The Siren Series 3: Brandon (A Siren Novel) (4 page)

Brandon

I move between the battered trucks and irreparable vehicles like slick oil. A fine drizzle falls, easing my passage.

I'm descended from Mermaids by a quirk of circumstance. The warrior who kissed my mother the night she was bred by my Druid sire began a chain reaction of genetics through ancient magic. That makes me what I am. I can manipulate all forms of water—none as much as those that possess salt. The drizzle is a conduit to my fluidity, fighting—grace.

I know I must appear to the women as a tall, dark apparition between a handy slot of vehicles.

The giggling females stop mid-laugh, looking up at me.

I turn on vampiric thrall with the ease of a light switch flicking to instant life.

“Well, hello, girls.”

The most fertile one does a come-hither hair toss. “Hey tall, dark, and handsome.”

The most obvious of clichés.

Works for me.

I dial it up, not bothering with subtle. “Where's your car?”

She moves closer, and my eyes stray to the other two. I lick my lips in anticipation. “You two, make yourselves busy somewhere.”

One pouts at me, pretty in an average way with out-of-a-bottle red hair. “Where?” She crosses her arms under her fake tits like a living push-up bra.

I give her slow perusal. “Somewhere else.”

“God!” She stomps a foot and flounces off, her friend in tow. But not before she gives one more parting glance in my direction.

I smirk. Too bad—looks like she wanted to be part of the fun.

But tonight isn't about fun; it's about sucking and fucking a willing female.

“Come,” I say, and she moves closer. A few drops of Druid blood hit my unconscious radar, and I hiss in a partial moan of raw need. My fangs burst from the prison of my gums, hunger loosened like a wild animal.

She screams.

Of course she would—I can't even close my mouth.

I blur to her side and give her the weight of my eyes. I know they are solid black, simple holes in my face without the benefit of moon or starlight.

I run a finger down her cheek. “Shh, I'm not going to hurt you.”

I remember to use the informal speech of the humans. It's a little easier for me because neither of my parents were raised in a Druid coven or lived with other vampires until recently. My liege, Tarrin,
Cole, and others—made sure I sounded as I would need to if the need arose. Whether it be the antiquated speech of a species who survives for centuries, or the modern-speak of the current decade.

But in this moment, I'm with a mid-twenties human female who has enough Druid blood to be tantalizing, but not enough to be a breeder, I'm guessing.

I slide my thumb underneath her chin, my remaining fingers along the side of her throat. I spread my thumb and pinkie until the long length of her neck is exposed in a slim line of delectable flesh.

Her blood sings beneath her skin, a melody only for me. I drop my nose to her throat, the pulse pounding against my lips.

“What the fuck is going on here?” a male asks from behind me.

I drop my hand and pivot.

The humans behind me would only see a shift of colors before suddenly I'm facing them. A dark vertigo rainbow.

Five men in a loose circle mock me with their eyes. I can smell their indulgence of alcohol from here. That's why they didn't react to my speed. Too busy dulling their already lethargic reaction time.

“Stay here,” I tell the young woman.

She's in deep thrall and clings to the back of my thin black T. “No, don't go.”

My jaw clenches. She is wet and ready with want. I have made her this way from my presence alone. Her unique biology has come to the surface of her consciousness and found its match in what I can provide.

But I have to deal with these fucktards first. I exhale roughly.

“It's all right. I'll only be a second, then we can be alone.”

“Oh ya will, will you?” the male who first spoke drags a stout, thick piece of wood from behind his back. “Kitty tells us you told her to get lost so you could poach off our women.”

Idiot.

“I didn't think women were animals to be poached.” That is a lie, of course. I have been raised to believe human are mere cattle—livestock. But in the case of the human female behind me, she is enough Druid to afford some basic respect, so I play along.

“Ya know what I mean, freak!”

So he
did
notice something.

I believe that some human males are more primal than others. They’re never a threat to a vampire, but it can get tricky sometimes. I always wonder if there are some mixed genetics in some of them. I wouldn't give this male that much deference but ....

“There isn't a sign on the women that if one chooses to spread her legs, I can't be the one servicing her.” I open my arms wide, inoffensively. My crude words have the desired effect.

The female behind me gives a soft moan, no doubt thinking about a possible near-future dalliance.

The male in front of me, even more crude than my words, affects an offended rage. I shove the female gently to the side as the chatty male lowers his head like a bull before a red flag.

As is typical, all five follow his lead, rushing me at once, hoping to overpower me.

Teach me a lesson.

His head never hits the desired bull's eye. I use his momentum and the neck I break becomes a handle as I toss him behind me. With a crash, his body slams into the windshield of one of the cars, glass sprinkling like crystal hailstones behind me.

The four others bury me beneath their combined weight.

With a growl, I fling them off, and they tumble to the side. I leap to my feet as they stagger to theirs.

I taste the metal of the blade as it enters my side. It would bleed out a normal human male.

It just pisses me off.

I slam my palm into the chin of the stabber. His head rocks back, his skull hitting his back as his neck breaks. His body falls to the ground like a plank of wood.

The hilt of the small blade twangs from my gut as I move toward the remaining three. I give a stiff chop into the throat of the first challenger. He stumbles backward, mouth opening and closing like a beached whale.

My attention moves to the remaining two.

They run.

I don't follow. I turn and hunt for the female.

My need for blood has blinded me, made me feral.

She shrinks away.

“Car?” I grate out. “Where?”

She fumbles with a set of keys and drops it.

I blur to her and swipe the keys, grimacing from the pain in my belly.

I look down, catch sight of the hilt, and jerk it out. I watch the wound close then toss the offending knife. It plugs into the side of a nearby tire.

With a grunt, I seethe, “Where?”

The female points at a small car.

I'll never fit in there.

I'm frantic, my cells starving. I spot a semi-truck. They have built-in beds. I drag her to the truck.

“Cover your face,” I say.

She shields her face with her forearms.

My fist bursts through the driver's side window and it showers glass around us. I shake my head free of the bits and leap into the cab with her in my arms.

“Clothes, off,” I command.

Big eyes look at me.

Okay.
Talons burst from my fingertips, and I shred her clothes from neck to crotch.

“Don't hurt me,” she says, her lips trembling.

I feel a pang of pity though my hunger. “No, that's not what we're doing here.”

Her confusion would be funny if I weren't so fucking starved.

“What are we doing?”

I jerk off her jeans with a hard pull, the denim splitting with a wet tear.

“I'm going to fuck you.”

She stares, saying nothing. Still frightened. I can't blame her. I'm not a finesse machine tonight. I've been through too much and am seeking something too important to be gentle. But this female doesn't deserve my ass treatment.

“I will pleasure you first.”

She nods.

Better.

“Spread your legs.”

She does, her panties hanging on by a thread.

I snap it before pushing my taloned fingertip deeply inside her wetness.

I throw my head back.
Perfect
.

Fertile, just enough Druid—just what I need.

She moans, biting her lip and turning her face away. Slowly her hips move against the insistent pump of my finger. Saliva pools inside my mouth, and I shake with a raw hunger so profound, I'm lightheaded.

I find that spot deep inside her. Her pussy clenches around the special talon with a nub that perfectly reaches the niche that is high and deep inside all females.

Her hips buck, her mouth thrown back in a shout of ecstasy as I bury my talon inside her. I slow my speed as she writhes.

“Ready?” I ask.

She nods, and I peel my pants to my ankles, centering my engorged cock above her entry.

Her eyes pin on my prick and widen.

She is Druid enough to take what I give her.

Nova

I look at the clock for the tenth time.

Ren's not back.

It's two in the morning. I can't sleep, nothing to eat. My belly listens to the whispers of my mind and rumbles in response.

I rise from the couch and grab my purse off the kitchen counter. Flipping through my wallet I pull out a single five dollar bill and two pennies.

Goddess
. Figures.

I move to the window and pull the curtain aside. There at the corner across the street is
Wu's All Night Long.

The name kills me. But Wu's really is open all night long. I glance at the warded door.

I can't break the spell, nor can anything supernatural come in. But I can break the window the ward is attached to. The ward will technically hold, but only be securing broken glass while I scoot my ass outside.

Good plan.

I blow a stray strand of hair out of my face, knowing what I'm about to do is bad. I shouldn't damage any part of the apartment, but I'm hungry, angry, and on edge. I need to get out of the apartment.

I toss a brass paperweight shaped like a globe through the glass. The curtain muffles part of the sound, but it still sounds like what it is: a bunch of glass breaking.

I race down the hall and grab a hand towel from the small linen closet. I wind it around my arm and jog back to the window. I punch the remaining shards out of the main window frame.

Ren's going to come back and kill me.

I smile.
Serves him right.
He was kinda being a class
A
dickhole.

I squirm through the tight opening and feel the pressure of the ward giving with my passage.

Ren had warded the glass but not the entire side of the building. Not smart.

I turn around, fold myself through the thing, and land on my ass on the metal grate.

“Ouch!” I hiss, grabbing my ass. The grating bites into my butt as it scrapes skin off my lower back.

Fuck it
. I stand, unlatch the hooks that hold the fire escape stairs, and let it drop quietly. Which it doesn't. It lurches and shudders all the way down. So much for making a circumspect escape.

I turn, hang on to the ladder-like rungs, and carefully step backward, traveling down the many steps. I reach the last one.

A five-foot drop waits for me.

I bend down then launch backward, arms out for balance.

I fall on something besides ground.

With a grunt and a roll, I slip off somebody.

I stand. Three somebodies. There's something vaguely familiar about them, but I can't decide what it is.

One of the three looks pretty beat up.

I retreat a step, wiping my hands full of rust and dirt on my jeans.

“Thanks, I guess.” I cast a furtive glance at Wu's. I'm interested in eating, and I go and land on some guy. A dude who happens to be underneath my fire escape?

Nah.

“You're not welcome, bitch.”

I turn back and face them.
Oh, boy.
The other two make their way to flank me.

I swing toward Wu's and sprint for it.

The light from the sign flickers against the wet pavement as I tear away from my apartment.

I'm nearly helpless with other humans. The parlor trick I managed at the tavern was just an illusion, nothing more. I can't actually hurt anyone. I have some residual power with those who aren’t fully human, probably a protective thing, but with a regular, run-of-the-mill human—
nada
.

I yelp as a hand grabs my streaming hair and jerks me back. My neck shrieks in protest, and I whimper. But I'm not entirely helpless. As soon as I sense I'm close to the assailant, I whip my elbow backward, smashing his nose. He does the expected and drops me.

I turn, and a fist lands in my stomach.

I gasp, dropping to my knees. My body automatically tries to disgorge food I don't have. Bile rises, but nothing comes out. I cough like a stifled gag.

“Not so tough now?”

I tilt my face and see old handless grinning at me. That makes four dudes who are pissed. All because their egos got bruised at the tavern. They somehow found out where I lived and came to pay me a little visit through my window.

I happened to be descending their intended entry, so they'd just waited. I fell into their laps like a ripe plum.

“I'm not tough,” I say, spitting adrenaline-fueled saliva.

He grabs my hair, and my scalp instantly feeling like it’s going up in flames.

“Take a chunk out of her, Derek!” one of his buddies eggs him on.

I see something move from the corner of my eye.

I shut my eyes in anticipation of the blow.

The pressure on my head is abruptly cut off. I fall where I had just been on my knees, toppling onto my side like a felled tree.

A severed limb drops in front of my face with a dull thud, and I scream. Someone picks up my head and punches it into the street. Stars burst in my vision. I straighten my arm, and in my stupor, I have an index finger extended. It sinks into an eye like it was a plan.

A happy coincidence.

“Bitch!” someone shrieks as he flails away.

I float. My consciousness is a meager thing, eagerly slipping into the darkness.

I never did eat anything
, I think randomly.

Hot and wet hits me like scalding metallic rain, and I blink my eyes open. My lashes stick together. Blood covers the ground in a spatter of dots. The smell of copper permeates the air like vile vapor.

Necks look like torn meat as huge men bend over their victims.

Vampires.

Fuck.

I lift my head, and it swims. I work on flipping to my hands and knees and standing.

I sway. Gaining my balance, I come back to myself in jagged pieces of consciousness.

I know these guys.

They’re the Reapers.

Great.

But they're busy. I back away quietly. The sounds of them slurping from the dying men is all I hear in the middle of the night.

The witching hour
, I think with more than a little hysteria.

I mechanically walk away, gingerly stepping over a leg torn from the hipbone. The ball joint glows dimly, red blood like oil sliding off the rounded ivory nub.

Wu’s door is just ahead. I can't stand it anymore.

I run.

My hand lands on the door handle, and I tear it open. I slam the door behind me. The bell tinkles above my head as I gaze out into the blackness.

No vampires are coming for me.

I twist the lock on the door, throwing the bolt. I don't give two shits if I'm not Wu or not.

We're closed, guys.

They can stay outside and make a snack of the dudes who were beating on me. I'll just get a Twinkie or something and get my ass out of here. Thank you very much.

Suddenly Ren appears on the other side of the glass.

I wince.
Oh shit.

“I'm okay!” I yell, nodding vigorously in the hopes that he sees me and can forgive my bullshit.

Again.

He shakes his head, eyes wide and anxious.

What?
I mouth.

His hands splay on the glass, his fingertips bleeding to white with the pressure.

The glass cracks in a perfect circle and bursts inside like a popped boil.

I yelp, leaping to avoid getting cut.

Ren's hand moves through the hole and flips the lock.

“What? No, Ren! Those freaks are out there!” I yell.

“No,” a voice says behind me. “We're in here.”

I turn slowly, deliberately.

The Reapers are there. They'd be as hunky as I remember if they weren't covered in blood from head to toe. Silver eyes peer at me through raccoon masks of blood.

My gaze flicks to the stand of Ding Dongs. I laugh.

Mikhail, the one I remember as the yummiest, meets Ren’s gaze. Ren moves through the door at my back and takes my elbow.

“We have no quarrel with you, Harborer.” Mikhail's voice rumbles low in his chest, and my knees go weak.

Get a grip, Nova.

He gives me a sharp look, and I about die. He knows I'm all horndog-of-the-moment.
Nice.

“Nova is special. She waits for a male Druid, not a Reaper,” Ren says.

The other huge vamp comes forward. Goddess help me, with Mikhail the Hunk standing there, I can't remember this one's name.

“We harvest,” he says, in a not-so-endearing way. “It has been many seasons since we've run across a near pure-blood Druid. And one who has a guard.”

Ren switches to the old language. “Then you are aware of her importance.”

“We are aware that you do not keep your charge safe enough.”

Their eyes don't break contact.

I step beside Ren, his grip tightening. “You're hurting me, Ren.”

“Not like they'll hurt you,” he replies.

“I don't think they
want
to hurt me. I think they want to hump me.”

I get the vaguest smile out of him. Better than nothing.

“Nobody's humping you, Nova.”

No shit.
“Well—eventually,” I say.

Ren frowns.

“Let the breeder go, Harborer,” Mikhail says while the smaller one, Kellan, attempts to inch nearer.

Ren's eyes flick to Kellan. “Do not move closer. Nova is not for simple breeding. She is more. More than you know.”

“I am?” I hate how he keeps stuff from me. Makes me cranky as hell.

Ren nods without looking at me.

I huff a disgusted sigh.

“Leave her with us. No harm shall come to her. We interrupted the human males’ beating of her.”

Point for that.

“You will not harm her per se, but she'll be the sexual slave of the Reapers,” Ren elaborates.

“And why is that bad?” Mikhail asks.

I narrow my eyes on him. “What? I'm nobody's slave.”

Kellan snorts.

He's kind of a jerk
, I decide.

“You'll beg for it, breeder.”

Definitely a jerk.

I put my hands on my hips. “Not from you, pencil dick.”

“Nova,” Ren groans, “please.”

“Nope. No can do. They're hunky but too bossy in their tight-ass pants.”

Kellan the Reaper's mouth hangs agape.

Mikhail removes a dagger from a hidden sheath at his waist. “This will not end well, Harborer.”

“For whom?” Ren asks.

I back away as Ren brings it.