Burning Addiction

  Burning Addiction

  BL Maxwell

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by BL Maxwell

  Burning Addiction

  BL Maxwell

  Editing provided by: Pinny's Proofreading

  Proofreaders: Anita Ford and Nicole Walker

  Copyright (c) 2020 BL Maxwell

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permissions from the author, except for using small quotes for book review quotations. All characters and storylines are the property of the author. The characters, events and places portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Trademarks:

  This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of all products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks in not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Warning

  Intended for a mature an 18+ audience only. This book contains material that may be offensive to some and is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Kimmy. My Twilight friend who I'll never forget.

  Chapter One

  Doctor Lucas Martel

  The door to the emergency room slid open to allow a gurney escorted by two paramedics to enter. I paused for a moment as the door slid shut and took a deep breath I didn't need and held it. I hadn't picked up the scent of blood, but the paramedics were good at staunching the flow, and alcohol and other chemicals could mask the smell. Temporarily.

  "What have we got?" I asked, rushing over to the side of the gurney just as they were pushing through the doors of the triage area.

  "Male, early twenties, BP eighty over forty. He's barely breathing--we've had him on O2 but his oxygen level is still low, lips and nails blue--and he's unresponsive," one of the paramedics briefed me as we all rushed into the room.

  "Narcan?" I asked.

  "Two doses, three milligrams total, he was holding his own until we pulled up then his BP crashed. I used a sternal rub, and he did respond, but barely. He hasn't gained consciousness, but his breathing did improve." They wheeled the patient up next to the bed waiting for him in triage and we all helped transfer him from the gurney.

  "We're going to need to administer another dose, he's too far gone for anything else to help," I said as I met the eyes of the nurse who was on with me. She nodded and hurried off to get everything we'd need.

  "Do you need us to stay, doc?"

  "No, we've got this. Thanks, guys, good work." As they slipped out the door, the nurse, Tami, walked back in carrying the small bottle containing what would save this man's life. She handed it to me, and I took out the syringe, and drew out two more milligrams, and didn't pause before jamming it into his thigh, right through the thick denim of his jeans.

  He shot straight up to a sitting position almost immediately, his eyes wide as he dragged in a deep, ragged breath. "Where am I, what the fuck--"

  His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went rigid before he began to spasm, now in the throes of a seizure. "Dammit. Tami, help me get him on his side." We struggled for a moment--he was so rigid I was afraid to be too rough for fear of harming him--then slowly he started to come out of it. "Can you tell me your name?" I asked.

  "Brennan, I'm Brennan," he croaked out as he squeezed his eyes shut, before blinking them open.

  "Well, Brennan, you're lucky they got you here when they did, you could have died out there." He didn't meet my eyes, never even looked at my face, just stared straight ahead and said nothing, as though he didn't hear me.

  "When can I leave?" he muttered.

  "You'll be staying the night. The seizure you had was probably brought on by all the Narcan you've had, but we need to be sure."

  "I'm fine," he said as he tried to rise off the bed.

  I pushed him back down with hardly any effort. "No, you're not. And you'll be staying here until I say you're well enough to leave. Now, is there anyone we can call?"

  "No, no one," he said as he closed his eyes.

  I thumbed the edge of the chart that lay in front of me on the cafeteria table. My mind wandered back to the patient I'd treated earlier; I struggled to understand why a human would constantly put their life on the line for a fleeting high. Although, I supposed if I compared it to my own . . . craving, it was easier to understand. I'd had this silent conversation with myself numerous times, and no matter how many times I wished it wasn't so, it just was. I was a vampire and had been for nearly two centuries.

  Throughout the years I'd learned to blend in, and humans had forgotten how lethal we were. They believed we were only in movies and books. But they were wrong. We were alive and thriving and had been for as long as mankind had walked this planet.

  "Is this taken?" Katie, one of the nurses, asked as she pulled the chair out opposite me and took a seat.

  "If I said yes would you have listened?" I retorted, amused at her in-your-face attitude. She picked up the pickle off her plate and took a bite of it while staring at me.

  "Probably not. You know we usually eat together. Well I eat, you brood. It works."

  "So you've informed me, several times." I hid my smile behind the coffee cup I picked up and pretended to drink from.

  "Eventually you'll have to eat, you can't live off caffeine forever," she said before picking up her sandwich and taking a big bite. I eyed her for a second before I shook my head.

  "No, thanks, I can live without the cafeteria food."

  "Whatever, it's not that bad," she grumbled.

  "Sure," I said as I stood. "I've got to get back anyway. I want to check on the guy they brought in earlier."

  "The OD?"

  "Yes, it was touch and go. I want to make sure he's still stable, he had a pretty bad seizure after we give him a third dose of Narcan." She nodded and went back to eating her sandwich, and I made my way out of the cafeteria, and down the hall to the ER admissions desk.

  "Hey, doc, I was wondering when you were going to come back this way," Amelia, the admissions clerk, said with a smile.

  "How's he doing?"

  "No change, he fell asleep as soon as we were able to get him a room, and he still hasn't woken up. They ran a few more tests on him, other than being a little underweight, he's healthy. Must not have been on the street for long." I moved to a computer screen and pulled up his information, looking for anything new. But it was all the same information we'd had before--male, first name Brennan, approximately early twenties, no ID, no emergency cont
act, no address, no information for us to use to find a relative to call.

  "I'm going to go check on him." Amelia turned back to her own screen and was busy again before I walked away from her. I took a few steps toward the room he was in and drew a deep breath before I entered. The strong smell of disinfectant and bleach helped dull the constant scent of blood, but it didn't completely hide it. I held my breath as I opened the door and was so startled to see him sitting up in bed, I blew it right out. "Here, let me give you a hand." I rushed to the side of the bed, hoping he didn't try to rise and then fall.

  "I've got it, I just need my clothes, then I can get out of here," he mumbled, and once again didn't meet my eyes.

  I set my hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down on the bed. "You don't have it, you very nearly died a few hours ago from an overdose. When we gave you a third dose of Narcan, you seized, probably from a bad reaction to it."

  He tried to stay sitting but finally gave in to me pressing him back down on the bed. "I'm fine," he gritted out, and his eyes finally met mine. His went wide for a moment before his mouth dropped open slightly, his heartbeat sped up, and his breathing increased.

  "Are you okay?" I asked and pressed my fingers to his wrist; he didn't need to know I could hear his heartbeat as clearly as his voice. But he didn't answer, just continued to stare. I felt a flutter in my chest, almost as though my dead heart had skipped a beat, and it caused me to draw in a shocked breath of my own. Instantly, I could smell his pheromones.

  There was something about his scent that rendered me frozen, while at the same time made me want to claim him as my own. I stepped back away from him, afraid that the control I had over my primal instincts might snap at the very sight and smell of him.

  Mine.

  A growl started to build in my throat without conscious thought. He still continued to stare, as though he couldn't stop himself, and not even my reaction to him seemed to shock him. "I'll check on you again before the end of my shift. Try to get some rest," I forced myself to say as I hurried out of his room. Rushing down the hall, I walked through a door that led to a storage room and headed to the back where no one would see me if they came looking for me.

  What the fuck? He's just a human, one more human. Why should I react to him any different than to any of the thousands of humans I've met or treated through all my years as a doctor? I slid down the wall and dragged my hands through my hair. In my existence as a vampire, I'd never experienced anything like what had just happened.

  The humans had evolved throughout the years. They were no longer so superstitious of creatures such as myself. But on some level they still knew to be afraid of us. It had taken me nearly a century to perfect being around them and putting them at ease, rather than inciting fear. This human showed neither fear nor ease around me. What I felt from him was his need to claim me as his own. It was as though on some level our beings were intertwined in a way I didn't understand--and didn't want to explore.

  My control over the need for blood was second to the pull this man had on me. I couldn't allow anything to expose me for what I truly was, but could I force myself to avoid him? I wasn't sure, but there were others who would not take kindly to me exposing our kind to the humans. And I couldn't risk my eternal life on whatever these feelings were. If they found out, he'd be at risk too.

  That thought caused me to growl again, and my fangs pressed into my lip--ready to strike, ready to kill and maim anyone or anything that dared stand between us. I shook my head and let it drop into my hands as realization sunk in--I was so fucked.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Tami stuck her head inside before waiting for me to answer. "Sorry to disturb you in your favorite hiding place, but you need to get out here, the guy that almost OD'd earlier is trying to leave." She dropped that bomb and backed out the door as though she hadn't been there at all. I stood and rushed out nearly at a run, bursting into the room just in time to see him ripping his IV out while Tami tried to stop him.

  "Stop. You're not going anywhere!" I yelled. He froze and met my eyes once again. Tami looked between the two of us for a split second before pressing a gauze pad to his arm and stemming the blood. The blood. My lips curled at the smell, and again I found myself fighting the urge to mark him and claim him as my own. I glanced from his arm to his eyes, and his lips lifted in a slight smile. His long, unkempt hair didn't take away from his beauty, his beautiful emerald eyes and fair hair were all I could see in that moment.

  I forced myself to shake my head, then walked over to where Tami stood still pressing the gauze to his arm. "Let me get that, Tami, go and get another IV setup. We'll knock him out if he won't play by the rules," I said as I set the full force of my dark eyes on him. Once again he smiled, seemingly unaffected.

  I shook my head and didn't make eye contact again, whatever was between us needed to end, right here and now. There was no way in hell I was going down that road. He had no idea how much danger he was putting himself in just by being on my radar. Or maybe he did, and didn't care. I wasn't sure, and I wasn't willing to try to find out.

  Chapter Two

  Brennan Clayton

  Earlier that same day

  * * *

  "Hey, man, can you loan me some money?" I knew I was pushing it. I still owed him money to help with his rent, but I'd helped Sean out more times than I could count.

  "Dude, I just gave you a twenty yesterday. What do you need money for, didn't you just get paid?"

  "Yeah, but I'm hurting, I need to get a fix."

  "You need to get clean. I'm sorry, but I can't help. I've got rent and bills to pay. Sorry, man." He grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and walked out of the apartment. I was lucky he let me stay here. I'd lost my own place months ago, too much money spent on drugs and not enough spent on bills and rent. Landlords don't like it when you don't pay them.

  "Yeah, yeah," I mumbled to myself. I knew I needed to stop asking Sean for money, because he was letting me stay here without pushing me for more. I'd been working down on the dock of Humboldt Bay, helping out any fishing boat that was willing to pay, with anything they needed done. It was just about the time they'd be returning to the docks with their boats full of fish or crab, depending on the season. It was nasty work, the smell alone was enough to turn some away, but not me. The fishermen didn't judge, they just wanted someone who was willing to work, helping them unload or clean their boat after a long day of fishing.

  I put my flannel shirt over the top of my dirty T-shirt and grabbed my jacket off the back of the couch as I was walking out the door. Hopefully there would be more work today than there was yesterday. I lit the cigarette I'd stolen from Sean earlier--he'd never notice, and if he did, it just didn't matter to me anymore. Nothing really mattered. Except my next fix. I dug deep and tried to find that part of me that cared I was leeching off my last friend. If I burned this bridge, I'd be left with no one I could count on, and no place to live.

  It was cold and foggy, chilling me to the bone. I pulled my coat closer as I walked the few blocks to the bay. Same as it was yesterday, it was always foggy here. Or raining. When the sun did shine, the wind blew, making it just as cold as when it was foggy or raining. I stood in front of the Carson Mansion, looking out at the view of Woodley Island. It really was a beautiful sight, always green, and all of the Victorian architecture in and around Eureka was something I used to appreciate.

  I shook my head and continued walking to the marina, shoving my hands down into my pants pockets and trying to pretend the tremors I was starting to feel were from the cold, not from my need. I could lie all I wanted, but my body would betray me. If I didn't get a fix soon, I'd be hurting real bad. So bad that work wouldn't be a possibility, and then the vomiting would start. I shuddered at the thought. The sooner I made some money the better.

  I straightened my back and walked a little faster over to the docks. There were quite a few boats already back from their day of fishing, and more that were still farther out in the bay maki
ng their way in. I made my way to where the Night Crawler was moored and stepped closer to the rail. "Ahoy, Dan, you around?"

  "Who wants to know?" He stepped out onto the deck and waved me onboard. "Come on, kid, you want to help me unload? I caught a bunch of cod today, gonna be a good haul."

  "Yeah, Dan, that'd be great. Cod, huh? Isn't it crab season?"

  "No, kid, not yet. Hopefully they let us start on time this year. All the money's in crab."

  I slipped a raincoat over my jacket and pulled on some rubber boots before climbing down into the hold. I'd done this enough times now that I knew the routine. Once I was down below, Dan guided a plastic crate to me that was on a boom. I filled it, and he pulled it up and swung it over to the dock.

  We'd been working in relative silence for a couple of hours when I started feeling the cold shiver of withdrawal start to slither up my spine once again. I knew I didn't have much time now, but I needed to make enough money to pay for my next fix. I stopped for a minute to catch my breath, but the overwhelming smell of fish was almost my undoing.

  I stuck my head out of the hold and took a deep breath.

  "You okay, kid? You're looking a little green," Dan ribbed me for once again feeling sick. He thought it was seasickness, even though we were docked. The gentle sway of the boat didn't bother me, but there was no way I was willing to tell him what was really wrong.