blood 03 - blood chosen Read online

Julia gasped out loud as her heart soared, Cyn was here and safe. Thank God. Then she looked back at Jason who turned his back on her, hands on his hips, saying nothing. It stole some of the joy of seeing Cyn safe and sound.

  Cyn met Julia's eyes. “I say go for it.” Cyn suddenly grinned and Julia heard Adi mutter, “Here it comes.”

  Cyn's eyes went to Jacqueline, a thin arm in the mighty hands of the Combatant, an unconscious Tony thrown over the shoulder of another.

  “Hell, I'd do it for the sheer joy of pissing Jacqueline off. That alone would be worth it.”

  Julia smiled. It was so good to have Cyn here. It was as if a piece of her that'd been broken was getting fixed.

  It faded with Jacqueline's words, “But you are not the Rare One, are you?”

  There was no answer for that particular truth.

  Cyn's eyes narrowed on their common enemy, tolerated for ancient scripture that seemed to provide a loophole for her to stall... and maybe more.

  Julia walked to where Cyn stood and silently took her hand as they watched the Combatant drag Jacqueline away.

  Julia felt the weight of that black stare like a physical weight long after Jacqueline was gone.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jason

  Jason watched the retreating backs of Tony (perched over the shoulder of a Combatant) and Jacqueline as she gave an angry wrench of her arm, staring up at the Combatant who held her and he glared back. But he allowed her to walk ahead of him.

  Jason couldn't blame Lucius' wariness or desire to distance himself from the scheming troll. Jason would've loved to be the one to put a foot in her ass and watch her fly. Maybe she'd land in a big pile of shit like the one that Singer brother of Scott's was always yakking about.

  She couldn't play her bag of parlor tricks when every Negator at Region One was assigned as her guard. They were taking shifts so she couldn't try for Julia again, or otherwise ambush any other Singers as collateral damage.

  By Jason's measure, the dumb bitch should have been put in Singer prison, if there was something like that—or executed.

  Apparently, when you had royal blood, that was not an option.

  He saw the same thing in the eyes of Scott and William-- They wanted to kill her ass. Nice to have company. Even Scott, who was her blood relation... didn't look to be satisfied with her “soft” imprisonment.

  Jason had killed before he was Were, for Jules. The teacher that had gone apeshit... and now, whatever impulse of civility that he'd had before had been dosed with a layer of I-give-less-of-a-shit.

  Yeah.

  He felt someone approach from behind and knew it was Cyn before she spoke. One of the many benefits of the Were, heightened senses. Like hearing, sight... and especially, smell.

  Jason didn't turn, remembering the bite of her earlier words. “Don't start,” he said, arms folded across his muscular chest in the classic defensive stance.

  “Okay, I won't.”

  That made Jason turn and Cyn's light brown brows rose, her eyes shadowed by the night that had crept in around them.

  They stared at each other, then Jason gave an explosive exhale. “What?” he asked.

  Cyn pointed her finger at him. “Listen, Bucko. You've been an asshat.”

  Jason opened his mouth and her palm lifted, effectively saying, shut it. “Close your yap for a sec and let me tell ya a few things.”

  Jason controlled the growl that came as naturally as breathing. With all this strong emotion, it was just there- superficial, constant. He put his palms out like lay it on me. Not that he wanted to deal with her shovel of shit on his head but when it came to Cyn, it was better to just take your licks like a good boy. Or dog.

  “First, Julia doesn't need our pity.”

  That wasn't what he expected to hear from Cyn. When his semi-shocked silence continued she went on, “She needs us, Jace.” Her eyes searched him. Probably looking for a scrap of who he used to be. Keep looking, that guy is long gone, he thought.

  “Nah... she needs what I represent.” His last word came out clipped.

  Cyn smiled and it never reached her eyes, it sat- shitty and false on her face. “Do you think that you're the only Were that she has to pick from? Look at you...” she asked in disdain. “You think because you had the wedding and you're married in the human world that somehow that makes you The One? Have you been paying attention, Jason?”

  Yeah, actually, he had. He glared at Cyn, his fingers digging into his biceps.

  “No... it doesn't.” Cyn gave him serious eyes. “I spoke to the big wig,” and Jason gave her a look. “Scott's dad, Marcus. And he said it just needed to be a Were, a Vamp and the soulmate guy.”

  Scott, Jason's mind supplied even as his emotions rallied against accepting it.

  “Great!” Jason said sarcastically, throwing his arms up in the air. “See? Julia doesn't need me.”

  It was Cyn's turn to fold her arms across her thin chest. “Oh? So you're okay with her choosing another Were?”

  Fuck no. Jason felt his canines lengthen in his mouth at the thought. His wolf swam to the surface, his body containing it with an effort that was ugly.

  “I feel it,” Cyn said softly and his eyes moved to hers, every pore on her skin in stark relief with only the moonlight to see by. That's when Jason knew that he was not looking at her with his human eyes, but with those of his wolf. That, and every color had disappeared from the environment, it was all just many shades of gray.

  “What?” His voice came out like a growl, even to him.

  “Your wolf,” she replied quietly.

  It couldn't have been better timing but his wolf smelled its mate before she came within twenty feet of him and he turned suddenly to where she stood in the shadow line of the forest. Pale, only the heat of her hair, the natural golden-caramel, now silvered in the pale light and the vision of his wolf, signaled her identity to Cyn.

  Jason gave a growl in frustration, his human and wolf sides mingling uncomfortably. His wolf knew who it was tied to. His humanity fought it.

  Jules walked toward him and every part of his body tensed, every part growing hard and he was caught between embarrassment and resignation. His wolf didn't have the trouble he was having with the decision. It knew Julia belonged to him, regardless of the terms.

  She stood in front of him. “Are you going to hurt me?”

  He stared down at her, so small... so everything. Jason hated how he felt. “No,” he growled. But he wanted to. He wanted to stomp and rant and blame her. But neither of them were to blame. He looked over her shoulder and could just make out the silhouettes of those who protected the Rare One. Close, but not suffocatingly so. Jason scented the air and counted seven different signatures. Scott was not one of them. Interesting. “Where's Scott?” Jason asked her without really wanting to know.

  “He's speaking with Marcus.”

  The silence beat against the three of them.

  “Wow, über-awkward,” Cyn commented helpfully.

  “Yeah... thanks, Cyn,” Julia said but offered a small smile.

  Jason had finally gained a measure of control over his wolf. “I don't know if I can do this for you, Jules.”

  “Can’t or won't?” she asked softly.

  He sighed. “Both, I think.”

  Julia took both his hands. “I forgive you.”

  It squeezed the soft underbelly of his heart that he'd sheltered. The only part that still beat. The rest was dead. Dead from being the Feral for months- hopeless. Dead from hurting Jules twice because of a coincidence of life that he never could have anticipated.

  “I can barely stand the idea of,” Jules cast her eyes down to the forest floor, her hands still held by his, “doing this. Being this messiah to the Singers. I'm not even twenty-one. But... it's me or it's her.”

  Cyn huffed. “They can't be effing serious. I mean... she's a hundred different levels of psychotic.”

  Cyn was spot-on, he couldn't see the Singers preferring Jacqueline over Julia, the Rar
e One.

  “How come you can't just... be with one?” Jason let Jules' cold hands drop and walked away from her before he enveloped her like he'd been itching to do since she appeared. Instead, he put necessary distance between them.

  Jules stared at him, a fat tear sliding out of her eye. He watched it track down her face in a hot line of sadness. Then Jules began to nod quickly. “It can be. But then there will always be this cloud of violence hanging around me, the Combatant will have to always guard me, I'll be vulnerable to death, I won't reign.... I'll be a figurehead, not unifying the species like I'm supposed to.”

  Jason looked at her. “You don't want it?”

  “Gawd, you're kinda thick, Jace,” Cyn said and he ignored her.

  “If I could go back to that night on the beach in Homer and erase this I so would,” Jules said with a hiccup to stop the tears. It didn't, it made her just shy of sobbing. She looked up at him, across the imposed distance he'd made between them. “But I can't. I'm here now. This is my new life, my new reality and I have to deal. I can't stuff my head in the sand and ignore the consequence of what's happened.”

  “And neither can you,” Cyn said softly.

  “I won't force you,” Jules said.

  “I don't feel like I have a choice,” Jason replied.

  Jules shook her head. “Oh no, it's me that can't choose shit. It doesn’t have to be you.”

  Jason looked at the glittering pathway of her grief. Grief for giving up everything she could have had, having to accept all that she must—none of it for herself.

  He held his hand out. She moved tentatively closer to him until just her fingertips brushed the tips of his own.

  He pulled her roughly against himself. “ 'Til death do us part.”

  Jules laid her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat, the heat of his skin bleeding through the thin cotton of his shirt. It had the familiar rhythm it'd always had. “Yeah,” she finally replied.

  Jason looked into the face he loved and realized the hate he'd felt for her was all for their circumstances and not for her personally. He'd just needed time to reconcile himself. It still sat on him like a pair of ill-fitting shoes that he hoped to break in. Maybe he never would. “I didn't know it was you at first... I didn't know.” He cradled Jules' face and sucked in a breath when the touch was so familiar and yet... he'd never thought he'd feel her again in his hands. Not like this.

  “I know that now... but in the woods, when you tried to—kill me...”

  “Just kiss and make up already,” Cyn said in a droll voice.

  And then they did, his lips pressing against hers as Julia molded herself to her husband.

  That's how Slash found them, the Combatant standing as silent witnesses to the possible one third of their future royalty. An unprecedented moment of history taking place before their eyes.

  Jason smelled the Were before he spoke and pulled Julia behind him.

  Slash's eyes held no condemnation, but anxiety and Jason frowned as Cyn came forward.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “We've got bigger problems than you mating three supernaturals.”

  Jason didn't know what those could be. The entire scene was straight out of a bad soap opera.

  “And... now this amps up the mess with Tony.”

  Cyn snorted. “He just needs to be put down already.”

  “You keep saying that... and kinda a bad pun, Cyn,” Jason said as his lips lifted.

  “Tell me it's a bad idea,” she snorted in reply.

  No one did.

  “Lacey Greene has arrived.”

  Cyn, Jason, and Julia just stared blankly back, their expressions saying the name meant nothing to them.

  Slash tore a hand over his short hair and lifted his mouth in a smile that appeared more like a grimace, the edge of the scar across his face ending at his cupid's bow like a kiss of flesh, the upside down small heart-shape of puckered skin exactly in the center. It rippled when his expression changed. “Tony attacked her.”

  Julia frowned, stepping forward and Jason stayed her progress. She gave him a questioning look, but stopped. “When?”

  “Figures,” Cyn commented.

  “Years ago.”

  “Okay... so, some Were chick who was a victim of that sadist is here because what? She's going to be around for the fun when they off him?” Cyn asked logically.

  Slash gave her a look of sympathy.

  “What?” she asked, stalking toward Slash, who stood ten inches taller than her five feet eight. But one of Cyn's faults and one of her strongest points was her lack of entertaining fear. It just wasn't part of her make-up. “You're telling me that Tony the assclown kidnaps Adi and me, tries to force himself on her as Jacqueline stands by like a sideshow observer and he has a history of female hating.... and they'll let that douchebag live?” Cyn's mouth hung open and Julia could see her shock even in the dark; eyes wide, she looked at Slash for answers he didn't have.

  “It's Were politics....” Slash began.

  “Ha! I call bullshit on that. Tony's a misogynist perv...”

  “There's more to it than that,” Julia intuited, her eyes searching Slash's.

  Guarded eyes met hers. “She has a whelp that is becoming.”

  “Oh God,” Julia said, putting it all together instantly.

  Cyn looked from Slash to Julia. “You mean... she's a product of the attack?”

  Slash just nodded.

  Effing swell, Jason thought as he watched the wheels of her mind turning furiously, a freaking certifiable Were criminal. Just what the doctor ordered. Cyn's emotions flowed over her face like water. “Okay...? So he raped this poor girl, she got pregnant and now the child...”

  “Woman,” Slash said in a flat voice.

  Cyn's brow arched. “Woman... is?”

  “Becoming,” Jason said.

  “Becoming what... spit it out guys, I'm dying here.” Cyn folded her arms again, impatiently waiting for the rest.

  “The Singers are not the only ones who have a prophesied Rare One. Though it is not called such in our history. It is foretold there would be a great female, borne of violence that will aid an alliance between the species...”

  “That's what I'm supposed to do...” Julia said and frowned, her hand perched on her chest in confused realization.

  “Wait a minute...” Cyn said, understanding dawning on her face in soft horror. “That means there's three Jules.”

  “Nope,” Julia said, fluttering her fingers, “just one of me.”

  Cyn laughed in the face of the serious tone of the conversation. “No silly, I mean... there's three.” Cyn gave serious eyes to the group. “So... like a jack-in-the-box, we should have some queenie vamp popping up to share the spotlight.”

  Slash rolled his shoulders into a shrug. “I don't know all the other supernaturals’ histories. But now that the Rare One has become and she exists to unite the three: claw, fang, and Singer, it stands to reason that there would be more than just she.”

  “Ya mean,” Cyn began, aghast, “like there's for sure three different women...”

  “Females,” William interjected and Slash looked his way. For women were human by the very definition.

  “A little warning please,” Cyn said, rolling her eyes and spinning her finger. “No vamp jumping out of the box. It's effing creeper status, pal.”

  “My apologies,” William replied, the ghost of a smile riding his lips as his skin glowed under the moonlight.

  Cyn shivered. “Yeah, okay. So... Tony's daughter is here and she's some kind of super-Were and she's gonna save the day?” Cyn asked and Slash chuckled.

  “I wish it were that simple...”

  Julia looked at Slash. “Y'know, I can use all the help I can get.”

  Jason's eyes narrowed on Slash. “Okay, why do I feel like there's a but coming.”

  “A big fat, stinky one,” Cyn added and Julia smiled.

  Slash sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, a
nervous gesture, Julia supposed. “Tony remains unaware.”

  “Well good! He's not going to be anything to her. He attacked her mother, we don't need his happy ass making more problems. He's on a need to know basis...”

  “And he doesn't need to know dick,” Jason said.

  “Yeah, that,” Cyn echoed.

  “It might be too late for silence,” William stated and looked at Slash.

  “He's right. Any Were with half a nose will smell what she is. The Southeastern's been aware and sequestered her since whelphood for the express purpose of any claim.”

  “What? McFly,” Cyn said, smacking her forehead, “are you trying to tell me Tony can do anything? That's lame as hell... he's- a criminal.”

  “Definitely,” Jason and Julia agreed simultaneously, layering their meaning together and he took her hand again under the watchful gaze of William.

  “As the father of our version of the Rare One, he would have certain rights, regardless of the circumstances of her conception.”

  “What about Lacey Greene?” Cyn asked. “What about her rights?”

  Slash looked down and inhaled deeply, hands planted on his hips. “He will be shunned by the Southeastern but we can't kill him. We can't murder the sire of the Moon Warrior.”

  “Warrior?” Cyn asked.

  Slash nodded solemnly.

  “She's not some weak female type?”

  A slice of white appeared in the moonlight, Jason saw it was Slash’s teeth in a fierce grin. “No—she is not.” He could hear the humor in the male's voice and was instantly curious about this supposed Moon Warrior.

  “I'll take it from here, Slash,” a female voice drifted to them in a slap of power. Jason's face snapped to where the sound came from as a woman slid out from the veil of forest to stand before them. He felt a little dull around the edges he hadn't scented her.

  All eyes were on her. She gave a slight nod. “I am Reagan of the Southeastern Den.”

  They all stood there mutely and she smiled, it was somehow more fierce than Slash's had been.

  Her eyes scanned everyone who stood amongst the trees and they fell on Julia, weapons dripping off her body like wayward jewelry. “I have come to join with the Rare One. It is time... past time.”