Almost Midnight

Steve tensed beside her. “I wouldn’t count on it,” he said.

  “And I’ll second that,” Della said.

  The vamp frowned as if disappointed he couldn’t intimidate them. “You do realize first you will have to prove yourself worthy. If you are accepted, then your shifter here will have to prove himself, and even then he will only be considered an extra. Extras … don’t last very long.”

  The rogue’s insinuation struck a punch to Della’s nerves, but she focused on what was important. The whole “prove yourself worthy” comment.

  Was it going to be this easy? Was he just going to tell her right now what she had to do and they could leave? A tiny part of her hoped it wouldn’t be so simple. She already disliked this guy and wouldn’t mind teaching him a lesson.

  “Exactly how do we prove ourselves?”

  “Do you know how to fight?”

  Hell, yes. “I can hold my own,” Della said.

  His gaze shifted to Steve. “Looks like shifter-boy likes to fight,” he said, obviously referring to Steve’s black eye.

  “I can hold my own, too,” Steve said.

  “How strong of a shifter are you?” The rogue studied him as if assessing him.

  “Strong enough,” Steve answered.

  The rogue laughed. “Then why did you stay human to fight? You’re obviously not as strong as you’d like to believe.”

  “Don’t let a little bruise fool you,” Steve said, tilting back on his heels.

  Della heard the confidence in Steve’s voice, and while she’d assessed his ability to transform quickly, she honestly didn’t know his strength. Yet somehow she sensed that like her, he was holding his cards close to his chest. Not cowering down to them, but not letting them know exactly what they were up against if they picked a fight.

  The rogue laughed as if he didn’t believe Steve. “Well, follow us. We have a little game going and we’ll see how well you two do.”

  “What kind of game?” Della asked and cut her eyes around, taking in all the rogues circling them.

  “A little hand-to-hand combat. If you do okay, we’ll see about your pet. You game?”

  “Now?” Della asked, remembering in detail how Burnett told them not to be lured anywhere. Already the vamps had proven they weren’t good to their word because they’d stated only three of the gang members would meet them for a nonconfrontational interview.

  “Now,” the rogue said, pulling a knife from a side holster and wiping the blade on his dirty jeans. The guys to her left and right pulled out their knives as well.

  Della heard a low growl, and although she didn’t know shape-shifters growled, she knew it came from Steve.

  She also knew that refusing the rogue’s invitation wasn’t an option. It was go, or have some hand-to-blade combat right now.

  “Let’s go, then,” Della said, hoping whatever came next would provide a better escape.

  Steve glanced at her and in his gaze she read his mind. I don’t like this.

  Well, neither did she, but she didn’t see any other choice. She’d done a quick head count and there were twelve of them. She could probably take on five or six, but she couldn’t take on twelve. Not with knives.

  * * *

  They were led to an old abandoned warehouse. Steve transformed into a black crow and moved slower. The rogues muttered curses that they had to slow down.

  Della couldn’t help but wonder if his choice of form hadn’t been on purpose. Did shifting into a faster bird require more energy? And was he preserving it? Or was his ability to shift into certain kinds of animals a sign of power, and he was downplaying his abilities to the rogues? It occurred to Della that if she was going to work for the FRU, she needed to educate herself on all species.

  It would have been helpful to know exactly what Steve was up to.

  When they landed, she also noted Steve took several minutes to change. A hell of a lot slower than before. That’s when she knew for sure he was downplaying his power to the rogues.

  One of the vamps stepped close and said something about wringing the crow’s neck. Della moved between him and Steve.

  With Steve now in human form, they walked inside a dark building. Della could smell old blood and vampire sweat. While she couldn’t see for shit, she could also smell the bloodthirsty crowd. No longer just twelve rogues to deal with, but more than fifty. Her chest clutched with fear and the realization that maybe she should have taken her chances back at the park.

  The lights suddenly flashed on and the crowd hiding in the shadows appeared. In the middle of the room was a boxing ring. Steve looked at her, concern tightening his gaze.

  The crowd cheered and Della looked back up. A girl was pushed into the ring. She looked scared, but also determined. Della tightened her brows and saw she was half werewolf, half vampire. Were being her dominant species. She was obviously an extra. And from her stance, Della also assessed she was a willing victim.

  “And here I thought I was just going to get to kill a human or two,” Della said, praying her voice didn’t shake.

  “Oh, we do that, too. But we change it up to keep it interesting.”

  Bingo, Della thought. They could leave now. Unfortunately, she didn’t see that happening.

  The girl turned and looked at Della with something akin to hatred. Della knew this was the girl she was supposed to fight.

  The smell of dried blood in the air warned Della just how far this fight was supposed to go.

  She looked at the leader of the rogues who had met them. “It’s hard to fight someone I have nothing against.”

  “When she takes her first punch, you’ll have something against her. She’s not nearly as weak as she looks. Sort of like you, I’ll bet.” He pulled out his knife again. “Go fight her, Miss Sass, and let’s see how good you really are.”

  Della swallowed a knot of fear, but she forced herself to ask. “Where does this end?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, but his smirk told her he knew exactly what she meant.

  “I knock her out, it’s over, right?” She was hoping.

  His eyes brightened with plain ol’ evilness. “What fun would that be?” He brought the knife up and stared at the blade. “It ends when one of you stops breathing and becomes a willing blood donor, that’s when it’s over. So the question is, will we be drinking your blood at sunrise or hers?”

  “Hmm,” Della said, and worked at keeping the horror from showing on her face. She glanced at Steve. He cut his eyes up to the ceiling. She didn’t know what the hell the message was, but she hoped it meant he had a plan. Because, God help her, she couldn’t think of one right now. And she was either about to kill someone, or be killed.

  Chapter Five

  Della got into the ring thinking there would be a bell, thinking she’d come up with a way out of this crap, but nope—on both counts. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, the girl attacked.

  Della still didn’t have a clue what to do. But when she took a fist to the cheek and it hurt like hell, she decided letting this girl beat the crap out of her wasn’t a good plan, either.

  Della ducked the girl’s second punch. The crowd booed.

  The were came at her again and Della grabbed the girl by the arm and unceremoniously tossed her across the ring. She landed hard, but was back on her feet in seconds. As the girl danced around throwing punches like some boxing queen, Della briefly found Steve in the crowd. He glared right at her and then cut his eyes upward again.

  The second of lost focus cost Della dearly, for the girl struck again, this time kicking Della right in the ribs. Air whooshed out of her lungs as pain caused her to stumble back. That’s when her gaze caught the slight opening in the ceiling, where an air vent had once been.

  Okay, now she knew Steve’s plan, but didn’t he realize that these other vamps could fly, too?

  Another foot came at Della’s face. She grabbed the leg by the ankle and slung the girl outside the ring. Yelps and cries for blood echoed from the crowd. The g
irl landed in a group of vamps, but she must have been made of rubber, because she bounced back up and charged again.

  She leapt into the ring. Her eyes glowed the notable orange color of a pissed-off were. She kicked up her foot; Della went to block it. A bad mistake, because she didn’t see what the B with an itch had in her hands until it was too late.

  The knife came right at Della’s heart. Her only defense was to block it with her arm. The blade sliced into her forearm and it felt like a burn, hot yet cold at the same time. The smell of blood filled her nose.

  Her own blood.

  She heard the hungry cries from the audience.

  The girl took a step back, but only to charge again. The knife was aimed right at Della’s chest. A roar, not from the crowd, but from some exotic feline animal, rang in Della’s ears.

  Fury, hot red rage, filled Della’s heart at the same time the knife sank into her chest, right below her collarbone. Amazingly, she felt more anger than pain. Grabbing the girl by the shoulders, she slung her. It looked like slow motion. Felt like slow motion, as the knife sliced its way out of Della’s chest. Breath held in pain, she watched as the girl flew away, the knife, still in her hands, dripping blood from the tip of the blade.

  Then Della saw the supersized lion, aka Steve, charging toward the ring, mauling anyone who dared get in his way. Go Steve! She pointed up and then with everything she had, she leapt straight into the air, barely fitting through the tight little exit. And right behind her, hauling ass, was a peregrine falcon.

  She continued upward knowing the vamps, at least the ones who could fit through the tight opening, would be behind them. She ignored the burning sensation in her shoulder. Suddenly aware she didn’t hear the flap of a bird’s wings, she glanced back. Steve had returned to the roof, transformed into a dragon, and was in the process of breathing fire into the hole in the old building. Damn, but the guy made a nice-looking dragon.

  Obviously, the building had some sort of insulation that wasn’t fire resistant, because smoke started billowing out of the roof almost immediately.

  In seconds, sparkles started popping off around the dragon and Steve was back to being a peregrine. They flew off hard and fast. She kept looking back, praying the rogues weren’t there. Thankfully, only the darkness chased them.

  Suddenly, Steve started down.

  “No,” she screamed at him. “We need to keep going. They’ll come after us!”

  He didn’t listen, but continued down and landed in a dark alley much like the one they’d been in last night. Six-foot-high wooden fences lined the pathway, as if too keep riffraff out. The overflowing garbage cans that smelled like spoiled fruit seemed to hold up the fences, some of which looked rotted. By the time she landed, Steve was already human.

  “Shit,” he said, grabbing her arm. The sweet smell of her own blood chased away the smell of garbage and filled Della’s senses.

  “You know,” she said, flinching at the pain both in her arm and her upper chest, “you did good.”

  “You are not going to die!” he seethed.

  “Who said anything about dying?” She found it hard to focus on him and she blinked a couple of times.

  “You just complimented me,” he said in a low growl. “That tells me how seriously hurt you are.”

  She grinned and she couldn’t hold the gesture in place. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

  “No, you’re not that bad. Just stubborn…” he met her gaze, “and perfect,” he said, but his voice sounded distant. “I need to get you to a hospital.”

  “No,” she said, feeling her knees weaken. “I need blood and I’ll heal. She didn’t hit any major organs, or I’d be dead. Just get me blood, Steve. That’s all I need. Vampires heal really quickly.”

  He frowned and pulled his phone out. “Don’t you dare call Burnett!” she seethed, but her knees folded and she dropped to the ground. “Please,” she begged, feeling tears fill her eyes. “I want to impress him. I can’t let him down.” She batted at her tears and saw Steve looking down at her with compassion.

  Relief fluttered inside her when she saw him put his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you,” she repeated, but she’d no more gotten that last word out when she smelled the dirty scent that hinted at rotten meat. They had company. Not the rogue vamps.

  Weres.

  Oh, shit! She really didn’t want to die today.

  She stood up, her whole body trembled. She prayed she looked a lot more menacing than she felt. There were three of them, big mean-looking dudes. Hair so dirty she couldn’t distinguish the color, and clothes that looked just as unclean.

  They’d obviously smelled her blood and came looking for a bite to eat.

  “Leave,” Steve growled at them. “Or I’ll kill you.” Sparkles started popping off around him. A loud roar filled the dark alley. The lion had returned, only this time it was even larger, the size of a small van.

  Two of the weres backed up, but one, obviously the most stupid, started running at Steve, his canines extended, his eyes glowing orange. Steve swatted one paw and knocked the were across the alley. He hit the fence with a loud thud. The two smarter weres ran like hell was on fire and chasing them.

  It took Della a second to realize she hadn’t done anything. She hadn’t even growled at the intruders to help Steve stand against them. But how could she when it took everything she had to stand?

  With the echo of the fading footsteps running down the alley, she watched the lion charge at her. But what she didn’t understand was why everything was spinning. Round and round the world goes, where it lands nobody knows. Her mind created the singsong words in her head to go with the light-headed feeling washing over her. Just when she was about to get used to the light-headedness, black spots started popping off like firecrackers in her vision.

  The last thing Della remembered was falling against the big beast and thinking that even as a lion, Steve smelled like some spicy male soap.

  * * *

  Della felt someone lift her head up.

  Then she heard a male voice with a Southern accent as sexy as the voice was deep. “You either wake up and drink this or I’m going to have to call Burnett. You hear me? Wake up, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart? Della lifted her eyelids and looked up at the dark-haired, soft brown–eyed guy sitting next to her on the huge bed. He had one hand behind her head and the other holding a cup up to her mouth. It took her a second to realize who he was. It took another one for her to remember everything.

  The mission.

  The vampires.

  The weres.

  Steve’s kiss.

  Oh, yeah, she remembered Steve’s kiss.

  “Thank heavens,” he muttered when he saw her looking at him. “Can you drink?” He pressed the cup to her lips. “Just a couple of sips.”

  The sweet smell of blood filled her nose and she opened her mouth and sipped. It tasted so good, she took another sip.

  Steve lowered her head on the pillow that was so soft it practically swallowed her head. She glanced up at his smile.

  “I think you need to drink more, but we’ll give you a few minutes,” he said.

  The silky feel of the sheets against her bare back and the soft pillow surrounding her head told her two things. One, they weren’t back at the cabin, and two, she was practically naked.

  She moved her gaze around and took in what appeared to be a fancy hotel room. Then she reached down to the sheet that covered her chest and lifted it up an inch to check for clothes.

  Yup, naked. Well, practically naked. She still had on her red silk panties. And a bandage over her wound.

  She dropped the sheet down against her chest and frowned up at him.

  “Where are my clothes?”

  “I threw them in the bathtub and rinsed them just in case any weres or other vamps were around. Didn’t want them to smell you.”

  How could she argue with that? She couldn’t. Well, she could, not every argument had to
be based in logic, but face it, she was too tired to argue a logical point much less an illogical one.

  “Ready for some more blood?” He held the cup out.

  She wanted to say no, but she knew the blood was the only thing that would help her. Leaning up on her elbow, or trying to, she slipped back into the pillow. She looked up into his soft, concerned eyes and felt … she felt naked, weak, and vulnerable. This was so not her best day.

  He reached down and helped her sit up. She felt the sheet slip down and she barely managed to catch it before it exposed her breasts. He held the cup to her lips and she sipped.

  When he pulled the cup away, he smiled at her again—all sweet like. He wasn’t even looking at her like she was naked under the sheet like most boys would. He was smiling at her like … like she was someone he cared about.

  Definitely not her best day.

  She didn’t want him to start caring. Because then she might start caring about him. That was dangerous.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned back and in few minutes she felt sleep claim her.

  Chapter Six

  Della felt a tickle against her temple and went to wipe it away. Then the tickle hit the back of her hand.

  Her eyes popped open with a start. The tickle was someone’s breath, easy in and easy out, wisps of air.

  And that someone was Steve.

  Steve, asleep in bed with her. Steve, on his side, sharing her pillow.

  Steve, not even the least bit ugly, with dark long lashes resting against his upper cheek. His equally dark brown hair lay scattered across his brow.

  Asleep, he looked younger, except for his five o’clock shadow. She tried to remember if she’d felt any of that stubble when he’d kissed her last night at the restaurant. She hadn’t. But she wanted to run her fingers across his chin now.

  Her gaze shifted downward to her chest, to her not-so-big boobs. The sheet had slipped down around her waist.

  Frowning, she snatched the sheet up and wondered if Steve had been privy to the view before he’d fallen asleep. Of course he had, she realized, he’d been the one to remove her bra and play doctor when he dressed her wound. A depressing thought hit. Had he been disappointed that she wasn’t bigger?