Rhyannon Byrd - Primal Instinct 05 (36 page)

Then he released his fangs, whispered that he loved
her and made the bite.

The Casus/Kraven Compound

Friday night

A STRING OF HOARSE, guttural swear words whispered
past Kellan Scott’s lips as he paced the confines of his cell. The Lycan had
spent the past twenty-four hours in an interrogation room on the ground floor
of Westmore’s compound, where the Casus had done their best to find out why
he’d traveled into the Wasteland. Between the violent beatings, Kellan had fed
their assumptions that he was after the Dark Markers in their possession,
careful not to show any interest in the whereabouts of the other prisoners. And
it had paid off. Twenty minutes ago, they’d finally taken him downstairs,
shoving him into one of the cold, barren cells that lined an entire wall of the
compound’s underground level. Although the iron bars on the front of the cells
offered a clear view to those standing on the outside, the individual cells
were separated by walls, making it impossible for the prisoners to see each
other.

As he’d passed the first cell, Kellan had spied a
slight female form sleeping on a narrow cot before they’d locked him inside the
adjacent cell, and he assumed she was “the psychic” the Kraven had been talking
about at the camp on Thursday night. All the other cells were empty.

Chloe Harcourt wasn’t there.

Kellan could detect the lingering scent of a female
Merrick in the empty cell on his left, which told him that Chloe had been
staying there. But where the hell was she? Her faint, mouthwatering scent was a
gut-wrenching reminder that he had somehow just missed her despite all he’d
been through. He tried to hold on to his reason and his faltering hope. But it
wasn’t easy. Three days earlier, he’d been bitten by an infected Deschanel.
Although he couldn’t pass the poison on to another, it was slowly spreading
through his system, and he couldn’t control the tension in his aching muscles,
his body flashing between extremes of hot and cold.

“Damn it,” he snarled, under his breath, terrified
that they had taken her someplace with the intention of hurting her. That she
was scared and alone. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and tried to
still the shivers that shook his spine while sweat trickled down the sides of
his face. “Where the hell are you, woman?”

“They haven’t harmed her,” someone murmured, the soft,
raspy voice coming from the cell where the psychic had been sleeping. “They’ve
taken her to be examined by a doctor.”

Wedging himself into the right front corner of his
cell, Kellan wrapped his hands around the iron bars, the metal cold against his
fevered palms. “Why a doctor?” he asked in a hoarse voice, careful to speak
quietly enough that they wouldn’t be overheard by those upstairs. “What
happened to her? Is she hurt?”

“She’s weak, because her awakening Merrick half is
starved for its first feeding,” the female whispered. “Westmore refuses to
allow anyone to touch her, because he’s saving her for someone named Calder. So
they’re going to try to give her the blood she needs intravenously. But it
won’t work.”

“I know,” he rasped, stunned by the knowledge that
Chloe’s awakening had already begun. “When are they bringing her back?”

Silence, and then a soft reply. “Soon.”

“Who are you?” he asked, his unsteady words rough with
fury as he thought of the things the Kraven had been saying about this young
woman. Their crude jokes about the torture and abuse she had suffered since
being captured.

“My name is Raine,” she told him, “and you’ve already
figured out why I’m here. I’m Westmore’s pet psychic.”

“If you’re psychic, can you see the future?” he asked,
swallowing against a dry throat. “Can you tell me what’s going to happen?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, “but my powers don’t work
that way. I can only see the past and the present. But from what I’ve seen, I
can tell you that something bad is coming. A Casus named Gregory is on his way
here to destroy Westmore.”

“Gregory’s an asshole,” Kellan muttered, curling his
busted lip as he leaned his damp forehead against the cell’s cool iron bars,
“but if he wants Westmore, he’s welcome to him. His attack may even serve as a
diversion and give us a chance to escape. I’ll find a way to get both you and
Chloe out of here.”

“I’m afraid it won’t be that simple.”

“Why not? What do you see?”

“This Gregory wants more than just Westmore,” she
explained, the quiet words edged with exhaustion and pain. “Even if you escape
here with the witch, you won’t be free. Not while Gregory still lives.”

“Oh, shit,” he groaned, understanding what she was
trying to tell him. The Casus bastard wanted Chloe, too.

Kellan’s gut twisted with dread, and he prayed that
Kierland was nearby, knowing they were going to need his help when they finally
escaped. With Chloe’s awakening draining her strength and the poison twisting
through his insides, there was no telling what kind of shape they would be in
when they finally made it out.

“Can you see my brother?” he asked in a low voice. “Is
he okay?”

“I can see him, and he’s fine. Anxious to get you out
of here, but willing to play it your way.” It almost sounded as if she was
smiling as she said, “There’s quite a lot that he wants to say to you.”

Kellan gave a soft snort, knowing Kierland had to be
furious with him. “Yeah, I’ll bet there is.”

“He’s not angry with you,” she whispered. “Not
anymore. He’s terrified for your safety, but he’s thankful that you brought the
female Watchman into his life. There were a few…complications, but he’s
determined not to lose her. In fact, he’s already claimed her with his bite.”

Shaking his head, a slow smile curved Kellan’s
battered mouth, and he sent up a silent word of thanks to whoever might be
listening. Despite the hell that he’d survived and the challenges that lay
ahead, it felt good to know that he’d actually gotten something right.

After all these years, his brother finally had his
woman.

The Sabin Compound

Saturday evening

TWO DAYS AFTER KIERLAND had bitten her, Morgan still
hadn’t regained consciousness.

Kierland would have been terrified, if Juliana Sabin
hadn’t assured him that it was completely normal for the healing process to
take a little time. Having never intended to claim a mate, he’d not paid much
attention to the more intricate rules that applied to the act, and it drove him
crazy that he didn’t know what to expect. Yeah, he’d known the basics. But he
couldn’t help worrying that he’d done something wrong. Did it matter that she
hadn’t been conscious when the bite was made, or that she’d already lost so
much blood? He constantly berated himself for not sinking his fangs into her
the moment he’d made it back to the cabin on Thursday evening, but he’d been so
certain that Granger was the one she wanted….

After he’d gone outside to let them know the bite had
been made, Juliana had invited them back to the Sabin compound. Kierland had
accepted the offer, wanting to keep Morgan in as secure a location as possible,
especially with the renewed threat of the Death-Walkers hanging over their
heads. The female Deschanel had also graciously offered the use of her room,
and she came to check on Morgan often, even helping Kierland to bathe and dress
her in a clean T-shirt, so that she would be more comfortable when she finally
came to. And Ashe stayed with her for hours at a time, his grief and concern
carved into the grim lines of his handsome face as he sat at Morgan’s bedside,
holding her slim hand in both of his. Kierland had thanked the vampire again,
and had even shared some quiet conversations with the man he’d expected to hate
for all eternity. But it was hard to hold a grudge against the cocky bastard
when Kierland was starting to like him so much. Ashe had even agreed to join in
their fight against the Casus, just as soon as he’d managed to track down his
brother, and Kierland had told him that he’d be damn appreciative for their
skills on the battlefield.

The only thing they hadn’t talked about was the
“family trouble” Ashe and Gideon were dealing with, but Kierland knew better
than to push. He’d made it clear, though, that if they needed his help, all
they had to do was let him know.

Even Micah, who had been chained inside his room since
his return to the Sabin compound, had expressed his concern for Morgan’s
welfare. Although the poison continued to send him into his mad bouts of rage,
Juliana had told Kierland that there were times when Micah seemed at peace with
his confinement, relieved to be somewhere that he couldn’t harm anyone. Despite
their continued searches for the young vampire that Micah had taken hostage
when he’d last escaped, she hadn’t been found. The Sabins feared the worst,
terrified that Micah, who claimed he couldn’t remember what had happened to his
cousin, had actually killed the girl.

On several occasions, Kierland and Ashe had tried to
question Juliana about the reason for her family’s confinement within the
Wasteland, but she’d refused to answer, claiming the subject was still too
painful to discuss. While Kierland was content to let her keep her secrets,
Ashe seemed unable to contain his frustration. He constantly started arguments
with Juliana, until she’d begun to leave the room whenever he came to visit
Morgan.

For the most part, though, Kierland had simply spent
his time alone with the female who was now his mate, holding her in his arms,
praying to every higher power he could think of that she would wake up and come
back to him. His bite had healed the physical wounds that the Death-Walkers had
made, but it was the ones he couldn’t see, that were buried inside her, that
scared him most. And yet, whenever he’d start to worry that the trauma of the
attack had been too much for her, he’d remind himself that she was the bravest,
strongest woman he’d ever known, and hold her more tightly, whispering in her
ear, telling her that she had to come back to him, because he couldn’t live
without her.

And then, exactly forty-eight hours from the time that
he’d bitten her, she finally opened her eyes.

Kierland was lying on his side, with Morgan’s head
cradled in the crook of his left arm, murmuring to her while he stroked his fingers
along the delicate arc of her cheek. And the next thing he knew, she was
staring right back at him, her beautiful gaze locked with his.

“Thirsty,” she groaned, and then she shocked the hell
out of him by nuzzling into the curve of his shoulder…and biting his throat.
She sank her fangs deep, pulling on his vein, and the scalding burn of pleasure
nearly turned him inside out. His fingers curved around the back of her skull,
holding her against him, and he went rock hard, the need to get inside her so
intense, he thought he might actually die if it didn’t happen.

But first, they needed to talk. And Christ, he needed
to make sure that she was okay. That she wasn’t in any pain.

She drank deeply for almost a minute, each evocative
pull against his vein making him shiver and gasp, the pleasure an exquisite
blend of erotic sensations. And then she made a low sound, and pulled away, the
back of her hand pressed to her rosy mouth as she stared up at him through
huge, startled eyes. “Why did I just do that?” she whispered, the quiet words
hoarse with embarrassment.

“I’m not sure, sweetheart.” A grin twitched at the
corner of the Lycan’s mouth, and he was too bloody happy to hold it back. “But
I’m not complaining.”

She blinked, a delicate flush burning across the
bridge of her nose. “I just took your vein, Kier, as if I had every right to
it!”

“I know,” he rumbled, and it was impossible to
disguise the rich satisfaction in his tone. Lifting his hand, he pushed a few
silken strands of hair from her face, then ran his thumb over the worried
grooves that had settled between her brows. “What do you remember, honey?”

“Not much,” she whispered, her gaze growing distant as
she sank into her memories. “I know I left the cabin to go after you. I was
worried you were going to get hurt. Then I remember smelling the Death-Walkers,
and…” She blinked again, and a little shudder ran through her body. “They bit
me, didn’t they?” she asked, staring deep into his eyes.

“Yeah, and it was pretty bad. But Ashe and Juliana
Sabin got you back to the cabin, then Ashe came after me.” Taking hold of her
hand, he pressed the tips of her fingers against the side of her throat, where
a faint bruise from his bite still lingered, the skin there burning hot to the
touch, and her eyes went round as he said, “You were in rough shape, until I
made this bite right here.”

“You…marked me?”

Kierland nodded, watching as she studied the proud,
possessive look on his face, and her mouth began to tremble. “Oh, God,” she
gasped. “How could you?”

He went perfectly still, his voice a little tight as
he said, “That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for. I thought…” He
paused, choosing his words with care. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Tears glistened in her eyes, the shimmering wash of
liquid making his stomach cramp with dread, until she admitted, “Of course it’s
what I wanted. I’m in love with you! But…was it what you wanted? Or did you
just do it to keep me alive? Because I’d have rather you let me die than be
bound to me when you don’t…when you’re not in—”