'We have to move. Now, Thea.'

  13

  Nix crouches on the rooftop beside Fallon and examines the building across the car park. At first glance it appears derelict. Most of the windows had been broken over the years and boarded up to stop squatters from moving in. Any windows lucky enough to still be intact have a heavy layer of grime covering the glass. The only sign of life is the faint glow of light from the far corner of the building. The window is blacked out somehow, but her acute vision can see the hint of life inside.

  Nix closes her eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths. She’s nowhere as adept at picking up scents as Shep is, but her heightened senses should be able to tell her exactly who is inside the building. Once she masks out the various aftershaves, deodorants and other products her team are wearing she picks up a hint of a scent she never thought she’d experience again. Court is in there. Now that she’s closer to the scent she understands what Shep was talking about. It’s Court, but also not. There’s something different about his scent.

  Nix tries to reign in her excitement but is failing miserably. She wants nothing more than to rush over to the building, break down the door, and throw her arms around him. There's a lot to get through before she can even consider what they once were to each other. Starting with where he's been for the last three years.

  She touches her finger to the earpiece as her phone vibrates. 'What is it?'

  'It's Bas. He's made me. Not sure if he's clocked Davyn yet.'

  'Damn it. Okay, both of you head up. We're on the way.'

  She turns to Fallon and Willow. 'Guess it's time to say hi.'

  Fallon stands beside Nix on the roof ledge. 'Never thought I'd be seeing his ugly mug again.'

  Nix looks over her shoulder at Fallon and nods. 'You're not the only one. I just hope he's as happy to see us.'

  'Why wouldn't he be?'

  Nix stands up and stretches her wings, relishing the feel of the cool breeze against them. 'Nearly three years with no word. If he wanted to find us before now, he could have. So does that mean he doesn't want to be found?'

  Fallon frowns as she looks over at the building. 'There's only one way to find out. If that asshole has been avoiding us all this time, he'd better have a damn good explanation. If not, I'm going to kill him myself.'

  Fallon opens her wings and lifts off the roof before Nix can reply. She looks over her shoulder at Willow and smiles. 'We better go after her before she does actually kill him.' Willow takes off, swooping low and circling the building to enter from the alley on the side. Nix follows close behind and lands next to the other two women.

  Nix takes a deep breath as she looks at the door. Her heart has dropped to her stomach and her throat feels like it's being squeezed in a vice. 'Let's go.'

  Rhain wakes as the first spasm works through his body. He rears back in the bed, knocking his phone and watch from the bedside table. The scream sticks in his throat as every nerve ending erupts in flames. He looks over at his desk and the case holding the vials of the drug. It's only a few steps away but it might as well be the other side of the fucking planet right now. He's trapped in this pain. There's nothing to do now but ride it out.

  Time crawls by - each second filled with torturous cramps that paralyse him. He closes his eyes and begins counting. The simple task gives him something else to concentrate on until his body gives him a break. He gets to three hundred and sixty-eight before he's able to roll onto his side and curl in a ball. The pain has eased, leaving his body weak and aching. The layer of sweat on his skin has cooled in the air-conditioned room, sending chills though his abused body.

  He wants a drink, a shower, and a good feed. The first and third will have to wait until he gets himself sorted. Rhain picks up his phone from the floor and calls his trusted butler. Geraint had attended to his parents while they lived and runs Rhain's house with an iron fist. Nothing happened in the mansion that Geraint didn't know about - including Rhain's addiction. He's the only one who knows how firm a hold The Fever has on him and Rhain is adamant it will stay that way. If any of his business contacts knew he was falling apart, his authority would be worthless. Any sign of weakness and someone would attack. He couldn't blame them. It's exactly what he would do.

  'Geraint?'

  'You've had another episode.'

  'I need to feed.'

  'I will have someone here in fifteen minutes.'

  Geraint can always tell from his voice when he's been hit with the cramps. He pushes himself off his bed and shuffles across his room to the en-suite. Rhain frowns at his reflection in the mirror over the wide sink. His eyes are bloodshot, the irises more glowing silver than grey. His skin is pasty and there's blood on his lip where his fangs bit mid spasm. A feed will help the wounds.

  He strips off his boxers and steps in the shower, bracing himself against the wall as the hot water eases his stiff muscles. His bottom lip stings like hell when the water hits.

  He looks up when he hears a knock on the door. 'Yes?'

  Geraint opens the door, but doesn't come in. 'Sir, she's here.'

  Rhain pushes back from the wall and forces his legs to support his weight. He desperately needs the strength her blood will give him, but there's no way she could know how weak he is. She may be a regular donor for him but that doesn't mean he trusts her.

  He takes a deep breath, picking up her scent from the bedroom. That alone is enough to bring a little life back to his weak body. His gums pulse at the promise of a feed, but he restrains himself. 'I'm ready. Send her in.'

  The female is one he's fed from before. Her long blonde hair is lose around her shoulders, the black dress hugs curves he's explored in detail more than once. She smiles as she unzips her dress, letting the silky material slide to the ground. No underwear. Less layers to get through.

  He opens the shower door and she steps in. They don't talk. They never do. She knows what he wants and she's more than happy to give it to him. He moves towards her until she's pressed against the marble tiled wall. Rhain lifts her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist.

  Need takes over. There's no foreplay. She's more than ready for him. He presses against her entrance, giving her time to adjust to him. It doesn't take long. She lets him in, her head rolling back as he fills her. The water drips from his blond hair onto her breasts as she moves on him. Her long fingernails run down his chest, leaving red tracks on his skin.

  As she uses him to pleasure herself, he stays still, one arm around her waist and the other braced against the wall as she screams. He feels her orgasm, feels her body squeezing him as the waves hit. Still he doesn't react. He knows other males who use their feeding companion in ways they shouldn't. Someone to feed from, someone to force themselves on then discard when they were finished. Rhain had never been like that. Without someone to feed from, he'd die. It is that simple.

  There are four females he feeds from and each is treated exceptionally well. As well as being paid handsomely for their service, he never took what others did. Sometimes feeding could get out of control. It was a basic function that could go too far. He's done questionable things in his long life, but he would never do that. Sex was part of feeding for him, but it was always consensual.

  No matter how desperate he was, he would always let his donor take what they wanted from him first. The control required to stop himself from taking things too far was part of the thrill for him. Resisting the urges, resisting the call of her blood, it added a level of intensity he relished. When she finally gave him permission to take what he needed... well, it was worth the wait.

  The female digs her fingers in his hair and draws him closer. She writhes on him again as she latches onto his neck, her fangs puncturing his skin. Rhain closes his eyes as she bounces up and down on him. The intensity builds when his blood hits her system as she feeds, taking what she wants from him. She releases his neck briefly then bites him hard as she orgasms again. The pain from her fangs threatens to bring on his own release, but he holds it back, his body trembling with the effort to restrain himself. It's not time yet.

  She moves away from his neck and licks her lips, her green eyes glowing brightly as she looks at him. Instead of giving him permission to feed, she runs her fingers down his chest to the base of his shaft. Rhain sucks in a breath as she moves on him again, her pace slow and torturous. Her fingers and her body work him, the array of sensations fighting against his control.

  He knows what she's doing, and she jumps to the top of his favourite list for it. She's pushing him, testing the grip he has on himself, increasing the pleasure for him when she eventually releases his leash.

  She leans closer to his ear. 'Your turn.'

  The growl comes from deep within. His fangs lower and his wings slide out of his back. She liked him to have his wings out when he fed. Feeding a Prime is an honour for some fucking reason he can't understand. The water beats off his silver wings as they fill the large cubicle. Rhain releases the control he'd been keeping a firm hold on.

  With the first thrust, his need takes over. It doesn't take long for his first orgasm to hit, but he's far from finished. Without pausing, he drives into her again. His deep breaths in perfect timing with her moans. She wraps her arms around his neck as his pace increases.

  Her fingernails dig into the thick muscles on his wings which doesn't do anything to calm the situation. Rhain growls again then nudges her head to the side. The smell of her blood hits his nostrils even before he's sunk his teeth in. The second her blood touches his tongue he feels his strength returning.

  It's moments like this all his hard work comes in to its own. She's not a Prime. Without the drug he developed, feeding from her wouldn't sustain him. Now... now she can give him what he wants in so many ways. That alone is worth the lives he's sacrificing.

  He buries his fangs deeper in her flesh as the pressure builds inside him. He braces his wings against the shower stall, supporting them as he thrusts harder. The thick talons on the tips of his wings embed themselves in the wall and Rhain growls against her neck as he comes.

  When the last shudder works through his body, Rhain carefully pulls out of her neck. He turns the wound towards the spray washing the blood off her skin. The female smiles lazily up at him, but he has no interest in making pleasantries. He lifts her off him and holds her until he's sure she's not going to fall on her face.

  Rhain turns off the water then passes her a robe which she wraps around her body. He pulls a towel from the rack and wraps it around his waist. Still wet from the extended shower, he leaves his wings out to dry. She follows him back to his bedroom and waves at him as she saunters towards the door, her black dress and heels in her hands.

  She'll stay the rest of the day in his mansion in case he needed to feed again in a few hours. The damn attacks sometimes require him to feed a few times before he is fully recovered. But unless he needs her services again, they won't see each other before she leaves. This isn't a deep and meaningful romance. It's a business arrangement and nothing more.

  Geraint knocks on the door and Rhain calls for him to come in. The imposing man enters, a tray in his hand. He pours Rhain a drink and hands it to him. 'You look much improved.'

  'Thank you for getting her here so fast.'

  Geraint nods once. 'Are the attacks worsening?'

  'Unfortunately.' He takes a sip of the single malt, the drink helping to put the last of the attack behind him... until the next time.

  Geraint takes the case with the medication from the desk and pulls a chair in front of the bed. He fills the syringe with the correct dose and holds his hand out. 'Your arm, sir.'

  'I can do it myself.'

  'Your arm.'

  Rhain sighs and raises his arm. Geraint places the tourniquet around his arm and locates a suitable vein. He injects the medication and packs the vials away. 'I have had an update from Maddox. There is still no progress.'

  Rhain nods then takes another sip of his drink. He's on borrowed time. They need to find the vampire before his supplies run out. Or before the memory block wears off and he can point a finger at every single one of them. 'There's still time.'

  Geraint raises an eyebrow. 'I never knew you to sugar-coat things, especially to yourself.'

  Rhain smirks. 'Trust you to slap me back to reality. What else did Maddox say?'

  'Another subject died today. He will search for a suitable replacement, but it may take time to test the reserve stock.'

  'Keep the pressure on him.'

  'Of course, sir. They have also ordered more of the by-product. It is proving to be quite lucrative.'

  Rhain doesn't reply. That wasn't part of his plan. When he began the project, he had tested both Prime and Hybrid blood before the latter proved to be the correct variant. The Order had taken the drug made from the Prime blood and, unknown to him, tested it on some Hybrids they had in custody. The effects were not dissimilar to heroin for humans. Rhain had no interest in creating this Prime derivative, but he had little choice now. He needs to keep them on side.

  'Sir, are you sure it is wise to associate yourself with the True Order?'

  Rhain stretches his wings out, shaking the last of the water from them, then pulls them back inside his body. He rolls his shoulders as they settle inside him. 'I know what I'm doing.'

  'I don't doubt that.'

  'We're using them as much as they're using us. We need each other... for now. Things will change and I'm prepared for that. Timing is crucial. We need to be the ones to decide when the partnership has run its course. If we happen to take out the Order at the same time, so be it.'

  14

  Court picks up the metal bat from under the couch as the door bursts open to reveal one of the most intimidating looking men he's ever seen. His large, leather clad body fills the doorway, blocking their main escape route. Cold, dead green eyes lock on to him before moving to Thea. The man frowns slightly as his eyes linger on Thea a little too long. Court nudges her behind him as another man appears at the door. It takes him a few seconds to realise the second man is the one from the alley earlier.

  A deep growl builds in his chest. The odds of getting Thea out in one piece are getting slimmer by the minute. The tall man with the dead green eyes lifts his lip slightly showing his fangs.

  Court adjusts his grip on the bat, holding it out in front of him as he faces the two intruders, fully prepared to do whatever he has to do in order to protect Thea. The first man reacts by doing the opposite of what Court thought he would. He leans against the wall and stares silently at them - or specifically, Thea, oblivious to the weapon in Court's hand. Not exactly a reaction that puts him at ease. If this guy isn't worried about the weapon, they're more screwed than he thought.

  The other unwelcome guest holds his hands up in a placating fashion. He nods at the bat in Court's hand. 'You don't need that. We've just come to talk to you. You can leave that where it was.'

  His voice has faint traces of an accent, maybe Spanish or South American. 'Not happening. What do you want?'

  The man gestures over his shoulder and Court hears footsteps coming up the stairs. Three women join the two men, moving to the front of the group before stopping a few feet from Court.

  A tall, well-built woman steps away from the group. Like the others, she is dressed in black leather with flashes of purple in her ankle length coat. Something in the back of his mind tells him he's seen her before, but he can't pull the memory back, if it even existed at all. He's pretty sure if he had met her before he'd remember - amnesia or not.

  She is stunning, but that just increases her threat level. He can't let his guard drop because he's irrationally attracted to her. If the two at the door and the one from earlier are all vampires, does that mean the women are too?

  The woman smiles and holds her gloved hands out in front of her. 'It really is you. I can't believe it. Where the hell have you been all this time?'

  Court frowns at her as his grip tightens on his weapon. 'Who are you and what do you want?'

  She drops her arms slightly as she looks at him. 'It's us, Court.'

  The hair on the back of his neck stands to attention when she says his name. 'How do you know my name? Who are you?'

  The woman's face drops as she lowers her arms to her side. 'You don't know who we are?'

  'I wouldn't have asked who you are if I did.'

  She looks over her shoulder at the others in the group. Court can see what looks like disappointment on their faces. 'My name is Phoenix, but people call me Nix. This is Fallon, Bastian, Davyn, and Willow. You met Shep earlier.'

  'So, this is payback? Your friend came after me. I was just defending myself.'

  'Payback? Of course not. Court, we're friends.'

  He laughs, but it comes out more like a cough mixed with a growl. 'Friends? I don't know you. I don't know any of you. Are you some sort of vigilante group?'

  She smiles and shakes her head. 'Not quite. We call ourselves the Blackjacks. You are one of us - a Blackjack. Second in command actually. You were on a mission a little over three years ago and vanished. We looked but... we couldn't find you, Court. Up until you attacked Shep, we thought you were dead. We've come here to take you home.'

  Court stares in disbelief at the strange group of intimidating vampires. If it wasn't for the arsenal they're wearing, he'd laugh in their faces. The first vampire that burst in his room; the damn scary looking guy with tattoos, piercings, and dead looking green eyes, takes a step closer to the woman. 'We've got company.'

  'Thanks, Davyn. Listen, Court. I know you probably don't believe a word we're saying, and I can't blame you. As much as I'd love to sit down and go through everything slowly, we can't. We don't have that luxury. But if you come with us, I can explain everything.'

  'Who's heading our way?' he asks.

  'The True Order,' the green-eyed man replies as if that will answer his question.

 

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