Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Sammy stood, rooted in place, her gaze fixed on the sight of the dead men lying in the loading area. Some were missing their throats. Others were bent at impossible angles. And one was missing a head. It was nowhere to be seen.

How did one lose a head?

It wasn't like heads grew legs and walked off on their own.

Did they?

With everything she was suddenly learning about the supernatural, she wasn't so sure anymore.

Bile rose quickly, as well as fear.

She'd never seen anything like it before in her life and didn't want to ever again.

All she wanted were her car keys that were in her clutch bag and her shoes if they were accessible. Though she was willing to run out into the night without them if need be. Especially if the vampire was capable of the carnage she was staring at.

He'd been one man against six and he'd caused that much damage.

She didn't want to believe he'd harm her. Why would he have helped her if he wanted to hurt her? But she couldn't be sure. When she'd learned what he was, she'd panicked. Then when she'd seen him starting to change into something straight out of a horror movie, she lost it.

One second she'd been freaking out about meeting a real live vampire while covered in blood, and the next, her power was shooting from her and right at him.

She had to admit she felt a little bad about that.

Sure, he was scary-looking with his dagger claws and black eyes, but still.

What if she'd killed him?

Could vampires die? Weren't they already dead to start with? And how had he ended up as a stone statue? Was that a vampire thing too?

She seriously needed to have a crash course on vampire lore. And dragon-shifters. And stone statues coming to life. And anything else that was out there.

If she managed to get out of this situation alive, she planned to have a very long talk with Ezra. She was going to make him tell her about every type of supernatural out there.

She spotted her clutch across the room on the floor, near the foot of one of the dead men.

Of course.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, only to regret it the moment she got a good whiff of blood and death.

"Don't puke," she said. "Just get the keys and go. Don't focus on the dead bodies. Don't think about the fact you just electrocuted a vampire in your office. A really sexy one but still, a vampire. Eyes ahead."

She tried to listen to herself but found it impossible not to stare at the dead bodies around her. Blood had started to congeal around the headless body, and she fought hard to keep from being sick.

Her gaze went upward and she did a double take when she saw the missing head was impaled on an overhead sprinkler.

"Yep. I'm going to hurl," she said, gagging and touching her stomach, trying to soothe it.

The amount of force and strength it must have taken for Wheeler to rip a man's head clean off and then manage to impale it on a sprinkler head that was a good thirty feet off the ground spoke volumes to just how powerful the male was.

"Stop thinking about him. Just get your keys, get in your car, and drive all the way to Holland and Ezra's place. Screw the airport. Just keep driving and don't look back. Don't ever look back."

Her pep talk got her to take a few steps in the direction of her clutch before something else occurred to her.

There had been six men to start with.

She only saw five bodies—and a head.

Wheeler hadn't eaten the sixth one, had he?

Did vampires do that?

Was the sixth body impaled on something else?

She stared upward again, looking for it, scared it would fall from the rafters and land on her or something.

There was no sign of it.

She did a quick once-over of the dead littered about and looked at the head on the sprinkler. Abel was the guy who was missing. Wherever he was, she hoped he never came back.

She took another step and found herself standing next to one of the men, who was bent oddly, like Wheeler had tried to make a pretzel out of him, but otherwise intact. "Don't look at him."

She held her head high, shaking as she went to take another step.

Something seized hold of her ankle and yanked her off her feet.

She went down hard next to the man and turned slightly to find his gaze locked on hers. His eyes were filled with black and he hissed, fangs flashing in the process.

Vampire!

The art gallery was clearly infested.

The next she knew, he struck out and bit into her collarbone area.

The pain left her screaming and pushing at his face, trying to get him to release his hold on her. But he was latched on for dear life.

Try as she might, she couldn't get her inborn protection system to kick into gear. Where were the sparks and floating objects when she needed them?

Sammy pushed harder at the man's head as tears streaked down her temples.

There was a deep snarl, and then the man was torn free from her.

Glancing up, she found Wheeler there, lifting the man off the floor with one hand. Oddly, she nearly shouted for joy at the sight of a man she'd electrocuted minutes prior in her office.

In her defense, she hadn't exactly meant to do that to Wheeler, so much as she'd freaked out, lost control, and zapped him.

He was clearly more resilient than she'd thought.

She wasn't sure why that shocked her. The guy had managed to come to life after being stone. Getting zapped by her probably was just another walk in the park for him.

He held the man, whose body was still partially misshapen, as if he'd had his limbs broken in multiple locations.

Wheeler hissed at the guy who had bit her, and Sammy spotted fangs on him now as well.

For some reason, he didn't look anywhere near as scary as the one who had bitten her. Yet she was pretty sure Wheeler's fangs were bigger. And the evidence of how powerful he was just happened to still be impaled on a sprinkler head above.

The man he was holding laughed as Sammy's blood dripped down his chin. "Do what you want to me, Shadow Agent."

"I plan to," returned Wheeler. "And I'm not a Shadow Agent, asshole."

"You are," said the man with glee in his eyes. "How do you think we found you? Your friends got you officially brought on as a full-fledged PSI member. Bad move. Might as well have painted the target on you themselves. They pretty much handed you to us, asshole."

Wheeler narrowed his gaze on the man. "The rogues in PSI. They aren't cleaned out yet, are they?"

The man looked like he was about to burst from excitement. "No. And they never will be. We're entrenched. We're everywhere. We're everything."

"You're about to be nothing," said Wheeler, lifting the man higher. "What do you have to say to that? You shouldn't have touched her. You will never touch her again."

"Killing me doesn't keep her safe." The man snorted. "Abel has your bitch's scent. He's gonna track her and gut her. She'll never be safe. He's probably already got the backup team prepped to make a play for her. See, he's gonna take this defeat personally. He's got a weird hang-up with you. And you're going to pay for it."

"Where is he?" demanded Wheeler, his voice sounding extra deep.

The man chortled. "Long fucking gone. When you were in the other area worried about your bitch, he was here, burning her scent into his memory and tasting her blood. I saw the look in his eyes. This is personal to him now. He'll come for your woman when you least expect it."

"S-she's not my…woman," stuttered Wheeler, as if the words hadn't wanted to come easily.

Sammy stood and grabbed her neck, knowing it was still bleeding. Was the bad guy talking about her? Was she the woman he thought was Wheeler's?

"You should have let us take you in," said the man to Wheeler. "We'd have made the bitch's death quick. But no. You had to play the hero. Now you put a target on her."

Wheeler brought the man closer to his face and lowered his voice. "No one is going to touch her."

"Because she's yours?" asked the man with a laugh. "Is that it? I have to admit I thought it was weird that the people in charge routed the delivery truck with you on it here, to this place. I mean, why pick an art gallery? Why not just have you delivered straight to one of our labs? But I get it now. They knew she'd be here. They wanted you near her, and I think they wanted us to attack her. I think they knew what it would do to you—that it would make you turn back into a man."

Wheeler growled, sounding animal-like.

Sammy should have run, putting distance between herself and the men, but she didn't. A part of her was happy she'd not actually killed Wheeler with the piece of wood to his chest or the electricity. And another part of her was curious about what the man was saying.

Was he right?

Had this all been planned?

If so, why?

Holland's speech about mates came flooding back to her, and she gasped, still holding the wound on her neck. "Ohmygod, they think we're mates? That I'm Wheeler's special person?"

Wheeler's gaze snapped to her and in that moment, nothing about him seemed human-like. He looked deadly.

Feral even.

She tensed.

The man he was holding laughed more as his left arm began to straighten, looking nearly normal. At least until long dagger-like nails grew from his fingertips. That was anything but ordinary.

Wheeler didn't seem to notice.

His attention was on her. He took a deep breath, and his eyes rolled back into his head momentarily. "The smell of your blood called to me in the darkness. Your voice, it spoke to me— through me. Guiding me."

The man he was holding huffed. "Oh yeah. I was right. They wanted this. You planted before her. Her in danger. Abel probably figured it out too. He'll be coming for her, and you won't be able to stop him. He's a fucking monster. Do you know how many people he killed before he even became what he is now? He's been a sick fuck since birth."

Sammy watched in what felt like slow-motion as the man swiped out at Wheeler's neck with his clawed hand. Wheeler didn't react.

He was still too busy staring at her in disbelief.

She reacted, rushing forward and slamming into the man, knocking him free from Wheeler's hold. Still acting on total instinct, she spun around and put her hands out. Electricity came forth from them, slamming into the man. He flew backward and landed on part of the broken crate.

Sammy was to him in a heartbeat, grabbing a discarded piece of wood and lifting it high in the air before bringing it down and through the man's chest.

He gasped, his body jerking as he gurgled blood, and then the next she knew, Wheeler was there, grabbing her and pulling her away a second before the man's body burst into flames.

Wheeler rolled with her, and when they came to a stop, he was on top of her, staring down, cupping her face.

She grabbed his hands but didn't push them off her.

Instead, she teared up. "He was going to slice your throat open."

Wheeler had the audacity to grin.

Did he not get how much danger he'd been in?

His grin gave way to a full-blown smile. He then winked. "Thanks, Buffy."

Confusion knit her brow.

Their gazes locked.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" she asked.

"You staked a vampire. Okay, you staked two vampires tonight," he said, staying on top of her. "And because I know it bothers you."

"Oh," she said, noticing just how muscular the man was all over.

He lowered his head more, taking a deep breath. "You smell so good."

So did he, but she kept that bit to herself.

One second he was staring down at her, and the next his lips were hovering just above hers; the need to kiss him was all-consuming. She nearly surrendered to it, wanting to sample his lips, but she resisted if for no other reason than the fact they were surrounded by death and carnage.

She thought more on the man who had been about to slit Wheeler's throat and what she'd done to him. She'd killed him.

Her eyes widened. "I killed someone."

Wheeler nodded. "Yes. Very well, I might add."

She gulped, torn between hyperventilating and vomiting.

Wheeler stayed above her. "Sammy."

Her bottom lip trembled. "I'm a killer."

"He would have killed you if given the chance," said Wheeler, his voice low, as if he was worried talking loudly might set her off.

He was right.

It would have.

She was teetering on the edge of an all-out massive breakdown. "H-how did I kill him? I'm not a killer. Well, not normally. Now I'm apparently Dirty Harry."

Wheeler blinked down at her before bringing his hand to her cheek. He caressed it gently. "You acted on instinct. Thank you for that."

Confused, her brow creased.

"Had you not, he'd have succeeded in catching me off guard. I'd lost my focus. He'd have exploited that and slit my throat. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you," he said, his voice still low and even.

She teared up at the thought of Wheeler being dead and gone, despite barely knowing the man.

"Are you about to cry because you had to take a life?"

"No," she said in a hushed whisper. "Because I thought about you being dead. I don't like the idea of that. Let's not bring it up again. Okay? I'm feeling very emotionally delicate right now. Like right before my period."

He quirked and looked to be fighting a laugh. "I see. So I should keep that in mind once a month?"

She began to calm slightly. "Yes. I go from teary to willing to rip someone's face off right before that time of the month. Consider yourself warned. I'll make the head on the sprinkler look like child's play."

He grinned as he moved his hips slightly, grinding just right to elicit a gasp from her. "Noted."

She appreciated his humor at the moment. It helped to calm her down. Another thought occurred to her. "Can vampires tell when a woman is menstruating?"

He nodded, looking almost turned on by the line of questioning.

Her face scrunched slightly. "Tell me that isn't exciting for you."

"So you want me to start our relationship out with lies?" he asked, a small smirk gracing his handsome face.

"I'm going to be sick," she said.

"Why? It's a perfectly natural thing. There is nothing wrong with it. If you ask me, it's downright perfect." He waggled his brows.

She pushed on his face. "I see where you're going with this and I'm going to need you to stop now. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

He winked. "Fine. But let the record state, I'm totally and completely fine with it. You should know something else."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but what?"

He put his face close to hers once more. "We can smell when a woman's body is most receptive to—"

She pinched his lips shut.

He laughed despite her fingers being there.

Unable to help it, the stress of the night left her chuckling nervously as well. She released his lips. "We should get up now. I'm pretty much covered in blood and guts."

"Great, isn't it?" he asked with another wink.

She groaned and rolled her eyes.

He stiffened, turning his head fast, staring off in the direction of the open bay door.

Tensing, Sammy worried that Abel would come leaping through it, ready to kill them both.

"Vehicles are approaching," he said, jumping up fast. He put his hand out to her and helped her to her feet gently. He then grabbed her hand and practically dragged her in the direction of her office.

"Wheeler, slow down," she said, worried he might tear her arm off without meaning to.

They made it just inside the office area when she pulled away, shaking her head. "Stop. What's happening now? Should we call the police?"

"Sammy, I think you know this is beyond what the police can help with," he said evenly.

He was right.

She knew as much.

Something clanged in the warehouse section.

Sammy's eyes widened and she moved in his direction slightly. "Is that Abel?" she mouthed.

Wheeler sniffed the air and stiffened. "No."

"Och, I do nae think the lass we're lookin' for could have survived this," said a familiar, heavily Scottish-accented voice from warehouse.

Sammy covered the distance between them quickly, pressing her body to his. She shook slightly.

Wheeler groaned as he grabbed her shoulders gently. "Woman, I really want to toss you down and fuck you. Please keep that in mind as you press against me."

Her eyes widened. "Oh."