Alpha Trio 3: A Special Taste by Ana Vela Page A

wished she could hear better.
     
    Unwilling to give up, Grig called enough of his wolf forward to punch through the fat, balding vamp’s chest and tear out the thumping heart, squeezing it in his bloody fist. He snarled, lips pulling back from his teeth as he watched the vampire crumple to his knees and begin to melt into a sticky puddle of bloodsucker soup.
     
    One down, four to go.
     
    But Grig knew it was a loosing battle. He was badly injured. Not just the broken collarbone, but a few shattered ribs, a gash in his throat that steadily pumped blood, and a tear in his side that ached abominably. Also, he was pretty sure his right knee was broken.
     
    “Don’t kill him,” he heard one of them hiss as the black dots in his vision began to coalesce into darkness. If they weren’t trying to kill him, they were doing a pretty bad job of it. “We need him alive.”
     
    Why? What would vamps want with him?
     
    A few months ago, when Cassandra had first stumbled on him and his brothers fighting with some vamps, she’d overheard one of them thinking about the discovery they’d made  – some human women were different, Other, Cassandra called them, and their DNA was compatible with Shifters.
     
    What this meant to the vamps, they didn’t know. But ever since the bloodsuckers had accidentally discovered this fact, they’d been trying to kidnap Cat, Em’s human Mate. She was ‘Other’. As was Cassandra, though so far they didn’t think the vamps knew about her.
     
    So why would they be trying to kidnap him? Grig was 100% Shifter.
     
    Pain throbbed in all his limbs and his head felt like a deflating balloon. He was ashamed of himself. Taken down by vamps because he was drunk . His mother would probably have his name expunged from the Lupei family records in disgrace.
     
    Just before the blackness overtook him completely, the vampire on his back loosened his hold and gave a sudden shriek. Over the sweetly cloying powdery scent of the vamps, Grig smelled something light and floral. Like roses. He caught the fleeting glimpse of black and white silk stained with a red smear. It was beautiful.
     
    *****
     

Someone was smacking his cheek.
     
    “Motherfuck. You’re heavy as shit. Come on, wolfie, open those baby blues. Help me out here, would you?”
     
    Her voice was husky. Distractingly so. Not with emotion. Grig could tell that without even opening his eyes. She sounded slightly aggravated, but not scared or upset. Just naturally raspy. He wondered idly what she’d sound like when she was aroused. The thought sent a sudden bolt of lust straight to his groin.
     
    It was enough to make him realize the rest of his body ached like he’d been run over. He blinked his eyes open, and then lay still for a moment, confused. Because everything was still pitch dark. He could feel a rough concrete floor under his ass, and what felt like smooth, cool wood against his back. But that was it. Where was he? And how had he gotten there?
     
    “What’s going on?” His mouth was full of the iron taste of blood.
     
    He felt her hands on his face in the blackness. Her skin was soft and smooth, cool against his heated cheeks. She slid her hands down to his jaw and pressed, checking his pulse. The scent of roses was coming from her, Grig realized. It was delicate and feminine. The snort was anything but.
     
    “What’s going on is I dragged your drunk, bleeding ass into this basement in case any other vamps are in the vicinity. You’re freakin’ big, you know that?”
     
    Who was this woman? She smelled human. Sort of. An ‘Other’? He hadn’t noticed anything all that different about either Cat or Cassandra’s scents.
     
    “You dragged me in here?” He didn’t know where ‘here’ was, exactly, but this chick must be a body builder. He wasn’t quite as tall and broad as Drei or Em, but he was no lightweight. 6’2” tall and nearly 200 pounds of muscle. And how had she fought off four vamps on her own? How