Annie Nicholas - Sigma

They’d been so young and naïve when they’d hired Daedalus to train them to fight. Sam hadn’t expected Eric to actually win the challenge. For fuck sakes, he’d had been fine with just living through the whole nightmare. They’d fought off take-overs, kidnappers, and recruited a slayer. Not bad for a bunch of omega dweebs.

“Sam?” A small voice broke into his thoughts.

He shook his head, ignoring his growing shame, and smiled at the petite vampire in his arms. Her short, spring-formed curls cut close to her head stirred in the breeze. She appeared delicate and fragile in his arms. With rosebud lips, sparkling brown eyes, and a flush blooming over her pale cheeks, she almost seemed human. “You call him master?” He nodded toward the departing Audi. “What do I have to do to get you to call me that?”

Ignoring the burning in her back, Clementine swung her arm in an arc and slapped the smug grin off Sam’s face.

He staggered, almost dropping her, but kept his hold and balance. She must be weak from blood loss. The strike should have knocked him out.

Wriggling out of his arms, she clutched her sides. Pain radiated from her spine around to her abdomen. Sharp stabs still plagued every breath. She lifted the edge of her ruined t-shirt and examined her front. No exit wound.

The bullet was still in her, which meant it would hurt until someone dug it out. Her stomach turned at the idea. “I’m going to be sick.” She sunk to her knees and bowed her head.

“Easy.” Sam rubbed her neck. “Slow breaths. What can I do to help?”

She glimpsed his bare thighs, her eyes wandering higher and growing wider. “You’re naked.” She focused on the grass again, her nausea forgotten.

He chuckled. “I haven’t had time to dress since shifting.” He pulled on a pair of torn jeans that hung too low on his hips. If anything, they made him appear more appetizing.

“I need to feed.”

“Here.” He offered her his wrist.

“First, we need to dig out the bullet in my back. If I feed now, I’ll heal faster and then you’ll have to cut me open again.”

Silence.

She glanced at him.

His face drained of color as he swallowed visibly. “I don’t think we should hang around here, though.” He gestured to the decapitated Pal Robi security.

“I agree.” On unsteady legs, she rose and shuffled to his car.

He raced ahead of her and opened her door, then set his shredded shirt over the passenger seat. “Blood stains are hard on the upholstery.”

Ignoring the half-naked shifter, she curled forward on her seat, splinting her sides. For a moment she had mistaken him for a gentleman.

“Seat belt.” He reached around her.

She jerked at his touch, wincing at the sharp stab. “Are you joking? I’m shot and you’re worried about a belt?”

“After the night I’ve had? We’re bound to get into more trouble. It follows me like a bad smell lately. The last thing I need is to have a car accident and you thrown from the vehicle.” He weaved the belt through her limbs and clipped her in. “You are one tough broad. That bullet should have torn right through you.”

She almost smiled at his praise, but it galled her. “The bullets are special made to lodge in a vampire’s body. Not to kill, but to wound and slow prey with pain. As the wound heals, it hurts more.”

He shuddered. “Sadistic bastards.”

“Daedalus developed them.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He closed her door and entered on the driver’s side. “They wanted you alive, then?”

“Sam, can we talk less and drive more? My wound is closing.”

The engine protested as Sam cranked the key and pumped the gas pedal. His shaggy dark brown hair settled around his shoulders in a just-fell-out-of-bed way. Thick muscles moved under his skin as he cranked the key again.

Was that a prayer he’d just mumbled under his breath? She had risked her eternal existence for her master and he had abandoned her. Left her shot, with a stranger in a car that wouldn’t start, for a damaged human female.

Maybe the rumors were true? Whispers at Pal Robi suggested Daedalus had grown a heart.

She smiled inside. That would be something to witness.

Sam cursed a string of swears that left her ears stinging. The car wouldn’t start and sirens sang in the distance. He started swearing again.

The pain worsened but it didn’t compare to her growing fear. What were they going to do? She wasn’t accustomed to having to make split second life-depending decisions. Her world had consisted of meetings and memos.

Jumping out of the car, Sam opened her door, undid her belt, grabbed his cellphone, and carried her away like a hero out of a fairy tale. “We need to not be here.”

“Too bad it wasn’t closer to dawn. The bodies would vanish with the sunlight.” She stared over his shoulder at the dead vampires.

He jogged away from the cars. “Doesn’t matter. In this city, they’ll do a minimal investigation because no humans were involved. However, it’s still better not to be here. They might want a scapegoat and sometimes they forget to give vampires cells with no windows. If you get what I mean.”

The jostling jarred her injuries. “Where are we going?” She gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out.

He crossed the street and entered the first alley available. Continuing to jog until he rounded the corner of the building, he set her on her feet, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll call for someone to pick us up.”

She leaned against the wall and sank to the ground, a hard lump forming in her chest. “The cops will look for you once they run your plates.” She never should have answered her master’s call, never downloaded those secured files, and never have come to Chicago.

“Damn, my phone is dead. Where’s yours?”

She shook her head. Her phone lay in the grass where she’d dropped it when she was shot. Tears burned behind her eyelids as she squeezed them shut.

Sam growled, the sound fierce and frustrated. He knelt by her and gently gathered her in his arms. “It’ll be okay, Clementine. I’ll take care of you.”

Good, it was about time someone did. She leaned her head on his shoulder. She would not cry. She would not cry. She kept repeating this litany as if it were a defensive spell, but the tears were close to winning.

“I see a motel down the block. It’s not five star, more like a shit hole, but they might not ask about my clothes or your blood, and they’ll have a phone in the room. I can take care of your bullet in there.”

Sam ground his teeth at Clementine’s stubbornness and hovered around her in case she fell.

Blood soaked the back of her pink t-shirt and dripped, leaving a gruesome trail as she walked along the exterior balcony toward their motel room on the second floor. “You paid with cash like I told you?” She weaved on unsteady feet.

“Yes, ma’am.” He barely had enough money in his wallet to buy a soda now. “No credit card to track.” He reached out to grab her elbow, but she swatted his fingertips. Reflexively, he shook the sting away. “Playing tough and insisting on walking doesn’t get you brownie points if you pass out.”

He unlocked and opened their room door. The scent of cheap air freshener and stale sweat swept over him. He turned and sneezed.

“Bless you.”

He wiped his mouth. “Thanks.” Wasn’t there some supernatural law against vampires being polite?

“It smells odd in here.” She leaned against the door frame and pointed to the faded yellow bed. “Can you pull off the blanket?”

“We got what we paid for, a cheap-ass room. At least they don’t charge by the hour.” He winked and did as Clementine asked, then watched as she crawled onto their bed, lying on her stomach. “What can I do to help?” The deep red stain continued to spread under his scrutiny. “When Daedalus was staked, he didn’t bleed like this.”