Breaking the Skin Read online

  Michael “Hatch” Jacobson is hired muscle and damn good at his job. Since the existence of Vampires was revealed on earth, humans and blood drinkers have lived in peace. Because each side has abided by a strict set of rules. But rules get broken, and now Hatch is putting his muscle to use working with the blood-bag drinking Daybreakers to keep a rogue faction of vamps from feasting on humans.

  Lola Sommers works at a local blood bank. Her job allows her to support a cause dear to her: providing sustenance for the vamps who value human life. Her unique heritage opens her heart to their plight, but it's a human that catches her attention and makes her want a future like the stories her grandparents shared about true love. Back when shifters and witches existed. Before blood was a commodity and humans sat a little lower on the food chain.

  When Lola is put in the crosshairs of a Daybreaker war, Hatch will risk it all to protect what's his.

  Breaking the Skin

  By P. Jameson

  Breaking the Skin

  Copyright © 2016 by P. Jameson

  First electronic publication: October 2016

  United States of America

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, redistributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database, without prior written permission from the author, with the exception of brief quotations contained in critical reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this work may be scanned, uploaded, or otherwise distributed via the internet or any other means, including electronic or print without the author’s written permission.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  P. Jameson

  www.pjamesonbooks.com

  Editing: Tammy Farrell

  Cover Design: Jatee

  Other books by P. Jameson

  Ouachita Mountain Shifters

  A Mate’s Wish (Holiday Prequel)

  Deliciously Mated (Book 1)

  Ouachita Mated (Book 2)

  Merrily Mated (Book 3)

  Secretly Mated (Book 4)

  Shadow Mated (Book 5)

  Brother Bear Mated (Book 6)

  Brave Bear Mated (Book 7)

  Sunshine Mated (Book 8)

  Dirt Track Dogs

  Racing the Alpha (Book 1)

  Racing the Beast (Book 2)

  Racing Home (Book 3)

  Racing Hard (Book 4)

  Racing Destiny (Book 5)

  Home for the Holidays (Book 6)

  Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap

  Dirty Looks (Book 1)

  Ozark Mountain Shifters

  A Mate’s Denial (Book 1)

  A Mate’s Sacrifice (Book 2)

  A Mate’s Revenge (Book 3)

  A Mate’s Submission (Book 4)

  Sci-fi Fantasy Romance

  Starwalker (Amazon)

  Chapter One

  Michael “Hatch” Jacobson stomped across the dry, cracked earth and goathead stickers that made up his pretend yard. Southern Arizona was hot as Hades’ hairy nut sack in late September, but it wasn’t much different than any other time of the year. Luckily, the bastard sun would sink under the horizon soon and let the night cool the desert.

  Carefully climbing the rusted fold-out steps of the tiny Airstream he called home, he checked to make sure the door hadn’t been messed with, and then slid his key in the lock, jiggling it until it clicked open.

  Inside, he had to pull a Quasimodo unless he wanted his head to hit the ceiling. He tossed his keys into the mason jar on the counter and twisted around to kick off his boots—

  Hatch stopped short at the sight of a pale man in a black suit, sitting on his ratty sofa. The thing was early twenty-first century, threadbare, and decorated from the inside out with sharp metal springs. Stark contrast to the expertly dressed, combed and coifed male who certainly did not have a key to this trailer.

  Hatch blew out a long breath and ran his fingers through his short hair. “Drak,” he muttered. “I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”

  “Is that so? That why you live in such cramped quarters?” Drak’s voice was smooth and prim, with just a touch of disdain. It made Hatch grin at the guy’s discomfort. Drak was used to finer things, though he never flaunted his excess.

  “What’s the matter, friend? Don’t you like my place? I find it downright…” How to describe it…? The trailer was annoying at times, but it was quiet and it was secluded and it was his. “… homey. How’d you get in here anyway?”

  “Please,” Drak said lazily. “Your tin foil box isn’t hard to break into.”

  Hatch sighed. “Fine. You’re right. Don’t tell me your secrets. But can I just say, I do wish that thing about being invited in applied in real life.”

  Drak rolled his eyes and somehow managed to make it look very respectable. “Faulty vampire lore will be the bane of my existence.”

  Hatch threw his hands up, palms forward. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t say the V word. That’s all on you.”

  Drak was always saying his kind weren’t vamps. They were Daybreakers. Biiiiiig diff, supposedly. Except there were more similarities than not. They needed the blood of the living to survive. They were stronger than regular humans like Hatch. Altered body temperature. Strange reactions to the sun.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Drak waved him off. “I didn’t come here to discuss my… difficulties.”

  “No? Why are you here then?”

  Hatch twisted a quarter turn because it was best not to move his whole body, and rifled through an upper cabinet for a clean bowl. Grabbing the box of Cocoa Puffs from the counter, he dumped the remainder into the bowl and began eating it dry. No use looking in the tiny fridge for milk. He knew he was out, and had no plans of going back to town for a few days.

  Drak watched him, curious, with that hint of contempt in the tilt of his lips.

  “Chocolate. Crunchy. They’re good. Wanna try it?”

  His vampy friend frowned. “No. I’m here about your girl, human,” he said, making all the cereal goodness turn to sawdust in Hatch’s mouth.

  His girl was not really his. But that didn’t mean his heart didn’t thunder and pop at her mention. That he didn’t think about her at night when he was lying lonely on the uncomfortable mattress that was a size too small for him. He liked to imagine the world was different. A world where he could’ve met her under different circumstances and dated her properly, like she deserved. He imagined how she would have felt different to his heart than other women he’d dated over the years. She would’ve felt like more, like they could have a future together. Then he would have asked her to do just that. And even though settling down had never seemed like his thing, maybe they would’ve ended up with a house, and a yard with a fence, and a couple kids and a puppy to fill it.

  These were the fucked up things he thought about before falling asleep, in order to keep the real life fucked up things from invading his dreams.

  “What about her?” he asked, picking at his cereal and keeping his voice neutral.

  Drak leaned forward on the couch, bracing his forearms over his knees and locking his fingers together. The motion told Hatch whatever he was about to say was no good.

  “I thought you should know, I saw her talking with a Skin today.”

  Hatch froze, his insides going cold then hot at the mention of the rogue Daybreaker faction. While he trusted Drak enough to allow him inside his home, not all of the blood drinkers were as civil.

  “The banks were supposed to be protected,” he growled.

  A Skin had no use for visiting a blood bank. They were called Skins because they took their blood di
rectly from the skin of unwilling victims instead of legally from a bag. They refused to ‘suppress their instincts in order to conform to human will’. Even if it cost innocent lives when any of them lost control and took too much from a vessel.

  This disregard for life put them in bad standing with law abiding Daybreakers who were trying—and failing—to keep them contained and off the human government’s radar. Sadly, Skins were draining and turning people faster than they could be stopped. And soon, the blood drinkers who were careful and respectful of the lifeblood that allowed them to prosper would be outnumbered by the ones who couldn’t see past their gluttonous greed.

  The Skins were cutting their supply off, in short, by draining so many humans, since Daybreakers couldn’t survive on their own blood.

  But Hatch hated to look at it like that. Once people started seeing blood as a commodity instead of something to be given, the world would turn a lot grayer. And it was already dismal enough.

  “What was a Skin doing at the blood bank?”

  “I don’t know,” Drak answered. “I’ve got Simon and Kristoff looking into it. We’ll get to the bottom of it. But I figured you’d appreciate the heads-up. I know how you watch her.”

  Shit. He really wished Drak didn’t know. It was nobody’s business but his own who he pined after. But since his knowing included informing Hatch that his dream girl might be in danger… he could forgive it.

  Hatch gave an uncomfortable nod. “You’ll let me know what you find.” It was half question half demand.

  “Of course,” Drak agreed, standing. He was shorter than Hatch but the top of his head still brushed against the ceiling of the trailer, causing his dark, shoulder length hair to stick up at the crown. He smoothed it back down with a scowl and squeezed past Hatch to get to the door. “Good,” he murmured, palm pressed to the paneling that covered the metal. “The sun is setting. As much as I need what that star can give, I’ve been running too hot lately.”

  Hatch had always wondered why a Daybreaker would settle in one of the hottest places in America. The sun was like a battery for them. If they didn’t get enough exposure, they would sicken. Without the sun, the blood they drank couldn’t sustain them. They became emaciated, lethargic, and could die if kept from it long enough. But in an ironic twist, temperature regulation was a challenge. Their core temp was almost ten degrees hotter at normal. Above that… things started getting tricky.

  “Avoiding the heat is making me a creature of the night.” Drak narrowed his eyes. “Like a real vampire.”

  Plucking the handle on the door, he stepped out into the graying dusk. Minutes and there’d be no hint of the blazing sun that baked Arizona in the daytime.

  Hatch waited, but he heard no engine. So it was official. Drak hadn’t hidden a vehicle out of sight just to sneak into the trailer. They were in the middle of nowhere, and Drak’s apartment was in Tucson. How the fuck did he get out here?

  Setting his bowl on the counter, Hatch reached for his pocket phone. He tried not to use it out here, since it meant the satellite would pick him up. The trailer was his safe haven. His off the grid plan B… that had turned into plan A. He wasn’t hiding from anyone. Yet. But his job was dangerous, and the more secrets he kept, the harder he’d be to find if anyone ever decided to come looking.

  Except if there was ever a time to break his no-call rule, it was now.

  His girl might be in danger.

  The thought wouldn’t stop riding him. It made his neck itch with foreboding. Made his stomach clench with the fear of what-ifs.

  Dialing, he breathed deep to clear the tangle in his chest. The phone picked up on the third ring, but there was no hello on the other end.

  “It’s me,” he rumbled.

  “I know. What do you want, Hatch?”

  He had to smile a little at Hazel’s irritated tone. She never sounded any other way with him. If she ever did, he’d count it as a warning sign.

  He cleared his throat. “I promised I wouldn’t call unless there was danger.”

  “And?” The word was drawn out and lazy. As if she hadn’t heard the urgency in his tone.

  “And I think there is. Tell me what happened today.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Nothing happened today. It’s the same as every other day. We take people in, draw their blood, send them away. It’s the most boring job in the world, and you have me doing it like it’s oh so important. When can I leave, Hatch?” she complained.

  “Whenever you want. You know that.”

  The line was quiet.

  “You wanted to help, Hazel. This is how you help.”

  “Negative. I wanted you to introduce me to that fine, fine specimen of otherworldly charm and sophistication you call friend.”

  Hatch sighed. “Drak isn’t otherworldly. He was born right here on earth with the rest of us.”

  “You know what I mean, Hatch.”

  “I thought you were sensitive to the Daybreakers’ struggle. Are you telling me you only wanted a piece of ass?”

  “I’m telling you I’ve been working this job for six months and I’ve only seen him once. Today. And we didn’t even talk.”

  Just because she hadn’t seen him didn’t mean he wasn’t always watching his local bloodbank. Eye on the food source. Always. But he’d shown up today because the Skin was hanging around.

  “What about Lola?” Hatch asked. Lola with the dark hair and hot-chocolate eyes and pretty hands that grazed his sometimes when she passed him a pen to sign his blood donation papers.

  Hazel huffed. “She’s fine. She’s always fine. Why don’t you just take her out and get to know her instead of sitting me on her. It’s weird.”

  He frowned at that. “I thought you liked her.”

  “I do. That’s why it’s weird. She’s become… like… my friend and shit. She’s doesn’t annoy me to death is all I’m saying. But it feels all squicky. Like I’m spying on her.”

  “You’re not spying on her. You’re watching her.”

  “Same damn thing,” Hazel snapped.

  “Fine, you’re watching out for her. There’s a difference.”

  “Whatever you want to call it. You have us living in the same-ass building, working the same-ass job. I don’t understand why you don’t just watch her yourself. Cut out the middle man.”

  Hatch banged his head lightly on the cabinet. Hazel was difficult, but she was family. So he grappled for patience before answering.

  “I told you. I can’t be with her, and it’s safer if we never spend time together. I’m too tangled up in this vamp war.”

  “Daybreaker,” she corrected stubbornly.

  A harder bang this time. Hard enough to hurt his head.

  “I need her safe, and I can’t be with her and keep her safe.” If she’d even have him in the first place. “End of story. Now, I need you to go check on her. Tonight. Now.”

  “What? No,” Hazel sputtered. “What do I do? Knock on her door all can I borrow a cup of sugar?”

  “She’s your friend. You said it. You’ll figure something out.”

  “Hatch…”

  “Do it, Hazel. And who knows, maybe you’ll even enjoy having a friend for once.”

  He hung up before she had the chance to argue anymore. Hazel would check on Lola. Her heart was as big as her mouth, and she’d do it, because she knew if he’d taken the time to call, the danger was real.

  Chapter Two

  Lola Sommers half-heartedly stifled a yawn as she rifled through a stack of forms that needed filing. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night thanks to a friend needing a shoulder to cry on.

  Poor Hazel.

  Lola couldn’t turn her away when she’d knocked on her door at nine o’clock with tears in her eyes and a bottle of cheap wine. Not when she knew how hard it was for her to open up in the first place. Hazel had worked at the bank eight months, and only cracked a smile midway through the second one. Over time they’d become friendly, and Lola could appreciate a
ll her good qualities. She was loyal, smart, creative, and funny, in her own dry way.

  Bottom line, she was tough as nails, and Lola couldn’t imagine what had put those big ‘ol tears in her eyes. A guy, it turns out. An asshole, at that. A real love ‘em and leave ‘em type. The exact words were, “He sweet talks me into doing things for him and then never follows through on his promises.”

  Lola shook her head. Hazel deserved better than that.

  Mulling over her friend’s situation made her think of her own. Her blue-eyed donor man. She’d been crushing on him for the major part of a year, and neither of them had ever made a move. Mostly because she never would. It wasn’t in her nature. She was much too backward. And because he probably wasn’t the least bit attracted to her. Not because she was ugly. She wasn’t. She knew that. But she was different. And even if people couldn’t pin point why, they still felt it. Instinct. An itch they couldn’t turn off. A buzzing that warned them away from her.

  Lola sighed as she continued sorting the forms.

  He was gorgeous too. Darkish blond hair the color of rust on tin, and gray-blue eyes. Short scruffy beard that looked like he was too busy living to keep it trimmed. Tall and strong. As tall as her grandpa at least. He towered over her, making her feel like she was sheltered under an Oak in a storm. And he always smelled like the night blooming cactus from the desert

  And heat.

  He smelled like glorious heat that she wanted to feel for herself. Against her skin. So close it would burn.

  She gulped, looking around at the mostly empty office, and then breathed a sigh of relief. Thinking about him always made her heart race, and with thirsty Daybreakers coming and going throughout the day, it often made for some awkward situations.

  Hazel leaned against the counter and pushed a folder over. “This one’s had his limit,” she said. “He’s already made two withdrawals this week, and he wants more.”

  Lola stared at the folder. “Emile Maxim. I remember him from yesterday. I gave him three pints of O neg. Enough to get him through the weekend.”