Page 3 of The Blood Debt

Orlov jerked him over once again and poured a whiskey down his throat. It was good whiskey, but he wasn't enjoying it. "Drink, you little bitch; anything you spill, you'll pay for." He ground out the threat angrily and punched him in the side of the head. It wasn't too bad, but it made him dizzy for a moment. Wolves were powerful, and even light hits could be devastating to a small shifter.

"I'm saving you for later, boy. You and I are going to have a real good time, and you're going to tell me how much you love it. If you don't convince me, I'll beat you bloody." He ended with a tone that was deadly, and Bram felt his skin crawl and his heart race. "That scared you, little bunny. I have so many things planned for you tonight, little bunny. Tell me you want me, tell me you love it when I touch you, tell me you ache for me."

Bram didn't know what to do or what to say. He started to shake, and his leg began to tremble. It was a tick that most rabbits possessed, and with Bram it tended to manifest during periods of dire dread. Other rabbits told him it happened when they were happy, but Bram had never known happiness great enough to cause the tremble; he'd had many experiences of dread and fear that had caused it.

The fact that he didn't speak fast enough enraged the wolf, and Orlov backhanded him across the mouth so hard it knocked his head back and split his lip open. Blood sprayed across the table and Bram lay on the floor at Orlov’s feet.

***

Daley could not take his eyes off the group in the back. The wolves and their group of chained and collared boys were sickening, to say the least. He was troubled by the scene and couldn’t shake the feeling of irritation and the need to do something. He was so distracted that he was missing orders and didn’t hear Rex speaking to him until he reached out and put a hand on Daley’s arm.

“Are you okay? Do you need a break?”

He was about to explain it away and try to get his mind back on the bar when there came a loud slap from the back of the room. It was skin on skin, a slap that was hard enough to carry over the noise of the club. Following the slap came a wave of scent so overpowering that Daley stumbled slightly and caught himself against the bar. Rex was still holding him by the upper arm and looking concerned.

Daley recovered immediately, and with a shattering roar he leaped over the bar and was at the table in the back in less than a second. His vampire was in complete control; his eyes were red with rage, and his body was primed for death. Rex was right behind him.

The blood of the small shifter hit the air and exploded in Daley's mind and senses. This was his beloved; the brutalized and humiliated pet was his beloved, and the realization destroyed his reason and control. His mind was focused on kill, protect, and secure; nothing else existed.

The guards tried to shift and attack, but they were no match for an enforcer of the Rose Coven. Daley tore them apart; arms were ripped off, and hearts were torn out. The club exploded in chaos, people running and screaming, and Coven security rushing in to take control. Daley saw nothing but his beloved bleeding and crying on the dirty floor of the club.

Orlov shifted completely, not realizing that it was the shifter he'd left on the floor who was the catalyst for this bloodbath. Blood seeped from the corners of Daley's eyes as he locked onto the source of his beloved's pain and torment. Orlov moved to escape rather than attack, but Daley was not going to let him go. Rex was busy with the wolves who had been taking advantage of the cat shifter and felt a kinship with the syndicate men. They tried to intervene, but Rex took them out with his bare hands, leaving them both dead on the floor.

The cat shifter adjusted his clothing, and Rex broke the collar off his neck. "Get lost." He told the shifter, and he didn't have to tell him twice; the cat was gone in the blink of an eye. The foxes cowered under the table, holding one another, and waited.

Orlov made it only two steps before Daley jumped him, taking him to the floor and beating his face until Daley's fists were dripping with blood. He locked eyes with the wolf before spitting in his face. "How dare you touch my beloved?" Daley shouted the words at him, and Orlov panicked, suddenly struggling but knowing there would be no release except for death.

Daley sliced the wolf's throat with his nails and then drove his hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. The wolf was dead, but the threat to his beloved was still in the air. He saw the small man lying on the floor a few feet away and scooped him up into his arms. He didn't fight him; somewhere in the depths of his terrified mind, he knew Daley would not hurt him.

Daley kicked the table and told the foxes to leave. There were fights and people scrambling to get out, and security was containing everyone in the back. It was a fucking free-for-all, but Daley didn't care. He had one job and one focus, and it was the safety of the man in his arms.

Daley had tunnel vision; shit was coming apart around him, and he just walked right through it. He left by the back door and headed to the Coven house across the alley. No one stopped him. He had to get his beloved to his quarters, where he could protect, defend, and tend to his injuries. Those at the Coven house stepped back and let him pass, giving him room and not delaying him. His situation was easy to read, and they were letting him do what he needed to do.

Daley entered his quarters and went directly to his bedroom. There was an attached bathroom and supplies needed to see to the man’s wounds and his comfort. The shifter in his arms held to him with a grip that communicated trust and need. He wasn't afraid of him, which was good. The battle at the Blood Rose could have traumatized him, but luckily he was a shifter and not unaware of the dark side of the paranormal. The humans in attendance would be having a bad night, but that would be handled by others and not Daley's problem.

He sat him gently on the end of the bed and went into the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth, water basin, and first aid supplies. When he returned, the little rabbit had not moved, and his eye stared at Daley, wide and expectant, rimmed by uncertainty. That uncertainty hit him wrong. He didn't like it and would work to gain his complete faith and trust.

Daley grabbed one of his T-shirts from his drawer, figuring that it was long enough to cover the little shifter to his knees. The clothes he had on were destroyed, and Daley was just as glad they were because he did not like them; they were cheap and tasteless, and his beloved deserved only the best.

"You can take a shower if you'd like and put this on until I can get you proper clothes." He handed him the T-shirt. The small man looked up at him, his wide powder blue eyes wide with confusion.

"What is your name?" Daley asked as gently as he could in his current state.

"My name is Bram. I was bartered to the wolves three days ago by my colony for a debt they could not pay. I was orphaned and unattached, so they figured no one would care enough to fight their decision.” He continued to stare up at Daley, and it softened everything in Daley’s heart.

Daley had been so angry and violent because he needed to protect this man at all costs, but he was safe now; they were in his quarters he was safe from anything that might try to hurt him. Daley could let down his guard; his beloved needed gentleness.

“Did anyone fight their decision?”

"Only me, with zero success," Bram answered sadly. Daley looked at him, seeing the sensitivity and the strength. He was so beautiful; Daley had never seen a person so stunning. His blonde hair shone in the light, as did his moist blue eyes. The lips were the prize, so full and red they stood out from his pale complexion.

"My name is Daley. I'm an enforcer with the Rose Coven, and you are my beloved." He leaned closer to Bram and gently ran his fingertips down the side of his face. Bram closed his eyes and breathed softly. He was not unaffected. Bram leaned closer to Daley, getting his nose right up against Daley's throat, and took a deep breath. His eyes blew wide and his breath caught as he stammered an explanation.

“My sense of smell was damaged when I was young. I have to get very close to detect a scent." He smiled up at Daley, all teeth and happiness; it was lovely. "I can smell you now, and it is fantastic. You smell like wet grass and daisies."

"How was your ability to scent damaged?" Daley wanted to know all he could about this young man, and he had a hunch he wasn't going to like most of what he heard. His colony sounded like a bunch of bastards, selfish, dismissive bastards.

"I was making too much noise, and the elder in the room became angry. He slapped me hard and broke my nose." He said it like it was no big deal. Daley was cataloging the statements with an intent to give back what was dished out to his sweet, gentle beloved.