Blood Kiss by J.R. Ward Page A

she knew—
    â€œParadise!”
    The sound of Peyton’s voice was close by and to the right. “Yes,” she choked out. “I’m here—are you okay—”
    â€œAre you all right!”
    â€œI’m right here.” She spoke a little more loudly. “I’m right—”
    Next thing she knew, a strong hand had taken her arm and was pulling her through the water.
    â€œI can stand here,” Peyton said. “Let me hold you up.”
    â€œI don’t need—”
    â€œYou have to conserve your strength. This is just beginning.”
    He sounded so reasonable, like maybe the shock of the water had sobered him up. And then his hands were smooth on her waist as he turned her around so she was facing away from him.
    â€œI’ve got you,” he whispered.
    His arm locked around her, and the feel of his strong body behind her made her tense up. When all he did was breathe like he was in recovery, too, she began to relax a little, even though she couldn’t see anything and her legs kept brushing up against his.
    She’d never actually been this close to a male before.
    Although, given the situation they were in, now was hardly the time to waste a second on that nonsense; Peyton had nothing on his mind other than survival.
    With tenuous relief, she sagged in his hold, letting herself go. Her instincts remained on high alert, but at least her body had a brief respite, her heart rate slowing, that horrid burn in her lungs extinguishing—
    Splash! Splash!
    Two more candidates—or victims—hit the water far, far away, giving her a sense of exactly how big the pool or pond or lake they were in had to be. Except . . . no, it wasn’t a lake. The water was chlorinated.
    A pool. They were in a pool underground—probably not far from the gym, given that she hadn’t been dragged miles.
    â€œWhat comes next?” she said.
    â€œI don’t know. But you and I are going to stay together.”
    â€œYes.” She was shocked at how much his presence calmed her—in spite of the fact that there was still nothing to see, and she had no clue as to what they were going to be hit with next—
    Splash! Splash! Splash!
    â€œHow many are in here?” she said.
    â€œFive just came in. So there are at least seven of us.”
    â€œOut of sixty . . . ? There have to be more.” How could she be one of such a small number to make it this far? “Surely, there are—”
    Four more came in—one dropping really close to them, three others entering far off on the other side.
    â€œAm I too heavy for you?” she asked.
    â€œOh, please.”
    As he switched his grip, her body moved in the water, her backside pressing against the front of his pelvis. She didn’t feel anything there . . . but she wouldn’t have known what to be worried about even if he had been aroused.
    Another person hit the pool.
    And then . . .
    ...for a long period of time there were no more additions. In reality, it was probably just a couple of minutes, but it felt like hours . . . days.
    Her fear kept humming along, but with nothing to immediately feed off of, the anxiety began to cannibalize her rational side, all kinds of craziness running through her mind. What if this wasn’t a training program? What if this was some kind of . . . social experiment? A body-snatcher routine . . . or an attempt to . . . jeez, she didn’t know.
    A wave of terror shot through her. She couldn’t see anything, and the roar inside her head was drowning out the sounds in the pool, and her body was too tired to process the shaking that racked her.
    â€œWhat comes next?” she moaned.
    â€œI—”
    Before Peyton could answer, she became aware that something had changed around them. The others noticed, too, the bodies in the water stilling as if they were trying to assess