Crimson Ties

by V L Moon

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  Chapter Two

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  Anchorage, Alaska

  A sense of danger snatched Vischeral Bourne into wakefulness. Mind groggy from the Sole Dormire, the sun sleep that claimed all vampires at sunrise, his large body tensed as his senses struggled to full alertness. Blue light bathed the room, an easy visual telling him no immediate threat lurked in his underground bedroom. Red would have meant duck and run. He twisted around and planted his feet on the floor and shoved to his feet.

  He weaved drunkenly and cursed when he had to catch himself on the wall. Get your shit together, Bourne. The sun hovered just above the horizon, but it was still enough to leave him vulnerable. It didn’t help that hunger clawed at his throat. He freed his senses, expanding them, reading the very air as his net widened.

  An intruder skulked near the back door. Something flashed in his fuzzy brain, but was quickly overwhelmed by the ravenous need for blood. His fangs dropped. Whoever the fucker was had just volunteered to be breakfast. Vischeral ported with a thought and hissed as the last minute bits of the sun’s rays licked over his skin. Steam rose from his naked flesh as he stalked closer to the human. Intent on his prey, he jerked in surprise when the bond came on line milliseconds before the dark chocolate and hazelnut scent registered.

  Cophious Dane. His partner. His human partner. Fuck! Reining himself back from the edge of attack, Vischeral fought the monster that thirsted for blood. Unaware of the danger behind him, the newly appointed homicide detective for the Anchorage Police Department cupped his hands around his eyes and leaned in against the window. Despite his best efforts, Vischeral’s gaze roamed over the firm tight ass encased in well-worn denim. A different sort of hunger flamed in his gut. Not a good thing as he was stark naked. When his fangs finally retracted, he cleared his throat. Copi spun around nearly falling in his haste.

  “So what’s the penalty for Peeping Tom’s in New York, partner?” Vischeral asked as he strolled past a staring Copi. Casually, he headed for the back door. He glanced back over his shoulder and smirked. “Just asking because here in Alaska, folks tend to shoot first and ask questions later. You might want to remember that.” Willing the door unlocked, Vischeral stepped inside, letting the door slam behind him. Halfway across the kitchen, he remembered humans expected an invitation inside.

  “Fuck me ten ways from Sunday,” he cursed striding back across the room to swing the door open. “Well get your ass in here. The neighbors don’t need to see you standing around gaping like a fish.” Grumbling, Vischeral spun on a bare heel and strode toward the laundry room.

  Hastily, he pulled on his favorite leather pants sans underwear, a plain black Hanes tee and black socks. He’d have to forego his favorite pair of motorcycle boots as they were downstairs. Finger combing his hair, he re-entered the kitchen only to find it empty. Copi’s scent led deeper into the house.

  “God damned HUMANS!” The words exploded from his mouth as he dashed through the kitchen into the den. Copi stood in the middle of the room his head doing the left to right swivel routine. Thank whatever God happened to be listening Copi’s investigative skills hadn’t found the trapdoor to his private domain.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood silent as the human male explored. Large hands ran over the back of the black leather sofa. Copi inspected the media center, large screen television, stereo, a stack of CDs, a game console. All of it was for appearance sake; Vischeral rarely used any of it. Coffee table and end tables in black marble got a cool glance, even the rug on the floor was given a once over.

  While Copi did his look-see, Vischeral’s vampire nature howled in hunger with each breath he inhaled. Copi’s scent permeated the air and the bond he shared with his partner made it all the more enticing to Vischeral. For the next week, hell the next month, he’d be spending a lot of time downstairs. Having Copi’s scent in the house was going to frustrate the hell out of him.

  His black eyes tracked the detective. The closer Copi moved to the trapdoor the edgier Vischeral became. Sweat rolled down his back and he checked the urge to flick his eyes to the door concealed beneath the dark cherry colored recliner. At various intervals, Copi’s hard stare bore into him cataloguing his response. The human knew he was getting under Vischeral’s skin. The bastard was enjoying it.

  The need to protect himself won out over the need to appear normal. No one, not even the human partner the department had saddled him with could know where he slept, where he was the most vulnerable. Allowing the nervousness to show beat his pride to shit, but he did it. Amusement played across Copi’s face triggering Vischeral’s already hair-trigger temper.

  “If you’re done with the Good Housekeeping tour, Mary Fucking Poppins, we need to go. We have quite a drive ahead of us. You did bring the Hummer?” Sarcasm laced his words.

  Copi flipped him the bird. “Yeah I brought the truck, need me to shove the keys up your ass to prove it?” Vischeral’s grunt earned him an eye roll from his partner. “Fine, get your boots on, I’m waiting outside so I don’t break anything or give you fits.” When he stepped through the front door, Vischeral’s large body sagged in relief. The tension subsided and threatened to dump his ass on the floor. Pulling himself together by the very threads of what was left of his control; he tugged on the spare boots by the front door, snagged his leather trench coat and trailed Copi outside.

  Following the same routine as their last shift, Vischeral slid into the passenger seat and punched the address into the SatNav. Without speaking, Copi started the truck and backed out of the drive while Vischeral cranked the radio. Disturbed’s Warrior blared from the speakers.

  “Good choice,” he muttered.

  “Yup.” The one word response set the tone for the rest of the drive. The two of them said absolutely nothing, both staring out into the darkness. The strained silence was very nearly visible. On his side of the SUV, Vischeral held his breath. Locked in the supposedly large, but actually way to small Hummer with Copi and his mouth watering scent, Vischeral battled himself and his hunger. Talking required oxygen and breathing meant Copi’s scent dancing in his nostrils so holding his breath was certainly the safer thing to do.

  Ten minutes from their destination, Vischeral broke the uneasy silence. Warning Copi about their approaching interview took precedence over his need to latch onto the human’s neck and lap at the delicious taste of his life’s blood.

  “No matter what happens, or what’s said when we arrive, you follow my lead. Do not speak unless I ask you a direct question. Do not respond to anyone who may be inside the house. Where we are going, the people are a law unto themselves. The Department has no jurisdiction. You understand?” Copi looked at him askance but nodded.

  “This isn’t a joke, Cophious.” Vischeral went silent as the female voice of the GPS instructed Copi to turn right. As soon as the Hummer straightened out, the lust hit Vischeral, a ton of bricks right in the groin. He sucked in air through his nose. Stupid mistake. His cock sprang to full attention, and from the way his partner shifted, he’d bet Copi had the same problem.

  “Breathe through your mouth. It helps. Barely.” The last was muttered just loud enough for Copi’s human ears to pick up. The full moon was only two nights away which meant sex, more sex and still more sex for this small community of wolf shifters. The lust pheromones were high in the air and Vischeral’s body responded. He eyed Copi’s jeans and groaned low. That fantastic bulge in his dreams rode proudly in Copi’s lap. His eyes traveled upward to see sweat beading on Copi’s forehead. Bringing him out here was a bad fucking idea, but it was too late to turn around.

  Copi drove slowly down the deserted road that led into the horseshoe shaped compound. Two wolves ran along on either side of the vehicle tracking their progress. Their individual scents carried clearly into the vehicle despite the windows being tightly closed; definitely the wrong time to be visiting the “Other” half of Anchorage’s population.

  Copi stopped the truck in fro
nt of the ramshackle house sitting in the middle of the bend. When he made to exit the vehicle, Vischeral’s hand landed on his thigh. Heat scorched Vischeral’s palm and seared its way up his arm before arrowing straight to his engorged cock. His fangs throbbed in time with Copi’s heartbeat. Warm, rich vanilla and wood smoke rose in the air of the truck to mingle with the dark chocolate and hazelnut. Holding Copi’s gaze, Vischeral let his own scent grow stronger. Copi’s hand slid from the doorknob to fall back in his lap cupping his straining erection.

  Diving into Copi’s mind, Vischeral was bombarded by Copi’s arousal. “Vish?” Copi’s voice, deep and whiskey smooth filled the small space, an invitation. Vischeral leaned closer, his eyes falling to Copi’s parted lips. Lips that moved closer and parted. A loud howl broke the spell. Vischeral retreated to his side of the truck. Copi blinked several times, waking from the light trance invoked by Vischeral’s stare.

  “Remember, no talking unless I say so.” Shoving open the door of the Hummer, Vischeral exited and stalked around the hood of the SUV, all of his focus on the rangy male leaning indolently against the grill.

  “Ranulf, we need to talk.” Vischeral eyed the surroundings and then turned his gaze back to the Alpha. “Privately.” Shrugging, the wolf loped across the small distance and leaped onto the porch with easy grace. Vischeral did not immediately follow, but instead addressed Ranulf and his pack from his position in front of Copi.

  “This male is mine.” Possessiveness laced his voice as his eyes roamed back and forth around the compound. “Any who dares lay as much as a finger on him shall be answerable to my law,” Vischeral threatened. He knew they all heard by the whines off in the distance. With his back to Copi, he bared his fangs at Ranulf in a grisly smile making it clear he referenced vampire law and not human. The Alfa tensed and lifted his chin as if sniffing the wind. Vischeral waited. He knew his scent saturated Copi’s clothing and skin. Massive shoulders eased when Ranulf nodded once and entered the nondescript wooden dwelling.

  Inside, the pheromones were stronger trapped by the walls of the building. Vischeral heard Copi’s gasp. The outside of the wolves 'dwellings hid the opulent interiors. Solid steel walls painted black backed up against the weather-beaten boards of the outside of the homes. The long inclined hall led below ground and opened up into a grand foyer straight from the pages of a House Beautiful magazine. Vischeral paid little attention to the surroundings. He needed information and needed to keep Copi safe. Beside him, Copi’s head swiveled trying to take it all in.

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  Confusion reigned over every one of Copi’s senses. His head pounded like a bitch, and his body ached in time with the throb of his erection. Why? He had no fucking clue. Except, the closer he and Vischeral had moved toward the weather beaten husk of wood and nails that made up the cabin, the heavier the air seemed to be saturated with a combination of lust and depravity. When they had exited the vehicle, he’d heeded his partner’s advice and kept his mouth shut while observing everything around him. Half-dressed men and women seemed to appear out of the darkness, and all eyes had been fastened on them.

  Vischeral’s words still rang in his head and stole the breath from his lungs. It was fucking headline news to him he belonged to Vischeral. He’d opened his mouth to set the man straight until the reaction of the people around him registered.

  Once inside, the hidden luxury screamed a warning into his lust fogged brain. Hallucinogenic. The thought rang loud in his head. Some type of drug had to be creating the effect, but an airborne drug? Never in his years in the NYPD had he encountered anything as powerful as the substance rendering him a lust crazed idiot. Nothing else made sense. What was this place? Some screwed up commune that grew their own hash and sold it as a sideline to keep them within the lap of luxury? Fuck! And Vischeral? How the hell was his partner mixed up in all this? There was no doubt the detective knew what was going on, because Vischeral seemed to know the long-legged man pretty damned well.

  Ranulf’s voice held a strange air to it, masculine but annoying at the same time. It almost scraped against your brain. He exuded impatience and intolerability to such an extent it ran like a cold shiver of dread down Copi’s taut spine. Something was off on a grandioso scale.

  His mind rebelled as it fought against whatever substance was trying to screw him over. He inhaled long slow breaths that only served to make it worse. Vaguely, he remembered Vischeral’s instructions and parted his lips to suck in air. Sporting one monster of a hard on, Copi almost groaned out loud when Vischeral moved in front of him. His partner’s tight, firm ass filled his sudden tunnel vision. Jesus Christ help him, it begged to be touched. It was the way Vischeral moved, like a predator stalking his prey. And, in the car, what had that been on the ride up? He would’ve sworn the motherfucker was as hot and horny as he was. Nothing made sense.

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  Ranulf led them across the foyer into a spacious office of masculine decor. A large oak desk crouched before the far wall. Dark leather upholstered chairs faced the desk. Bookshelves lined the walls and though some shelves did contain books, most were home to an enormous assortment of wolves. Wolves cast in metal, porcelain, wood; even an origami wolf adorned the shelves. Some hunted, some played and yup, some mated. From the corner of his eye, Vischeral saw Copi open his mouth. His head snapped around and his black eyes flashed a warning. Thankfully, Copi resisted the urge to comment, and instead, took a seat in one of the chairs facing the desk. Ranulf growled his fury at Copi's disregard of his status.

  In a flash, Vischeral lunged in front of Copi. His will pinned the other detective in the chair and his mind eased Copi into a light trance. Fangs bared, he met Ranulf’s aggression head on. Crimson fire burned in the onyx depths of his eyes. “Don’t fucking think about it wolf. You touch him; I clean out the fucking lot of you, starting with your mate.” Ranulf’s second growl vibrated the walls.

  “He insults me in my own home, sitting before I do and without permission. I am the Alpha here. I only mean to teach him a lesson in manners.” His emerald green eyes tried to laser through Vischeral to the male that had his hackles bristling with indignation.

  Vischeral leaned close, his voice soft and his eyes midnight fire lit from within. “And, I will be your worst fucking nightmare come true. What I said outside I meant. Now. Sit. The. Fuck. Down.” Unused to being threatened so blatantly, Ranulf vacillated nearly panting with the need to rend and tear. Vischeral’s gaze never wavered; his eyes remained locked and steady on the wolf.

  Reading the very real danger in Vischeral’s stare and knowing Vischeral’s capabilities, Ranulf finally broke eye contact and sank into his chair. An agitated growl rumbled into the room. With a heavy sigh and a jaundiced eye on the wolf, Vischeral perched uneasily on the edge of the remaining chair. If any of Ranulf’s pack mates had been witness to their exchange, there would have been a bloody brawl, challenging an Alpha in his own domain was very often a death sentence. Vischeral remained on wary alert.

  “We are here because there is a killer stashing victims in the park,” he stated while releasing Copi’s mind. Ranulf’s gaze swept from him to Copi and back again.

  “And that affects us here because?” Ranulf cocked a brow at him clearly not impressed by the statement. Opening his mind, he touched Ranulf’s briefly asking for permission to enter. He felt the wall give slightly, felt too the rest of the pack in Ranulf’s awareness.

  “Rogue,” he sent the one word knowing Ranulf and the others would understand. Concern darkened the Alpha’s face. A rogue wolf threatened Ranulf’s pack. With the moon so close to being full, Ranulf risked having females abducted given his pack was the closest to the park. The Alpha’s eyes went predatory.

  Before Vischeral could communicate more, a side door opened to Ranulf’s right. A stunning redhead waltzed through the entry. The black silk sheath she wore caressed her curves as she prowled toward Ranulf. Azure eyes traveled approvingly down Vischeral’s frame before sliding to Copi. Arousal bloomed
in the air and her path veered towards the lone human.

  “Felicity, he’s off limits.” Ranulf’s exasperated voice ricocheted around the room. Undeterred, she continued to sashay closer a seductive smile on her pouting mouth. She propped herself on the edge of the desk her long, tanned and bare legs crossed at the knee.

  “Hello, handsome,” she purred at Copi.

  Vischeral watched through hooded eyes while the female wolf, called by her Alpha, worked to distract Copi. He and Ranulf rose from their seats. He didn’t like the bitch touching his partner, and wasn’t that some fuck up shit. Still, he rose and cloaked himself and Ranulf as they exited through the same door Felicity had entered. He found himself in a very feminine boudoir. Pink and white were the only two colors in the entire room. Dark pink carpet, sheer pink curtains, a round bed covered with pink satin sheets even a pink handheld phone.

  “You have proof?” Ranulf demanded. He was all business despite the frou frou décor. Vischeral’s gaze skipped from the pink handcuffs to Ranulf’s jade green gaze.

  “Nothing I can give you here today except my word. I scented him at the drop site and in the park where the victim was taken. He’s not one of yours.” Ranulf paced with his head down, but Vischeral saw his shoulders droop in relief.

  “We haven’t heard of a rogue, he’s keeping off of our radar. I’ll let you know if we run across him,” Ranulf said. Vischeral nodded, asking more would strain the already volatile situation.

  “He’s killed twelve, at least that’s our count. It’s not the moon causing his actions. He enjoys the kill.” Ranulf’s face tightened.