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  Praise for BLOOD CHOSEN ….

  “I have three different series of books by this author, and all of them are outstanding, deserve best seller status. She puts everything in her books you could want: intelligence, humor, romance, family, adventure, suspense, action, etc.etc”.-di1949

  “....I can not explain how amazing this series of books is. I can not wait for the next adventure in the set to come out so I can spend a few days locked in the world of fae/were/vamp/chosen one again! Complete plot twists around every corner and just when you think everything will work out, um no! Read all 3 in order it is a must!” -heather sharp

  “....Fantastic book. It had me from the beginning and I have read them all. Great writing. I lost myself while reading. Hope there will be more to come”.-bayoujewel

  Table of Contents

  Praise for BLOOD CHOSEN …. 1

  DEDICATION: 5

  Warning! Contains spoilers. 6

  Character Index: 6

  CHAPTER ONE 8

  CHAPTER TWO 17

  CHAPTER THREE 27

  CHAPTER FOUR 36

  CHAPTER FIVE 45

  CHAPTER SIX 54

  CHAPTER SEVEN 62

  CHAPTER EIGHT 72

  CHAPTER NINE 79

  CHAPTER TEN 87

  CHAPTER ELEVEN 96

  CHAPTER TWELVE 103

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN 112

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN 122

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN 130

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN 139

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 148

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 156

  CHAPTER NINETEEN 164

  CHAPTER TWENTY 172

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 179

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 183

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 189

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 195

  Acknowledgments 214

  More Books by Tamara Rose Blodgett 215

  Books written under the pen name, Marata Eros 216

  About the Author: 218

  Julia has awakened and in so doing bound herself to her one true soulmate, the king to her queen. The blood-binding, which was foretold between fang and claw, ultimately rescued her from certain death and the Circle of Protection is now complete.

  Yet, another would-be queen vies for the position of ultimate ruler and believes she has found an ancient loophole that will upset the new balance of potential peace that has been put into play by Julia's prophesied reign. Jacqueline will stop at nothing to achieve her goals, even using the dreaded Were to further her victory.

  Cynthia and Adrianna form an unlikely alliance to survive against an enemy that now has help for her madness to take shape. Emmanuel, the Feral and Truman find themselves drawn to defend and protect a new order with a past that haunts their efforts.

  Can Julia and her one true mate bring peace to the species and rescue the ones they love? Will the Blood Singers fulfill their destiny to unite three groups of sworn enemies to come together as one?

  BLOOD CHOSEN

  Book Three: The Blood Series

  Copyright © 2013 Tamara Rose Blodgett

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved.

  Edited by Stephanie T. Lott

  Cover Design: Claudia McKinney

  Photographs: DepositPhotos

  Photography: Oleg Gekman

  DEDICATION:

  My readers, who don't want “easy, uncomplicated, or generic....”

  Warning! Contains spoilers.

  Character Index:

  Blood Singers/talent:

  Julia- Queen of the Singers; Telekinetic/telepath

  Scott- Royal Singer Blood; Deflector/Combatant

  Brendan- Tracker/pyro

  Michael- Illusionist

  Jen- Telekinetic

  Cyrus- Healer

  Paul- Negator/amplifier

  Angela- Feeler

  Marcus- Region One

  Jacqueline- Royal Singer Blood; Region Two Leader

  Victor- Region Two/Combatant- Boiler/Flame of Blood

  Lucius- Combatant

  Cynthia “Cyn” Adams/rogue- Healer

  Heidi- Reader

  Trevor- Deflector

  Northwestern Were Pack:

  Lawrence- Packmaster

  Emmanuel “Manny” - Beta to Lawrence

  Anthony “Tony” Daniel Laurent- Second to Lawrence

  Adrianna “Adi”- Alpha female

  Southeastern Were Pack:

  David- Packmaster

  Alan Greene- Alpha male

  Lacey Greene- sister and female Were to Alan

  Buck “Slash”- Alpha male

  Karl Truman- former Homer detective

  Ford- Alpha male/ FBI agent

  Reagan- Moon Warrior, Daughter of Lacey

  Southeastern Vampire Kiss:

  Merlin- Coven leader (now deceased)

  William- new coven leader

  Northwestern Vampire Kiss:

  Gabriel- Coven Leader

  Claire- Cousin to William

  William- Runner/shifter/Singer blood

  Unseelie fey:

  Queen Darcel- Sidhe

  Tharell- mixed Sidhe warrior

  Cormack- Sidhe warrior

  Domi- Sidhe warrior

  Rex- Sidhe

  Kiel (key-ale)- dragon shifting Sidhe

  Celesta- Sidhe warrior

  Delilah- Vampire, third to Julia, half-sister to Scott

  FEDS:

  Tom Harriet

  Tai (tie)Simon

  CHAPTER ONE

  Slash/Buck

  Buck scented the dawn as it broke the canopy of the trees with columns of light that appeared washed by blood. His claws spit dirt behind him in a spray, racing toward the scent of a female who could never be his.

  And another he was tasked to protect.

  He was the go-to dog, used for his stealth, and his I don't give a shit attitude.

  Slash had nothing to live for, there were no matings on the horizon for him, his face was a ruin from battle and his position of Alpha undermined by Alan Greene. He did not hold it against Greene. It was what it was.

  There could be only one successor. It was the way of the Were and their distant cousin, the wolf. Were weren't picky: if Packmaster was what you sought, you must kill to obtain it.

  Death didn't bother Slash... but for what? However, want and genetics were two different beasts. The first was intellect; the latter was about biology.

  And Buck's biology was asserting itself in one fell swoop of animal preordainment.

  His wolf wanted Adrianna, lone Alpha female of the Northwestern den. His wolf didn't give two shits if she was unobtainable or off limits. There were four subspecies of Were: gold, black, gray and red. Buck knew that his grandsire had been a fullblood red. Depending on how one surveyed circumstance, it gave Slash unfortunate proclivities. Wonderful in war, a detriment in interaction within his den. There might be some logic in the natural counter-evolution of the dwindling red Were population. Perhaps nature strove to eradicate that which was self-destructive.

  In this case, Slash needed every ounce of red blood he owned. He knew that Tony had taken Cynthia Adams, newly manifested Singer healer and Adi of the Northwestern Pack. That intel was all the
motivation Slash needed to pursue their scents.

  It could be he wasn't alone as a cross scent moved over his path and his paws punched the ground as he straightened to semi-upright, his flesh and bones bleeding into his half-wolf form.

  Slash lifted his snout. Immediately he found the scent of his packmates. And one other, whom he did not recognize.

  Slash knew what the unknown Were was in every fiber of his being.

  Red.

  Like himself. His human-looking brows lowered over a prominent brow ridge, where green eyes spun languidly, with keen intelligence.

  And bravery, a common default of that particular variety of wolf. Or stupidity. Slash thought bravery and stupidity were very close railroad ties in his parallel universe.

  A faraway scream shattered the stillness of his hesitation in the forest. Slash swiveled toward that unnatural sound in the wood full of creatures.

  It was not the sound of an animal but a female.

  One who was in peril.

  Slash ran, and to the east a small pack of Were ran to intercept him. Lawrence, the Northwestern Packmaster and Karl Truman, who had been turned by David's bite of the Southeastern and brought by the blood of the red wolf that was already part of the fabric of his genetics.

  They too had felt the pull of the Were in one area. They veered off their premeditated course to the Region One Singer compound and instead, made their way to the cloistered and mixed group.

  *

  Cyn

  Holy smokes, Cyn thought, watching as the snake in the grass leader, Jacqueline, made her way toward them at the same time as Tony.

  Her wary gaze locked with Adi's as Cyn poured her newfound healing energy into the female Were. When the damage made from the telekinetic fall caused by that bitch reversed itself, Cynthia decided right then if they survived this next mess, she was going to hurt them.

  Permanently.

  Cyn loved Jules, she did. But where Julia was soft and thoughtful, Cyn was decisive and pragmatic. That translated to: don't fuck with me. Or, better: don't mess with anyone I care about. Cyn didn't know where her fierce loyalty stemmed from and understood on some level it was unreasonable.

  But things just were what they were, unchangeable like the sun rising and setting.

  Cyn stood from her crouch next to Adi, the leaves crunching under her feet. She felt rather than saw Adi stand as well, the fur gone, replaced with features that looked heartbreakingly young in the unforgiving light of dawn. The ethereal colors of pink, orange and red covered them as Adi and Cyn backed away from the advancing pair.

  Adi glanced at Tony and Jacqueline as they drew nearer. “Oh... shit sandwich,” she said in a shaky voice. Cyn barked out a laugh brought on by pure adrenaline and nervousness.

  Tony got closer, scanning their faces and said, “You bitches are mine.”

  Gawd, Cynthia thought, he's like a B-rated movie or something. Some of her dismissal of his lack of intellect must have shown because his brows dropped above his eyes, casting them in shadow and hiding them from the first light of the day.

  She thought he was a dumb ass and didn't mind him knowing it. But, Cynthia flicked her eyes at Adi, then her gaze slid to Jacqueline; poisoner of her bestie, and she felt a frown darken her face.

  Jacqueline smiled at Cyn but it never reached her eyes. That wench didn't have a legit bone in her body.

  “Well, well... what do we have here?” Jacqueline asked like she was inquiring about the weather.

  Tony's gaze shifted to her. “Shut up, Singer bitch.”

  Jacqueline turned that laser beam of cruelty on Tony and he fell to his knees, hands at his throat. The universal sign for choking was as obvious as if he'd said the words I can't breathe.

  Adi and Cyn began to back away. Cyn didn't know Adi's exact thoughts but she figured if psycho one and two wanted to go at it, they could. Without Adi and her in attendance.

  Tony plunged to his hands and knees, his fingers clawing at the forest floor.

  “Are you going to be a good dog?” Jacqueline asked in a cultured murmur.

  Tony's body trembled. To be brought low by a female Singer... or any female was a blow to his considerable ego. But as the oxygen left his body and blackness began to eat at the edges of his consciousness, he gave a nod of his head, very like the tap out so popular in cage fighting.

  Survival was paramount to Tony.

  When he felt her hand in his hair he cringed, gasping, though there was no breath to relieve him as he hung there-- suspended between consciousness and not. His palms slapped the decomposing earth at his sides. The two females he hoped to denigrate were but a dim memory.

  Tony was so aware his life hung in the balance.

  Jacqueline scratched behind his ear, then petted his head. “There, there... you will do as I say... or die,” she warned softly.

  Sweat beaded under Tony's nose and a low mewling sound broke the seal of his lips, robbing him of even more precious oxygen.

  “Comply or die,” Jacqueline repeated, her fingers tightening in his hair, jerking his head back with a strength borne of her lineage. Royal blood, mixed with age, gave Jacqueline power she otherwise would not have possessed.

  The cords on Tony's neck stood out, his face turning purple. His hands beat the damp earth, fingers involuntarily clenching into the dew-kissed soil. Finally, moving against her brutal hold, he gave another stiff nod.

  His eyes met hers, black meeting black and Tony knew... that he'd met a female who matched him. Who was maybe more than he was. Tony hated it. It also made him terribly aroused, violence and sex were inextricably linked inside him. When death swirled around him, instigated by this Singer bitch, he wanted her.

  It made no sense, compulsions never did. But it made perfect sense for Tony to embrace it.

  “I smell your desire, Wolf,” Jacqueline stated. “And I do not rut with dogs like a bitch Were... you stupid creature.” She released Tony abruptly and he fell, the invisible steel band that had been around his sternum instantly gone.

  He gagged, alternately coughing and sucking greedy lungfuls of oxygen.

  After his coughing fit settled down into breathing sans choking, Tony looked up. His eyes sought Jacqueline's but her's lay elsewhere.

  During their power play, the quarry had fled.

  Tony didn't have to wonder if Jacqueline had wanted the Singer and female Were. He would have. And in that, Tony assumed, they were much alike.

  Maybe in other ways as well.

  He smiled. “Nice going... the females have fled,” he spat.

  Jacqueline lifted one small shoulder in dismissal and replied, “It is of no importance—I have you,” she said, her eyes drilling into Tony's, the black depths like dimly lit obsidian marbles. “And you will use that keen nose of yours to retrieve them.”

  He stood, coming to her side and showed his neck.

  Jacqueline laughed. “You need not show me your subservience. I know that I have it,” she said, giving a low chuckle, her hand lifting in the air and closing tightly in a fist at her last few words.

  Tony frowned, looking down at her. He could crush her; wanted to. He also wanted her in the other way as well. Those two warring impulses were cross-wired in his brain. They always had been.

  He cocked his head. “Tell me, pure Singer,” he began with thinly veiled sarcasm, “do you have Were in your lineage?”

  Jacqueline was instantly offended, though her gaze skipped away like a rat that couldn't find its hole. “There are no mongrels in my ancestry.”

  Tony could smell her lie. “Uh-huh,” Tony responded, and scented of her deeply, his nostrils flaring wide. What he found gave him pause. She might not know, he thought. If that were the case, she was not all that she seemed.

  “Come... Were,” Jacqueline began to walk away, her body showing that that path of conversation was clearly over.

  Tony gave a great exhale then followed.

  “I suppose you have some plan, Singer?” Tony asked in a low voice,
the growl of his kind threaded through it as they moved through the forest, the smell of the woods overwhelming to his sensitive nose.

  Jacqueline didn't feel warned; he could do nothing. Only a certain type of Were was a danger and this Were of the black posed no threat. Less than a threat, if the truth were known. But Jacqueline was all about the tools at her disposal. And that is what Tony was to her.

  A tool. Jacqueline buried a snicker, though she was quite sure he could scent some of the emotion behind it. However, with her Tracker abilities, she could scent as well. The advantage was hers. After all, he knew not what she possessed and his skill set was an open book.

  Perfection. “I do have a plan as a point-of-fact,” Jacqueline replied.

  Tony stilled, grabbing her thin arm. She quirked a brow, looking at his hand on her like it was something filthy.

  “Bite me,” he said with a smirk.

  Jacqueline flushed with anger and opened her mouth to deliver a scathing quip when he put a finger to his lips. “They come from the east.”

  Jacqueline could sense nothing, smell nothing. “Who comes?” she asked instead of the retort she had planned.

  Tony growled low in his throat. “The Packmaster of the Northwestern den... and one that my nose doesn't recognize.”

  They stood for a few moments in a wood gone still. The small animals hid as the unnatural predators closed in around them. Jacqueline wondered why she couldn't sense them while Tony wondered what could be done. Their thought processes were not known to each other but were eerily the same.

  “Ah!” Jacqueline hissed.

  “Yeah,” Tony agreed.

  Jacqueline swiveled to him, her skirts swirling and getting caught in the debris of the forest, her eyes flashing like black fire. “Tell me you can do something.”

  “I can't...” he reluctantly admitted. “What about you? You're this tight-ass Singer...”