Van Helsing Rising - Helen Scott Page 0,29

marveling at how soft his leather gloves are. I've never felt anything like it. They are like butter under my fingertips. I know gloves can be purchased like that, but I've never seen them in person before. The only way I’m familiar with of getting leather that soft is to wear the absolute shit out of it.

I can feel his dark eyes watching me. The moment I flick my eyes up to meet his, though, they are studying something across the room. His hair is just as dark as his eyes and slicked back, but even in the red light I can tell that it has some wave to it. The longish strands are pulled back into a tight bun at the back of his head, barely big enough to even be called a bun. It makes me curious what he looks like with his hair down.

He has already turned away from me though and is starting to walk toward the stairs. I stumble after him since he hasn't released my hand yet. Another thing about this man that is curious. Now that I've had a little sexual pleasure it seems I want more, and apparently my brain currently think anyone with a dick will do, because as Striker leads me up the stairs, I can’t help but watch the fine globes of his ass move and flex through his jeans.

Ugh.

I’m like a horny teen all over again.

Maybe if I just ignore it then it will go away until I figure out what I am doing here or how to get out. Not that the second part is really an option until I discover how the monsters are tracking me. I hope it isn't just scent because that would mean I could never escape them. The thought makes my heart seize in my chest.

As we come out of the basement, my eyes go wide at the sight of the door and the destruction that has been caused around it. The thick steel door that Dragon had shut behind us is scored and dented like it is made of thin aluminum, and honestly, looking at the marks, I have no doubt that had they not been shot by some of the other men the monsters would have eventually made it through to us and I would have been dragged back to the Necron Order.

I would like to say I'd have gone kicking and screaming, but I doubt it.

Those assholes won’t put up with shit like that, and I know that they would have just knocked me out or something. They might be monsters, might even be considered animalistic, but when they are given orders they follow them to the letter. I've seen the scientists test the theory in the lab. I’m one of the few that seems to remain able to think for themselves. Eventually most give in, though.

When I trip over a piece of broken floor board, Striker catches me before I hit the floor. "Careful, baby girl." He props me back up on my feet, looking a little embarrassed at the pet name that slips out. He’s not carrying me when he gets frustrated with me like Dragon does, and I appreciate that. Dragon carrying me had been nice, but I'd also been terrified and needed comfort. Doing that right now would have made me feel weird and incapable. I know I am capable. All I have to do is look at the shitstorm of my life and what I'd survived to see the answer to that question.

As we climb the second set of stairs and go down the hallway, my brain seems to blank out. Tank has lost so much blood it looks like the entire end of the hallway is covered in it. How someone can survive that I’m not sure. I know there is something weird about these guys though. I mean, Dragon told me it was his ability, or power, or whatever, that had turned me into a sex-starved idiot. Phoenix had done that weird thing where we stared at each other and I felt like he was part of me. I hadn't noticed anything with Crash or Striker, but that doesn't mean much.

All I know for sure is that these aren't just normal bikers. And if they aren't normal bikers, then what the hell are they?

14

Crash

I've been sitting outside Dani's room most of the day. Not that I think she’s going to come out, but it’s my shift on guard duty even though anyone