process.
But Domino’s suffering tore through her. Frightened her. Made the wolf pace and whine while the woman found tears she wouldn’t have believed she still possessed running down her cheeks.
With the bands on he remained in human form, alternating between periods of pain and brief moments when he lay panting, his body coated in sweat, seemingly focused inward, unaware of her presence.
She didn’t know whether he’d appreciate her touch or not, but she couldn’t remain in the room with him and do nothing. When he stilled again, she moved to the bathroom and wet a hand towel, then returned, wiping the sweat from his chest first though he hissed and jerked, nearly catching her in gleaming obsidian eyes when she looked at his face.
Dakotah managed to break away, her heart thundering in her chest at the reminder of his ability to hypnotize. He’d been unaware of her before, but now she could feel the intensity of his gaze as she retreated to the bathroom. It burned into her, causing primal instinct to roar to the surface and urge her to run. Even the wolf danced nervously inside her, though it insisted she stay.
Just as her own conscience did.
Dakotah closed her eyes for a moment, willing that conscience away. She didn’t need this. She didn’t owe him anything. And if she did, she’d paid him back by not walking away and leaving him in the woods.
She had her own set of problems. If the men Victor Hale sent after her managed to take her alive… Fuck.
Dakotah rinsed the cloth and turned, stepping back into the bedroom, her heart thundering as adrenaline surged through her at the sight of the silver bands lying on an empty bed.
She dropped the moistened cloth and took a step toward the bedroom door as the air around her seemed to thicken with deadly menace. The threat so real that even the wolf wanted to flee.
But there was no time to escape.
No time even to react as Domino shimmered into existence and attacked.
There was only The Hunger.
The wild rush as blood poured into starving cells.
There was no man. No wolf.
Only a host form feeding.
A drive to survive, because survival was the only thing that mattered.
The Hunger ruled unchecked, unchallenged, until The Heat rose, reshaping the savagery, allowing the man and the wolf to emerge and take possession of the shell, though both man and wolf burned with the twin flames of Heat and Hunger.
The wolf was the first to react. To recognize that its mate was dying and protest with its entire being and will.
The man acted, using his fangs to rip into his wrist before pressing it against silken lips, his voice a command that had to be obeyed. “Drink.” And with each swallow the flames receded, surrendering, leaving the wolf yipping with pleasure and Domino staring down at Dakotah, denying the truth to himself even as she opened her eyes and his cock surged to life so that he could fuck his bride.
“Leave,” he growled, ignoring what both the wolf and his body told him. Determined not to fall into the neatly laid out trap beneath him. One fuck was all it would take to bind himself to her sexually.
Too late, the wolf claimed but Domino refused to believe it. He rolled off Dakotah, eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring when he saw the mark on her neck where he’d bitten her.
A howl of denial formed in his mind, blending with the wolf’s howl of joy, the chorus bringing The Heat to life so only sheer force of will kept him from pouncing on Dakotah, from pulling her down and underneath his body when she scrambled to her feet and backed away from him, intent on doing as he’d commanded and leaving.
Dakotah was beyond fear. Beyond even shock.
Vampire.
The single word ricocheted around and around in her thoughts. Even his scent had changed, reminding her of the man who’d claimed Sarael, though the wolf’s familiar presence was blended with the cold, alien taint that now identified Domino.
Fire burned through Dakotah’s veins. Need, despite the fact he’d very nearly killed her.
But she had no intention of giving in to the wolf’s yearning or her own body’s demands. She had no intention of taking a chance and becoming vampire. The wolf she could accept, had learned to accept, but she wouldn’t lose the rest of her humanity. She wouldn’t lose what little control she had over her life. His command echoed through her, this time done without hypnotism, and yet she had to obey, knew instinctively that if they shared more blood, his will would rule. He would become The Emperor of the cards.
Bile rose in Dakotah’s throat as the fortune-teller’s words rang with finality. Another change awaits you. This time at the hands of a man unlike any you have known before. A man who wants your life, not your death. But just as she’d counseled Sarael, Dakotah refused to believe the reading held the only truth. She grabbed her knapsack from where she’d dropped it just inside the front door and rushed into the night, determined to put as much distance between herself and Domino as she could.
She headed in the direction of the campground, memories pressing in on her as she loped along the edge of the woods. Memories of another night, another man who’d attacked her—changed her—dying in the process.
A growl escaped. Her lips pulling back in a snarl as feral hatred filled her.
Not for Domino.
The wolf wouldn’t allow that, and Dakotah wouldn’t lie to herself.
Domino had commanded her to leave when they were in the woods but she’d gone back. She’d chosen to involve herself—forgotten a lifetime of painful lessons—and paid a price for it. Though she couldn’t guess what the true cost was yet.
Her blood burned. Her body burned.
Each step away from Domino was an act of will. A test of resolve. Making her push herself until finally she halted, lungs burning and sides aching from running.
Fuck! What was she going to do now?
The wolf was rioting inside her. Fighting her as it hadn’t fought since those early days. The days after she’d been taken from her prison in Atlantic City and delivered to Anthony Hale’s estate at the edge of the Pine Barrens.
Despite her value, the money she brought in for services rendered, men didn’t say no to the Hale family. Men didn’t ask questions about the women taken to Anthony’s estate and never seen again.
The feral hatred for Anthony Hale—and his father—was a wildness inside Dakotah. A living thing, fed by something alien…something she’d gained from Domino’s blood.
Not a thirst for revenge. Anthony Hale was dead. But a primordial need to hunt her enemy, to invade his home and destroy him. To kill Victor Hale.
Dakotah forced the thoughts away. Attacking Victor Hale would be suicide. She’d been running since she was taken to his son’s home.
She’d thought Anthony was just another sick pervert when he’d shown her into the den, his smile vicious as he’d said, “I’ve got a little entertainment planned. You can take off your clothing or leave it on. Either way, you’re going to get fucked in a way you’ve never been fucked before.”
When he left her alone, she’d found the hidden cameras and more—a weapon for herself in the pokers next to the fireplace.
She’d braced herself for anything. Except for the sight of the door being opened and a wolf entering the room, its penis extending beyond its foreskin.
It attacked without hesitation, ripping at her clothing and leaving her bleeding, fighting to keep from becoming someone else’s sick entertainment. The drive to not only save herself but to escape had been the sole focus, the years of “disciplining” clients giving her the strength and knowledge—the rage—to wield the fireplace poker with deadly efficiency and aim.
The wolf collapsed, blood and bone and brain oozing onto the carpet as its form altered and Anthony Hale lay at her feet.
She’d escaped. Or thought she had.
You have died and been reborn into a different person.
A grim smile settled on Dakotah’s face. Death, the card of her past. The fortune-teller got that one right.
She forced herself to straighten and keep walking. Forward. Toward the campground, though it was a struggle to keep from turning around, from going back, from giving in to the voice that said there was no changing the truth of what had happened between Domino and her. What had happened between their wolves.
Dakotah hoped Domino was suffering as much as she was.
The wine glass shattered as Domino slammed it against the kitchen counter in frustration. The herbs weren’t helping to still the clamoring. To silence the insidious whisper of The Hunger urging him to leave the house and hunt as it tried to regain what it had lost when The Heat rose in Domino.
But Domino wasn’t so arrogant in his confidence that he would risk becoming rogue. If he hunted this night, it would end in death. A human’s first, but perhaps his own in the end.
He knew the sweet ecstasy of killing as he fed, he knew how hard it was to resist the temptation to take everything. How the beat of any human heart would beckon and tempt. Tonight, it would be nearly impossible to resist The Hunger.
The Transformation had left him vulnerable. Dakotah’s absence made it worse. If he left the house, the herbs he’d ingested wouldn’t hold against the bloodlust.
Wild emotion raged through Domino, stripping him of his ability to deny the truth. Whether it was the mating of their wolves or the fact that he’d taken her in the woods immediately before The Transformation and the sharing of blood—it didn’t matter. What shouldn’t be—was. The very trap he’d planned to avoid had caught him unprepared.
He’d bound himself to her sexually.
A hiss escaped as he thought about her out in the night—drawing men to her with the pheromone lure she would gain from his blood. Free to fuck them if she wanted to while his cock would now fill only for her.
He hadn’t wanted the responsibility of a kadine, had thought he’d rather enjoy the pleasures to be found in a thousand different pussies, but now… The Heat made him crave and ache for only one. It promised fulfillment beyond anything he could imagine as the blueprint designed by his alien ancestors unfolded and Dakotah was at its center.
Fuck!
A snarl escaped as his cock responded to the word. As his mind flooded with images of what they’d already done, what he still wanted to do.
Domino pushed away from the counter and reached for his cell phone. Irritation scraping along every nerve ending at the necessity of asking for help.
Dakotah probably shouldn’t have been surprised to see Fane’s sleek black sports car at the campground. He and Cable had been a fixture around the carnival in the days before Sarael left. She’d even teased Sarael about them, though she knew Sarael wouldn’t pursue either man and she wasn’t entirely certain that the men were interested in women. They always smelled of wild sex and darkness. Of each other.
She paused in the shadows, wary as she remembered what else they smelled like. Or at least what Fane’s scent reminded her of. Domino’s. As well as the man who’d hunted for and claimed Sarael.
Dakotah didn’t trust many people, but she trusted Cable. She wasn’t drawn to the pain of others and yet Fane’s was a darkness that filled his soul, reminding her of her own. There’d been times when she’d wondered if Fane’s scent meant he could shift forms, the contrast between the hot beat of a human’s heart and the coldly alien aura making her speculate that if he had another shape, it was something reptile.
She didn’t know the details of either of their lives. She hadn’t asked. The carnival was a refuge, a place to hide, the men and women there all running from something, hiding from something, even if it was just themselves.
As she watched, Fane and Cable emerged from a travel trailer. Laughing, the sight of Fane’s animated face a shock. But not nearly as much of one as seeing the blonde woman between them, her hands held in theirs.
Longing filled Dakotah and she tried to squelch it. Automatically. Ruthlessly. As she’d done for most of her life.
But the longing wouldn’t yield. The fortune-teller’s prophecy and the wolf’s claim pressed in on her with the image of Domino, filled her mind and heart with thoughts and dreams she’d put away long ago. Even before she’d gone to live with her father and his mother. Even before the first of her mother’s never ending string of “boyfriends” tried to molest her.
The door to the travel trailer closed, leaving the others in the yellow glow of a porch light. And as if sensing her presence, Fane’s face turned in Dakotah’s direction. He said something then nuzzled against the woman’s neck before letting her hand go. Rather than climb into the sports car, she slid into the passenger seat of a Suburban while Fane and Cable moved toward Dakotah.
Dakotah’s hands went instinctively to her jacket pockets, curling around the handles of the knives there. The move making Fane’s lips pull back in a flash of teeth that reminded her of Domino.
Surprise rippled through her when the very knives she held concealed in her jacket became an invisible leash, pulling her toward Fane. She knew he was skilled with knives, they’d thrown them at targets, challenging each other in fun as the carnies had gathered to unwind when their booths were closed and their rides shut down for the night.
“We’re all born with talents beyond what’s necessary to survive,” Fane said when she was standing in front of him, reeling with the knowledge that like Domino, Fane’s scent had changed since the last time she saw him, making her guess that he was now a vampire.
“Let me guess, yours is knives.”
“Yes.”
She took her hands out of her pockets and included Cable in her glance. “What are you two doing here?”
Fane’s eyes danced with amusement. “Our bride wished to visit with her friends and the timing was right. Domino called. Apparently he allowed his own bride to escape then thought better of it.”
Dakotah took a step backward but was halted by Cable’s hand on her arm and his sympathetic, caring expression. “You can’t run from this,” he said and she heard the absolute certainty and truth in his voice.
“I can try.”
He shrugged. Smiled slightly, deflating her resolve before it had formed, piercing it with words. “He needs you. Right now he can’t even leave the house for fear of what he might do before he finds you.”
Fane grinned. “A sight I can hardly wait to see for myself.”
“Come back with us, Dakotah,” Cable said. “It’s not safe for you to be away from him.”
“It hasn’t been safe for me for a long time, Cable.”
“It’ll be worse now. His blood has changed you.” Cable grimaced. “Men won’t see the No Trespassing signs you’ve got posted. You’ll be fighting them off wherever you go.”
She frowned in disbelief. “Like I’m doing now?”
“I’m already bound to Fane. Come back to the house with us. There are things you need to know.” Cable squeezed her arm. “Don’t turn this into a fight. You won’t win. You can’t. Not against what Fane and Domino are.”
Fuck. She could hear Cable’s sincerity.
“Just roll over?” she asked, but there was no heat in her words. One of the lessons she’d learned early on was the importance of adapting, compartmentalizing. You didn’t survive otherwise. And sometimes you didn’t survive anyway.
She knew Cable was telling the truth. Her blood burned and with each step she’d taken away from Domino, a knot had formed in her chest, tightening to the point of pain and panic. But what really scared her was that part of her wanted to go back—and not just the part that was wolf.
She’d made it this far by sheer force of will. She believed she could make it even further. She could make it alone. And that was a salve to her pride, along with the knowledge that whatever she and Domino had done to themselves and each other—or more accurately, whatever their wolves had set into motion—he hadn’t asked for it any more than she had.
“I’ll go back with you, but Fane is wrong. I’m not Domino’s bride.”