I'll Be Slaying You

Grim would want them to die like this.



Sick fuck.



“Not the way for you,” Simon whispered and his fingers trembled as they feathered over Dee’s bloodstained cheek. He took a breath, tried to catch her sweet scent, just once more.



But he only scented blood now.



A soft tremble reached his ears, a small vibration. Her heart? Please, it had to be.



He caught the nape of Dee’s neck and managed to tip back her head.



No moan came from her lips. No whisper of life.



Too late.



No, no—he wouldn’t be too late. If she was gone—



Stay, Dee. Stay.



He wrenched his shoulder but managed to position his wrist over her mouth. He wouldn’t have much longer. He could feel the lick of cold in his own body. Not much longer.



But he’d give her all that he had.



His wrist pushed between her lips. “Bite me.”



She didn’t. Her fangs weren’t out. Her lips didn’t move.



“Bite me!” A snarl of fury. She wouldn’t die while he watched.



Thud.



The slightest press from her teeth.



Dee. Do it, babe. Bite me.



“Live,” he whispered.



Vampire instinct took over. He’d seen it happen before. Seen a vampire on the brink of death. His teeth had shot out and he’d latched onto his food without conscious thought.



Dee’s teeth sank into his flesh. His blood trickled into her mouth.



Take. “Take.” Everything.



Her mouth tightened around him and she began to feed in earnest, greedy gulps as the bloodlust rose.



He would not watch her die.



Her lashes began to flutter.



But fate would make her watch him.



“It’s done?” Grim asked as his hunter stalked into the room.



A smile stretched the hunter’s lips. Slow. Satisfied. “Both of them are bleeding out now. With the sun up, they’ll never get out of that damn metal.”



He nodded. “Good.” Fire had never been the best way to go. He saw that now. Blood, the slow drain, the agony of knowing what would come and being helpless to stop it—



As I had been helpless.



—that was the end for his enemies.



Grim turned away and stalked to his bed. The dancer lay there. Still alive, but low on blood. He’d let her keep living a while longer. He’d rather enjoyed her. “Which one do you think will die first?” Not that it mattered. But the one left behind would have the greater torment. If there was an attachment there, and his vamps had told him the woman and Chase were close.



Lovers.



The body’s needs and desires could make the soul weak.



“The bitch will go first.”



Anger there. His brows drew together. “Did something to piss you off, did she?” Not surprising. Dee had earned her reputation for a reason.



In another life, he might have admired her.



In this life, he just needed her dead.



“She took the hardest hits. She’ll die long before dusk. They both will.”



They’d better.



“Do you still feel him?” his perfect hunter asked.



Him. Chase. The guy Leo had turned years before. Grim closed his eyes, tried to focus and find the ungrateful bastard but—



Nothing. “Maybe he’s already dead.” Maybe. But the truth was that he hadn’t felt a connection to Chase since the Taken had traded with the warlock.



So Chase could still be alive, or he could be dead. Again.



He glanced over at the bed. The dancer was awake. She’d been awake the whole time they talked, but she’d kept her eyes closed. Like a good little girl, pretending to sleep.



Maybe because she didn’t want to see. Maybe she wanted to pretend she wasn’t involved in this.



Wrong.



His tongue slipped over the edge of his sharp teeth.



The dancer wasn’t getting out of his den alive, but maybe he’d Take her. Maybe.



She drank greedily, desperate, hungry, needing the blood that spilled onto her tongue. More. More.



Dee felt the ice rising in her body. The numbing cold, and she fought it, drinking as much of the warm liquid as she could.



Drinking.



Her eyes opened when the blood flow began to ease, and she squinted, staring at the bright light. The broken glass.



Attack. Two vehicles. One from behind, one from the side.



Right at dawn, when we were the weakest.



Smart bastards, she’d give them that, she’d give them—



Simon’s hand dropped.



Dee sucked in a sharp breath. What— “Simon!” The blood on her tongue, the warmth in her veins.



His.



All his.



She turned her head to the left, craning to see him. “Simon!”



A weak smile curved his lips. Such pale lips. Such tired eyes. “What did you do?” she whispered. Stupid to ask, she knew. She fumbled, managed to grab his hand and hold tight.



“You…had to live.”



So did he. Dammit, so did he.



His eyes began to close. “Don’t…watch me…”



Her fingers clenched around his. “We’re gonna get out of here.” They were trapped in a damn tin can, but she’d get them out.



Crushed. Smashed in by the two vehicles and left trapped. The bastards would pay.



“Promise…don’t watch…me—”



His eyes were closed as he finished, “Die.”



No. “Simon?” The chill was back, raising the hairs on her arms and numbing her flesh. “Simon?” She squeezed his hand and realized what he’d done.



His life, for her. Bastard.



Dee dropped his hand and shoved against the metal. Shoved and pushed and jerked and twisted and—



Tears trekked down her cheeks as the sunlight poured onto her. “You’re not leaving me!” A scream.



Not like her father.



Her sister.



Her mother.



No one else would die for her. No one.



Dee screamed her fury into the light and kicked up with her knees. Bones snapped, flesh tore, but she fought through the pain and tried to tear her way out of the hell that held them in its hungry grasp.



When he saw the SUV, saw the metal tossed away on the side of the road, Zane’s heart seemed to stop.



“Holy fuck.” From Jude. The shifter had found him at the motel and helped him to kick the shit out of those vampires.



You won’t find her. The bitch’ll be dead before you even get close. Last words from one of the vamps.



Zane slammed on the brakes.



“She could still be alive!” The fierce whisper came from Erin Jerome, Jude’s lover. Of course, the woman had been at Jude’s side when he’d stormed up to the motel. Not like she was ever going to miss a good fight.



Zane jumped from the car, ran as fast as he could, and heard the thunder of Jude and Erin’s footsteps behind them. Be alive. She had to be. Dee couldn’t—



“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Her scream. Dee.



His heart started beating again. He hurried around the side of the beaten metal pile, ready to rip and fight his way to her.



The passenger door flew at him.



Zane hit the ground. What the hell?



“Simon! You open those eyes, you understand me? Open them!” Then he saw Dee, crawling out of the car and dragging her vampire with her. Blood covered her, him, and the woman was snarling and swearing as she jerked out her man.



She stumbled, slipping, and Simon’s weight hit her, knocking her flat.



Zane shoved up to his knees. “Dee!” He should have known the woman wasn’t dead. The ambush the vamps had set on her—yeah, he’d gotten the full details on that one, courtesy of some threats and the skillful use of Jude’s claws—hadn’t succeeded. She was still alive, still fighting and—



She rolled her vampire until he lay on the ground. Her hand smoothed over his cheek. “Simon?”



And Zane realized she didn’t know he was there.



Didn’t know any of them were there.



“We’re out,” she whispered and her fingers left a bloody trail on Simon’s cheek. “Everything’s okay now, we’re out.”



“Oh, sweet hell.” Erin tried to shove past him, but Jude caught her arms and held tight.



“No,” he told her softly, “not when she’s like this. The bloodlust—”



Dee’s head snapped toward them. Zane expected to see the black stare of a vampire driven to desperation, instead, he saw Dee’s warm brown eyes, swimming with tears. “Help him.” A demand, a plea. “Help him.”



Zane reached a hand out to her.



She grabbed him. Damn, but the woman was fast, even with the sun out.



And strong.



Stronger than she should have been.



Her fingers clamped around his wrist. “He needs blood.”



Clenching his jaw, Zane gave a nod. Not what he’d ever do for anyone but her.



Dee used her claws to cut a thin line on his wrist. He held his hand over Simon’s mouth.



“You need blood, too,” Erin said, her voice steady and strong. Zane’s stare jumped to her and he saw that she had her wrist up. “Take what you need.”



Shifters didn’t normally offer up their blood to vamps, but Zane knew there was a friendship between the two women. More than that.



Dee had risked death for Erin on one of the Night Watch cases. When you went to the line for someone like that, a bond formed.



Dee hesitated, but her fangs were already out.



Too much blood loss for both of them.



Chase’s fangs weren’t out yet, a bad sign. With the blood at his mouth, he should have responded by now.



“You saved my life,” Erin reminded her. “It’s my turn.”



Dee took Erin’s wrist. Bit.



Another link. Zane’s attention moved to Jude. He already had his wrist up. The first time that the shifter had ever offered blood to a vamp.



But Dee wasn’t just any vamp. She was one of their own.



After this day, they’d be tied to one another, through Dee, forever.



His breath hissed out as a hot pain sliced his wrist. A quick glance showed that Simon’s fangs were out now.



He just had to make sure the guy didn’t take too much. After all, they had one hell of a fight waiting on them all.



A real bloodbath.



Simon awoke to darkness. Quiet, total darkness. No pain wracked his body. No cold chilled his soul.



Alive.



Or as alive as he could be.



“You scared the hell out of me.” Dee’s voice. Soft, shaking, and coming from right next to him.



His nostrils flared and he inhaled her scent. Rich, sensual. His Dee.



When he concentrated, he heard the drum of her heart. Strong and steady.



He rolled and realized he was in a bed. In a bed with Dee. Don’t need anything else. Simon reached for her and touched warm flesh.



Her lips crushed down on his. A hard, angry kiss. Fury and passion. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” she ordered and kissed him again. Harder.



His mouth opened beneath hers and her tongue swiped inside. Yes. His arms rose and locked around her body.



Her nipples stabbed into his chest. Naked. He felt every inch of her sweet flesh against him. Every single inch.



She shifted against him, straddling his thighs, and she rose above him. “You nearly died.”



His eyes had adjusted perfectly to the darkness so that he could see that fierce tilt of her jaw. “You were going to live.” The choice had been easy for him.



“Bastard.” Her nails raked down his chest. He didn’t know how they’d both gotten naked, but he sure wasn’t going to complain about it right then. “What the hell gives you the right to make that kind of choice?” she demanded.



He caught her hand. Brought it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm. Because I love you.



Monsters could love. Vampires who stalked the night could feel.



They weren’t soul-less devils. They yearned. They wanted.



They loved.



The woman had worked her way right under his skin and into his soul. He hadn’t even seen the threat coming until it was too late.



But then her heart had trembled and he’d known she was slipping away—my life for hers, in an instant.



Love.



Hell, he knew he’d really fallen for her long before. When he’d first started to watch her. To see how bravely she fought. How fiercely she protected the ones she thought were Innocents.



He blew lightly against her fingers and saw the shiver that worked the length of her body. “I wasn’t going to let you die, not when I could save you.” And she would have died. One look at her injuries and he’d known they were much, much worse than his.



“You do that again…” She lifted onto her knees and glared at him, but had to swallow before she could mumble, “I-I’ll kill you.”



Sweet. He almost smiled. Almost. “Why don’t you fuck me instead?” His cock was up, so stiff it hurt, and the memory of her cold flesh seared his mind.



Warmth.



Life.



Sex.



He wanted it, her—and he wanted to claim her right then.



Where they were, what the hell had happened to them, how they’d both survived—those details could come later.



Now, he just needed her.



Her fingers wrapped around his cock. Her grip, warm and strong, tightened around him. Simon’s breath hissed out as she guided him to her sex.



Wet—warmer. Hot.



Flesh to flesh. Sex to sex.



His cock pushed past the quivering lips that guarded her core. He felt the brief resistance of her inner muscles, the strain to accommodate his length. With a flex of his hips, he drove deep in a long, steady glide.



Her eyes held his. The brown bled away until only darkness remained.



A darkness to match his own.