Twister Page 3

  When he came to a dead end, he stopped in his tracks. The smooth walls gave away nothing, and Andy cursed in his head. How was he going to get back into the gang if he made a mistake like this? He’d lost the people he was tracking, he left evidence of his presence back in the vampire’s hideout. And where was he even? This place had to be made by vampires but why and when?

  As he turned, the thick rotten-fruit smell of vampires enveloped him. He darted to one side instinctively as an arm reached through the wall and swiped at him. With a growl of triumph, he threw himself at the wall, only to go right through it. The sight of a dozen vampires greeted him, and he bristled. Four of them pounced on him at once. Andy twisted, growling in his throat as he clawed at one of them.

  Then the woman standing in the center of them caught his eye. Blue eyes, dark hair, porcelain skin. Guinevere looked shocked to see him, and he was so shocked that he froze as well.

  An elbow collided with the back of his skull, and the grenade he’d brought fell from his mouth. As the vampires—Guinevere’s guard, he realized—threw themselves between him and their queen, she walked forward and picked it up.

  “Let him shift,” she ordered, inspecting the grenade.

  The guard pulled back reluctantly. Andy’s tail swished over the ground as he considered them and the queen. True, he had come here to stop the vampires who were going after her. But this wasn’t exactly how he meant to do it. His gaze landed on the grenade, and he scowled as he shifted back to human form. He was in her territory. She had every right to kill him where he stood, especially since it could easily be seen as he was attacking them.

  “Twister. What are you doing here?” Guinevere handed the grenade to the person on her left. “And does Typhoon know you’re here?”

  “No,” he said, forcing himself to stay relaxed. “I didn’t even know I was here. I came across a dozen vampires with guns and explosives who were talking about trying to kill you. I was attempting to chase them down and take them out…” He glanced around the room, surprised to find it full of vampiric pictures. A frown furrowed his brow as he met Guinevere’s gaze. “And I didn’t know that you had tunnels connecting your kingdom with cities that belong to the shifters.”

  Guinevere arched a brow at him. “And now you’re a little lost puppy that knows too much. Although, if you were really trying to save my life, I suppose straight up killing you would be a poor repayment.” She tilted her head, letting her long brown hair fall down her back as she put her hands on her hips. “Take him to the cells.”

  “The cells?” Andy’s eyes narrowed. What was she planning to do with him? “And why do you want to put me there?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Guinevere cooed. “You are a prisoner… at least until I can settle the matter with Typhoon.”

  Andy snorted, but anxiety started to twist his stomach. He wasn’t part of the Brotherhood. Sure, he had left that message for Typhoon, but Guinevere could tell him anything she liked. Typhoon might not even have to believe her in order to choose to throw him to the vampires. He hardened his expression, as he folded his arms over his chest.

  “Do whatever you like. Just know that there is a group of vamps looking to blow you up.”

  Guinevere smirked at him. “I can look after myself, Twister. Thank you very much for your concern but—"

  The dull sound of an explosion made them all twist. The ground trembled. Andy tensed as he tasted the air; more vampires were coming at them. The scent difference was subtle but definitely there. With a growl, he whirled around to face the false wall and bunched his muscles. Fighting alongside vampires wasn’t on the top of his priorities, but it might help his case here…

  “We’ve got a lot of activity registered,” one of the vampires behind him said, then he swore. “My queen, we’re—”

  Before he could finish, at least two dozen vampires sprang through the wall. They wore strips of some sort of white cloth that gleamed silver-blue in the light. Many held guns while others attacked the queen’s guard with bare hands. Andy shifted at once, leaping at the closest vampire with a gun. The thunderous rat-a-tat-tat sounded for half a second before Andy’s jaws had clenched around the vampire’s arm. It let out a cry of pain and shock, as he tossed it over his shoulder. The gun clattered to the floor.

  Another vampire came at him, and he rolled to avoid its long claws, then shifted back to human form to punch it in the face. It stumbled back, he shifted again and attacked. Well aware of Guinevere’s vampires surrounding him, he didn’t go for the kill, instead merely breaking the vampire’s neck so it would be immobilized. Let Guinevere decide what to do with it afterward.

  Pain exploded down his back as more gunfire went off. The impact of bullets lifted him from his feet and slammed him into the floor several feet away. Andy glanced up through a haze of pain to see Guinevere wrestling with the vampire who had gotten the machine gun. Behind them, another one drew a round ball from his pocket.

  A thrill of fear washed down Andy’s spine. He meant to blow them all up. Pushing aside the burning pain of the bullets lodged in his body already, Andy sprang to his feet. Guinevere wrestled the gun away from her attacker with a cry of victory. Andy jumped, using one hand to bat her over, away from the vamp with the grenade. As the vampire pulled the pin, Andy collided with his chest. The grenade tumbled from the vampire’s hand.

  Andy had only a split second to act. He batted the grenade away, through the false wall, and then threw himself over Guinevere. The explosion threw him forward even as he shifted and pulled her into his arms.

  They fell over each other, rolling and tumbling before coming to a stop on the far wall. All the vampires were flattened on the floor. Alive or dead, Andy didn’t really care. Several more vamps in uniforms came barreling down the hall. Andy’s ears rung, and he couldn’t get his head to sit on straight. He collapsed over Guinevere, relief washing over him as he felt her chest moving.

  That relief was short-lived as pain lanced through his body. He groaned, trying to shift his weight with little success. From the sharp points of white-hot agony, he’d broken several ribs. He managed to push himself to his elbows to glare at the queen beneath him. What had he done that for? Risking his life for a bloodsucker? Maybe Typhoon was right—he wasn’t smart enough.

  And then blackness overtook him, and he collapsed again.

  Chapter Four

  Guinevere

  It had been a long time since someone had looked at her like that. Like he was worried about her and hated that he was worried about her. Like he wanted to tear her head off and, at the same time, wanted to check her over to make sure she was okay. Guinevere had seen it before, of course, and knew better than to think it was any sort of fondness toward her. Even if he knew that it was her that he had slept with at Gloria’s Gates, one time having sex wasn’t enough for any real emotion to develop.

  Yet, as she lay there, his body sheltering hers as her guard yelled and rushed about the room to subdue the last of her attackers, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling some sort of longing.

  Twister’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his head fell to her chest. Guinevere grunted as his full weight pressed down on her. She managed to shift him aside, then slid out from under his body. He’d taken quite a bit of damage. Not only was blood pumping from various wounds, but shrapnel also stuck straight out of his back. He had the scent of death about him.

  But he wasn’t hopeless.

  Guinevere carefully rolled him to his side, making sure he wouldn’t fall onto his back and push the shrapnel deeper in. She cast a quick glance around and, satisfied that her people had the attackers well in hand, ripped her sleeve open from wrist to elbow. She moved to bite through her skin but stopped at the last moment. If she bit herself, it would leave trace amounts of venom in her bloodstream, and that would have unknown effects on the shifter.

  With a snarl, she grabbed a flat, sharp piece of some unidentifiable thing and slashed at her wrist.

  Earl ga
ve a shout as he reached for her arm. “What are you doing?”

  “This wolf saved my life.” Not to mention Typhoon would pitch a fit if one of his men died in my kingdom, regardless of the reasons.

  She pressed her bleeding wrist into Twister’s mouth and waited. His eyelids flickered, and a gentle tug on her skin told her that he had started to drink. It was instinctive, and she relaxed. Adrenaline still shot through her system, dulling the pain in her wrist. The injury would lessen the humanity that still flowed through her veins, and soon enough it wouldn’t hurt at all.

  “Do you want that for your queen?” one of the vampires who had attacked them spat at her. “She gives her own blood to a filthy shifter? Is he going to be your king now?”

  Guinevere rolled her eyes. “The dungeons,” she ordered Earl.

  He nodded and gestured for the enemy vampires to be taken away. The death-scent lingering around Twister eased. His eyes opened briefly. Enough for their eyes to lock and for him to jerk back. Then he collapsed again and was still. Guinevere let out a soft breath and stood, wrapping her arm.

  “Take him to my chambers. I’ll tend to him myself.” At Earl’s confused gaze, she smiled. “I want to know just how much of what he was saying was the truth.”

  The confusion cleared from Earl’s eyes. Guinevere surveyed the damage and death, as several of her guards lifted Twister and began carrying him away. Her stomach twisted, as she saw that they’d lost four people. Along with Amelia. She hadn’t survived the staking. Anger threatened to boil up in her veins, but Guinevere fought it down. She needed to know what was going on before she attacked anybody.

  There were several kingdoms who could be behind this. She had to find the right one, and then she could act. In the meantime, she had a shifter to tend to. The last thing she wanted was for Typhoon to get on the warpath and come after her, too. So first, she’d make sure Twister would survive and then contact him.

  Guinevere shook her head as she headed for her chambers. It appeared that she had gone to Gloria’s Gates too early. She needed some serious stress relief now.

  ***

  Twister slept for a full day, but when he woke, he was fully awake. Guinevere was resting on her couch after a long argument with Typhoon, when Twister swung off her bed, snorted in disgust at the bandages she had meticulously taped to his body and headed for the door. Guinevere flipped to her back and cushioned her head on her arms, watching him. He reached for the doorknob then whirled on her.

  “You’re not going to try to stop me?”

  “No need. It’s locked.”

  Twister glared at her. “I’m not going to be your prisoner.”

  Guinevere arched a brow. Honestly, she didn’t like the idea of holding him hostage here. The fact was, though, he knew about the tunnels, and she couldn’t just let him walk away without finding out what he knew. Not to mention there was the possibility that Typhoon was involved in this. She hadn’t thought that he was capable of allying with another vampire kingdom in an attempt to get rid of her (nor did she know what reason that would be), but it was only recently that he had her take in a vampire who was apparently a spy for him in another kingdom.

  So, who knew what he was capable of.

  “I would prefer it if you considered yourself a guest. I have tended to your injuries, after all.”

  Twister’s muscles bulged, making his tattoos ripple over his pale skin. “A guest?”

  “Yes.” Guinevere swung up and toyed with the deep neckline of her gown. “As a guest rather than a prisoner, I can make your stay much more enjoyable.”

  Why was her stomach tightening like that? It was an odd, sick sensation. More than anything, she wanted to be more human than vampire right now. She only had a few days left where she’d be able to taste real food—maybe that was why she had been so ravenous of late, wanting to taste everything she could get her hands on.

  Her gaze ran down Twister’s form. Everything she could get her hands on.

  The shifter growled at her. “I don’t fuck vampires.”

  “Use your nose, I’m only half vampire right now. Besides,” she added with a wink, “we’ve fucked before.”

  A beat of silence. Twister stared at her as though she was insane. And maybe she was, trying to seduce a shifter-prisoner. Who knows how he would react when she told him everything. For all she knew, he’d be furious enough to try to kill her. Well, if he did then it’d be simple, she would merely move him down to the dungeons.

  “I have never slept with you.” His voice sounded more confused than angry, and Guinevere took that as a good sign.

  “Well, you didn’t know it was me. And I was more human then.” A pang hit her stomach. How long would it be until she could be fully human again? “Gloria’s Gates. I was the sultan’s mute concubine that you seduced.”

  Twister’s jaw dropped. The air left his lungs audibly. Guinevere stood and casually walked to the bar where she stored her wine. Her senses were on edge, waiting for any sign that he was going to attack her turned back. He didn’t, though, and she poured a little wine for them. When she turned, she saw his gaze moving over her body. She wore a loose dress. White but not sheer. It hid her body from his view while recalling the veils she had swathed herself in on that day.

  She hadn’t even realized she had done it on purpose until now. Heat, so rare when she was this close to being a full vampire, washed under her skin. Plenty of literature painted vampires as sex-crazed, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. When they were fully vampire, they had no heartbeat. They had no blood flow. The desire for sex simply was physically impossible.

  Maybe that was why it raged under her skin now, wanting Twister more than anything at that moment. He was attractive, tall and strong. The added edge of danger that he brought, being a shifter unhappy with confinement, only made her pulse beat stronger.

  “That…” Twister shook his head and scowled. “That was a rather racist portrayal of Arabic people, wasn’t it?”

  “You went along with it.”

  Twister opened his mouth then closed it again with a shrug. He peered at her for a moment, a frown heavy on his face. “If that was really you—and I’m not convinced it was—then why? Why play the part of a prostitute at a place like that?”

  “Gloria’s Gates is the only place I’ve found that makes sure the girls working actually want that line of work. They offer other employment services, you know, helping the desperate get jobs that don’t including selling their bodies. They also are very good at protecting the girls.” Guinevere shrugged. “Better them than some dirty pimp in a back alley.”

  Twister snorted. “That’s not what I was asking, and you know it. You’re a queen. You must have your pick of men, women, nonbinaries and probably genders that I’ve never even heard of. You’re vampires. You’re ancient, from all sorts of different cultures. Why go to a whorehouse for sex?”

  Guinevere considered him for a long moment. He wasn’t angry, which was a bit more than she had expected. He was shocked, certainly, and a bit disbelieving, but she could see that it was just a matter of acceptance rather than pure disbelief. She handed one of the glasses to him. He took it, made to drink but stopped before his lips touched the glass. After a quick sniff of the contents, he glared at the wine.

  “If you don’t want to drink it, don’t.” Guinevere shrugged as she took a small sip of hers. “It’s a rather good vintage, though. It’d be a shame if—”

  Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped as he downed the whole glass in one gulp. How could he possibly have tasted that? His nose wrinkled, as he smacked his lips and shrugged. Guinevere fought down a sliver of irritation. Well, she wasn’t going to be offering him more of that! Perhaps a cheap beer would be more to his liking. With a small huff, she sipped more of her wine and enjoyed the sweet, full-bodied flavor.

  “Right. Now that I’ve drunk your fancy strawberry wine—”

  “That was cherry.”

  “Whatever. I’ve drunk it, so you c
an answer my question now. Why’d you go to Gloria’s Gates to have sex when you’ve got a whole kingdom at your feet?”

  “Once in a while, I like to play a certain role. It’s not really possible to play it here.” She looked at the red liquid in her glass. “I am a queen, and as a queen, there are those who would take a simple request as an order or agree to my terms because they want bragging rights or to get something to use against me.”

  Twister stared at her hard.

  “It’s a vice.” She shrugged and gave him a small smile. “An indulgence, if you will. A queen can’t always be queen. Rather than get into heroin or cocaine like so many of my fellow rulers, I prefer to drink shifter blood and take certain herbs to make myself human. Or at least, as human as a vampire can get. Pumping blood and carnal desires. Then I go and find a suitable partner to fuck my brains out. You just happened to be him this last time.”

  She winked at him, to which he growled. A shiver ran down her spine, not in an unpleasant way. That was a growl of frustration, a growl of desire. She saw in his eyes that she was bringing him to her side. When he set the wine glass down, he stalked toward her. Another shiver pooled in her center. The small fire there grew even bigger. A pleased smile spread over her face.

  Twister leaned in and she lifted her face to his but rather than kissing her, he grabbed both her arms and growled again. “And why should I believe a single word you’re saying? If you were that girl that day… why didn’t I smell the vampire on you?”

  “Because I wasn’t a vampire,” she shot back. “Or at least… a human vampire. You must know by now that when a vampire drinks shifter blood—"

  “Their vampire traits are suppressed. Yeah, I know. So what shifters do you have locked away that you feed on?”