Lord of the Vampires

CHAPTER NINE

NICOLAI’S MORPH FROM tender lover to savage vampire warrior shocked Jane back to her senses. She was naked—ripped panties didn’t count—and her camp had just been invaded. By giants. Four of them.

All four were eyeing her up and down like a barbecued slab of ribs—and they were starving vegetarians.

One by one, they confirmed her thoughts.

“Ugly,” the tallest said, the g prolonged.

“Hideous.”

“Fat.”

“Woman,” the shortest said. He was probably six-five.

The rest of them shrugged, the universal sign for I guess she’ll do. Apparently Odette and Laila looked a lot alike, but sex was sex. They might find her repellant, but they’d still do her. Their gazes dipped and glued to her nipples, saliva dripping from the corners of their mouths.

Vegetarians now converted into carnivores.

Jane shuddered. The best thing about her robe, she decided then, was the ease of donning it. She grabbed the material still hanging from the limb where she’d draped it and jerked it over her head. Boom, done. She was dressed and ready to face the newest hazard in her life.

She’d expected to battle Laila’s guards at some point, but as she snatched up two of her wooden daggers, she realized the giants weren’t as humanoid as the guards had been. Their eyes were bright red, like twin crimson suns rising from the pits of hell. Sharp, fanglike teeth, bared now, still dripping, dripping, forked tongues flicking out and swiping over reptile-thin lips. Wide shoulders, with black wings arching above them. Rather than nails, they possessed claws.

Somehow, she recognized them as she’d recognized the forest. They were straight out of her darkest nightmares and deep down she knew these creatures were savage, mindless. And Nicolai was going to fight them? He drank from you. He’s strong enough.

Please be strong enough.

He snarled a sound of pure menace, his scary animal nature racing back to the forefront. “Mine.” He stopped just in front of them, daring them to act.

He was weaponless, his torso bare. His poor back was as scarred as her front. Not from a whip or an accident, she didn’t think. There was a wide circular mass of scar tissue, raised and puckered, in the center of his back, as if someone had carved out the patch of skin.

He was a survivor. Like her. He could take these men—and win.

“We want woman,” the tallest said. He was clearly the leader. Also, he was as dumb as a box of rocks, because he added, “You give. Now,” and expected Nicolai to rush to obey.

“No,” she and Nicolai said in unison.

“You leave,” another said with a frown, just as clearly not understanding why Jane wasn’t being given to him.

“She please us. You live.”

“No,” Jane told them with a shake of her head. “You leave.” Simple words they might understand. “And you will live.”

They ignored her.

“Leave,” one said to Nicolai. “Last chance.”

Another said, “You look like someone. Who?” He shook his head, already losing interest in the question. “No matter. Give woman. We keep.”

So. Her will meant nothing. Rape was on their menu du jour. “Rip them to shreds,” she told Nicolai.

He didn’t reply. He simply leaped forward and raked his claws—claws, longer and sharper than theirs!—along the face of the tallest, the biggest threat, sending the giant stumbling backward.

The grunt of pain that followed was like the starting bell to a UFC match. No rules, just pain.

The five males swarmed together in a tangle of limbs, fangs, blood and adrenaline. The blood, well, that sent Nicolai into an animalistic frenzy. He snarled like a panther, bit like a shark and held on to whatever he clamped his teeth into like a pit bull.

Jane knew better than to interfere. When she’d switched the focus of her work to the human body, hoping to find a cure for her mother, she’d learned quite a bit about physical reactions. A man worked into a rage was completely unaware of his surroundings. The chemicals shooting through his bloodstream would keep Nicolai on a short leash, the end of that leash bound to these giants, where only killing mattered.

So she stood there, and she watched, silently cheering for her man.

Not yours, she forced herself to add. Not completely, and not yet. She could share her body with him, her mind, but her heart and soul? No. Not when there was a chance the magic would fade and she would return home. Worse, if he fell in love with her, he would wither and die if she left him.

Oh…damn. She’d forgotten about that. Such a terrible fate had befallen several of the vampires brought to her lab. She couldn’t let that happen to Nicolai.

She brushed the depressing, worrisome thoughts aside. No distractions, not now. The fight escalated quickly, the violence seemingly unparalleled. Someone’s arm flew past her head—and it wasn’t attached to a body.

Just then, Nicolai was walking death. His expression, what few times she glimpsed it, considering how quickly he was moving, was cold. He lacked mercy, never once pulling his punches. He went for the throat, vital organs and groin. Had the giants been human, they would have fallen to his superior power within seconds. But each time he dropped one to the ground, or tore off a limb, the bastard got up for more.

That only revved Nicolai’s engine. The lethal grace of him…Jane was riveted, even shocked. Oh, she’d known he was capable of this. There, inside the palace, hatred and determination had radiated from him. And guts had spilled across the floor. Had he not rescued her, he would have stayed until every living being had died by his hand. Or teeth. That, she’d known.

But this man, this warrior, had also given her sizzling pleasure. He’d feasted between her legs, and he’d loved doing it. She thought he might have enjoyed it as much as she had. And, oh, he’d set her blood on fire, thrilled her to her very soul, ensuring both of them existed only for passion. That had happened minutes ago. Mere minutes ago. Now he was a being capable of rendering pain, only pain.

And all too soon the giants learned to anticipate his moves. They bit at him with their too-sharp saber teeth. They swiped their claws at him, cutting him deep. They spun around him, above him, using their wings to slice at him. Nicolai was forced to jump between them and use his momentum to kick at them. They stumbled, but again, they always rose.

She would have to do something, after all. Nicolai would tire soon, surely. He was losing blood, crimson streaking down his chest where he’d been scratched. How should she—?

In less than a heartbeat of time, strong, trunklike arms banded around her, one just above her breasts, the other around her waist, and jerked her into a thick body. Fear bombarded her, nearly paralyzing her. Then fight-or-flight kicked in—as did a reminder that she held two daggers. Fight won.

She slammed her elbow backward, hitting her attacker in the stomach, meaning to turn and stab. He grunted, but held tight, and she wasn’t able to twist around. She opened her mouth to scream. Before even the slightest sound left her, her mind shouted, You can’t distract Nicolai.

The giant—and she knew a giant held her—dragged her backward, but she didn’t allow herself to struggle.

Perhaps they weren’t as dumb as she’d first thought. This one had known to hang back, to wait, to watch, and grab her while everyone else was preoccupied. Were any others waiting in the shadows?

How would she fight them all?

A cold rage of her own infused her. Thankfully no one else appeared, and when Nicolai and company were no longer in sight, leaves and branches shielding them, she erupted. Fight. She angled her arms, lifted both of her elbows this time, and then slammed them home. He gave another grunt, finally loosening his hold.

Another angle shift, and she thrust her arms down, using the makeshift daggers. The tips sliced deep into his thighs.

With a howl of pain, he shoved her away from his body. One of the daggers remained lodged, but the other glided free as she stumbled forward. Jane righted herself and whirled around, facing him. This giant was scowling, his fangs dripping with saliva. His red eyes glowed with menace.

“I punish you,” he snarled as he ripped the other dagger free. A flick of his wrist. The sharpened wood clanked on the ground, now useless.

Fight. “Wrong. I’ll punish you.”

That confused him for a moment. He blinked, brows knitting together. Then he shook his head. “No. I punish you.”

Okay. Back to her original assessment. Calling these things dumb as rocks was an insult to the rocks. “Bring it, big boy.” Six months of self-defense lessons were about to pay off.

Or not. She’d never had to use her “skills” in a genuine life-and-death situation.

He stomped toward her, booted feet kicking up dirt with every step, the ground shaking. Blood poured down his pant-covered legs, yet he didn’t limp or even seem to notice his injuries.

When he was within reach, he tried to grab her. She ducked, and when his claws encountered only air, she twisted and stabbed. This time, her dagger sank into his middle. Another howl rent the air. Before she could dart out of the way this time, his fingers were fisting her hair and pushing her face-first into the dirt.

Seriously? Over that quickly? Oh, hell, no! She rolled into a ball before he could pin her with his massive weight, maneuvered to her back and worked her legs between their bodies. She pushed. He didn’t budge an inch. Damn it!

Think, Parker. She still had one of the daggers. She stabbed again, going for his neck. He reared back. Too late. Contact, just not where she’d hoped. His cheek split open, and blood poured.

He flashed his saber-fangs as he snarled.

“Punish.” Then he was leaning down, those fangs sinking into her neck. This bite lacked the pleasure and heat of Nicolai’s. This one provided only pain. So much pain.

He thought to drain and weaken her. A mistake on his part, she thought darkly, steeling herself against every ache and throb. He’d left himself wide-open. Before her mind could fog from blood loss, she wilted into the ground. Either he assumed that she had been properly subdued or that she’d passed out. His fingers left her hair to move to her breasts and squeeze.

She struck, finally slamming the dagger into his jugular, all the way to the other end. His entire body spasmed, his fangs locking down tight.

Okay, reassessment time. This was pain. She nearly screamed from the intensity of it.

There was no dislodging him, even when he sagged against her. His weight shoved the air from her lungs. She lay there, trying to catch her breath, his blood pouring over her.

For a moment, she was transported back to her car. Her mother dying, her blood dripping onto Jane. Both of them crying, because they knew the others were already gone. Unsavable.

I love you, Janie.

I love you, Mom.

Something sharp dug into her scalp, ripping strands of her hair. Her body was pulled out from under the giant. His teeth had still been buried deep, and the movement caused his fangs to tear through skin and vein, leaving teeth tracks down her neck, chest and stomach.

Another scream fought its way from her throat. Still can’t risk distracting Nicolai. His battle royale hadn’t ended. Otherwise, he would have been here. And she knew it wasn’t Nicolai who had grabbed her, even before bright, crimson eyes were glowing down at her. Nicolai would have been gentle, would have tried to soothe her.

“Woman. Ugly. I will bed, anyway.”

Peachy. Her eyesight fogged. Had this guy escaped Nicolai, or was he new? Even if she’d had twenty-twenty vision just then, she doubted she would have been able to tell. One hideous monster was the same as any other, she supposed.

“I’m a…princess,” she said, trying anything to scare him. “Princess…Odette. Of Delfina. You have to…let me go.”

Like the caveman he was, he continued to drag her through the dirt. Twigs and rocks scratched at her scabbed back, and she winced. Soon her robe was in tatters and tears burned her eyes.

She tried again, even as the fog migrated to her mind. “My mother…queen…will kill—”

“Witch queen not my queen. No queen. Only king.” He rounded a corner and the new angle hurt worse. “He have you.”

Extra peachy. “You’re taking me…to your king?”

“After.”

After. The same word she’d once thrown at Nicolai, while he’d been chained and helpless. Never again. After was now stricken from her vernacular. “You keep this up…and I’ll be dead…before we get there.”

A confused silence. Then a triumphant, “You not dead. You alive.”

Box. Of. Rocks. “Pick me up…stupid shit. Carry me.”

The simple order worked. He stopped, swooped down and hefted her up—over his shoulder, fireman style, squashing her stomach into her kidneys, but hey, anything was better than leaving a trail of scabs and blood on the ground. A trail Nicolai didn’t need. Wherever this brute took her, Nicolai would find her. He’d marked her, he’d said. And thank God he had.

She and her abductor ran into another giant along the way, and stopped. An angry conversation ensued. She caught words like king and now, and curses so dark her ears were probably bleeding. Just like the rest of her.

Didn’t take a genius to figure out the problem. Word of a female’s capture had already spread to the king. Ugh-O here was not to sample her goods. He was to bring her in and allow the king to decide her fate, as well as become the first to rape her.

Come on, Nicolai. Where are you?

Ugh-O leaped back into motion, the messenger remaining close to his side, not trusting him to obey. Or maybe not. Maybe she was the glue that held them together. A few times, the bastard reached out and patted her ass. This always angered the hell out of Ugh-O, and he would swat at the offending appendage, jarring her.

In fact, his footfalls were so heavy, she slammed up and down, losing her breath over and over again. By the time they reached a twisted maze of caverns, she was convinced her lungs were flat as pancakes, and her intestines were wrapped around her spine.

Even with her still-dimming eyesight, she watched for Nicolai, hoping to catch a glimpse of him shadowing the beast, ready to strike. While she did spy other beings following her captor—little things with wings, darting through the air, and wolflike creatures skulking around the trees—none of them were the vampire.

And when she heard a roar, pain-filled and broken, echoing in every direction, she wanted to vomit. That had been Nicolai’s voice. What the hell were the giants doing to him?

Then the sound cut off abruptly, and she found the silence was even more disturbing than the roar. Had the giants just…killed— No! No, no, no. But what if…?

Oh, God. A sob caught in her throat. If he lived, he would have come for her.

She was his, he’d said so. Many times. And somehow, he was hers. She barely knew the man but she felt something deep and inexorable for him.

Only minutes before, she’d thought her heart and soul safe from his appeal, her mind too concerned with the danger to him. Now, as she was dragged to the unknown, death a possibility, when she thought him dead, the truth hit her.

Her heart and soul had never been safe.

Nicolai fascinated her. He was bossy and arrogant, yet protective when it mattered. He was a killer with a lover’s hands. In his arms, she’d come alive, had been utterly undone. He was already a part of her. In her blood, her head, her everything. So, no. No, no, no. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be.

Whatever had been done to him, he would heal. He had to heal. His roar had probably cut off because he’d passed out or something. Yes, that was it. And since he healed when he slept, that was a good thing.

Right?

The beast had to duck to enter one of the caverns, and she forced herself to concentrate. The hallways were narrow, suffocating. Footsteps echoed as he marched, creating a symphony of terror in her mind. She attempted to memorize the path he took, but it was difficult. So many turns, so dizzying. Alice’s rabbit hole, she thought with a humorless laugh.

Finally they reached a spacious chamber bursting with more of those winged giants. Murmurs of approval abounded the moment she was spotted, and those approvals swiftly mutated into lusty catcalls. Growling, stiff with anger, Ugh-O tossed her atop a pallet in the center.

Jane scrambled to her feet. More waves of dizziness accompanied the action, and she swayed. When her vision cleared, she spun in a circle, studying her new surroundings. A throne of glittering crystal grew directly from the wall. That throne would have made a majestic sight, if not for the bare-chested maniac seated on top of it.

His nose was so far out of place, the left side rested against his cheek. One of his eyes was missing, and there was a hole in his bottom lip, as if one of his saber teeth had punched right through. His chest was a mass of scars, like slices of roast beef that had been glued together—but the glue hadn’t held.

At least twenty others stood beside him, guarding him. All eyes were on her, bright red lasers she couldn’t escape. Sweat dripped between her breasts, even as her blood chilled. Not one of these creatures would aid her. They all wanted, and expected, a turn.

In fact, only two people in the room were uninterested in her presence. The only other females. Both were naked, old and wrinkled, unwashed, with straggly hair and dead eyes. They’d been well used, multiple times, and were covered in bite marks and bruises. No wonder these guys were so hot for the repulsive “Odette.”

Footsteps behind her caused her to spin. More dizziness, intent on lingering. Only when it passed did she realize these were the men who had attacked Nicolai. They were bloody, limping, missing a few body parts and barely breathing, but they were here.

“Where’s my vampire?” she screeched.

Ignoring her, they fell before their king. “Vampire disappear.”

He’d disappeared. That meant he was alive. Thank God. Oh, thank God.

“No fresh meat?” the king asked, speaking up for the first time.

“No fresh meat.”

A rumble of angry muttering sprung from the sovereign, and he waved his fingers toward the men. Four other giants stepped forward, palming swords and swinging before Jane could compute what was going on. Heads rolled, stopping at her feet.

She hunched over and finally vomited. No, not vomited. She dry heaved. There was nothing in her stomach. Laughter and applause abounded as the bodies were gathered up.

“Fresh meat now. Cook,” the king said with a nod of approval. “We dine.”

They were going to eat their own kind. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. She straightened, preparing to run.

Ugh-O settled a hard hand on her shoulder, ending her escape attempt before she’d taken a single step. “I found. I get.”

The king lost his good humor and frowned. “I give you my hag.” He motioned toward one of the old women. The hag in question stepped forward automatically and bowed. “Now give me yours.”

“No. I want the fat one.”

Hisses abounded.

Telling the king no was a crime, she supposed. “Fight,” she suggested, her voice trembling as much as her body. “Fight over me. Winner gets me.” Fingers crossed they killed each other.

That dark frown leveled on her. “Fight, yes. After.” He crooked his finger at her, expecting her to close the distance between them.

After. There was that word again. Gulping, she shook her head. Ugh-O squeezed her shoulder harder, harder still, and she winced.

“Come,” the king demanded, speaking more sharply now. He waved her over, and if she wasn’t mistaken, next waved to his crotch. As if he expected her to jump on board right here, right now.

He probably did. She’d heard the unspoken Or else, and rallied her wits. Come on. I can do this. “Take me to your bedchamber.” Never in her life had Jane attempted to seduce someone who repulsed her, and she mentally cringed at the huskiness of her tone. Better she fight this man alone than with all his people watching—and able to join in. “I’ll do things you’ve only dreamed about.” If your dreams involve strangling on your own intestines.

“Just want your mouth on cock.”

I would rather die. “And I want to put my mouth on your cock.” Lightning, strike me down. Please. “So let’s go to your bedchamber. Because, and here’s the kicker, I do my best work in private.”

He was on his feet in an instant, stalking toward her.