Read Online Claimed by Cammie Eicher - Free Book Online Page A

the agency paid him a year, and for what? Turning a few of the biters gone bad to their own people rather than the agency.
    He didn’t know what happened once they were returned to their clan, but he knew what didn’t. They weren’t stuck in small rooms with glass doors to be prodded, poked and tested by agency scientists until their usefulness was over. He’d heard vampires killed their own with one quick slash of a blade through their necks. It had to be a helluva lot better way to go than being slowly tortured in the name of science.
    * * * *
    On a narrow back road, silence reigned between Creed and Chiana as more miles slid by. The scenery stayed unchanging, brushy trees and weed-covered fences occasionally interrupted by a field or house set far from the road.
    Chiana made another attempt at getting information.
    “Where are you going?” she asked.
    “Hell, if I don’t change my ways,” Creed answered curtly, his eyes never leaving the road.
    Chiana gave up and settled down for the bumpy ride across old asphalt and hot patch. The road got rougher as they traveled. If it hadn’t been for the crossroads they came to every now and again, she would have wondered if they were traveling in an endless circle.
    The view changed as they drove into a small valley with a scattering of houses and a dark general store. When the pockmarked highway became smoother and wider, Chiana figured they’d crossed a border.
    “Now where are we?” she asked.
    “West Virginia,” Creed answered.
    “Closer to hell.” She paused, then added, “Or paradise. Remember that John Denver song about West Virginia being almost heaven?”
    Creed’s answer of “He never went where we’re going” did nothing to make her feel better. She was supposed to be enjoying her rare weekend off; instead she was trapped with a cynical stranger heading toward who knew what.
    Their smooth ride ended a few miles later. Creed turned onto a narrow asphalt road and, a mile or two further down, cut a sharp right onto a gravel road that wound beside a small creek. They seemed to go forever, never meeting another vehicle, before he made what turned out to be the final turn. Chiana bounced in the seat as he rolled out of one rut into another and, finally, pulled up in front of the oddest house she’d ever seen.
    The main portion looked to be made of rocks. A wing extending to the right had a façade of wooden shakes, and what she assumed was a garage, assembled of plywood sheets with a tarpaper roof, came off the left side of the house.
    Creed shut off the engine and said, “We’re here.”
    “If this is another safe house, I’ve gotta say I liked the old days when protecting someone meant a hotel with TV and room service. I prefer places where the amenities don’t include snake handling.”
    Ignoring her, Creed opened his door and stepped out. Chiana did the same; she planned to stick to him like glue. No way was he abandoning her here, in the middle of redneck central. She toyed with the idea of grabbing him from behind and wrapping her arms around his waist so he couldn’t get away, but decided that might be overkill.
    Grateful for the full moon, she followed him down a sidewalk of more rock intermingled with brick. Unlike the church Wil had taken her to, this place at least looked kept up. Woody bushes lined the house, and spindly petunias punctuated what must have once been a nice flowerbed.
    Chiana wasn’t surprised when the steps creaked beneath their feet, or that a mat in front of the door ordered “Wipe your feet” rather than extending a welcome. She glanced up, wondering if flying monkeys would swoop over the roof in an aerial attack.
    Creed stepped up and turned a handle on the heavy front door. A bell chimed, loud in the silence around them. It seemed an eternity before she heard footsteps and the door swung open, thanks to an unseen hand. Steeling herself for anything from a wart-nosed witch to a giant deformed butler, Chiana blinked