“It looks like I don’t have a choice.”

Elaine’s green eyes hold mine. “Too much has happened to get us here. Too many supposed coincidences. I’m more certain than ever we’re going to get you through this.”

I nod, wishing I had her confidence. Unfortunately, all I feel is dread.

Derek

Dim light fills my suite. The curtains are drawn and soft music, a capella male voices singing in a foreign language, drifts quietly from the sound system.

I’ve filled the Jacuzzi tub halfway. It’s too small for the three of us. We’ll have to do our best to keep everything in the water. Otherwise, I’m not sure how we’ll hide the mess.

Stuart is stripped to the waist. Light from the candles casts deep shadows across the lines of his arms and torso, and he holds an old, leather-bound book in his hands. Patrick walks around the room clenching and unclenching his fists as if warming up for a race. I’m trying to stay calm, focused. What we’re about to do is excruciatingly painful for me, but it will increase our chances of success.

I walk over and sit on the side of the tub, lowering my feet into the water. Five minutes, I say in my mind. I can bear the pain for five minutes. Then I’ll sleep. When I wake, I won’t feel any pain. I’ll actually feel like I’ve taken the strongest dose of steroids in the world.

Still my pulse ticks faster. I have to work to calm my breathing. Stuart’s focused solemnity doesn’t help.

“Hey,” Patrick laughs, breaking the mood. “What have we here?”

I glance up to see him holding a scrap of what appears to be black lace, but it’s too dark for me to know for sure. “What is it?” I ask.

Stuart walks over and takes it from him. “Nice,” he says, pulling it to his nose for a sniff. “Nope. She’s not mine.”

Suddenly I realize what he’s holding and hop out of the tub. “Give me that.” Snatching Melissa’s thong from his hands, I carry it over to the nightstand and put her panties in my drawer. “Fucking right she’s not yours. She’s mine.”

“Good taste,” Stuart says with a grin. “I’m glad to see you’re getting back out there.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Yes,” he says, returning to serious and following me to the tub.

We step into the warm, swirling water. Patrick carries a tall pillar candle with him as he steps in. We’re all stripped to the waist now, and Stuart reaches for the thing I’ve been dreading.

In the dim light, he raises a thick, steel knife with a twisted blade. Writing is on the sides and scrollwork is along the handle.

“The blood of the shifter is sacred.” Stuart speaks the words I’ve heard before as he hands the ritual knife to Patrick. Patrick holds the blade over the flame. “Sharing it is a gift. It makes you our brother as long as it flows in your veins.”

Using the razor-sharp tip, Patrick cuts a line down the center of his forearm. Dark red blood, almost black, immediately surges to the surface. Patrick only winces as he passes the knife to his alpha, who repeats the procedure before turning to me.

Quickly, Stuart makes an identical slice in my arm.

“Shit,” I growl as blood bubbles up on my forearms. It’s lighter in color than theirs and slightly thinner.

The knife-metal burns like fucking fire, and Stuart quickly flattens his forearm against mine, clasping my elbow in his fist, lining our wounds on top of one another. Patrick does the same on my other side, and my teeth grind as their shifter blood floods my veins.

“Fuck,” I growl through my clenched jaw.

Their blood is heavier than mine, and it feels like slow, painful molasses ripping through my forearms, searing my veins.

Stuart begins to chant slowly.

May my hand never separate itself from the fraternal hand of my brothers.

May my feet walk by the side of my brothers because we walk in the steps of light.

May my eyes look to heaven with my brothers, for we seek justice and truth.

May brotherhood emerge among all the beings.

May peace be established in the inner essence.

Until the evil is driven out from among us.

We are the protectors of the light.

Amen.

By the final sentences, I’m able to look up and see his lips aren’t moving. I’m hearing his words in my mind as the shifter blood takes over, uniting us telepathically.

Patrick’s voice joins the Amen in my head. The pain lessens. Shifter strength quickly rises in my body, changing my basic cell structure. It’s only a temporary change, but while it lasts, I’ll be almost as powerful as them, and the three of us will be united in our thoughts. We’ll be able to track each other.

“Rest now,” Stuart’s voice is in my head as he releases my elbow. “That’s more than you’ve ever taken. You need a few hours to adjust.”

My head is dizzy, and I hold onto the side of the tub while Patrick binds my arms with cloths. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go,” he says in my mind.

Nodding, I lift my feet out of the swirling pink water. Only a few drops were lost in the tub. Two steps and I crash on the soft cotton sheets. My senses are already heightened, and I smell her ocean-kissed roses on my pillow. Melissa is the last thing I remember until it’s time to face our shared enemy.

8

Betrayals Derek

The white faces of the tombs in Lafayette Cemetery are pale blue in the dying sunlight. We decided to follow the same setup as last time so the bloodsuckers will know it’s us returning.

I’m dressed as before in loose jeans, heavy boots, and a black T-shirt. Again, the small gun loaded with silver bullets is in my boot, and this time, I have a stake in my back pocket.

Two notable changes, however—Patrick insisted on resuming his preferred form of German shepherd, saying his movements are too slow as a larger breed. Stuart is an oversized Rottweiler at my side. Both are wearing the heavy silver chain collars. In addition to looking badass, the collars protect their necks from injury.

We don’t speak aloud. It’s one of the primary benefits of the transfusion. Our plan is to start at the tomb where the old one was hiding last time, and if he’s no longer there, we’ll work our way down the rows. The dogs can follow the scent of the vampires. Unfortunately, it’s the only power that never crosses through the blood to me.

We’re only a few tombs deep into the ancient burial ground when Stuart’s back bristles. He stops, and a low growl rumbles through his throat.

They’ve been this way recently, Patrick tells me, picking up the scent along with his brother.

All of my muscles peak. We’re on high alert. We round a tall crypt, and we’re in the shadows of five monuments. The further in we go, the darker it gets, until it happens. My skin tingles. A dark silhouette rises from the gloom ahead of me on the path.

It’s not the same vampire I fought, Patrick says. It’s a new one.

The three of us stop in our tracks. New ones are as dangerous as old ones, primarily because they’re unpredictable. They’re still learning their powers, and they take inexplicable risks.

He’s using it to alert him of our location, Stuart says. I’ll take care of this thing.

A low growl rumbles in his thick body, and I can feel his adrenaline kicking up a notch. My pulse rate quickens in response, and Patrick begins to pace.

The thing is drawing closer, making hissing noises and flashing hideous red eyes. It’s a male, dressed in skinny jeans and a threadbare shirt. He looks like what’s left of a homeless runaway, and it’s possible he had mental illness at the time of his transformation.