Angela Cameron - Blood Daemon.pdf - A - bella40

Blood Daemon

Angela Cameron

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any

resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is

entirely coincidental.

Blood Daemon

ISBN: 978-1-60088-442-9

Cover Artist: Croco Designs

Editor: Tracy Seybold

print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in

reviews.

Cobblestone Press, LLC

www.cobblestone-press.com

Dedication

To Malloree.

Always remember how strong you are.

I also want to give a big thanks to Tracy Seybold, editor extraordinaire! To the

wonderful team at Cobblestone, thank you for your hard work and support.

And to you, the reader. I hope that you have as much fun with Raven as I did.

Thank you so much for continuing to visit my worlds. They wouldn’t be the same

without you.

Chapter One

Raven Montgomery moved between the writhing couples on the dance floor,

weaving through the stench of human sweat that mingled with the sweet, metallic

aroma of blood. The white strobe flashes highlighted the group of Bian’s thugs in the

corner, showing them in slow frames that reminded her of the old moving pictures

she’d seen so long ago.

Jareth, the wall of leather, long midnight hair, and muscle that she called a

daemon, sidled up to her. He pushed people out of the way and moved with her

toward the group of thugs in the corner booth. “Want me to toss them out?”

“I’ll take them.” She motioned toward a young female biting into the neck of the

human frat boy in the corner. “You handle that.”

“Sure thing.”

She watched him move away and smiled. In the years since Jareth agreed to be

her daemon, he’d also become her best friend. His title required him to put his life on

the line for hers. He was her guardian, bound by blood, but nothing else. Nothing in

their laws required him to be anything other than loyal and willing to take a stake for

her. So, it was a nice surprise that he wasn’t as reserved as the daemons the other

leaders had. He wasn’t cold or distant. No, Jareth was warm and comfortable like a

great old t-shirt.

Raven kept weaving until she broke free of the crowd and drew the thugs’

attention. Seeing their faces clearly, she realized she knew them. The bald one was a

South American illegal named Carlos. He sat in the middle with two young humans on

each side of him. They were typical, unimpressive, and straight out of Southside.

Carlos, on the other hand, was an experienced mercenary who deserved attention when

he made a point of showing up at your home. Bian had sent his best, the bastard.

Carlos lifted his chin in her direction and rubbed a tattooed hand over his head.

Raven moved up to the table and folded her arms under her breasts. She was

glad she’d worn the jeans and t-shirt. If things went badly, at least she had on the

closest things to fighting clothes that she could wear in the club without drawing too

much attention. “What’s going on, Carlos?”

“What?” He smirked. “I can’t visit my favorite Goth club without raising

suspicion?”

She glanced to the monochrome patrons, then to his Latino entourage. “You

don’t exactly fit in.”

Carlos nodded and laughed, but his eyes narrowed. “The boss wanted me to

report. He’s…concerned.”

“Why?”

“You don’t have a mate. No mate, no power.”

Raven’s stomach twisted in a knot. The old rule those sexist, ancient vampires

used to keep their females in line was coming up again. No one, especially not her

creator, was willing to let her slide by without taking what amounted to a husband who

would take over her business—and her life.

She slammed her hands down on the table, and the glasses rocked. She leaned

her body forward, and the humans leaned back just a little. “I don’t need a fucking

mate.”

Carlos scratched behind his ear and smiled at her. “You need one before next

month or they’re going to find you one.”

“Why?” Her voice cracked in anger, but she didn’t try to hide it.

“You’re weak without a mate. You leave us all open.”

“I don’t need a man to make this work. I’ve been in charge for four years.”

“That’s the point. You get five years, and time will be up in a few months.”

“I don’t want a mate.”

“Not your choice.”

She shook her head and stomped toward the staircase that led up to her office.

She moved quickly up the stairs, shouldering people out of the way when they didn’t

move. They’d lost their damned minds if they thought they were going to push a man

into her life. This was bullshit. If they thought she was going to cave just because a few

members of the Good Ol’ Vampire Boys’ Club rattled their chains, they were crazy. She

might not have harnessed her full power, but she was close. Closer than anyone else

had been without a mate, and she didn’t need one to finish it. She wasn’t going to give

up. She would be the first female territory leader to break through that ridiculous rule,

even if she had to fight every one of them to do it.

Raven crossed the few feet to her diamond plate door, stepped inside and

slammed it behind her. She let out a scream and moved to the desk. Reaching for the

phone, she punched the number to Bian’s loft in Tampa. If he didn’t have the balls to

confront her personally, he could at least talk to her on the phone.

The phone jerked from her hand and landed on the receiver again. Raven jerked

her head around.

Carlos was there.

There wasn’t time to fight. He just picked her up and hurled her body across the

room. She hit the opposite wall with a loud crack, then started the short slide to the

floor, but he was in front of her again. Carlos grabbed her by the throat and held her

against the wall.

She opened her mouth to speak and nothing came out. It didn’t matter. What

was there to say to a pissed off mercenary?

He licked a long line up her neck.

Raven felt his tongue barb scratch along her skin. She pushed at his chest and

kicked, but he didn’t budge. Fuck.

“Not so strong, female. Not so strong.” He struck, quick like the cobra tattooed

on his arm, and plunged his fangs into her neck.

Pain shot through her head and arm. He bit too hard, too deep. She heard herself

scream. The tightening throat muscles only made the pain worse as he pulled the life

out through the new holes in her neck. She wanted to grab the knife from her boot, but

stabbing him would only get her hurt. Killing him, the boss’ messenger, would bring

her life to a painful, fiery end.

Raven’s eyes fluttered shut. She felt the life’s blood flowing out of her, taking the

magic that animated her body with it. Shit. He wouldn’t kill her, but he would drain her

until the lights went out so he could leave safely.

“Let go of her. Slowly, motherfucker.”

Jareth’s voice made her eyes open. His eyes glowing with a fierce blue light. His

body was tensed for battle, jaw clenching. His big hand gripped a Tazer, pressing its

metal prongs into Carlos’ neck. The other clamped down on the man’s shoulder to keep

him from rolling away.

Carlos pulled his teeth out, then let her go. He stepped back in tandem with

Jareth.

She couldn’t stop herself from sliding to the floor as the two moved toward the

door.

“I know you’re here on business, that’s why I’m not killing you. Get your boys

and get out of here. If you’re still around in five minutes, I’ll take my chances with

Bian.” Jareth smirked and shoved Carlos into the door.

“Fine. We’ll leave, but I’ll be back if she doesn’t mate. You can’t stop them from

enforcing the law.” He opened the door and shut it again quickly.

Raven felt the blood oozing down her neck. She wasn’t strong enough to heal

quickly because he’d taken so much. Left alone, he’d probably have sealed the wounds

to keep her from dying, but now she was freely bleeding, with only her hand to hold

back the pulsing flow.

She closed her eyes and tried to stop the room from spinning.

“Rave?”

She heard Jareth move close and kneel in front of her.

“Fuck. You’re still bleeding.”

He pulled her hand away and clamped his lips over the wound, then stroked his

tongue over it. His mouth left her, while his hands held her upright. “It’s still going.

Here.”

Jareth pulled her close, wrapping those heavy, warm arms around her, and

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