Once Prey, Twice Forsaken

  Table of Contents

  Once Prey, Twice Forsaken

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  A word about the author...

  Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press publication.

  Once Prey,

  Twice Forsaken

  by

  Tiffany Allee

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Once Prey, Twice Forsaken

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Tiffany Allee

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debby Taylor

  Photo by Frank Celaya

  Model - Jason Aaron Baca

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Black Rose Edition, 2012

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-225-5

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my mom,

  for always being my greatest hero

  and biggest cheerleader.

  To my family,

  who have always believed in me.

  To my fiancé,

  who puts up with my constant writing.

  And to Hillary,

  the best critique partner and friend

  a writer could ask for.

  Chapter One

  Blaire Slater noticed the Hunter following her days before. No matter how quickly she moved at night, he always narrowed the gap between them during the day. It was maddening. She lost ground daily and was sick of running. He had to be a witch. No human could have tracked her across the country like this and a vampire would have closed in faster. Still, she was almost happy a witch hunted her instead of a vampire. A witch would just kill her, but her death would be quick, clean.

  A vampire would do worse.

  She debated exactly how to ambush him, wishing she had more practical experience.

  Leading him here had been foolhardy. The city lay in the Badlands, abandoned by any beings close to civilized. But even with the strange sounds and burnt smell in the air, it was home. The last place she'd felt safe. The last place she laughed. The last place she was loved.

  She settled for hiding in an alleyway behind a dumpster. Hunkering beside it, she pulled her jacket tighter and wished that being a so-called creature of the night offered immunity to the cold.

  The dumpster hadn't been used in years, but her sensitive nose picked up old scents: rotted food, molding paper, plastic bags. She rubbed her nose, and tried in vain to get rid of the odors that assailed her. The rusty pipe she clutched in her other hand was old, but seemed sturdy enough. Not much of a weapon, but it might be enough with her vampire strength behind it.

  Light footsteps padded down the alley, only a couple of hours after darkness fell. The Hunter’s movement was nearly silent, but nearly wasn't good enough when you stalked a vampire.

  Muscles tensing, she readied herself to lunge as soon as he walked past the dumpster. A shape moved into view, hidden in the shadows. She threw herself at the figure, pipe in hand. All her strength went into the blow she swung at the Hunter. The hit slammed into what felt like a steel wall. The pipe flew from her grip and her arm numbed from the impact. She lunged, using all the inhuman speed at her command, and snatched the pipe back from the ground where it landed before turning back to the Hunter.

  The figure crouched into an attack position, but didn't seem affected by her strike. He held a long knife in one hand, and what could only be called a sword in the other. They both gleamed in the night. Silver.

  Blaire licked her lips and took a wide stance, shoulder pointed toward her assailant, arms up and one hand clenched into a fist while the other gripped the pipe. He should have been knocked down from that blow. A protection charm. It had to be. Though she'd never seen one in use before, she knew the charms were the reason witches were so dangerous to vampires. They rendered their inhuman strength useless.

  She studied her opponent, what she could see of him in the moonlight. The man was tall—over six feet, body covered by a long coat. She sniffed the air, leather.

  Blaire wasn't petite, but her five-foot, nine-inch frame would give her a shorter reach than the witch—not to mention the fact that his sword looked to be a few inches longer than her pipe. His hair was light-colored, but the exact shade was difficult to pinpoint in the darkness.

  Swallowing hard, she focused on her options. She could run, but he'd catch her—if not tonight, then tomorrow when the daylight rendered her weak. Fighting was her only chance. And she was sick of running. From this Hunter. From the vampires who made her. From the humans who'd decreed it illegal to be what she was.

  "Come on, bloodsucker. Let's get this over with." The Hunter's voice rumbled low and harsh, but somehow familiar.

  She shook her head. Don't be stupid, there's no way you could have met this witch before.

  "You're the one who wanted to play ambusher. Let's play." He took a mock swing with his sword at her.

  The hint of familiarity was unmistakable. Finally, it clicked. She hadn't heard his voice in years, but she couldn't believe that she hadn't recognized it immediately.

  "David?" Blaire whispered, lowering her pipe a few inches. She wanted to creep forward, to see if it was really him. But she didn't dare.

  "Ah my reputation precedes me, does it? Not totally unexpected, I suppose, I always wanted to be famous." The mock bravado in his tone caused him to sound even more frightening, the violence beneath it made real with the contrast.

  "No you didn't," she said, mouth curving into a hint of a smile. "You always wanted to be left alone, avoid whatever unnamed duty called you." Her smile faded. "I guess it's not unnamed now, though—is it, witch?"

  Silent for a few moments, his fighting stance never faltered. "Blaire?" David asked, finally. His voice hesitant, but a hint of the old tenderness seeped through. And a touch of something else—hope?

  The pipe clanged as it dropped to the ground. Any remaining doubts about his identity vanished when he uttered her name.

  Don't be stupid. He's here to kill you. It's his duty.

  But the hope and elation that came with hearing him say her name overwhelmed her good sense. She ran to him, ignoring the sword and knife in his hands, stopping less than a foot away. He could bring his blades up and take her head faster than she would be able get away at this range, but she didn't care.

  She looked up at his face. His mouth parted in shock, eyes wide. They were the same steel gray eyes she remembered. His face had grown harder, but still the face she used to cover with butterfly kisses. His full lips had uttered words of love, with a tenderness that seemed surreal now. The same lips caressed her body, tasting her from head to toe.

  Shuddering as the memories washed over her, Blaire took a deep breath to calm herself, wishing more than anything that she could touch him, feel his strong arms around her. She ached for it. But the protection spell would repel her. Being so close to him overcame her, after the months of fear, the weeks of running
.

  She sat on the ground in front of him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She put her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Chapter Two

  David Carr had imagined what would happen if he ever met Blaire again. The dreams never ended with her kneeling at his feet, sobbing. He sheathed his sword and knife. Cursing himself for a fool, he reached into a pouch on his belt and pinched the salt held there. Worry crept through him. What are you doing? She's a vampire, this might be a trap.

  Blaire shook, a small gasp escaped her. David touched the amulet on his neck with the salt, extinguishing the spell.

  He knelt beside her and in one motion picked her up and sat on the hard ground, supporting her with his body. Making soothing noises, he brushed her hair from her face. With sure fingers, he wiped away her tears.

  From the first instant he'd known the woman he now held in his arms, she'd soothed him.

  Constant fighting with his family had driven him from his kind, and into the arms of the very thing they reviled: a human. Never confiding his heritage in her, his secret remained safe. Without question she gave comfort, never trying to force him to explain himself. Never prying with questions.

  Until the day he left.

  Now that he held her again, he found himself filled with the urge to ask questions, to force her to explain herself. But even more than that, he wanted to hold her, to touch her. He needed to see if she had same burning need to touch him.

  David tucked a bit of silky, chestnut hair behind her ear, amazed at the emotion she elicited from him. How could she still make him feel like she was the only thing that mattered? Could her lips still be as soft as he remembered, would her eyes still make him yearn for nothing but her? Or had the years tinted his memories? Had vampirism tainted her?

  When they first met, he'd thought of her as a mousy person. At college she always wore dabs of paint on her clothes, from her latest piece of art. But he had never been able to get the seemingly unassuming girl out of his head, in spite of the fact that they belonged to totally different social groups and appeared to have nothing in common. He found reasons to walk past her dorm, and the art studio where she did most of her work, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

  It clicked one day, after overhearing her defend a shy boy from her art program to a couple of jocks. They were giving the guy a hard time for one juvenile thing or another. Blaire gave the jocks a piece of her mind in her friend's defense, then turned right around and gave her friend a lecture after the bullies left about standing up for himself. In that moment, David saw the strength she normally hid from the world. The beauty she buried behind her shy demeanor.

  It amazed him that her appearance was almost identical to how she'd looked nearly two years before. There were differences, he realized. She'd lost weight, her frame bordered on too slender now. Her long hair had been cut short, just above her shoulders. A new hardness touched her eyes.

  She was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And taking comfort within his arms, she felt like his once again. Tightening his grip around her body, he held her while she cried.

  ****

  The second David took her into his arms, the feelings she'd suppressed since her human life ended came back to her in a wave, and the trepidation that he would use her moment of vulnerability to rid the world of another vampire dissipated. In spite of what may have happened to him during the war, he was still the same man.

  Once her sobs subsided, a hint of fear touched her. Crying meant humiliation, weakness. Nearly two years spent as a drudge to her vampire maker taught her that.

  In spite of her wariness, her eyes were drawn to his. She saw no mocking glint, they were still hard, but there was something else too. A softness. Affection. Shame lifting, understanding dawned. David would never judge her for showing emotion. With his solid arms holding her, she was lost.

  Blaire raised her chin, and touched her lips with her tongue, wetting them. Inviting him to kiss her. David's grip around her tightened.

  His lips touched hers, testing. A small sigh escaped her, she put her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer.

  Hands moving up and down her back, he soothed and excited her at the same time, while his lips continued their soft caress.

  She slipped her hands under his coat and stroked his back, hard muscles tensed. She moved to his neck, feeling his pulse with her lips, taking in his masculine scent. God, he smelled good.

  He pulled away, leaving her with a coldness that extended far past her skin. She tried to bite back a noise of protest, but a small sound slipped from her mouth.

  "Easy, sweetheart," David whispered, spreading his long leather jacket on the asphalt, revealing a utility belt with knives and pouches attached to the sides and back—used for carrying spell ingredients, no doubt. He removed the belt, and it hit the ground with a thunk.

  Sitting on his coat, he pulled her into his arms. The slow way he kissed her made her ache for more. His hands were everywhere, stroking her back, her sides, brushing her cheek, leaving her shivering with need wherever he touched.

  Blaire couldn't stand it anymore, the softness, the control. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked against him. Feeling his firm hardness beneath her, she wanted him. Needed him more than the blood she could hear pounding in his veins. Needed him to reclaim the part of herself she'd locked away since her world had fallen apart.

  "David," she said, desperation seeping into her voice.

  Sensing her urgency, he laid her gently on the coat. The hard asphalt dug into her back from under the jacket, but she didn't care. All that mattered was David. His touch, his mouth, his scent. Body covering hers, he kissed her harder.

  Exploring her over her clothes, he moved from her mouth, watching her face as his hand trailed across her breast. He cupped it for a moment and then teased her sensitive nipple with his thumb.

  She arched under him. She wanted him. Now.

  He slid his hand lower, and watched her face as he caressed her breasts, her ribcage, her stomach. Slowly, he pushed her zipper down and touched her, over her panties.

  Breath coming in quick gasps, she lifted her head and tried to capture his mouth with hers. He pulled back, just out of reach, intent on watching her response to his touch. With a small, tender smile he teased her.

  She couldn't reach him with her mouth, and the part of his body she really wanted to touch was also too far to grasp, so she settled for rubbing his chest, his arms, while he stroked her.

  His eyes met hers, and the intensity became too much. As she started to turn her head away, he finally captured her lips with his own. He slid his tongue into her mouth just as his hand found its way into her panties, onto her bare skin. She moaned as he stroked her wet folds.

  Riding the waves of her climax, she kissed him savagely. His tongue touched her fang, the metallic taste of his blood filled her mouth. The hunger for the sweet liquid nearly overwhelmed her hunger for sex.

  ****

  Holding Blaire in his arms again felt surreal. It was like the last two years had disappeared, her body so soft and hot next to his. He needed to feel her skin, needed to touch her, needed to show her how much he'd missed her.

  When the orgasm rocked her, he almost lost it. He chuckled, deep in his chest, happy at her abandon and amazed at how she excited him still.

  Tongue caressing hers, he deepened the kiss. He was so engrossed in her sweet scent, the soft texture of her tongue on his, it took a moment for his mind to process the pain.

  David pulled back, ignoring the sound of her protest, and touched his mouth. He tasted blood. His tongue bled.

  He looked down at Blaire's face, for a moment he almost lost himself again. She stole his breath away in the moonlight. Eyes wide and filled with passion, mouth slightly parted, lips swollen. But the glint of her teeth stopped him.

  "You bit me!"

  Her brows drew together and her mouth snapped shut. She touched her fingers to her lips. "I didn't!" she protested. "Maybe
I nicked you but—"

  He sat up abruptly, leaving her alone on his coat. She jumped up from the ground, almost too quickly for his eyes to follow.

  "I didn't do it on purpose!" she said, her voice hot, angry.

  "You're a vampire. Biting people is what you do." He picked his jacket up off the ground and shook it hard, knocking dust and gravel off. He knew it was unfair the moment he uttered the words, but he couldn't take them back. She was a vampire. That made her dangerous, no matter how he felt about her.

  Her eyes narrowed. "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose." Hands tightly fisted at her sides, she looked like she wouldn't mind hurting him now.

  "How do I know that? A vampire's word isn't worth much in this world, sweetheart."

  "There was a time when you would have taken me at my word. Without question." She stared at the ground, hiding her face in the shadows.

  David frowned. "A lot of things have changed since those days."

  "A lot of things haven't." Blaire pushed her hair behind her ear and looked back up into his eyes. Her strength used to be beneath the surface, noticed only by those who cared enough to look for it. Now she carried it openly. Her beauty, too, was even more apparent. So hard on the outside, but so soft to the touch.

  His heart ached.

  He wanted to touch her, feel her lips again. Go to the moment when everything made sense in the world. But he couldn't, the risk was too great. Vampires couldn't be trusted; his family learned that the hard way.

  "Fine words coming from a vampire." He threw on his jacket and shoved his hands in the pockets.

  She snorted. "You're the one who's proven he can't be trusted."

  "That's not true—"

  "The hell it isn't." She raised a hand and pointed at his chest. "You're the one who left, after you promised you'd never leave me. After you said you loved me. With no explanation." Her voice cracked. "If you'd been with me..." She turned away from him, crossing her arms.

  He opened his mouth to tell her he would have been with her if he could have. But, the thought that she'd been changed into a vampire when he could have protected her from that fate hit him. He couldn't get any words out, couldn't breathe.