Hot Blooded

whispered the question, she was
pulling out a small instrument from a tool belt hooked around her waist to work
at the lock on the heavy cuffs. She carefully avoided looking at the cameras she
knew were locked on him.
    "We don't have too long. Can you walk? They'll send security after us and
we'll have to run." He was a big man and Juliette didn't think she had a prayer
of packing him out in a fireman's carry. She would try it though. She had come
to this place thinking it was a research lab for exotic jungle cats. She had
never expected to find a half-dead, obviously tortured man imprisoned within the
walls. She had never seen so much blood, such a ravaged face, such intense eyes.
The cuff dropped off of his left hand, and she stretched around him to work at
the second one.
    Her hair fell across her face in a silky fall of blue-black strands. Faintly
shocked that he could see the individual colors, Riordan could only stare at her
hair. For one moment he couldn't think, couldn't even breathe, drag air into his
lungs. It was impossible, yet the hand he raised to the fall of black hair was
smeared red with blood. Red, not a muddy gray. His fingers brushed her hair back
over her shoulder with exquisite gentleness, an instinct bred into his bones,
exposing the line of her neck to him. She didn't seem to notice, working
meticulously on the lock of the thick steel cuff. Her skin was soft and
inviting. Like satin. He bent his head forward, slowly, steadily, the fangs
lengthening, the demon roaring, his body clenching. His breath was warm against
her skin. His teeth almost touched her pulse, that vulnerable pinpoint beckoning
seductively.
    Her blouse gaped open, revealing exquisite breasts, lush and full and soft
enough to pillow his head. He wanted to slip his hand inside her shirt and hold
warm flesh as he bent to her neck.
    She made a sound, frowning, still absorbed in her work. Riordan inhaled,
taking the scent of her deep into his body. He didn't have control of her mind,
and he was too weak to waste what was left of his strength on working out the
intricate puzzle. The moment the heavy steel dropped from his wrist, he whipped
up his arms, locking her body to his as his teeth sank deep into her neck.
    White-hot pain lashed through Juliette's body, danced like a whip of
lightning through her bloodstream, heating her body so that every nerve ending
was alive and pulsing with fire. The pain gave way to a dark, erotic, slumberous
ecstasy she was helpless to resist. Juliette was certain she struggled, but he
was like iron, her softer body battering itself against his hard one, and he
didn't seem to notice. She felt the strength growing in him, spreading through
him, even as her own strength seemed to slide away from her. There was a part of
her that seemed to be separate, standing apart, watching and feeling in a kind
of horror. There was fire in her blood, moving through her body, muscles
clenching, tightening, going boneless, pliant in his ironlike grip.
    Riordan glanced up at the camera trained on him, his mouth twisting in a
humorless smile, flashing his white teeth. With his eyes staring straight at the
lens, he lowered his head and stroked a caress across the pinpricks on her neck
with his tongue. That look would tell them everything. He knew each of them,
knew their scent; he knew his enemies. Their stench was in his very lungs, and
he was a hunter. He had gone from prey to predator with one small infusion of
blood. It wasn't enough to completely heal him, but it was enough to allow his
escape.
    He lifted the woman's limp body easily to his shoulder, moving with a
graceful show of strength. He had every intention of drawing his enemies to him
and away from his family. But first he would destroy everything they had built
out in the jungle. They hid their laboratory away from prying eyes. They hid
their hideous torture chamber deep within the jungle, thinking they were far
from the law, far from justice, but he would show them who owned this part of
the world, who had owned it for a long, long time.
    The woman erupted into a wild struggle, attempting to squirm away from him.
    Riordan tightened his hold on her. "Stop it," he ordered. "You have no way to
escape. It is impossible. Lie still." His voice was a soft, menacing command.
    Juliette lay quietly, feeling the enormous strength in his arms. She fought
down her panic, trying desperately to think. Her body had become